It Happened to a Hark

Injustice Make Me Sleepy

2012-02-08T09:26:00.001-06:00

I am a white middle class American and honestly, I don’tfeel embarrassed by that. But it makes me keenly aware of my position in theworld. I can honestly say, I have NEVER been the victim of systemic injusticesimply because I run this joint! My people make the rules. We’re used toeveryone playing on our terms anddeferring to us. When I was in Kenya, the police would smile ingratiatingly atus as we walked through downtown but would stop and interrogate other Kenyans.Reverse racism. All over the world, I can get away with a lot just because ofmy skin and my passport.

If you’re like me, you’ve become so used to being treatedfairly and given the benefit of the doubt, that somewhere in your heart youbegin to doubt whether systemic injustice really exists among us at all. Likemy white college buddies, you look at minority groups (especially the ones who“fight for their rights”) with a level of disdain. “They’re always complainingabout their misfortune!” “They’re loud and obnoxious.” “If they would just workhard, get an education, and pull themselves out of their situation they wouldearn respect in our society.” A few of them who DO play by our rules (go tocollege, adopt a perfect Midwestern accent, sing our songs, and show up on timeto everything) gain our notoriety and make us feel good about our “tolerance”for other cultures. I always used to feel justified in saying, “It’s not theirskin, but their culture that bothers me.” I’m questioning that statement now.

It was recently suggested that I spend some time as alearner among Africans. I hope to make an impact on that continent through mywork but I feel I need to first intuit the heartbeat of African societies. So Itook a friend to lunch. He is an African church planter here in the TwinCities. For 2 hours, I listened, probed, and sought to understand hisexperience as an African living in America.

What I heard troubled me. After teaching at a bible school,ministering in 20 countries, and learning fluent German, he came to Americato do his PhD in Theology. During his studies he planted a church through aprimarily white denomination. The denomination hoped he would plant an“immigrant” church under their label. But when it turned into a primarily whitechurch pastored by an African, the denomination began to distance itself. Theytold other regional pastors that they no longer associated with him that they shouldn't trust him. They stopped returning his callsand emails. As a final blow, his sending church has refused to sponsorhim to renew his visa.

My friend believes he is not trusted because he is African.Believe me, I struggled emotionally to admit that could be possible amongenlightened Americans. Surely, this was a communication breakdown. He wasmisinterpreting, misunderstanding the motives of others. Or perhaps my friendhad done something wrong that he wasn’t sharing with me. I felt a strongcompulsion to excuse the behavior of my white counterparts and eventually I hadto ask why I was doing that, why I struggled to give my friend the benefit ofthe doubt.

But slowly, slowly, I began to unearth some loop tapeslodged within my psyche: Africans are lazy, Africans are needy, they aremanipulative, they are deceptive, they cannot be trusted like "our people". Thenit hit me…. I, an educated, sensitive, relational, enlightened human beingsimply do not trust Africans. But here was a young, educated,well-spoken, clear-headed African man telling me story after story proving thathe was the victim of systemic injustice.

All I could do was yawn. The more I believed his story, thesleepier I got. I couldn’t help it. The idea that my culture still treats othercultures unjustly… well it’s overwhelming. So I shut down, became lethargic. Ijust can't believe this kind of thing could happen. Everything in me rejectsthe notion, because to accept it would require action on my part. I would haveto learn to trust people of other cultural expressions and accept thosecultures as much as I accept my own. I would have to let other cultures to playby their own rules in my church, in my neighborhood, even in my home. I mayhave to compromise some of MY ideals (like efficiency) for other peoples’ideals (like community) and learn to appreciate those values for what they giveme as a person and how they point me to God. And I would have to stand insolidarity with marginalized people seeking better treatment.

It’s not enough to be urbane and enlightened. My friend’sdenomination had those qualities in spades. If I want to address racialinjustice in my society, I have to get messy. I have to learn to trust peopleoutside my cultural circles and listen to what they say…. Even if what theysay makes me feel really incredibly sleepy.

Be More Judgmental Like Jesus

2012-01-20T11:07:00.001-06:00

Judgmental. Perhaps the most commonly-wielded accusationagainst evangelical Americans. And I think it’s an apt descriptor. We AREjudgmental. It causes enormous problems not just for our public image but alsofor our relationships with each other. That’s why I’ve done everything in mypower for the last 4 years to break off the judgmental tendencies which havedamaged and destroyed several of my close relationships over the years. I’vesearched high and low for the secret to an attitude of acceptance (btw- thesecret is receiving acceptance from God to a greater extent and from others toa lesser extent). I’ve found acceptance is a better foundation for relationshipand gets me in much less trouble. But I keep running up against things I have ahard time accepting. So I’m left asking… is tolerance all it’s cracked up tobe?

Jesus was intolerant. In fact, it was his intolerance thatgot him killed. In John 7, he says to a couple of his brothers, “The worldcannot hate you, but it hates me because I testify that what it does is evil.”

What!? I thought Jesus was supposed to be a “friend ofsinners”. Now I imagine him in a big church preaching hellfire against gays anddemocrats. But when I look at his life, I don’t SEE the kind of standardmoralizing I see in our churches today. He has a few sharp words for theman-on-the-street: “You’re only following me because I fed you bread.” Or…“stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.” But there’s also, “Woman,has no one condemned you? Then neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.”Stories of Jesus with prostitutes, tax collectors, and sinners…. Seems he’s inthe business of offering life to the traditionally-rejected. In fact if Jesuscame back today, I kinda think he might go drinking with his buddies at gaybars. I’m just saying….!

So where is the brunt of his judgment against the world felt?In the institution! It’s no coincidence that after his comment to his brothersin John 7, he goes to a Jewish Feast and says, “Has not Moses given you thelaw. Yet not one of you keeps the law.” Whoa! Imagine how it would feel if someonewalked into your Christmas Eve service and said, “Not one of you understandsthe birth of Jesus. You are all hypocrites!” But this is where the judgment ofJesus is felt most strongly: in our religious and cultural establishments.

I don’t think evangelicals should stop judging. I just thinkwe ought to redirect our focus. It’s easy for us to judge gay couples, moms whochoose abortion, welfare dependants, and criminals. The behavior is apparent.But when it comes to greed we say, “money is a private matter.” We become quitedocile and accepting when we see racism or sexism in the church. Justice forillegal immigrants? Well that’s too hot to touch isn’t it? And we would neverjudge the consolidation of power because we reward personal ambition in ourculture.

It’s Jesus who sharply tells the crowds, “Stop judging bymere appearances, and make a right judgment.” In other words, it’s time tojudge like Jesus. It’s time to start judging the heart and avoid the judgmentsthat justify us: “Well I’m not perfect, but at least I’m not like THOSEpeople!” I want to look close to home before I shotgun my judgment againstother groups. And when I criticize I want it to be against hypocrisy in myfamily, the Church.

