4.29.2013

In Exchange for Yours





Thought I'd try my hand at a worship song. Playing on the themes of exchange found in Christian doctrine and the irony of finding through losing. If you listen closely to the beat, you'll hear I used the same hip hop rhythm as I did on "Olive Tree". Just love the bass. I also tried my hand at the garage band organ and found it to be pretty slick. I'm dedicating this song to my friends, Kevin and Suzanna who have cheered me on for years and made me believe in my own music. They were a major reason I recorded the album, "Olive Tree" in the first place. Thanks guys!

lyrics

I give you my righteousness
In exchange for yours
I give you my big ideas
In exchange for yours

You hold me now (2x)
Jesus I am yours

I give you my plans and dreams
In exchange for yours
I give you my everything
In exchange for yours

I give you my very best
In exchange for yours
I’ll give you my dying breath
In exchange for yours

Bridge:
And you will bring me back to life, to life (4x)

And you are bringing me to life! (4x)

4.26.2013

My Daughter, "Hanging On" to Bitterness. Seriously?!


There are two things you should never discuss on the internet: gay marriage and parenting. But I've never been too clever so I'll push that assumption aside for the moment and share my parenting moment from tonight and hope the trolls don't come out to tell me what I should have done. I'm not saying it was my finest hour as a parent. I'm just relaying what happened. So. Here we go...

My daughter loves rules. She soaks them up, thrives within their parameters. She is someone that genuinely believes she follows the rules nearly 100% of the time. She even told me one day, “Daddy I’m not as bad as Adam and Eve. In fact, if God told me not to eat one kind of fruit, I wouldn’t eat ANY fruit in the garden so I wouldn’t eat the wrong one on accident.” So when she gets punished for some wrong thing she’s done, she feels deeply and personally wronged.

Several weeks ago, she got a time out that infuriated her. After all, stalling on doing a chore wasn’t really against the rules was it? So she sat there, pride and shame brewing up a perfect storm of traumatized obstinacy until Debra let her out on parole and they worked happily together for almost 2 hours.

I’ll be honest, I’m grumpy today. Depressed, tired, despondent, isolated, and irritable. But one of my beliefs is that good parenting must go forward in spite of my mood. So when Annabel spitefully elbowed me in the face tonight, I responded swiftly and firmly. I admit I was extra snarky with her tonight in challenging her new belief that height is the sole determiner of age... but the elbow was not cool. Time out. 

Drama ensued, an apology was not forthcoming, and I gently explained that the alternative was a spanking. At that point, she melted down, sorrowful panic filling her big adorable eyes. Through heaves she said something that stunned me coming from a 4-year-old. “I’m just… I’m just still holding on to the other time! I’m still holding to the other time you gave me a time out!” Ah, refreshing, frightening, little-kid honesty.

A sudden flood of sympathy. I almost lost it myself. “Annabel, can I just hold you for a minute?” A pitiful nod as she crawled into my lap and unleashed several minutes of forlorn, angry sobs into my shirt. Where did this toddler come from? This tiny adult with the complex emotions that debilitate her so thoroughly at such a young age? I’m consistently awed not only by how multifaceted she is, but by how deeply she feels things. She seems to have all the complexity of an adult with none of the coping mechanisms.

I’m not vouching for this, but in the moment, I went with my gut to not do the spanking and instead forced her to walk the top edge of the couch for her consequence (which made her grin) followed by ferocious wrestling and tickling.

So did she “let go” of her anger about her past punishments? Or is she “still holding on” to it? To be honest, I don’t know. And that’s okay. But at least we were laughing, and talking, and rolling around together by the end. I guess that’s a start. I'd love to draw a spiritual metaphor (they feel readily available). But dude, it's almost midnight. So. Draw your own.

The Analyzer, the Heart-Giver


There’s an old story about an ex-prostitute who poured a bottle of perfume all over Jesus’ feet and wept while drying his feet with her hair. Judas stands by thinking, “what a waste. That could’ve been sold to benefit the poor.”

Of course, Judas really just wanted to fill the money bag so he could help himself (as was his habit). But maybe in that moment he had convinced himself that his heart was of little consequence. And anyway, he was right wasn’t he? Wasn’t his analysis correct that this perfume represented a year’s wages and shouldn’t be wastefully poured on the ground? Shouldn’t someone stand for truth? Here was nothing more than an absurd emotional charade. Surely an objective, thoughtful analysis would lead to a better decision on how to use this precious stuff.

