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Thanksgiving

"I awoke this morning with devout thanksgiving for my friends, the old and the new." (Emerson).

The holiday Americans celebrate today is rooted in the unique story of this country going as far back as four hundred years. While the story itself may remain unclear to many of us, we reap the annual benefits of gathering with our loved ones, sharing a meal of abundance, and pausing to reflect on the source of our provision and blessing. It is my favorite holiday, and although attempts are made every year to turn it in to a consumer-driven primer for Christmas, by and large, it has retained its special sacredness and simplicity.

In 1620, one hundred and two English seperatists set sail from Plymouth, England for the New World. These dissenters, who left England to preserve their cultural identity and seek religious freedom, were brought to the America's by a crew of 30 men on board the Mayflower. According to tradition, they landed at Plymouth Rock -- except there is no record of such a place in their writings and the story was probably made up as a nice little addition to American folklore.

The English arrived in desperate condition and were not prepared to survive in the new world. By the end of that first winter, fifty percent of them had died from disease. As they were trying to fight their way from death that spring, a native of the Patuxet people named Squanto made contact and be-friended the remaining English. Squanto knew the English language because he had been kidnapped by Englishman Thomas Hunt who attempted to sell him into slavery in Spain. When some friars caught wind of this, they took Squanto (and many others) in order to teach them about the Christian faith. He eventually found his way to London and on a return journey to his homeland on board another English ship.

When Squanto returned home, he found all of his people dead from disease...disease brought by the English.

That Squanto could move past his great losses and personal tragedy brought on by Englishmen and be-friend the very people who had cost him so dearly is a remarkable and admirable part of our shared story. The Plymouth settlement could not have succeeded without him. He taught the colonists how to plant corn and how to eat from the wilderness. He served as interpreter between Chief Massasoit of the Wampanoag people and the English and helped forged an alliance between the English and Wampanoag for mutual defense against their enemies.

Over the summer of 1621 and with the assistance of their native friends, the English produced and stockpiled an admirable harvest. As was custom in the era, a harvest feast was planned for the late autumn. Contrary to folklore, the Wampanoag weren't actually invited to the feast but showed up anyhow. Since they shared a treaty with one another, the English were obliged to show hospitality. The 60-90 warriors who traveled with Massasoit most likely made a huge dent in the winter stockpile during the three days of feasting and games. The English, should they have visited the Wampanoag villages, could have expected the same hospitality in return.

There was no turkey on that first Thanksgiving menu (yet another folksy addition to the story). Instead, they ate mainly venison, codfish, boiled pumpkin, wild berries, and something called the Three Sisters (a mixture of maize, beans, and squash). Potatoes were in abundance, but the English thought they were poisonous and would not touch them.

This story remained a respected and revered part of our American allegory for centuries. The Continental Congress issued a first National Proclamation of Thanksgiving in 1777. George Washington declared a day of Thanksgiving on October 3, 1789, but national celebrations of Thanksgiving were hit and miss dependent upon the whims of presidents until the American Civil War. It wasn't until 1863 when President Abraham Lincoln proclaimed a National Day of Thanksgiving to be set for late November. There has been an annual observance every year since then. In 1941, Congress set the permanent date for Thanksgiving on the fourth Thursday of November. President Roosevelt signed it into law, and Americans have been celebrating our collective thanks on that day every since.

Ours is a rich, folksy, unique holiday that is rooted in history and steeped in significance with a bit of quirkiness thrown in (such as the President of the United States and his annual pardoning of the White House turkey). An American Thanksgiving is a celebration of the welcome of strangers (even those who cost you), the forgiveness of enemies, the acknowlegment of mutual dependency, and honoring of the providence of the Almighty.

It is a holiday that addresses the soul of our nation and her people. As we gather around our table today with friends and family, I will pause to reflect on those who have made my journey possible, those with whom I share a mutual dependency, and the Creator whose sustaining presence is an every day reality in my life.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Stubborn

Polarize

"Politics is the art of looking for trouble, finding it whether it exists or not, diagnosing it incorrectly, and applying the wrong remedy" (Ernest Benn).

It is not at all coincidental to me that Election Day in the United States is ushered in annually by a holiday that is all about tricks, goblins, masks, and fear. The dark tide starts rising in September, and society as a whole seems to ride the tide of cynicism and fear until around Thanksgiving when we are feeling good again. Perhaps it was wisdom on the part of Congress in 1845 to establish a permanent Election Day to fall after the bliss of summer and before the joy of the holidays, coinciding with the time of year when all color and life seems to fall into decay and the realities of winter set in...

On the ballot this year in Denver is a City and County Ordinance to determine whether or not Denver should create an "extraterrestrial affairs commission to help ensure the health, safety, and cultural awareness of Denver residents and visitors in relation to potential encounters or interactions with extraterrestrial intelligent beings or other vehicles..."

I kid you not.

This, ironicly, from the same city that legalized "medical marijuana" not too long ago....

But I digress.

Like many Americans, I find myself somewhere in the middle of it all wondering where the moderate voices are and why everything seems so polarized to the "right" and the "left". I hear about this "massive middle" but see no signs of it anywhere as if its presence were merely ethereal in nature. Our political candidates seem to represent the extremes but miss the majority middle who want neither in office. Our churches seem split along lines of right and left, trumpeting their causes, all claiming to be on the "side of God" yet fighting against brother and neighbor.

We divide and conquer one another on TV ads, religious publications, and in our day to day interactions. We are bombarded with information and images and inculcations that seem to stifle sanity and mute God's Spirit.

And who is above it?