If I must be hated, I really hope to be hated by otherChristians.

Slight redaction and John 6: "Is it really that simple?"

2012-01-19T11:42:00.000-06:00

Okay, redaction first: I recently wrote a blog entry tryingto come to terms with the fact that support-raising is SLOW. I was learningthat God may have a purpose for us being stuck in this season longer than wethought. But I was still feeling bummed about being poor. But the more Ithought about it, the more I realized that in every season of my life, God hasamazingly and wonderfully provided for everything we need! Seriously! Oursupport level isn’t enough to move to Georgia, but it is plenty to live onhere. We have free rent, free healthcare, supportive family and friends…. Wehave enough! It makes me suspicious that when it is TIME to move, we’ll haveenough for that too. It frees me to listen to what the Spirit tells me to doand DO it rather than sit around doing the math and figuring out what I haveenough to do. Well…. After that blog entry I got home and opened a $4,000 checkfrom our ministry! Several people HAD responded to our year-end appeal and oneperson we’d never met had cut us an enormous check for $1,600. Crazy huh? Thesurplus should cover an upcoming “scouting” trip to Georgia and a couple otherbig needs. I was blown away. It felt just like God to work on my heart aboutsupport-raising all day, bringing me to a place of contentment, and then blowme out of the water with His awesome provision. So, I’m not bummed anymore. I’mactually really excited. I feel free once again to go out on a limb to listenand trust… trusting Father to provide. Okay. John 6.

Jesus feeds 5,000, walks on water, and talks about the breadof life. This chapter reads with such beauty, simplicity, and potency. I’m leftwith this feeling of Jesus reaching out his hand and saying, “do you trust me?”“It can’t be that simple Lord,” I respond. And he keeps saying, “What if it wasthat simple?”

Jesus, stuck in the wilderness with 5,000 hungry men andtheir families. A logistical nightmare. This is complicated. While thedisciples do the math (8 months wages would buy everyone a single bite)…. Jesusthinks, “I know! Let’s just ask my Father to multiply these 5 rolls and 2 fishuntil everyone is full! Simple.

Jesus wants to hang out a little longer so he sends thedisciples off in the only boat they have. In the middle of the night he decidesto join them again. Walk around the lake? Hijack another boat? Hmmm… I know!I’ll walk on water to them! Simple.

Here come the crowds, looking for another meal and Jesussays, “Do not work for food that spoils but for food that endures to eternallife, which the son of man will give you… I am the bread of life. He who comesto me will never go hungry, and he who believes in me will never go thirsty.”What could this food be that endures to eternal life? The abiding presence ofGod! John 15! Unity of heart and purpose with the Father. How do I get it? Justby trusting the one who gives it. And what happens if I eat it? I’ll never behungry or thirsty again. Simple.

So… are we saying that if I just spend my energy turning myheart and life over to the Father, believing what He says, that I’ll be totallyprovided for? I really had to think about that one… but I think the answer isyes. God and I were talking about it some more today and he explained to methat in life, I WILL have to work to provide bread for myself and my family notbecause he made me to provide but because he made me to work. The mystery of itis that I’m never the one providing it! I’m only the one responding inobedience to His call to work. He writes the paychecks! Boy this is a tough onefor me. Because the minute I start working, I start trusting myself for theresults. But in support-raising, I don’t always see my hard work pay off. Othertimes, I do very little and see miraculous provision. It helps me see ONCEAGAIN that my domain is obedience and trust. His is provision.

And I think it really is that simple. So I’d like torecalibrate my energy towards listening, resting, believing, and trusting him.I think that’s what he means by “working” for food that endures. After all,when the crowds ask, “What must we doto do the works God requires?” Jesuscryptically responds, “The work ofGod is this: to believe in the one hehas sent.” …Simple.

Dear Everyone: Sorry. I Kinda Freaked Out

2012-01-12T17:56:00.000-06:00

In my line of work, I’m constantly having blind dates withpeople I’ve never met. Friends of friends, pastors, fellow missionaries. Letjust say I have a big budget for coffee. Today, I met with Dan, a missionary-gone-pastorin Minneapolis and he reminded me of something important that I’ve learned, andrelearned, and relearned, and relearned: that my domain is work and trust; notresults.

I’ve been on staff with Worldwide Discipleship Associationfor over 18 months. For 18 months I’ve tried to raise enough support to move toAtlanta and do disciple-building fulltime in Georgia and on trips to Africaseveral times a year. I love the vision and I love the ministry. I can’t waitto get going. But I’ve been at it for a while now and the going is slow attimes. I can’t tell you how many times someone has asked, “so… how long haveyou been on staff? Where are you with your support?” Usually a concerned lookor a raised eyebrow follows my reply. This weekend, a missionary told me, “boythis is going to be really hard for you.”

Anxiety. Fear of failure. Fear of mediocrity. Fear ofgetting stuck in Minnesota’s cold winters for years and years. Fear of…insignificance.

When we traveled the country last September looking forsupport, we felt tremendous freedom to NOT be salespeople. A mentor encouragedus to care for the needs of others along the way rather than seeking to meetour own needs. He encouraged us to trust God for results and be flexible,obedient each day. We did our best. We met with as many people as possible,even if we knew they wouldn’t support us. We listened to people’s hearts,encouraged them, prayed for them, and tried to be authentic and vulnerablealong the way.

The results on paper? 3 new supporters. I won’t lie, I wasbummed. So I took a seminar on support raising. I followed their model andwrote a year-end appeal for funds. Maybe you got one? I think 2 peopleresponded. Sigh… I always thought I’d be a shoe-in at this missionary thing.I’m well-connected, relational, passionate, communicative. When I signed up forthis, I knew I’d have hard work ahead of me. But it’s been harder than Iimagined.

So here I am: still dead set on doing this thing. Butwondering why I’m still here. Why am I still here?

But now I’m thinking…. Maybe God’s more patient than I am.As my new friend Dan just pointed out: Elijah was in hiding for 3 years in acave, doing nothing significant but being fed by ravens. I think of Elijah asthe guy who called down fire from heaven on Mt. Carmel, wielding God’s poweragainst a bunch of false prophets. Not bad for a day in the office. But here hewas for YEARS, hanging out alone in a cave with birds for waiters. There are alot of waiting periods for people in the bible. The mature folks knew how toaccept those periods gracefully as people who were at peace with themselves andable to trust the Father with each moment.

Each day I work hard at this thing (as Father encouraged meto). But too often I take it an extra step and start relying on myself to getresults and start feeling bummed when the desired results aren’t there. What ifit takes me 2 years? 5 years? The funny thing is that I’m the only one who’sfreaked out. All my supporters have communicated nothing but support (duh!) allthe way. Nobody’s worried that it’s taking a long time. They all seem to trustthe Father’s purpose and intentionality in my life more than I do! They give mea lot more slack than I give myself.

