Hope

Every Meal an Offering

EVERY BELIEVER A PRIEST.

EVERY HOME A TEMPLE.

EVERY TABLE AN ALTAR.

EVERY MEAL AN OFFERING.

EVERY GUEST A TREASURE.

We often think of Christian generosity in terms of tithing to the local church or giving money for a special offerings to benefit a project or relief fund. Christian people have been generous through the ages with their finances, supporting local church ministry and overseas missionaries as well as giving to aid victims of natural disaster, famine, or war. I think when a person has been captured by the generosity of the love and grace of God, they can't help but partner with the Father's generous, giving heart towards humanity.

Generosity isn't, however, just about money. Being generous with our finances doesn't absolve us from the necessity of being generous with our lives. I've heard a few sermons in my lifetime about tithing income and a few on tithing our time to the church. Seldom have I heard a message that encouraged the followers of Christ to be generous with their lives. The kind of generosity that I am writing about is the kind of activity that isn't attached to the two hours of church programming a week or contributions towards the church budget. It is, instead, possessing a generous spirit towards the needs of those in the community around us. How giving are we as the people of God to those around us and outside our Christian fellowship?

1 Timothy 6:18, 19 says this: "Command them to do good, to be rich in good deeds, and to be generous and willing to share. In this way they will lay up treasure for themselves as a firm foundation for the coming age, so that they may take hold of the life that is truly life." I commend those who write the checks to enable the missionaries to serve where called, support those who help the hungry to be fed, and keep the ministry of the church active. However, wealth and financial generosity are not signs of spiritual health (Revelation 3:15-18) and may, in fact, give us the false impression that we are "doing our part".

I love the image of followers of Christ being the actual Body of Christ. It is with our hands that he continues to bless the world! Every member of his body is called to a generosity that transcends our own self interests. We follow the example of a giving, sacrificing Christ who beckons us to imitate himself! We have been the recipients of the generous nature of God as he lavishes his love and mercy upon us.

Surely, our cup will overflow.

"A generous man will himself be blessed, for he shares his food with the poor."

(Proverbs 22:9)

Life

Every Table an Altar

EVERY BELIEVER A PRIEST.

EVERY HOME A TEMPLE.

EVERY TABLE AN ALTAR.

EVERY MEAL AN OFFERING.

EVERY GUEST A TREASURE.

One of our fondest memories of living in Ireland was the number of people who gathered around our table to share a meal. Some nights, we would cram as many as eight or ten around our table. Serving over twenty people for special occasions was commonplace. We loved the buzz of conversation and the shared experiences that come with eating together. Although we no longer pack out our Irish table, we welcome those nights when a small group gathers in our dining room in Denver.

I've joked in the past about how the denomination I grew up in should be known as the "people of the table". We love the table! Fellowship and community are often expressed by gathering for shared meals, whether at the church building or in our homes. I am convinced that's the way it has always been. There are countless stories in the New Testament of Jesus visiting with people in their homes while sharing a meal. The early church met in homes and shared everything they had in common (including meals, I assume). The theme of eating together seems to run throughout Scripture.

I think there's something that really connects us when we eat together. Feeding is one of those most basic and primitive things we require. We all need food: rich and poor, young and old, white and hispanic. We share the need of food in common, and if we are starved of it, we die. When we eat together, we are emersed in each other's company and benefit from what other people "bring to the table". We need food, but sharing a meal together also reminds us that we need each other.

I have seen my wife on many occasions prepare and offer a truly awesome meal to those who gathered at our table as if she was bringing a gift. She presents her meals with pride, and I know she feels satisfied with having given so much of herself to those she is serving. That is obvious to anyone who eats with us in our home! To her, the table is a place where she offers her best to satisfy the needs of those gathered around it.

While we are on this subject, I can't help but think of another table as well. Jesus sat around a table with his followers on the night he was arrested. He was eating the Passover meal with his friends, breaking bread and drinking wine while sharing conversation with them about what was to come. At one point, he took off some of his clothes, wrapped a towel around his waist, and washed his followers' feet. Their meal together, rooted in tradition, celebrated the faithfulness of God to His people. In the breaking of bread that night, Jesus offered himself as the ultimate expression of the faithfulness of God.

I would love to have been a fly on the wall that night, because what they experienced together that night must have been truly wonderful.

What Jesus and his followers experienced that night is what we experience everytime we gather to share a meal. Our tables become altars as we break bread together, acknowledge that we belong to one another, and celebrate our common need for Christ. Even Jesus himself said that remembering him was as simple (and sacred) as breaking a loaf of bread and drinking a cup of wine -- the symbols of his sacrifice.