Heavy. That’s how I feel when I type those words. Because neither I nor my coreligionists have improved much on the example of Judas these 2000 years. Maybe it’s a guy thing. (Maybe not.) We still value analysis, truth, and wise decision-making that feed into strategic objectives. Spontaneous outpourings of lavish affection arising from faith? Not so much.

The amazing thing is that Jesus seems to say, “let’s assume that you’re approach is right. Your filters stink. Your beliefs are wrong. You think I’m nothing more than a philanthropist magician. You’re not going deep enough. If you’re going to analyze this woman’s behavior, then consider this analysis: her actions are far more valuable than a year’s wages. Unbeknownst to her, she has prepared my body for burial and identified me as the Christ who must suffer and die. But furthermore, you assume that truth is truth and your heart is of little consequence. But I see what’s in your heart. I see that you’re a thief and it matters a great deal.”

My heart is deeply and uncomfortably intertwined with the ways I process and speak truth. Yet somehow I’ve bought into the modernist myth of the objective analysis. Frankly, it doesn’t exist. Self-deception on the other hand is very real and very powerful. It’s SO easy to ride my truth horse into town, to make my stand, to take control, to sweep out the filth, and to leave feeling proud of my own courage. But I’d be dead wrong. I’d be Judas-wrong.

So Jesus comes in and says, “That might be a good idea if your truth didn’t stink so bad. See, if you knew me, you’d still get up on your truth horse and ride into town. Except the horse would be a donkey. And you’d come not to clean up the filth but to live among the filth. And the way you’d make your stand is to lay down to die.”

When the Pharisees objected to Jesus healing on the Sabbath, it’s amazing that he didn’t just say, “Ah, come ON guys! RELAX! I’m Jesus okay? You don’t have to be so strict all the time!” He says, “alright let’s talk about the law then. Since you value it so much, why don’t you follow it? Furthermore have you considered that I might be the Lord of the Sabbath?

Jesus engages analyzers on their terms, giving them better assumptions with which to form a thoughtful analysis that will lead to heart-felt christlikeness. Jesus helps the thinker think in better ways.

Jesus engages heart-givers on their terms, giving them better assumptions upon which to give their hearts in ways that will lead to thoughtful christlikeness. Jesus helps the feeler feel in better ways.

I just think it’s really cool that Jesus is a person and not The Force. As a person, he can relate to people in the ways they feel most loved. Jesus relates to me by giving me lots of intense and undivided attention. But for another person, it may look like his presence showing up in quiet moments to say, “We don’t have to talk. Let’s just be together.” Other people might feel like Jesus is always dropping little presents into their life or protecting them or helping them process reality.

But the end goal is always the same: to pull me—mind and heart—into a close relationship with him and to make me a mature person: Not the untouchable sage I think of when I hear the word “maturity” but a right-thinking, right-feeling, always-loving person. Ya know… like Jesus.

4.23.2013

Duluth was "just fine". YAY!!!!


Ahh... April in Minnesota...
I’m sitting before a toasty fire in the home I grew up in. Duluth, MN sits under gray skies and a heavy blanket of snow here at the end of April. True story. I’m here for a missionary conference at the church I grew up in. In the past, it was tough returning to the religious institution I grew up in. So many familiar smells, memories of sleeping in the pews, and a lot of familiar faces. So many things look the same. Just as I remember them. But I’ve changed.

I’ve come full circle. Now instead of doodling in the pews, feeling mildly bored, listening to preachers and music leaders… I WAS the preacher (twice!)…. AND the music leader.

Music is comfortable. Preaching is not. See, I have a specific image of what a preacher says and looks like and does; how he grins and tells fishing jokes and then quickly becomes really serious and theological… how he can drive home his message in three easy points with clever mnemonics. I’m not that person. Never will be. Uninterested or incapable? I’m really not sure.

On the LAST flight, Levi slept
sitting up with his seatbelt on.
So awesome!
So I thought I might share my own story and be real about my own growing edge and why I believe the stuff I do about God. So looking out at a couple hundred wrinkled faces etched so well into my memory, I talked about love… Love as the only valid reason and motivation for any kind of Christian missionary effort. Love that is first of all received on an ongoing basis from the wildly loving God that Christians are crazy enough to call “Father”. And then, love that is contagiously hospitable to those outside our little groups and religious enclaves. Love that doesn’t care about talking anyone into anything. Love whose own agenda is agenda enough. Just love.

I think it went well. At that’s what my mom says. (Thanks mom.) To be honest, I think the response from the adults was a touch on the tepid side. Plenty of “nice job’s” but not a ton of specific feedback. The response from the high school kids however was bubbly and energetic. “We loved what you said! You were so real and we totally understood everything. It was so refreshing.” Well, I think that’s a good sign. When the kids are excited and the adults just kinda shrug… I’ll take that any day.