Back in August, when God was rocking my heart with lots oflove and emotional healing, I felt the purposefulness of the season. There wasa sweetness to my growth and personal discipleship. I felt that the more time Ispent in Minnesota, the better my ministry would be later. In my line of workyou HAVE to practice what you preach so I felt like God had me in “qualitycontrol” for a while until I was mature enough to simply BE a disciple before IMADE disciples. In that time, he told me that one lie he would confront in myheart was the lie that “productivity determines my worth.” I guess that onehasn’t sunk into my skull yet! I’ve been chomping at the bit for weeks andeveryone else has been telling me to chill out.

If you’ve seen me stressed out or discouraged… like I haveto be on duty all the time, looking for support, providing my own needs,playing the part of missionary par excellence…. I’m sorry. That’s not how Iwant to operate. Truth is, I’m learning that all I’ve got is today. 24 hours isan acceptable amount of time. Minnesota is an acceptable place. I haveacceptable relationships. I do acceptable work. I can rest secure in who I am(accepted) and trust Father for results and for the future. (Isn’t it funny howthe best stuff we learn as adults is the same stuff we learned as kids? I supposethe whole “don’t worry about tomorrow“ thing applies to me too.)

So… I resolve to chill out.

Wrath from a Father's Perspective

2011-12-29T11:23:00.002-06:00

Since my son was born a week ago, my father-protectorinstincts have been off the charts. I feel such intense love and loyalty notonly for Levi but also for my wife and daughter that I feel a ferociouscompulsion to keep them safe from all harm. When I have perceived one of thembeing harmed, isolated, bullied, or shamed, I have reacted with surprisinganger. It’s not just that I’m upset by the offender’s behavior and itsunfortunate consequences on my family. The full force of my personal hatred foranother human being is focused on that single person in that moment. Even ifthe offender is a close friend, I find that all my previous compassion andloyalty for that person is consumed in a split second by a murderous personalvendetta against them. I would sooner wipe them off the face of the earth thanlet them injure my own. I don’t care about the personal or environmentalreasons for their behavior. All that matters in that moment is my family’ssafety and wellbeing.

I’ve been totally taken aback by this response because I’mpassive and rational by nature. I fear uncontrolled emotion, and 9 times out of10 I’d rather internalize pain than defend myself. So this furiousprotectiveness is completely outside my comfort zone. I keep wondering if I’vestrayed from the gospel, imagining that passivity and grace are somehow tiedtogether.

But the more I read the bible, the more I’m inclined tobelieve that I’m experiencing a microcosm of God’s Father heart for hiscreation. 4 months ago, I began to experience a profound sense of the Father’slove for me. Wave upon wave of His grace, acceptance, and delight washed overme in a daily encounter with Love. THAT experience empowered me to pull out ofmy miserly shell of judgmentalism and shame-based religion. Others close to mebegan to feel the overflow of that profound love that is free of accusation ormoral browbeating.

Then I got to thinking…. If this is how much God loves Hischildren, how does He feel when another person hurts His child? Suddenly theimages of God riding on a thundercloud, melting mountains, and demandingjustice started to make sense. I could understand why my sweet huggable Jesusis depicted in Isaiah as a man treading the winepress of God’s fury, robesstained with the blood of nations…. Or as the rider in Revelation with a deadlydouble-edged sword protruding from his mouth.

I began to understand Jesus’ fury when he shouted to thePharisees, “Hypocrites! You travel over land and sea to win a single convert,and when he becomes one, you make him twice as much a son of hell as you are.”It’s not that Jesus hated Pharisees, but that he deeply loved people and that love displaced any shred of permissive compassion for thosewho wound His little children. No wonder he says, “It would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a millstonetied around his neck than for him to cause one of these little ones to sin.”

What if God’s wrath didn’t come from an esoteric, abstractsense of justice? What if it came from a deep fatherly love multiplied byinfinity? What if it really was personal?

In light of that… yes, I believe in Hell. If God’s love forHis people is infinite and eternal, it makes sense that His final judgmentagainst the wicked is neither temporary nor annihilistic. If suffering and loveboth exist, then wrath must also exist.

So it’s one of those paradoxes that I’ve grown accustomed toin the Christian faith. I live my life confidant of the tender, father heart ofGod. But at the same time, God scares the hell out of me because I know thatHis tender love extends to all people and I haven’t always treated othersgraciously. It’s not just a deferential respect towards my creator but a realsense of awe and fear.

As my fierce protective love for my family grows, so growsmy understanding of God’s fierce personal love for His own and His wrath towardsthose who stand in opposition to that love.

What's in a Role: Are you my Mentor?

2011-12-28T09:35:00.000-06:00

There’s some confusion about what discipleship is and what it isn’t. Some people feel that disciple-building relationships dealwith mentoring between a wise elder and a young person. Others feel it’s morelike “friendship with a purpose.” Personally, I’m flexible. I find that peopleraised in conservative circles often like the power differentiation of thementoring relationships while others find it a bit alienating. When I’mentering a discipling relationship, I typically withhold judgment about therole I can play in this person’s life until I’ve met with him several times. Imay never verbalize a label for a relationship unless he asks. But if Ido, I find it helpful to bear three things in mind:

1. Roles can be freeing. I’ve been able topour tons of quality time into people I wouldn’t typically connect with simplybecause I don’t expect them to meet my needs. A young guy once said, “I feelbad that we meet every week and just talk about me. Don’t you want me to asksome questions about your life?” To which I responded, “You can ask meanything you’d like, but I want you to know that I’m here for you. I don’t expect you to be there for me.” Thatfreed both of us from the obligation to build a two-sided friendship andallowed us to focus on his personalgrowth. I didn't have to worry about whether he was meeting my needs.

2. Roles can be crippling. I’ll be thefirst to admit that my tendency to slap roles on all my relationships hassometimes isolated me and driven me back and forth between self-loathing andpride. Are you worth my time? Am I worth yourtime? In my life, simple friendships are hard to find partially because I turnall potential friendships into work. To relax, trust, receive care, and engageas a peer is a struggle that deprives me of meaningful community.After an initial meeting with one such friend, I discovered through a mutualfriend that his primary reaction was, “dude. You don’t have to be on the clockwith me.”

3. Roles can be organic. This was SO funfor me to discover. At the end of last year’s men’s group, I was spent. I hadmet semi-regularly with 10 guys primarily as a leader, an advocate, but not asa friend. Exhausted I told my co-leader, Mike, “I really like you. I want tohang out with you. But I can’t handle deep conversations right now. How do youfeel about video games?” True to his word, Mike and I spent several afternoonsmindlessly playing games, eating Pakistani food, and cultivating a deep kinshipthat lasts to this day. Likewise, the day I moved away from Chicago, I called oneof my guys and we chatted on the phone for two hours... primarily about me. The whole time, I wasthinking, “wow, I actually really enjoy this guy!” Similar things have happenedwith at least two or three other guys. Having cared for them, they grow andbegin to care for me, becoming greatadvocates and dear friends.