No matter how "right" we may be, if we don't bear on our lives the defining mark of love, our words, our politics, our positions are nothing. We do not need to draw up the battle lines, choose sides, and march head-long into the conflagration. If we are engaged in battle, it is a battle we have chosen. Perhaps the middle is so silent because of its refusal to be dragged into the maelstrom. Perhaps they have chosen another Way.

At the end of the day, I have a great respect for those who disregard the fray and go quietly on their way serving the God and humanity they love, not drawing attention to themselves or jostling for position among men. Peace-makers are often hated people, a judgment they are willing to accept from those who have drawn the battle lines.

Their loyalty extends beyond the battle lines.

Acceptable

Bridge

"Let us make a dent in the universe" (Steve Jobs).

Anyone who takes a risk runs the risk of being misunderstood. I say, "Risk anyway".

For the longest time, I have felt like odd-man-out in the church and in pastoral ministry. I've always been uncomfortably wedged between generations who understand little of each other and who come from exceedingly different sets of circumstances. I feel just as at "home" serving my brothers and sisters gathered as I do with my friends, neighbors, and students scattered. I see no distinction in the Kingdom of God either serving the church or serving those outside our communities of faith, and I celebrate both opportunities.

I have to admit though, as a pastor, sometimes I feel completely misunderstood by those outside the church...as though I were reviled, feared, or mistrusted. On the other hand, when I give my time to those outside the church, I feel misunderstood by those "inside"...as though I were back-sliding, turning liberal, or losing my way. I've come to realize there are many on the outside who will never understand those on the inside as well as many on the inside who will never understand those on the outside.

I guess that's why the bridge-builders are so important...for both groups.

Bridge-builders run the risk of being misunderstood by both groups they are trying to reach. Our personal comfort demands staying on our own side, cut off and sheltered from the other. The convenience of our distance allows us to feel more self-righteous and superior. Learning to cross over and engage each other just might challenge our lazy thinking and confront some of our own inadequacies and dirty little secrets. We'd rather launch verbal volleys at one another from a distance than take the risk of engagement.

Thank God for the bridge-builders who follow the example of Jesus and cross boundaries led by God's Spirit!

Richard Rohr, author of "From Wild Man to Wise Man" says this: "...balancing love of self with love of the other makes for moral integrity, just as in true love making. It is holding my own boundaries, while also going beyond them for the sake of others (p. 121)." I'm not sure how we've come to believe that giving of ourselves to the "other side" is a bad thing. Whose battle lines are we paying attention to anyhow?

A few years back, I remember speaking at a church regarding our ministry in Ireland. During the question and answer time, a respected gentleman expressed his curious frustration at how the coffee shops of our town were as important to us as the gathering of saints. Conceptually, he could not understand how essentially important those moments of friendship, connection, and conversation were with those who did not consider themselves Christian.

Conceptually, I could not understand how he could not.

I doubt seriously whether the Spirit of God recognizes all the boundaries and borders we have established. It would do us good to remember that apart from Christ, we are all aliens and foreigners! Jesus gave his life to bridge a very great chasm.

To the bridge-builders, to those who build bridges to connect and have the audacity to cross fearlessly, I commend you.

We all need you.

Stir

Rest

"Sometimes the most urgent thing you can possible do is take a complete rest" (A. Brilliant).

Message received loud and clear!

Somewhere toward the beginning of last week, my body began sending me signals that I needed to take it easy. As someone who loves my job, I, of course, chose to ignore the problem and continue on my feet in the classroom all the while trying to ignore the increasing pressure in my lower back. That was a mistake.

On Friday, I could barely get out of bed and was practically in tears on my way out of the house and into my truck to head to work. I knew I needed to be home, but it was the last day of class for my Discovery students, and we had a special event planned for them that I did not want to miss. Whether it was my stubborness or a just heightened sense of self-importance that made me head off to school is your guess.

I got to school, and my principal assisted me back out the door. I went home and straight to bed and there remained until Sunday morning. I read an entire book and started another, took a few naps, and caught up with friends on the phone. I said "no" to my obligations and other plans of interest, and remained confined within the walls of my house.

And it was refreshing.

It is easy for us to get caught up in the Sabbath legislation and forget the purpose behind God's command to rest. As it turns out, resting is an important aspect to our physical, mental, emotional, and spiritual health and well-being, but we don't do it very well. It wasn't too long ago that I read an article that explained how with modern technology, we are actually fitting 31 hours worth of work and activity into our 24 hour days. I wonder how long this can go on before each of us reaches our limit?

Even our Christian Sabbaths (Sundays) can be filled with so much obligation, preparation, and responsibility that there is little time left for the kind of quality rest that replentishes and renews. We talk often about addictions to drugs, alcohol, and other things but choose to ignore our addiction to busyness, which is just as destructive. Our American obsession with "productivity" and how that ties into our value and usefulness to society causes us to ignore some of our most fundamental needs -- like rest and worship and time with the people we love.

Isn't it funny how I always crave Chick-fil-A or need something from Hobby Lobby for student projects on Sundays? I respect their ability to not cave in to the money that can come from the Sunday market, but more importantly, I appreciate that they give their employees the opportunity to rest (whether they choose to rest or not).

I had no choice but to rest this weekend, so being incapacitated by lower back pain that restricted my every move might not have been such a bad thing in hind sight. That said, I will gladly accept the recovery!

After all, I head back to work on Monday.

Repent

Service

"Be alert to give service. What counts a great deal in life is what we do for others" (anonymous).