Some time ago a person whose instinct I trust implicitly suggested I could be a pastor. The thought was laughable at the time as I envisioned myself stuttering my way through a sermon full of flopping jokes and over-serious idealism. But as I drove away from Duluth yesterday thinking about the sermon, I was surprised by an internal change. I wasn’t deeply enamored of myself. And I didn’t despair that I was a failure either. I genuinely think I did… just fine. The familiar pride/loathing pendulum did not swing so wide this time.

And that for me is a HUGE sign of growth.

I realized that, sure, I could be a pastor, a preacher, whatever. I could passably lead 10 or 10,000 people if God led me there. I would just be a really different kind of pastor. I would be a pastor who cared about authenticity over polish, who led by sharing my journey, who didn’t care much about exegetical preaching, or running tight ships, or big giving campaigns for the next big thing. I would just have to be myself. And if I could do that, I think I’d do a fine job. Not spectacular, but fine.

One of the kindest things anyone ever said to me was “you did fine.”

The same guy who told me I could be a pastor took me to Houston a few years ago, stood me in front of a room full of high-powered spiritual leaders, authors, and theologians and told me to do something that, well, pushed me a tad outside my comfort zone: listen to God on their behalf and tell them what I heard.

When I wasn’t gagging on my own esophagus I choked out a few words I thought God was saying for certain strangers. Some of it was probably legit. Some of it probably wasn’t. And when we piled into the van, my pastor/torturer turned to me, gave me a tepid look, and said, “you did fine.” Deep sigh of relief. I had done “fine.”

Maybe we do each other a disservice when we give shotgun compliments. “You were amazing! You have nothing to worry about. You’re so special, talented, attractive, good…” I love to give and receive encouragement but only when it’s thoughtful and not pandering. Because at the end of the day, I don’t need to be special, uniquely talented, wonderful, the cream of the crop. I just need to be acceptable; to God and to myself. I need to be loved not because I’m amazing but because I’m human and God chose me “just because.” I don’t need to be great. I just need to be “fine.”

Slowly but surely, I see myself progressing from stupendous/horrendous toward just fine and that encourages me a lot.

4.15.2013

Follow Behind the Lion


I’m going to share one of my more intimate moments with the Father today. I hope it can encourage and help.

You’ll know by now that I’ve developed a strong antipathy for many swaths of southern evangelical Christianity. That’s not to say that I hate all southern evangelicals or the churches they belong to. What I truly hate are some the attitudes and beliefs which may show up in any religion, but are most prominently displayed today in America’s traditional evangelical movements. I’ll name a few of these “spiritually criminal” attributes which show up in the worst moments of church life:

*hyper-religious language used to avoid authenticity or accountability
*dogmatic legalism used to dehumanize some and boost the egos of others
*self-righteousness which rejects grace and reintroduces the worst kinds of shame into the religious culture
*Plain old hypocrisy
*Denominational empire-building competing for religious market shares
*top-heavy power structures which demand extreme deference and obedience to religious leaders
*Authoritarian theologies used to justify abuse
*Fear-mongering used to galvanize people in a cause
*The over-zealous pursuit of political power in the name of “standing for righteousness”
*Brashness and insensitivity in God’s name
*Used-car-salesman, love-ya-with-an-agenda evangelism tactics
*Spiritually manipulative fund-raising

I could go on. To be fair, most of my conservative evangelical friends will agree that these are awful things. But once in a while, I see my religion getting subtly hijacked by conservatives and it makes me furious. Furious enough to speak out. I’ve understood those bone-burning convictions as some kind of prophetic calling, to address evil in the church. But in speaking out, I’ve found myself getting shot down; not by my opponents but by a low-level depression that’s settled on me as I’ve lived and worked around this “spirit of religiosity” since moving to Georgia. I’ve been especially depressed (with that extra weightiness I’ve come to associate with spiritual warfare) for two months now. Today, I believe I’m emerging.

I think what it comes down to is this… I felt like God gave me a job and said, “go on. I’m sending you out. Fight hard. It will make you tough.” But today, as a friend put his hand on me and prayed for me over lunch, I nearly jumped out of my skin. Because when I closed my eyes I saw something. Behind my eyelids, I saw the fierce and stoic face of a lion just inches from me staring deeply back into me. I understood him to be fierce, furious, and fair… But also peaceful, and strong, and immutably good. Those dark glinting eyes saw me—REALLY saw me—but they also saw everything wrong and rotten in this world, and I just knew this creature would deal with evil wherever evil was found. And God seemed to say, “follow behind the lion.”