I like roles. I really do. But I’m finding it necessary tohold them loosely. Sometimes it’s the people I’ve cared for in the past who arebest able to care for me.

Being mean to your baby, and a new song

2011-12-24T10:35:00.001-06:00

Do you know how to make sure your baby gets a full feeding?Put a cold wet washcloth on his back. Seems cruel right? But it wakes him up sothat he can eat all he wants and then he’ll sleep soundly. Most kids arehalf-hearted, sleepy eaters. But I understand that regular full feedings areone of the best ways to establish a normal schedule for your baby. Do you thinkI find a spiritual metaphor in that? You bet.

Today I’m grieving irreparable relationships. I’ve lost myshare of friends over the years due to my immaturity, sustained conflict, orsituations beyond anyone’s control. Conversation doesn’t typically help becauseat least one party has lost the strength and motivation to continue a painfulrelationship. God has been teaching me that these broken friendships willcontinue to prick at my heart for years and years and that’s okay.

It’s unbelievably uncomfortable for me to accept the ideathat I can’t FIX people’s opinions of me or singlehandedly set the terms of myrelationship with them. I’ve tried to hash things out so many times, believingthat if people just understood my heart, they’d like me. Problem is, sometimesmy heart comes up lacking. Other times, these people just don’t give adamn. Typically, I can’t reallyblame them.

I feel like God said to me today, “I gave you relationshipsyou can’t fix,” as though that were some kind of Christmas present. I felt likeHe was asking me to let myself feel the loss of relationship AND the loss ofpersonal control over other people. It an amazingly humbling process. And notto over-spiritualize it, but I do feel like it forces me into a desperate placeof needing the nourishment that only Father can give. It wakes me up from mysleepy delusions of self-sufficiency. It draws me close to my emotional andspiritual food source. It reminds me to eat.

I wrote a song about this combined with what I was readingin Mark 4. I recorded it and posted it to bandcamp. It’s totally worth a listenif ONLY for the ending where Annabel interrupts and starts talking to me aboutthe baby. You can listen to it for free at…

http://nathanharkness.bandcamp.com/track/whole-home-forgiven

If you’re interested in the lyrics, here they are!

You’re hand is like a wet

Cold cloth on my warm bare back

And I start awake

Latching on, drawing life from your breast from your veins

You said if seed falls to the ground

And dies it comes around to life

And spreads a thousand seeds to find

The fertile soil, the tilled and toiled

You said a lamp should never hide

The light in camps of darkness where

The blind have stumbled on for ages

Tearing pages from their minds

And if the smallest seed could sleep

In richest beds and start to root

With mighty branches reaching up

It makes a shady place to rest

And oh…

I will be whole

I will be home

I’ll be with the Lord

And be forgiven

More about the name: Levi Samuel

2011-12-23T11:48:00.003-06:00

Here’s ajournal entry I wrote about my unborn son on September 12 while in Colorado.Debra had been praying that God would give me a name for this child. One day asI was praying an inspiration came, a quiet assured voice (I listen to those: sofar they’ve taken me to my life’s vocation, my marriage, and my career) saying,“His name is Levi Samuel.” What follows is a mix of God’s inspiration and myinterpretation about the character and personal destiny of my son:

Levi Samuel

A man of peace. One who hears thevoice of the Lord.

“My covenant was with [Levi], acovenant of life and peace, and I gave them to him; this called for reverenceand he revered me and stood in awe of my name. True instruction was in hismouth and nothing false was found on his lips. He walked with me in peace anduprightness, and turned many from sin.” (Malachi 2:5-6)

Like Samuel,(interjection: a close friend had prayed over Debra, and said she believed ourson had the “spirit of Samuel”, a biblical priest figure who heard God’s voiceas a child) I will call him at a young age. He will hear My voice and followMe.

A sense of Levi Samuelleading nations in the worship and reverence of the Lord. Levi is a worshipleader. He has a tender heart, yet he is full of strength and power, secure androoted in the Love of his Father.

From a young age, Leviwill cease to follow only his parents’ instruction. The Lord Himself will leadand teach Levi and he will grow to be a source of spiritual blessing andguidance for his parents. He will surpass them in faith, courage, and zeal forthe Lord

The Lord has anointedLevi Samuel a leader of nations, a man of peace, a lover of God.

Boy that gives me chills to read because as much as I candiscern, it fits my son perfectly. He is a quiet, peaceful, tender child. He almostnever cries (even when getting a shot he gives only a single cry). He eats withferocity and focus. He loves to sleep on my chest but is also content for hoursin his bassinet. He seems to be the very image of quiet security, intimateattachment, and focused strength. He seems in touch with himself but deeplyresilient at the same time. I recognize in him a tremendous faith and couragecombined with a deep personal intimacy with the God who made him. So I’m notjoking when I say this kid is special. He truly is a game-changer.

A photo-tour of the last 8 weeks.

2011-12-17T22:12:00.001-06:00

I've become aware that I've been blogging all this time with NO PICTURES!! And if I'm correct in reading Gaston's inference from Beauty and the Beast, then it is appropriate for me to declare in disgust, "How can you READ this?!" SO... just for fun, let me give you a quick photo tour of our last month or so. Come see the world through my... er, lens.


Late October trip to Duluth to see sister Becky's new baby: Charlotte Grace


And of course we ran around in the Snugli for a good chunk of the day. If you're a dad, you might remember how fun it is do have infants in the Snugli... and how painful to your lower back.

an impromptu family photo shoot while we're in Duluth!

Papa Satre keeps saying she looks about 16 years old here

A visit to friends, the Luvolds. Bruce is a well-digger. But don't let him fool you. He's got a soft spot for 3-year-olds

This particular 3-year-old has decorated Uncle Bruce with every beanie baby she could find!

Grandpa and grandma Harkness are avid garage salers. The lion costume was just one of their scores for Annabel

So of course, we had to take her trick-or-treating in it!

Annabel with a friend at a cider pressing party. Every year the Bird family presses hundreds of gallons of cider from fallen and left-over apples. We helped press. Then we took home 8 gallons. Two gallons are now bottled as hard cider after a month of careful fermenting using brewing yeast.

After pressing there was the potluck. This is my dream: big work parties followed by big meals. Community in action.

Speaking of which, Faith Covenant Church (which we now call home) did this cool "Love Burnsville Sunday" where instead of morning services, they all met at the church and split into teams to rake leaves in the neighborhoods. I never liked church much anyways. This was a much nicer way to spend the morning.

A great source of mommy-daughter bonding lately has been crafting together. Both parties become quite engaged in the process!

This is Andrew. We were in 4th grade Sunday school together. We hang out a lot these days. Here he is indulging me on a walk across a forbidden bridge.

Some of our supporter actually started a FUND to buy this for Debra when they heard she wanted one. It's called a Silhouette. It cuts designs you create on your computer so you can make stencils and many other crafty things. Debra LOVES it and has already worn out her first cutting mat.