I have a lot of fondness for the "peculiar people" among whom I was raised. The Brethren -- and other Anabaptists among them -- do things differently on occassion, and it is many of those things that set them apart that I appreciate now more than ever. Most notably influential in my life was the bi-annual observance of the Footwashing as a part of Love Feast, the three-part Brethren observance of communion.

I kid you not when I tell you that those experiences of washing other people's feet and having my own feet washed were profoundly influential in my nurture and development as a young follower of Christ. John 13 recounts the story of Jesus washing the disciple's feet, and there are fewer chapters in the bible that have influenced the way I live my life more than that one. Whether we believe Jesus' instruction to "do as I have done for you" is to be taken literally or figuratively isn't so much the issue to me, but his instruction to serve clearly is!

The washing of feet went out of fashion a long time ago, and I find it remarkable (and admirable) that there are still people who practice it as a part of their modern, Christian experience. Many people react negatively to this idea of washing someone else's feet, but I can tell you from experience that that's not the most difficult or uncomfortable part of the process. I can relate with Peter in how difficult (and humbling) it is to have other people wash my feet. To be served in such a way is not easy at all.

Washing and being washed are two sides of the same coin, really. It is just as important for me to admit my need and allow my brothers and sisters to come along side my life as it is for me to come along side of them. We need this mutuality! I admit that it is much more difficult for me to be transparent and open about my struggles and needs and to call out for help than to reach out and serve others in their need. I find little or no difficulty in walking with others through the muck and mire, but it is strangely challenging to have others getting dirty while walking with me.

"Unless I wash you, you have no part with me."

There is something to be said about how allowing others to serve us in our need builds community and friendship, love and trust like nothing else. The 1923 Brethren Pastor's Manual says that feetwashing is "love humbling itself for service...such a brotherly love that one is willing to make a sacrifice for the sake of making one's brother purer and better." There is no doubt in my mind that service of that sort and kind fosters love and sacrifice, nurtures humility and mercy, and brings healing and cleansing to both those serving and those being served.

Footwashing -- and its implication for life -- is one of the most sincere shapers of my Christian experience, and some of my most profound spiritual experiences have come through serving others and being served.

Both have cost me.

Both have brought me life.

Both are good and right.

There are fewer moments when I sense the closeness of God then when I am "washing another's feet" or "being washed" myself. In those sacred moments, the Spirit of God is present and the ministry is mutual.

We are serving Christ.

Christ is serving us.

We are serving one another.

"Where two or more are gathered in my name, I am there..." (Jesus).

Study

Scripture

"Most people are bothered by those passages of Scripture they do not understand, but the passages that bother me are those I do understand" (Mark Twain).

Digging through an old chest full of memories last week, I stumbled across an old bible that had belonged to my mother. Other than records of her marriage and the births of those in our family, the only other writing in the book were a few verses that she had underscored (Matthew 10:32-33; Mark 8:34-38; and Luke 12:8,9). In all three passages, Jesus seems to be saying the same thing, so it caused me to wonder what my mother had been hearing from God so significantly those fifty-odd years ago.

Do you ever get this sneaky suspicion that you are being read when you read the Scriptures, as though Someone were peering into the window of your soul that you forgot to close? I have experienced that "living and active" part of God's word many times. I find quite often that while I am reading, the Spirit of God is reading me. It's as if he is leaning over my shoulder and whispering into my soul.

I've lost track of how many times I have experienced what Fr. Richard Rohr calls "the right hand and left hand of God". He says, "God clearly loves us with both left and right hands, total demands (commandments) combined with pure, unearned grace" ("Adam's Return", p. 85). This explains why sometimes as I read Scripture, I feel comforted while other times I feel disciplined. Sometimes it refreshes; sometimes it stings. Sometimes his presence is appreciated; sometimes it feels a bit invasive.

It's all the same God speaking.

I must confess, however, that the bible simply as knowledge doesn't really interest me that much. The inner work of transformation does. I've known people who were masters of biblical trivia -- people who would be able to skunk Moses in a quiz on Exodus --but don't possess an ounce of love for God or charity for their fellow man. The recitation of bible stories can do wonders for communicating truths about God, but that transformative element where the Spirit of God communes with our spirit to bring alignment and life...now that's the good stuff!

I've read the bible, and I've been read by the bible...and I know the difference. Reading a book on marriage can be a good thing, but it is no replacement for actually being married. Some of my most profound spiritual experiences have come through being "read like a book" as I moved through the pages of God's word.

It is inspiring.

It is invasive.

It is cutting.

It is healing.

God comes close, and it is significant.

"How sweet are your words to my taste, sweeter than honey to my mouth" (Psalm 119:103).

Friendship

Place

"But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed" (Luke 5:16).

Isolated, wild places have always been spiritual places to me, and they have been the source of some of my most profound experiences of life and faith. I find it difficult to explain the sense of life and perspective that comes from removing myself from the busyness of city and planting myself in the midst of wild beauty.

I find God in those places.

It's not that he isn't among us in the Denver metro area. I've experienced his presence in the classroom and the living room, in traffic jams and coffee houses, in large crowds and one-on-one street corner conversations. Nor does he exist only in trees and rock and landscape since none of those natural things actually are God, but I can certainly touch, feel, and smell the creativity of God and be reminded of my place in his universe.

I suppose it's not that I find God in the desert or on the mountain, but I am certainly better tuned to hear the whispering of his spirit when everything that distracts or drowns is gone. I enjoy being stripped of all that is artificial and man-made only to sit exposed, raw, and real before him and without all those "things" upon which I have built my life. I can sit alone with my thoughts and sense the straightening-out that God alone can do when we take the time to be one on one.