I understood something then that should have been obvious… God doesn’t give us jobs and then retreat to a safe distance to evaluate our performance. In fact, his promise is to do the heavy lifting even on the simplest tasks. Which doesn’t mean that our tasks should feel simple. But it does mean that we should walk through every realm of personal obligation and growth and calling with a deep immutable belief that God is with us and is going before us so that we’ll never have to feel orphaned or alone… even in the fiercest battles.

A second image flashed across my mind: a butterfly, wings outstretched, covered in eyes. I understood then that God is extremely seeing, not blind as I feared. God sees the evil and hypocrisy in the church, right down to the barest beliefs that drive the behaviors. And his absolute immovable commitment is to confront it with fairness and ferocity and pure goodness. I can’t hope to do any better than that.

So today, I’m following the lion. Taking cues from him, I will speak out against the Pharisaic cancer in the church, but only as he leads. This is the only way I can imagine that a prophetic commission can be exercised in an emotionally healthy way.

4.03.2013

A Theology of Threat: How to Not be a Hater (and still be biblical)



A recent article in Psychology Today posited a simple personality difference between conservatives and liberals in the gay marriage debate. Liberals, it said, feel they live in an essentially improvable world and deeply value equality. Conservatives on the other hand deeply value stability and security. So the accusations fly that one group is threatening the stability of marriage while another group is supposedly repressing equality in marriage. Both groups feel something sacred is being attacked.

A shallow synopsis? Perhaps. But one thing rings true from my experience of running in conservative circles all day long. Conservatives do indeed value stability and security. And many conservatives do indeed feel threatened.

In Christian circles, this is especially pronounced. It seems like threats are all Christians can talk about these days: the threat of Muslim expansion, the threat of socialistic humanism, the threat of the liberal media or the public education system, the threat of the ghetto moving into our neighborhood. And like kids telling ghost stories around the campfire, the threats grow with the telling.

I have to ask though, what’s a biblical position on threat? How can Christians deal with fear and perceived insecurity in ways consistent with their faith? As I consider a biblical precedent, here’s what strikes me…

Jesus consistently and passionately dealt with religious and internal threats. He clearly distinguishes himself from the religious rulers, forcing the issue by healing on the Sabbath. He loudly condemns works-righteousness and legalism in the Jewish system. He intentionally purges his following with his “bread of heaven” teachings in John 6 after some wanted to make him king by force.

Yet on external threats, he is eerily silent. A question about taxes receives little more than a shrug. Jesus seems unperturbed by the threat of further Roman imposition or the rampant immorality of Greco-Roman culture. It also never seems to occur to him for instance that his association with Mary or Zacchaeus might communicate a “soft approach” toward the problems of prostitution and extortion in those communities. In other words, Jesus’ primary prophetic/confrontational role was not with the world but with the religious establishment. Never does he command his disciples to Christianize societies. Never does he condone fear over “where the world is headed” (though he does commend discernment). Rather he commands his followers to be busy making mature disciples.

I also find Acts 17 interesting. Paul (preaching in the Athenian marketplace) could have preached against Greek sexual ethics, pantheism, moral degradation, or inconspicuous greed. He could have painted a strongly negative picture of their culture in hopes they would turn to Jesus. But Paul comes off soft on the Greeks, even complimenting their religiosity! He’s interested in talking about God and Christ and the resurrection. But somehow, he doesn’t feel the need to address the threat of immorality and worldliness among the Greeks to get there. Yet in his letters to the churches, Paul could be quite bold in dealing with problems head on.

I could go on and on, but let me get to the point. The appropriate Christian response to an ever-changing world is to put one’s own house in order. Christians are to deal primarily with threats from within the church, living lives of winsome love and maturity in the broader context world outside the church. We are not called to be the world’s morality police, though we ARE to live attractively (prophetically?) moral lifestyles, which leave no room for accusation.

Are we in a battle? Heck yeah, and it’s fiercer than anything prop 8 or our country’s polarizing politics have to offer. We’re in a fierce internal battle against shame and hypocrisy and hate. It’s a battle for our very soul. The battle is raging right here inside our churches. So as controversial as this will be, I suggest we hold our peace on gun control and gay marriage. Frankly we have more important things to think about right now. Let’s focus instead on taking those logs out of our eyes—and our churches—before we decide to be a prophetic voice for righteousness in our society. As Paul writes:

12 What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church? Are you not to judge those inside? 13 God will judge those outside. “Expel the wicked person from among you.”