And because He is present wherever two or more are gathered, the family table takes on an entirely different (and special) meaning as the place we celebrate the faithfulness of God and belonging to each other.

House

The House of the Lord isn't a building...

it's us.

We are the House of the Lord.

Every Home a Temple

EVERY BELIEVER A PRIEST.

EVERY HOME A TEMPLE.

EVERY TABLE AN ALTAR.

EVERY MEAL AN OFFERING.

EVERY GUEST A TREASURE.

We love our church buildings! I have visited some of the most stunning cathedrals in the world and have been amazed by their use of space, art, and stone to draw those gathered upward in reverence and awe. Still though, I love the simple meeting houses built of wood and stone with spaces designed more for gathering the saints than stimulating the senses. Whether we worship in a cathedral or a clapboard chapel, we tend to carry with us an affinity for our "House of God".

I love the story of Jesus and a conversation he had with an adulterous Samaritan woman that took place at a well sometime around noon in the heat of the day. The woman was suffering from spiritual thirst, no doubt caused by her circumstances and choices in life that left her estranged from her community and alientated from God. At first confused by Jesus' offer of "living water", she began to understand the opportunity for new life he was presenting to her.

Jesus broke down several barriers in his conversation with her that day. He was male; she was female. He was a Jew; she was a Samaritan. He was the Son of God; she was a sinful woman. However, one of the most interesting barriers that Jesus disassembled that day was mankind's attachment to a particular place for our worship of God. He said to her, "Believe me, woman, a time is coming when you will worship the Father neither on this mountain nor in Jerusalem... A time is coming and has now come when the true worshippers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth..." (John 4:21-23). Prior to this, the Jewish people had been bound to the Temple in Jerusalem for their worship; the Samaritans had their own holy "place" as well.

For many of us, our worship of God seems anchored to our church buildings, and too often the same chains that anchor us to our buildings hold us captive in our pews. Consequently, "church" is where we go to do Christian stuff, where we go to pray, where we go to worship, and where we go to "get fed". "Going to church" has replaced "being the church" in our vernacular. Perhaps, like the Samaritans and Jewish people before us, we have attached the worship of God to a place and called that place sacred.

When Jesus gave us access to the Father and the curtain of the Temple was torn in two, the barrier between the Father and His people was permanently done away with. The Holy Spirit (God's Spirit) is a gift given to all those who follow Christ along with the promise that He is present when even the smallest numbers are gathered (Matthew 18:20). The Spirit of God is not limited to place. He is present at the coffee shop, at the diner, on the mountain, or in our homes.

Where His people gather, the activity of Christ is present.

On more than a few occasions, I have been told "you aren't a real church until you have a building of your own". Somewhere along the line, we have believed that our legitimacy comes from bricks and mortar, and it is hard for us to understand even the concept of church apart from walls and windows, sanctuaries and steeples. After all, how can people find us if there's no sign out front to tell them we're here?

If the church was just meant to be just a gathering place, they might have a point.

"Church" is not a gathering place; it is instead the Body of Christ -- living, active, walking in the world community! Those who follow Christ were not intended to be tied to a building but dispersed instead among all people as the Living Christ. We are not legitimized by buildings or numbers or offerings but by Who we belong to and the Christ we serve.

There is a temple at 1467 Cherry Street. It is the place we call home, and -- apparently -- so does the Spirit of God!

Son

Every Believer a Priest

EVERY BELIEVER A PRIEST.

EVERY HOME A TEMPLE.

EVERY TABLE AN ALTAR.

EVERY MEAL AN OFFERING.

EVERY GUEST A TREASURE.

In ancient Israel, the priests acted as mediators between God and His people. These priests stood as representatives of all the people and brought sacrifices to the Lord. Once a year, the high priest would enter the most sacred part of the Temple, the Holy of Holies. There he would approach the Mercy Seat and present an offering for the sins of all the priests and the people. The Mercy Seat symbolized the Presence of God among His people.

Jesus vividly and dramatically changed the way we approach God.

I Timothy 2:5,6 says, "There is one God and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus, who gave himself as a ransom for all men..." In brief, Jesus became our High Priest, our only Mediator who acts on our behalf before the Father. When Jesus cried out from the cross, the scriptures say that the curtain of the Temple that screened the Mercy Seat from the people was split open. Through Jesus, mankind gained direct access to the Father. We no longer require a priest to act on our behalf!

Even though God is now accessible to every one who believes, we still tend to resort to the old way of thinking. I remember reading stories in the Old Testament of God's promise that He would be King for Israel but that Israel demanded an earthly king anyhow. The kings they got were poor substitutions for the King who wanted to rule over them with blessing. I think some of us tend to do the same thing with Jesus. We demand and expect to have earthly mediators...mediators who end up being poor substitutions for the Great High Priest, Jesus.