He restores my soul.

When I am in the wild places, I go there in the tradition of the Desert Fathers, the Apostles, the Patriarchs, the Prophets, and Jesus -- all of whom went to wild places to commune with God stripped from distraction. They, too, knew the value of those lonely places and were nourished by every word that came from the mouth of God!

A couple weeks back, I joined my friend Jonathon in the Great Basin Desert on the Utah/Nevada state line. As we were driving along US 50, we came across a large, dry lake bed that seemed to stretch for nearly 30 miles. Never satisfied with staying on the main road, we took a diversion and headed out into the desert to find access to this fascinating landscape. Upon reaching the edge of this ancient lake bed, we left the truck behind and walked.

Surrounded by this vast expanse, I was keenly aware that I was but one small dot. I felt small but significant. I thought about those things which seem to loom large over my life, and standing in this great, open landscape seemed to put even those things into perspective.

Perspective.

Peace.

Presence.

I felt the ministry of God's spirit in that place, if only for a moment. A moment was all I needed.

Those solitary places are important to me, and so are the people with whom I share my life. Through both people and place, the Father continues to meet me.

In the next article, I will write about how I feel God meets me in service.

Opposite

People

"While Jesus was having dinner at Matthew's house, many tax collectors and 'sinners' came and ate with him and his disciples" (Mt. 9:10).

When I was a child and on up through my teen years and beyond, I was afraid of people due to a lack of self-confidence and a deep-seeded insecurity that I'm sure sprung from my fatherlessness. My fear of people, consequently, kept me at a distance and made it rather difficult to establish deep, connected relationships with others unless they were willing to go the extra mile to meet me. I spent a lot of my early years missing out on substance and depth and the life-giving good stuff that comes from those inter-personal connections.

The writer of the Psalms says, "God sets the lonely in families" (68:6), and that has certainly been the story of my life. Even before I knew the significance of deep, connected human relationships, God began placing significant people in my life and began the process of healing even while I was unaware. I recognize the sacred, strategic placement of specific people in my childhood who I am certain brought the incarnational touch of God into my life. Fast forward to the present day, and God continues to meet me in such a way.

I believe as a follower of Christ matures, there begins a necessary outward focus of one's life. While we continue to receive the Father's ministry in our own lives, we are compelled by the Spirit of Christ within us to love and serve others as Christ. For me, this means that where God served me, I am serving others; the place where God met me, I meet others.

It is in the presence of people that I have some of my most profound, spiritual experiences.

When we take the time to be with people, I believe the Spirit of God is present whether I am with other believers or not. Where I go, he goes, and that gives every human interaction the potential for sacred significance. Those hundreds of daily interactions with students, friends, neighbors, family, and strangers become substantial as we bring the presence of God into their lives and deposit something of worth and value. I am keenly aware of this potential everyday as I seek to serve my students...

Where I go, he goes.

Incarnation.

The Spirit of God connecting with flesh and blood.

What a novel idea!

I've got a lot of time for people, and I enjoy those expected and unexpected interactions with others. It's satisfying to be with people and recognize the imprint of the Creator in their soul and enjoy their company as Jesus enjoyed the company of those whose tables he gathered around. It's good, also, to recognize my dependence on others and to be reminded of my dependence upon God. As I seek to follow Christ, I know now more than ever my need for interdependence and to trust his work in my life through those who come close. I do not want to live outside of this community.

Although there are times when I appreciate and need solitude and quiet places, I will not dismiss my call to come along side people and to allow the Father to do the same in my life through others.

In the next article, I will explore how I believe God meets me in place.

Dirty

Contact

"We are spiritual beings on a human journey."

I had a lot of time to myself over the weekend as I traveled 17 hours round trip to spend some time with a friend of mine. As if by design, my CD player in my truck quit working at the time I was crossing 500 miles of desert with few people in need of any sort of radio station. Consequently, I was left with my own thoughts and the ever-invading presence of God.

Not that I minded.

It was a great weekend, one of those weekends that refreshed and replenished what my normal day-to-day living can take out of me. In between the random John Denver and Pete Seeger songs that I couldn't get out of my head, I found myself thinking about some of my deepest and most profound spiritual experiences. When I say "spiritual experience", I am not talking about some artificially LSD induced euphoria or a sensational moment of enlightenment, but I refer to those places where I believe God continually meets me, those places where I sense a closeness to God.

Contact.

Although I've been warmed in the embrace of God through prayer and meditation, I've seen the miraculous before my eyes, and I've fallen on my face when confronted with painful life lessons, I realize that my most substantial moments of spiritual formation didn't come through the most common or even expected of Christian conduits. Those deep, inner moments of significance with God in my life have been primarily built around the frameworks of people and place, scripture and service.

Some would say that our experiences with God should be similar and uniform, and so they prescribe rituals and traditions to help their people embrace God and experience a sense of his presence. One of my most profound spiritual experiences comes through the ordinance of feet washing according to John 13 and as practiced among many congregations and Christian communities.

While I value the place of tradition, I'm not so convinced that simply following prescribed formulas produce great moments with God. They may or they may not. How often have I heard the following formula as the path to God: read the bible + pray + go to church + don't sin = success in the Christian life! How many believers have followed that formula only to feel disenfranchised, disappointed, and distant from God and then be told to read more, pray more, attend more services, and sin even less.

Most of those profound moments with God have been outside the sanctuary (or even the sanctioned).