Let’s go a bit deeper. I was just reading a blog on this issue that arrived at the opposite conclusion. Here are a few sound bytes

“The Bible makes it very clear that we should be a holy people, but also that we should call out sin.  You’ll find examples of this all throughout scripture.

“Ephesians 5:11 says, “Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.”

“God actually sent the Israelites into Canaan, with a mandate to utterly destroy these nations that practice this wickedness.  So, here’s where things might get a little personal.  If God hates witchcraft enough that he would actually wipe out men, women and children, in order to eradicate it; how come some Christians find no problem with watching or reading Harry Potter?

Look at Ezekiel 33:7-9.

7 “Son of man, I have made you a watchman for the house of Israel; so hear the word I speak and give them warning from me. 8 When I say to the wicked, ‘O wicked man, you will surely die,’ and you do not speak out to dissuade him from his ways, that wicked man will die for his sin, and I will hold you accountable for his blood. 

“ If we do not confront sinners, it is evidence that we hate them.  Hmmm….think on that.

“Should we, as Christians, not be very clear about good and evil?  It seems to me that Mr. Furtick (an American pastor known for condemning Christian judgmentalism) is against boundaries.  But Scripture is not.  Proverbs 22:28 says, “Do not move an ancient boundary stone set up by your forefathers.”  Beloved, we need to draw lines in the sand!  We need to stand for truth!  And, therefore, we need to call out those who would oppose it; namely Mr. Furtick!

“Everyday, in America, there are over 4,000 babies murdered through abortion.  Homosexuals parade their sin like Sodom, and force us to be“tolerant” of their wicked behavior; making sure that our kids are taught that they are “born that way.”  In any American city, you don’t have to look hard to find strip clubs, porn shops and prostitutes.  Evil is all around us.  We are a nation given over to wickedness.  And as Christians, we are caught in the middle.  So, what do we do?  Should we just go with the flow? 

“We have gone many times to the school board and city council meetings to stand against things, such as homosexual parades and “anti-bullying” policies. In Charlotte, it’s an especially great opportunity to spread the truth because the school board meetings are filmed and aired on public television.

“But once these things get passed, you continue to take it to them, in the meetings and on the streets. Mark Cahill says it this way, “If the devil is going to throw a party, the church had better show up.” So, when homosexuals parade their sin like Sodom, in our public streets, we had better confront the sin.

(source: http://ifmypeople.wordpress.com/2011/07/09/how-should-christians-deal-with-sin/)

I’d like to humbly point to this blogger that every scripture he used was intended as a corrective not to world, but to the church. The thrust of Ephesians 5 is to distinguish good from evil in our midst for the purpose of living wise lives, not for the purpose of condemning the world. The vast majority (with a few noteable exceptions) of the Old Testament prophetic ministries were directed against Israel, against those within the chosen community. The blogger even uses the “speck and log” illustration to flatly say we should deal harshly with personal sin so that we can properly point out other people’s sin. I’d point out that the context tells us (1) that the appropriate place for judgment is between brothers and sisters within the beloved community and (2) that our own issues will ALWAYS outweigh the issues we’re trying to address in others so there is ALWAYS room for deep gentleness and humility in those scenarios.

We all have a natural drive toward judgment. If we’re not judging liberals or homosexuals, we’ll be judging haters and bigots. So here’s my vision for judgment:

A new couple has started attending your small group. He is black. She is white. And a concerned group of long-time members approach you as the leader and say, “what will you do about these people? We are deeply concerned about an interracial couple coming into our community.” You take a deep breath and quietly say, “I love you guys. We’ve been friends for a long time. But that attitude will never be tolerated here. And if that’s really how you feel, I think it’s time for you to leave.”

I believe that judgment rightly exercised removes love’s barriers within a community. I believe that right judgment says to Christians like that blogger, “no, I’m going to stand and support anti-bullying policies, even if that means I have to stand against you.

That’s why I’m endorsing a protest this Sunday here in Atlanta against Westboro Baptist Church and it’s founder, Fred Phelps whose picketing at the funerals of gay soldiers and hateful rhetoric on his website (www.godhatesfags.com) has inspired prejudice and grossly misrepresented Jesus in our culture for decades. The protest against WBC is organized by a collection of atheist and humanist groups throughout Atlanta. And I’ll gladly join hands with atheists and humanists to publically condemn hatred, especially when it’s coming from a group who identifies themselves as followers of Jesus. Because in my mind, the real threat, the insidious threat to us who profess to follow Jesus is not coming outside the church but from within.
credit: http://www.theeagleonline.com/news/story/westboro-baptist-church-to-protest-at-au-jan.-14/
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