Annabel got some gifts from these same supporters. Lots of homemade goodies!

The stencil to make this robot shirt was cut by the Silhouette. Of course she helped make a matching one for her baby brother.

"Mommy I want to make the baby boy a monster shirt before bed."

Every morning Annabel requires 4 choices for each article of clothing she will wear.

And every night she sleeps surrounded by friends.

We went BACK to Duluth for a conference. Here's us at the creek I grew up playing in.

Throwing "big, big, BIG" rocks into the water is a favorite pasttime

on the way home we found a pile of leaves. She was hooked.

I called it "Palindrome Day" and I've been looking forward to it for a LONG time. Did you know I'm sometimes borderline OCD about symmetry?

Remember the bird family cider pressing? 400 gallons of fresh apple cider in a morning? This is the guy who invites me: Nate. The birds are good friends.

First snow. We build a snow man with sculpted abs. Then Annabel played BY HERSELF in the back yard for almost an hour. Here she is clearing off her slide.

BACK to Duluth for Thanksgiving. We'll probably NOT make for Christmas due to the impending baby.

Dad giving the blessing. Count on Dad's blessings being at least 10 seconds per person in the room.

Grandma Harkness dancing with Annabel. Me: "Annabel, can I dance with you guys?" Annabel: "NO!! Sorry. This is mine and Grandma's special thing!"

"Nini" (Grandma Satre) with Annabel at our church's Scandinavian extravaganza. I ate a LOT of pickled herring.

This is Annabel's namesake: Grandma Annabel Satre. A humble woman of tremendous faith.

God told me to go on this retreat with Scot and Kristina. I'm still not sure why, but we had a good time.

I promise not to crack a Mr. Tumnus joke. If been the brunt of them too many times.

Okay, CHECK IT OUT!!! Is this not incredible? A purple teddy bear 2-piece windbreaker a la 1986. Annabel BEGGED me to get it for her at the thrift store. What's a daddy to do?

Bringing us to today: a cookie-making party with aunties Charlotte and Tara.

Little Eli was there too. I kid you not, this little guy was strumming the guitar and singing, "Rock and roll forever! Rock and roll forever!"


Auntie Charlotte: our single source of quality children's literature for our daughter. Here she is reading the (apparently) terrifying story of the "Haunted Hamburger."

That's it for now folks. You can expect another one of these once the little guy is born. If Debra is not in labor by Tuesday, she'll have to get a Cesarian. Either way, you'll be hearing from us soon!

Three Fruit Chokers

2011-12-15T10:11:00.000-06:00

“The worries of this life, the deceitfulness of wealth, andthe desire for other things,” according to Jesus in one of his famous analogiesfor the Kingdom of God. In the story, the farmer goes out and sows the “word” (based on how the word is used elsewhere, I think that means "the message about God. The gospel.") over a field. Sometimesthe word falls on bad soil and the seed dies. Other times, it grows andproduces fruit. But the “seed sown among thorns” which grows and is then chokedby worry, wealth, and idolatry (I think) perfectly describes me and the cultureI belong to. We in the American church succumb to these three thorny dangers and abracadabra!! “Sunday Christians.” Fruitless,lifeless, complacent, immature.

1. The worries of this life: It’s not today thatconcerns me. It’s tomorrow. That obsession with controlling the uncontrollable is so endemic in our society that it almost seems normal. But it’s notnormal. A psychologist friend once told me, “My favorite diagnosis is anxiety disorder, not otherwise specified.”We all feel that anxiety. It nibbles at the corner of our brains and threatensto consume us. I once met a beautiful woman of God who after a lifetime oftrusting God in ministry became in her final years a shell of her former selfwho knew only how to express love through worry. If there was nothing to worry about, she was able to manufacture some new anxiety. It taught me that innocuous little lifehabits like worry have the power to trump and override every other part of ourpersonhood in time. It begins to define us until our identity is inseparablewith our anxious thoughts. I imagine Satan is like the Joker from “DarkKnight”, possessing the toxic power to play on people’s fear and exaggerate itto a debilitating degree. Yikes! Maybe Jesus meant what he said when he toldpeople not to worry about tomorrow, since it had “enough worries of its own.”Now, I’m not saying throw away our calendars… but maybe we could start making our plansin pencil with a James 4:15-style acknowledgment of God’s sovereignty.

2. The deceitfulness of wealth… good thing I’mexempt. After all only the superrich succumb to the allure of cash, right?Truth is, my money talks to me. Little Ben, James, and George keep jabberingabout collecting “just enough” cash to build a “cushion”, have a reliable car,a comfortable house outside the “bad neighborhoods.” I imagine that if I canlive simply but comfortably, care for my family, get a couple toys (sail boat,surfboard, kitchen aid), THEN I’ll… well something great will happen to me.Suburban zen will then rest gently upon me all my days. Sadly, reliance on theAmerican dream (even among the poor and middle class) has a swift chokingaffect on our ability to rely on God or produce meaningful fruit in HisKingdom. I’m not against wealth. I just don’t personally have the faith tohandle it. Those little green guys have silver tongues so I’m glad my career pathisn’t a wealth-building one. If God has put you in business, please stay there.But may I recommend that you prayerfully and critically evaluate what is thebest income level to live at for the life and work God has called you to andstay there even if your salary increases? I think seeing God at work among somefriends in Africa who make about a buck a day taught me that there’s no financial“guarantee” as a Christian and that’s okay. I once had a friend who set aminimum cash savings cushion for herself of $3,000. When she had to dip intoit, it she had a major faith crisis. I’m not sure where she got that number,but I’m pretty certain that life-long financial security is NOT a biblicalpromise (even if you DO “sow a seed” on TBN).

3. The desire for other things. We desire all kindsof things other than (or more than) God. They are almost ALL good things…except when they challenge our loyalty to our creator. I cringe when I hearthings like, “any God who…. ______ ….is not a God I want to follow. Well nomatter WHAT God is or does, I imagine following Him is still a good idea, sinceHe’s the supreme cosmic power and holds the keys to every person’s destiny.Thankfully, we’re told that He is good, so we’re not being asked to bow down tosome cosmic trickster or sadist. But we’re pretty darn quick to assume thatbehavior X would make him nasty and vindictive. Don’t you think it’s a littlesilly for me to presume that after 28 years, I’ve gained the moral high groundover God? Isn’t it more likely that I have holes in my understanding? I’drather assume THAT for starters.