While I value the spiritual disciplines, I sometimes wonder if God isn't a bit more creative in how he chooses to approach us and connect with us. What else can explain his presence at the table, or the encounter on the street with a homeless man that leaves me feeling as though I had just served Christ, or the peace with God I get in the middle of the wilderness? He knows our language, and he knows our need. I'm sure he knows just how to connect.

I am going to take some time to write about those four places where I believe God continually connects with me in the next few articles.

Ego

Hear

"It's a rare person to hear what he doesn't want to hear" (Dick Cavett).

Ego is a powerful thing. And when it is shouting, it is hard to hear the voice of God above it.

Our headlines have been full of people who claim to speak for God but carry little evidence that they have actually heard God. We have, again, been witness to man's ego attempting to usurp God's Kingdom, and when that happens, destruction follows. All sorts of evils can be unleashed by the tongue of a man who dares to misrepresent God. "Consider what a great forest is set on fire by a small spark" (James 3:5). Though a small spark, things can quickly become enflamed by the winds of modern, global communication. A small man can do great harm.

It wasn't too many years ago that the damage of words was limited to word of mouth. We'd gossip at church or speak ill of our neighbor or call each other names on the playground, but the damage never went very far. Today, a small man leading his miniature empire of 50 people can stir up winds of unrest and hatred the world over. Suddenly, our words have become much more significant.

And dangerous.

It's easy for the self to take over and do the convincing that we are speaking on behalf of God. This is nothing new, however, since the biblical record is full of the stories of false prophets. Although they unleashed damage, false prophets were usually "taken care of" by either God's people or God himself. In our latest example of a man who does not speak for God, we can only hope that the voices of God's people will be heard above his.

I appreciate and respect words, and I love to write them. I know many of the people who read this blog from time to time, and many of them are people I know and trust. Some of them are people with whom I would disagree on a few things here and there, but they are important to me nonetheless. When I write, I think about them. My conscience keeps me aware of my brothers and sisters in faith, and their unwitting presence in my writings keeps me accountable. I know I must think very thoroughly about what I write, and their distant presence in my life causes me to go again and again to the scriptures we love. I do not want to misrepresent.

As a teacher (and husband and friend and pastor, etc.), I know how incredibly destructive words can be. I do those in my life a great disservice when I forget the power of my words and use them for harm. How many people carry with them the scars of wounding words? How much damage has been done by those responsible for speaking life but have instead spoken words of death and destruction?

The false prophets will always be with us (and they will be shouting). How much more important is it that we hear the true Voice of God and speak words of life?

"If I speak in the tongues of men and angels but have not love, I am only a noisy gong or clanging cymbal."

I Corinthians 13:1

Mouth

Title

Itch

"It's easy to be brave from a safe distance" (Aesop).

I am a huge fan of the road trip, and no matter where I have lived, I've piled up the miles in search of people and place. I will eat bread and cheese, bathe in rivers, and sleep in tents to be able to afford that extra tank of gas to get me to that desired destination of discovery. I've been accused of having "itchy feet" , and I'm not going to deny it. Truth is, I would rather spend a weekend out...

My road trips have changed with every move. My friends in Ireland used to joke that I knew the country better than they did, and I used to joke in return that the government needed to build a bridge to Britain soon because I was running out of Irish road trip possibilities. Even now, living in America's west, there is so much to see within a day's drive. To the north, I can walk the sacred spaces of the Black Hills or smell sulfur as it belches from the earth at Yellowstone. To the east, I can camp on an open prairie while listening to the music of coyotes and dream of a time when buffalo roamed freely. To the south, I can explore dwellings of ancient civilizations and hear storytellers recount epic tales of the wild west. To the west, I can traverse mythological landscapes of painted red and carved stone that defy man's imagination. In my own backyard, the Rockies reach to just over 14,000 feet and provide numerous opportunities hiking, camping, and seeing wildlife.

It's all so close.

(Well, close if you live here.)

When I lived in Indiana, I only dreamed about the places I get to see on a regular basis now. What used to cost me precious vacation days now can be explored on weekends or long evenings with very little cost at all. Living in close proximity has its advantages. I have enjoyed this opportunity to live "close".

I lived "close" in Ireland, enjoying people and place, delighting in the history and culture of the people I found myself in the midst of. I couldn't get enough of the place (and I still can't), but I suppose that's perfectly normal for a missionary called out of his home to make a new home in another culture. I might have itchy feet, but I think it's a holy itch.

I can't really explain it, but I think it's important for us to get to know what (and who) is near us, to get a sense of it all, and listen for the whispers of God. For many of us though, I wonder if we are too afraid to wander from the familiar. We keep to ourselves and make up our minds that the distance is too great, the cost is too dear, and the danger is too real.

Instead, we only dream of other places and people. We convince ourselves that "here" is best, and -- with an added dose of cynicism -- we can easily talk ourselves into a position of self-imposed superiority. Before long, we find ease in casting judgment on entire groups while confidently preaching from our pulpit made of distance. Such is the path of rigorous nationalism, rampant fundamentalism, or pompous egotism.

It's quite a different perspective when you get close.

The way I see it, we could use a few more people with the holy itch and willingness to wander away from where we're used to hanging our hat. Missionaries are made of such people, but even the journey to the neighbor's front door -- for some -- might be the trip of a lifetime. Even the greatest of all road trips begins with walking out your own front door.

Better

Life is better with people in it.

For those of you in my life, your presence in it does not go unnoticed!

Thanks for being part of my story.

Confession

"A true spiritual leader makes it safe for you to show yourself..." (R. Rohr).