For some time now, I have been uncomfortable with the clergy/lay distinctions that we have come to be so familiar with. I see in scripture the distinctions for church order and gifts, but I do not see evidence of spiritual aristocracy or hierarchy in the Body of Christ. Many of us see it as normal that our clergy act as priests -- guarding doctrine, administering communion (sacrifices), performing baptisms and other rituals, etc. We often believe that our clergy are servants acting on behalf of the people.

And the rest of us just show up with our sacrifices (of praise, tithes, etc.).

I am not suggesting that pastors and priests are a bad thing. I am, after all, one of them. What I am saying is that the role of priest and representative belongs to all who follow Christ. The church is not made of bricks and mortar or of kings and princes but of men and women who are "being built into a spiritual house to be a holy priesthood..." (1 Peter 2:5). Not only is God accessible to all who believe, but every believer is a minister for God.

Just showing up to "church" and relying on the pastor to do all the praying, serving, teaching, ministering to the sick, visitation, etc is hardly the New Testament understanding of being the Body of Christ. We are all to be the functioning Body, with Christ as the Head. Through Christ, we all have access to the Mercy Seat. Through his spiritual body (us), Jesus has access to humanity.

And I believe this is how the Father intends to grow His Kingdom on the earth!

"...but you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light" (1 Peter 2:9).

{I have had many healthy and lively conversations and discussions with my Catholic brethren and friends with who's theology on this matter I know I conflict. I have a great fondness, respect, and appreciation for my Catholic brothers who serve as priests for their people, and I -- in no way -- wish to diminish their service or disregard their love for their people.}

Self-Imposed Limitations

Dozens of times a day, I hear the words "I can't" from my very capable class of students, and dozens of times a day, I remind them that the only limitations on them are the ones that are self-imposed. I am sure that many of my kids come from situations in which they have been quite limited. Their immediate retreat to the "I can't" zone is either out of habit or out of security. It is very difficult for them to take risk, face change, or get outside of their sector of security and familiarity.

I went with several students to a ropes course in the Rockies a few weeks back, and I was curious about one student in particular during a high ropes element. She made her fear of heights well-known but still managed to climb the 30-foot high cave ladder, walk across a guidewire suspended 30 feet in the air, and repel down at the end. As she was successfully accomplishing her goal, she kept repeating the words "I can't" and "I'm scared". But she did it! Her words were communicating one thing while her actions were proving the opposite. She was quite capable.

I think the human brain is quite powerful, as created by God. I also think that the limitations we place in our own thinking can act as somewhat of a self-fulfilling prophecy. Whatever we think we will not be able to do, we probably will not do. Many of us hardly ever push ourselves beyond our self-imposed limitations. Those limits are formed out of habit and through our own need for security.

I've heard people say that it's good to know your limits, and some might argue that it's OK to stay on the safe side of life. I am just not so sure that much good gets accomplished when we seek after safety and security. I am not at all convinced that seeking safety and security is a formula for faith, even though we have probably unconsciously written safety and security into our theology.

I know many people who have risked much in their own life and for the sake of others. I have read countless stories of men and women of faith who went well beyond their own personal limitations to do what they believed God was calling them to do. I don't recall having ever read a story in the scriptures in which God chose a self-confident blowhard. Instead, I read about men and women who struggled to overcome their own insecurities, doubts, and limitations.

Every day, I am reminded of my own limitations, and every day I have to decide whether to live in faith -- trusting that the Father has me where I am for His purposes -- or live in fear and my own limitations. Every day can be a battle to overcome the onslaught of "I can't" or "I'm not capable". Every day there is a choice to be made whether I am going to get out of myself or stay locked up in my false cocoon of security. Every day.

Our self-imposed limitations keep us from people and keep us from stepping outside of ourselves to live as Jesus did in this world. Those limitations will keep us from our neighbor, keep us from serving one another, and keep us from living as His in this world. Retreating into our own communes of faith, our own homes, or even into ourself hardly seems compatable with the Jesus who interfaced with humanity to bring hope, life, and love.

It may be good to know our limitations, but I don't think it's good to limit the work of God in our life (or through our life) by our small thinking. The followers of Christ in the scriptures battled constantly with this. The counsel of their Leader offered them hope and an omnipotent perspective on life: "With man, this is impossible, but with God all things are possible" (Matthew 19:26).

Every...

Every believer a priest.

Every home a temple.

Every table an altar.

Every meal an offering.

Every guest a treasure.

"...the Kingdom of God is within you."

(Jesus, Luke 17:21)

1 John 2:1

Possess