An acquaintance of mine is 35, in Christian ministry, anddesperately wants a family. Recently she started dating a non-Christian,sleeping with him, and just got pregnant. She jettisoned her PRIOR beliefsabout romantic relationships, and as a result has isolated herself from hercommunity and ministry. She may or may not jettison her faith altogether. I assume she feltshe had a choice: Jesus who sometimes seems distant or a boyfriend who willlove her and perhaps provide a family. I shudder to think what will happenif he fails to meet her need for love and belonging…

I’m not trying to promote a certain sexual ethic butsimply want to make the point that emotional need is a shaky foundation for arelationship because the relationship hinges on that persons ability to meetyour need. I’m also saying we give these significant others a LOT of power toinfluence our allegiance to God simply because they’re offering something wecrave. I know. I’ve been and am there. Even in marriage, I continually have toask, “do I expect Debra to fulfill need X? Is that a fair thing to ask of her?”

Story 2: another friend for personalreasons is trying to be celibate. All his single friends are getting marriedand he is lonely. Very lonely. He yearns for someone to love and affirm him. So he followedan invitation recently to receive that love from someone he didn’t really knowor even like. He was offered the chance to feel attractive, wanted, loved andhe took it along with the tremendous shame and remorse that followed.

My primary reaction to these “chokingseeds”? Profound empathy. Everything in me screams, “Go! Get your needs met byany means necessary. God wants you to be happy, so do what you have to do!”Problem is, I stink at attaining personal happiness. The harder I try the moreit eludes me. And EVEN if I convinced myself that I’m happy (or happier than Iwas), so what? How much will I sacrifice for happiness? For what alternativewill I walk away from the invitation to be loved and adopted by a heavenlyFather, to seek and find my life’s greatest purpose, to firmly hold on to hopefor an eternal sense of belonging?

Another buddy in the corporate world justemailed me: “On my way to work I had thisthought that really left its mark... It really is impossible to follow God ashe demands and simultaneously have any concern for the measures of this world.I know it sounds like a "duh" statement but I feel like its easy tosay, hear, and outwardly agree with that statement but to live it is anentirely different animal.”

I'm really not out to pass judgement on other people’s motives.As I said yesterday, the more I hear people’s back stories the more empathy andcompassion I have for their behavior, even if that behavior remains inexcusableor downright harmful. But I write like this to help me internalize the truth Isee in scripture. I desperately want to live a life that counts. I want to befruitful in this world but I feel the death-grip of thorns around my throat.Every day, I’m asked to compromise something I believe in and I’m concernedthat the net effect will be complacency. So I’m struggling against the worriesof this life, the deceitfulness of wealth, and the desire for other things. Thebest thing I’ve come up with so far is this: I need to be comfortable withdiscomfort. I need to cozy up to the rock in my stomach because courage,growth, and life are less about conjuring the Zen to be fearless and more aboutwalking wide-eyed into situations and choices that scare me because I believe(have faith) that there’s something better on the other side of that fear.

The Kingdom of God is Like…. The mafia.

2011-12-13T09:01:00.000-06:00

The central locus of the Christian faith, the very heart ofthe matter is in a set of relationships that we’re invited into. Like politicsor the mob, it’s not about WHAT you know but WHO you know. Jesus is all like,“I’m in the Father, He’s in me, so if you you’re in me, He’s in you.” He’s alllike, “Phillip, don’t you KNOW me?" It started with an "eternity past" self-sustaining triune love relationship. Then people come along and we get invited to the party, to love feast. Before some book of rules floated down from the sky, the first human was in the habit of taking walks with God. Very cool.

So in my opinion, salvation is more about relationship tothe Truth (Jesus, both the cosmic and incarnate “logos”) than it is about theexegetical purity of your creed. (btw- Kierkegaard, Bonhoeffer, and C.S. Lewishelped me out there.) Actually, I think God’s going to laugh at some of ourridiculous theology. Oh he'll judge us alright. But not by the bullet points of our creed.

So… ya know how it feels when you sit down with someone andsee past all the nonsense (work, pedigree, image) to the real person beneath,the inner 10-year-old? I wish we could do that with everybody we meet. Itwouldn’t excuse their beliefs and behaviors, but it sure would shed some lighton the brokenness that informs their thoughts and decisions. I’ve been recentlyoffended by people who come off as passive-aggressive, arrogant, andjudgmental. But the more I know about their back stories, their families oforigin, the more compassion I have. Their behavior is still unacceptable and Ibelieve they should be in counseling. But THEY are acceptable. That’s thedifference. Here I am, lumping people into groups and condemning them whenevery single person is totally unique.

The cool thing is, God sees the heart of every individual.He has compassion on them in all their brokenness. He invites them into Hisfamily, but doesn’t tolerate immature and insecure behavior. I wish I were morelike that, seeing past the outer orbit to the core of the human heart.

The end of the story (I’m reading John 14 again, btw) isJesus really wants everyone to join his Dad’s commune. He’s going up to heavento put fresh sheets on our beds so that “you also may be where I am.” He’sinviting us all upstairs for the ultimate slumber party. Everything else flowsout of that relational proximity, that closeness to the Truth.

My favorite hang out time in community is in the morning overa cup of coffee. So I make a habit of spending my mornings in community withJesus, not saying a lot, just enjoying His companionship. That’s what I’m doing rightnow. Just sidling up close to Jesus: my housemate, my mob boss, my friend.

"Occupy Ancient Israel" with Ezekiel the Hipster

2011-12-05T10:24:00.001-06:00

I am a white, American, educated, young, healthy, straight,married, middle-class, Christian male. I am the envy of the world, the cream ofthe crop, the top 1% of the global caste system. I have good intentions andhope to have an influence for good in the world. But the responsibility of theinfluence I already have by virtue of being born is overwhelming. I turn on theTV, drive through downtown, travel the world and I’m absolutely overwhelmed withthe need I see. “Surly,” I say, “I wasn’t made to feel this level of obligationor guilt!” So I’m driven to a cloistered suburban existence to escape thedesperation surrounding me. I’ve perfected those weathered “isn’t-that-sad” and“what-can-you-do” looks.

I like the attitude of Jesus toward the poor: unthreatenedyet unfazed. He could seamlessly navigate the social spectrum. Ironically, hedidn’t have a “messiah complex” toward the poor. But he did have a knack forbringing the marginalized into the foreground. I find that radical tensioncompelling, but I’m unable to do it. I’m alternately consumed with guilt orapathy.

But while obligation can be toxic, I’ve been transfixed bythe prophetic admonitions of Ezekiel in the Old Testament about the poor,widows, and aliens (not the green kind). I’m afraid we might be repeatinghistory here.

“There is a conspiracy of [Israel’s] princes within her likea roaring lion tearing its prey; they devour people, take treasures andprecious things and make many widows within her… The people of the landpractice extortion and commit robbery; they oppress the poor and needy andmistreat the alien, denying them justice. I looked for a man among them whowould build up the wall and stand before me in the gap on behalf of the land soI would not have to destroy it, but I found none.” (Ez. 25-30)

Do I do that? Do I mistreat the marginalized and extort thepoor? Not consciously, no. But in my lifestyle, I give a passive nod to astatus quo that encourages dishonest gains and wealth building on the backs ofthe poor and desperate. I have heard several lines to redirect guilt in my ownhead and on the lips of others:

*The urban poor lack work ethic and therefore become leecheson the system. Why give them jobs and education opportunities since theirdeficiencies are culturally hardwired and they are bound to disappoint?