The Anabaptist tradition of my upbringing instilled within me an appreciation for a doctrine called "The Priesthood of All Believers" which is an idea that we need no mediator between ourselves and God except Christ. (That's just part of the doctrine, really.) I was taught that I didn't need a priest to go to God and find forgiveness because that's what Jesus does. I wonder, though, how much of this belief gets translated into idealistic individualism that says, "I don't need a priest, and I also don't need you."

We do need each other.

By and large, there is a rejection of "confession" as a notion and as a practice among Protestant traditions, and many believers particularly reject confession as practiced by our Catholic brothers and sisters. Even within the Catholic community, the confessional is gradually falling out of use. I think the absence of confession is leaving a gaping hole in the spiritual health of the church. Let me explain.

Despite the mandate of scripture that we should confess our sins, many of us continue to keep our sin and struggles well tucked away from all others, wrestling with them quietly and giving those things leverage over our lives. I like what James wrote in chapter 5 verse 16 in the context of prayer and healing: "Therefore, confess your sins to each other and pray for each other so that you may be healed." The "each other" part is very significant here. If James were convinced that healing came from a man praying for himself, he would have said so. There must be something significant about bringing your sins and struggles to others.

The Christian faith must be lived in mutuality.

There's a big difference, too, in confessing your sins to one another and confessing your sins to everyone. Although we are a "kingdom of priests", not everyone can be trusted with the special care, grace, and discernment required for healthy confession. I wouldn't expose my jugular to anyone with a knife and a reputation for using one, nor would I confess my sins and struggles to someone who would use such information for leverage, power, or destruction.

True confession would lead to love (not leverage), freedom (not control), and healing (not condemnation). It would look like Jesus.

The point of confession among believers isn't just the forgiveness of sin but is also healing. I have experienced the washing away of guilt or pain or darkness when I have confessed my weaknesses, struggles, and sins with a trusted brother or mentor. For men especially, getting thoughts outside of the darkness of our minds can be liberating enough to bring about tremendous healing and re-set our course in the right direction. We don't do well alone with our thoughts.

Confession is also a sign of the spiritual health of a congregation and the individual believer. I think when people feel safe enough to confess, it surely must reflect an authentic presence of mercy and wisdom in the life of the one's hearing the confession. I tell you this...it is certainly humbling to be on the receiving end of someone's deepest confession. There are fewer things, in my experience, that are received with such a weight of responsibility.

It is my belief that people discover the love and grace of God when they experience it from God's people. By the look of things, I'd say we could use a little more of it.

Remedy

Life

Transparency

"Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" (Jesus, Mt. 5:3).

Where grace persists and people take seriously the communion of the Body of Christ (in other words, the community of followers of Christ), you will see transparency at work. I think our level of transparency with one another is a sign of health in a church and a measure of the loving, restorative nature of our ministry to one another.

Transparency is good for us. All of us.

Transparency puts to death our need to preserve our reputation rather than pursue true spiritual formation. Rather than giving in to the urge to portray ourselves as something we are not, honesty and transparency about our weaknesses keeps us dependent upon God's grace (and others!). Even Paul, whom many admire as a great man, understood the important role of "the thorn" to keep us from becoming conceited and in a state of dependence. For as much as we read all the bravado in Paul's writings, we cannot skip over his level of transparency and honesty about his own life!

Transparency liberates from the guilt and condemnation that comes from battling things privately in the secret confines of our own minds. I know it to be true for myself...when I talk things out with a trusted friend, things aren't nearly as dark and dismal as I had played them up to be. I've known a lot of personal healing through bringing thoughts out of the "darkness" in my mind and bringing them into the light or open. This has been one of my favorite aspects of authentic community!

Transparency teaches and leads others through our example. When we determine to live in transparency, others learn through us and often find the freedom to discover tangible grace for themselves. Doctrines and dogmas, facts and statistics do little to sway people, but the sharing of one's own personal stories, warts and all, can cause people to relate to the inner working of God's Spirit like nothing else.

Transparency stimulates gracious, merciful living towards others. I am convinced that the reason why people find it so difficult in practicing mercy is because of how little they have experienced it themselves. Once we have opened ourselves to being beneficiaries of the grace of God, we have the grace to dispense towards others. Mercy begets mercy, and it starts to defeat whatever remains of the "unmerciful servant" in us (Matthew 18). I believe it causes us to be less uptight and less judgmental of others and helps to develop an appetite within us for bringing people to life!

Through trusted honesty, our real, raw humanity can be met with the tangible grace of God. Richard Rohr, a Franciscan priest with a men's ministry I admire, said this: "A man who owns his limitations and weeps over his sin is much more effective than one who thinks he has neither." Transparency and honesty -- especially in authentic community -- keeps us real and keeps us dependent (though we may fear both!).

A month ago, I was talking with a colleague who happened to be very outspoken at a team meeting while challenging some things that were coming out of his manager's mouth. I admired his ability to speak the truth on behalf of all of us, knowing that he was risking his job in the process. When I began to heap my admiration upon him, he stopped me and said this: "I don't want you to be under the impression that I am a brave man. I've just got a great job offer in the works and I have nothing to lose!"

I laughed.

How true! We've got nothing to lose! Apart from Christ, I have no reputation before God. "Jesus Christ is my only reason for boasting."

Light

"You are the light of the world..." (Jesus).

Illuminate.

Hide

"...confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed" (James 5:15).

The most common threat every child carries with them in their prepubescent vocabulary is the phrase "I'm going to tell on you!" Such threats can strike fear into the hearts of children in playgrounds and on monkey bars everywhere. Generally, there were just a handful of students who had the reputation of being tattlers, but we learned to avoid them altogether or alter our conversation and behavior whenever they came around. We learned how to survive by mistrusting those who couldn't keep their mouth shut or pretending to be doing something else whenever they were around.