*If an immigrant comes here illegally why should he enjoythe same wages, benefits, and equality as legal citizens? That’s the naturalconsequence of his illegal behavior.

*5 families crowded into one house? Well they’re notAmerican, so that’s “normal” to them.

*I’M not a slave-owner, loan-shark, or sweatshop manager!These are the sad realities of life so what am I supposed to do? I’m just trying to get along and raise my family,make an honest living, or _______ (insert what you’re “trying to do” here).

In this ONE area, I deeply appreciate the Occupy movement.They’re not afraid to stand up in all their powerlessness and say, “we’re notokay with corruption, injustice, or abusive capitalism.” They’re willing tostand up to those who cheated their way to the top and demand equity. I respect that, and for that reason alone,I’d willingly camp out at the capital. (Oh wait… I forgot. They’re just jealoushipsters, hoping some wall street brokers will come along and write them intotheir wills.)

Seriously though, the finger pointing back at us is this: Ifyou can drive your own car to an Occupy protest, you are NOT the 99%. Globally,you are the 1%. If you have 3 squareorganic meals daily and a yurt to shelter you at night and an herbalist to curewhat ails you, then YOU my friend, ARE “The Man.” This is the great irony and hypocrisy of middle-class socialactivism in America.

But I’ve found that even if my generation is broadly hypocritical,we are also hardwired by advertising and pluralism with the most finely-tunedbullshit radars in the world. We know when we’re being fed a line and getpretty pissed about it.

I wish the church had beat the hipsters to the punch. I wishthe churches in this country would stand at the front lines against extortionrather than excuse or ignore it for the sake of the tithing members sitting inthe pews.

I’m still not sure what I’m supposed to do. Even as I type,I’m wearing a great “well-isn’t-that-just-life” look. But fully aware of my ownhypocrisy, I’ll still stand up alongside Ezekiel and other Old Testamentprophets to demand justice, seek solidarity with the marginalized, love thepoor, and pray for the world. Anyways, it’s a start.

Emerging

2011-11-23T08:54:00.001-06:00

I've taken a break from blogging, emailing, and generally talking about my life for over a month now. I haven't felt I had a lot to say, or maybe I was afraid that what I had to say would take too much energy. So I've had my head in the sand trying to do my job and not think a lot about my life.

I've been a bit depressed this last month. After coming back from our 5-week road trip, we spent a solid week trying to recover some of the emotional and spiritual gusto we'd had prior to leaving. But after a week of hanging around the house, we still weren't rested but were becoming increasingly restless (funny how that works). We went to a conference about the Holy Spirit in Chicago and felt numb the whole weekend. We went to a similar conference in Duluth the next weekend and had a similar experience. I felt very low. A sudden impulse to grow a beard, speak quietly, read books, and wear baggy clothes seized me. I developed a strong gag reflex for charisma, vanity, and competitive personal ambition (all the things I saw in myself and other young ministry hopefuls like me).

But in my "lowness", a couple cool things are emerging. One is a solidarity with my wife who was experiencing the same thing. There is this in-it-together feel to our marriage that I like better than the blast-off-and-leave-you-behind feeling I'd had previously. I feel more willing to hazard traditionally awkward habits like praying together because we were on the same page emotionally.

The other thing emerging is a fresh dose of courage in my life. I'd been asking God to remove people-pleasing and instill courage to act and speak out of my conviction rather than out of my personal insecurity. He showed me that the first step in learning this was to throw myself under the relational "bus" by walking into situations where I risked rejection. I thought the impetus for this leap of faith would come through a spiritual "booster shot", a renewed optimism and energy for life. But in reality, He used my personal desperation as the vehicle for courage.

I felt I didn't have much to lose. So I became more willing to say and do bold things. I spoke with hazardous conviction to several people close to me. I became more willing to speak out of the little God promptings in my life with confidence that he'll show up. And wouldn't you know it, a lot of times He did! I'm hoping that these lessons in trust will snowball into consistent personal gutsy-ness. But the only way to do that is to get cozy with that knot in my stomach every time I take a relational risk.

I suppose I'm writing this now because I'm beginning to emerge from my baggy-shirt lowness this week. I've had a few neat experiences that have given me some renewed optimism. I'm glad to be happier this week than the previous 6. But as I emerge emotionally, I want to hang on to the realness, the courage, and the solidarity I began to see in that valley. Will I now re-opt for the image of the promising, popular, goateed Christian male? Or can I displace vanity, embrace humility, and walk with courage? I'm hopeful today that God's not through with me.

Bing Crosby goes Rambo: Thoughts on Christmas and the Incarnation

2011-11-22T07:23:00.001-06:00

Been thinking about Christmas. Right after Halloween, the music in Walmart turned Bing Crosby on me and the lights started to go up around town. Some parts of the holidays make my stomach churn: everything turns Hallmark and pristine. For a month (or several months in some stores) our whole society turns into "It's a Wonderful Life." At it's worse, it loosens our wallets and diets in the spirit of warm liberality. At it's best, it encourages "peace on earth, good will towards men" as a short respite from calamitous times. But the kitsch wears on me after a while. I get tired of the porcelain figurines, and the bigger versions in front of churches: a baby among barn animals with angels looking on adoringly. Awwww... cute. Sometimes I just can't take it seriously.

But what I do take seriously; What I love about Christmas is the Incarnation, the literal "enfleshment" of God. It's God's outrageous all-or-nothing effort to pursue the hearts of mankind and rescue them from death. Like Hannibal crossing the Alps to attack Rome from the north... It's so crazy, it just might work. For centuries, God had spoken to Israel through prophets, warning of imminent doom, yet hinting at a rescue plan, a renewal of David's royal line, bigger and broader than anyone imagined. And it starts in the Death Star's tiny access chute, a chink in Satan's cosmic armor: a baby in a barn. Perfect. Having no natural humility, the enemy would never think to look for the Messiah in the humblest place.

So Jesus is air-dropped under the radar deep behind enemy lines. In my imagination, the manger is cold and dark. Mary and Joseph are scared and exhausted. The angels are six-winged creatures, covered in sleepless eyes, terrifying yet awed by God's perfectly upside-down plan. The baby has this quiet about-to-kick-some-ass look about him. It looks more like "Lord of the Rings" and less like "A Charlie Brown Christmas."