As adults, we've perfected these techniques first learned in childhood. We were taught to hide, but we mastered concealment and secrecy by our teen years and on into adulthood. This, unfortunately, can have serious consequences for our mental health and even spiritual development and transformation. Our emotional, mental, and spiritual health is always tied into community, so whenever we attempt to "go at it alone", we seldom find success or resolve -- quite the opposite, in fact. Community, especially authentic Christian community that is immersed in wisdom and grace, has trememdous power to transform and heal. Despite biblical counsel to confess our sins to one another, it is probably not broadly practiced among believers today. It may be normal to hide, but it is not healthy.

"...confess your sins to each other and pray for each other that you may be healed" (James 5:15).

I think there are generally two reasons why people hide their struggles and sins, soft spots and sore points: shame and protection. I can understand both. No one likes to air their dirty laundry in the presence of others. Shame and the subsequent act of hiding is one of the oldest recorded behaviors of man (Genesis 3). God, in his mercy, made a covering for them so they would not be ashamed. So, too, should we be careful to cover those who have either been made vulnerable or have exposed themselves by their own choosing.

As far as protection, anyone who has had the awful experience of having their secrets or insecurities used as leverage against them by people who seek to manipulate and control has obvious and credible reasons to keep themselves tucked safely away. Why would anyone openly invite judgment, condemnation, ridicule, or isolation? I am convinced many people don't seek out confession within the Body of Christ because they do not feel safe to do so.

Our fear of one another causes us to bear false witness.

Hiding, among other things, prevents us from experiencing transformative grace, robs us of authentic living and deep community, increases our isolation, feeds self-destruction, and stunts the spiritual maturity and growth of the church. It gives us a sense of false-security but never quite takes away the fear of being found out. That's why the security is false.

When I first went into ministry, there were any number of elder pastors who advised me to be sure to never develop deepened, trusting relationships within the congregations I served. While I should move close to the people I was called to serve, I was advised never to allow them too close to me. For some reason, it was important to keep the insecure, weak, or worried parts of me hidden while the man of strength took center stage. I don't believe this now, and -- quite frankly -- it didn't sit right with me when I first heard it. What an unhealthy approach to life (and ministry)!

One of those irkish little things about being a pastor is how quickly some people morph and change their behavior whenever I am around. I say "some" because I have been priviledged to be around many truly authentic people. Just occasionally, I get to witness the verbal acrobatics some people perform in order to pull off the act of concealment. It's awkward. It makes me feel awkward, and they look awkward. I prefer the company of the authentic over pretense and posturing any day, yet I can understand why some would do it.

I can never forget those countless moments with youth and grown men who have quietly, in the confines of safe places, relieved themselves of the secrets of their hearts, the battles of the mind, or the bruises of yesteryear and found healing and redemption in Christ. I have seen grown men weep and broken men laugh as the mercy of God intersected with their greatest need.

Often I have heard comments about how young people these days are "so far out there". I believe what we are often observing is their backlash against face, pretense, and hiding -- a rebellion against the inauthentic...and this is one of the traits of post-modernism. They want to be known. While I can appreciate their "soul streak", many of them still lack the community and support of those who can offer the foundational things that they are craving. I dream of a church with a heart prepared to engage and serve others at their greatest point of need.

The survival techniques of our youth don't necessarily do us any good as we grow towards maturity. The challenge is in finding our way forward...

Next article "Transparency".

Alike

Face

"Most people spend their entire lives projecting, protecting, and maintaining this fiction" (Richard Rohr).

Zhang Haihua, author of "Think Like Chinese" says this about image: "Face, we say in China, is more important than life itself." I read this quote in an article written about how Chinese businesses hire white people to show up at events in order to give their products or services legitimacy. These businesses and institutions hire actors to show up, speak a few lines in English that no one understands, and be seen. Apparently, the illusion of white involvement sells. The actor gets paid before moving on to his next gig.

This need for self-misrepresentation isn't, however, just a Chinese phenomenon. We, too, live in a culture obsessed with image and illusion. From the time we are young, we are taught to put our best face forward and hide any part of us that might bring ridicule or judgment. We've mastered this in the church as well and have therefore missed out on a dynamic aspect of our lives together. In our efforts to keep up a reputation, many of us have simply faked it to make it.

In the backrooms of trust and grace, I have encountered many people whose need for acceptance and love was so great that they found it necessary to hide the parts of themselves they felt would be judged by others (struggles, insecurities, fears, sins, etc.). Whether we want to admit it or not, we in the church may be guilty of creating the very hypocrisy we hate. Rather than finding the safety in the Body of Christ for true confession, we keep those parts well hidden for fear of judgment, isolation, and rejection -- or shame. Consequently, if a person's struggles, weaknesses, or sins become public, they often get hammered by those who wouldn't have tolerated their transparency in the first place but still accuse them of "pretending to be something they are not".

Actress Salma Hayek once said, "So many people are busy trying to create an image, they die in the process." (Did I really just quote Salma Hayek?) I can't imagine the consequences of a humanity more interested in image than substance, but we don't need to look too far to see its effect on the human heart, mind, soul, and body. Perhaps this is one of many reasons why confession is so desperately needed in order to bring healing, grace, and mercy to man's condition caused by a pagan individualism that keeps him trapped in his own mind and a victim of his own battles.