To me, the incarnation is hopelessly beautiful. It's God stopping at nothing to change everything. Yearning for His creation to know and follow Him, he puts all His cards on the table and finds a way to inflict our punishment on Himself. Becoming one of us, God-in-flesh begins to whisper about a new revolution: a Kingdom that transcends national boundaries, an inside-out redemption of all things. Like the Israelites enslaved in Egypt, God has a plan to loot the enemy's kingdom and leave it desolate and hollow through the ultimate espionage. It begins with God conquering death by dying. It moves forward into a new "race" of people, a race of the "living dead" (dead to the dreams of this world, alive in God's Spirit and Kingdom) sabotaging the enemy in his own territory by displaying other-woldly love, audacious humility, and radical justice. It culminates in a New Creation, a setting-right of all things, a final judgement, and the running-over of time into eternity.

I'd like to see that Christmas card.

A good kind of fear

2011-11-03T22:44:00.000-05:00

I read the first 7 chapters of Ezekiel. It got methinking about the fear of the Lord and my own fears.

Imagine. 4 living creatures appear, flying with wings outstretchedunderneath an icy expanse over which a throne and figure like a man (halfmolten metal, half flames) float, casting rays of light and rainbows of radiantcolor. The whole assembly approaches and you hear a voice addressing you,telling you to warn a rebellious nation against imminent destruction.

The story goes that Ezekiel sat quietly for 7 daysoverwhelmed. (I’m pretty sure that’s the appropriate response.) Then He starteddoing some crazy stuff: lying on his side for over a year, cooking his foodwith cow pies, laying siege to homemade etchings of Jerusalem.

But I have to wonder howmy life would change if I lived with the image of God in His holinessalways before me. For one thing, all my earthly fears (rejection, loneliness,poverty, death) would be dramatically trumped by my fear of God. Also, theprosperity gospel would sound pretty silly. The idea that God’s greatest aim ismy comfort, security, and happiness would seem quite hollow.

But frankly, I’d rather encounter this living, terrifyingGod and be led from the experience in “bitterness and anger” against arebellious people than live in comfort and security oblivious to the terrifyingawesomeness of His Presence.

I think each of us is made to live our lives drawn along bya vision of God’s holiness. People, I believe, are most alive and mostauthentic when their fear of God trumps all other fears. But we’ve been enticedto lust after the idols of security, happiness, and self-sufficiency. At somelevel we all want to do life all by ourselves. God is given authority in ourlives only insomuch as he plays along with our personal ambitions. And thefluffy spirituality that we’re spoonfed every Sunday plays right into oursecret hope that someday, God might leave us alone to live happy and contentedlives without the ambiguity of the hard stuff He sometimes requires of us. ButGod’s enduring passion throughout Ezekiel is that “they will know that I am theLORD.” He says it over and over after every prophecy, every judgment.

So when my ambition for comfort works against God’s ambitionfor glory, who will win? God Himself will ensure that at the end of all things,whether through love or wrath, trial or blessing, salvation or damnation… that“every knee will bow and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord.”

So in every word and action, let me acknowledge that He isthe LORD. Let me trust my fear to one who is trustworthy and good. Then I’ll befree from all other fears. That’s why God’s promise to give Ezekiel a stubbornspirit and firm resolve to accomplish his prophetic commission is believable:because the promise comes only after the vision…. AFTER Ezekiel sees somethingtruly worth fearing, all his other fears can take a back seat.

God plant the fear of You in the central locus of myidentity.

Weaning off the Ego Strokes

2011-10-31T09:07:00.000-05:00

Today I was reading my bible and I felt the impulse to look up Ezekiel 3:9. That happens to me a lot: random bible references pop into my head. Sometimes, the verse is obscure or even silly. Other times, the reference doesn't exist! Today though, it was profound.

"I will make your forehead like the hardest stone, harder than flint. Do not be afraid of them of terrified by them, though they are a rebellious house."

Ezekiel was being sent as a prophet to Israel in exile. A stubborn and rebellious group, God promises Ezekiel that they won't heed his message. But He also promises to give Ezekiel a thick skin and stubbornness to match.

For weeks I've been asking God to remove this gnawing fear of people, to burn it out of me. Particularly toxic to me is the approval or rejection of respected Christian leaders. Their approval strokes my ego and their rejection darn-near crushes me.

It's always been that way. Since I decided to follow Jesus at age 16, the personal attention and approval of key Christian mentors has steered me down a path to become the person they will approve of: a visionary leader with impressive personal charisma. Is that really me or do I just play the part? Right now, I think the answer is yes and yes.

The problem is that through my personal relationship with God, I've developed some skepticism towards many churches and the folks that shepherd them. In part, I feel I also have a prophetic calling to a rebellious house: the Church. A beautiful bride stubbornly prostituting herself to Security, Comfort, and Success. I feel like I'm supposed to call the church to higher integrity and deeper discipleship. But that means challenging the leaders I idolize. It's a conflict of interests. Do what's right, invite rejection, lose self-esteem.

I feel I need to experience His sufficiency to meet the needs once met by people. Or at least I need to be so terrified by His holiness that fear of man pales in comparison! I feel like today's verse is a promise to me: that one way or another, God will strengthen my resolve, wean me from the ego-strokes of people, and instill a stubbornness about the truth; a thick skin and a firm resolve. Yes please.

This weekend, I'm going to a

Remembering 101 for Amnesiacs

2011-10-19T09:48:00.001-05:00

I've been reading the Psalms lately and I'm dumfounded by the role that remembering plays in the worship-lives of the authors. They were still praising God for things he did a zillion years prior.

"You, O God are my king from old... It was you who split open the sea... It was you who opened up the springs... Your path led through the sea... You led your people like a flock by the hand of Moses and Aaron... [You] guided them with a cloud by day and with light from the fire all night."

Remembering is key to faithfulness: knowing that what's before me NOW doesn't necessarily define what's real. Remembering brings stability and sobriety to the way we process our present experiences. I can remember what God has done in my life and realize how subjective my perception is.

For a long time, I wanted to be a spiritual rogue: someone who figures everything out by himself and doesn't need help from anyone. Nowadays, I find tremendous comfort in knowing that the spiritual journey I'm on is one walked by countless others before me. I used to hate Christian history because of all the abuse that church history has recorded. But now I love it because I realize that even in medieval, byzantine, or renaissance cultures, God genuinely reveals Himself to humble hearts and works powerfully on their behalf. History recorded the abuse, but that's no surprise. Newspapers love Fred Phelps, but no headline will read, "Grandma Still Godly after 90 Years." So, I've made a choice to walk away from faddish buffet-style spirituality. I'm choosing to remember who God is and how He's shown Himself to countless generations.

Has God worked in your life? Have you glimpsed His love and power? How about your parents or grandparents? When was the last time we praised God with elation for the Welsh Revival, The Great Awakening, Irish Monasticism, or the early Catholic missions movement? That's tough, when I can hardly remember what He did in my life last year. When I consider His faithfulness in my life alone, I have no reason to doubt his presence and power and love through my life and the scheme of human history. But I forget easily. The psalmists seemed to understand our propensity toward amnesia. That's why in the midst of authenticity about pain, and doubt, and confusion, the mantra of those old worship songs seems to be, "Remember. Recite. Repeat."