I've been thinking about the subjects of hiding, transparency, and confession lately as I've been reading about ancient Christian practices. I still believe the church is called to that place where Jesus intersects with the world's needs, and I can't help but believe that followers of Christ who live their lives in transparency and who practice confession will have a profound, healing, life-giving presence with neighbors and brothers alike. God knows this generation is crying out for authenticity and transparency.

Image is killing us, but many of us are running after it like it is the source of all life!

"...everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind" (Ecclesiastes 2:11).

Next article "Hide"

Calling

Hospitable

Every believer a priest.

Every home a temple.

Every table an altar.

Every meal an offering.

Every guest a treasure.

Authentic

Words

Ancient Words

Holy words long preserved

For our walk in this world

They resound with God's own heart

O let the ancient words impart

Words of life

Words of hope

Give us strength

Help us cope

In this world wherever we roam

Ancient words will guide us home

Ancient words ever true

Changing me and changing you

We have come with open hearts

O let the ancient words impart

Holy words of our faith

Handed down to this age

Came to us through sacrifice

O heed the faithful words of Christ

Holy words long preserved

For our walk in this world

They resound with God's own heart

O let the ancient words impart.

--Lynn DeShazo

Conform

"Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind" (Romans 12:2).

A friend of mine recently started riding his bike to work several times per week. Coincidently, he began biking to work the week of Denver's Bike to Work day. Never wanting to be a conformist, he decided to drive to work on Bike to Work Day. He simply wanted to bike to work, not be associated with some movement or agenda. He's never been much of one to jump on the bandwagon.

Some would call him stubborn, but I found humor in his little act of non-conformity. I think I have a built-in appreciation for those counter-culture contemporaries in our midst as well as those of long ago who set before us the example of non-conformity, including Jesus Christ.

Read the Gospels, especially Jesus' statements on the Kingdom of God, and you'll see many examples of counter-culture thought: don't resist the evil person, love your enemy, turn the other cheek, go the extra mile, sell all you have and give it to the poor, wash one another's feet, don't store up treasures for yourselves on earth...pretty radical stuff, actually.

The truth is, the Way of Christ will quite often bring us into conflict with the "patterns of this world". Our culture encourages us to consume; Jesus teaches us to give. Our society teaches us to fight; Jesus teaches us the way of peace. Our greed causes us to live for ourselves; Jesus tells us to take up our cross. I don't recall Jesus ever making easy the path to discipleship.

Sometimes I wonder if our compulsive need for acceptance in society is what causes us to conform to so many patterns that do not resemble minds transformed by Christ. Don't get me wrong, I hate rejection. It gets under my skin and can leave my soul groaning for days and weeks afterwards. But I wonder just how often we seek for our legitimacy in other things. How often has our collective desire to be "mainstream" caused us to leave behind some central teachings of Jesus.

Maybe I should really be OK with being "odd". Different.

After all, followers of Christ live differently, love differently, and trust in different things. We may not want to be different (and deal with all the behavior that comes from being different), but we are. Whether I was the fat kid, the poor kid, the white guy, the only American, or having to explain to Christians who the Brethren are because nobody around here has ever heard of them, I've had to adjust to being different than most people around me.

To be honest with you, I've becomed accustomed to being different...and I like it.

Non-conformity is an ageless principle that perhaps we struggle with in our times. I think every generation of believers has wrestled with this perpetual issue. For me, I am concerned about how the patterns of this world are wreaking havoc on body, mind, soul, and spirit. In some cases, I see churches and believers who are exact mirror representations of the society in which they live, comfortable in their fusion of sanctuary and society. On the other hand, I have seen churches and believers who have completely withdrawn from neighbor and the society surrounding them. I'm somewhere in the middle...

We cannot leave the world behind, but I believe we should once again learn to practice discernment as to what in our culture conflicts with the Way of Christ and what does not. While I may reject certain patterns of this world, Jesus teaches me that I cannot reject the people who live in this world. Though we may crave concrete principles and patterns, we must also learn the art of discernment to bring the disciple of Christ into full maturity.

Like my friend who drives on bike day and bikes on drive days, I think it's OK to be different...perhaps necessary.

Danger

Slow

Cost

"Suppose one of you wishes to build a tower. Will he not first sit down and estimate the cost to see if he has enough money to complete it?" (Luke 14:28).

I remember hearing great sermons in the past on "counting the cost of discipleship". They were usually stark reminders of how the disciple of Christ would be rejected by the world and how much we must be willing to pay the price to be a follower of his. I found these sermons to be refreshingly grim reminders that the Way of Christ was not meant simply for our pleasure but for his purpose...and those purposes usually conflict with our desire for comfort, safety, and "success".

I've been thinking of "counting the cost" in other ways lately, not so much in terms of rejection by the world but rather rejection by those you have loved and served. It goes without saying that a lot of what Jesus taught conflicts with the world's systems and values, but to experience the raw, abraisive rejection of those you have given your life to...now that's something else.

That's the Way of Christ.

We often talk of sacrificial love, but I wonder how much I really understand what that means. Sometimes, I think I equate "sacrificial" with money or inconvenience. Is the amount of time and money invested in someone the indicator of "sacrificial"? I'm not so sure. Was Jesus inconvenienced at the cross?

The love of God for humanity took Christ to that hill, and Jesus gave while expecting nothing in return. The very people he gave his life for rejected him at the moment of his sacrifice. And yet he gave. I am humbled by the forgiveness Jesus demonstrated while on the cross, but I am amazed by the willingness to sacrifice his body while possessing the fore-knowledge of the rejection. Love anyhow. I want to love like that. I want to learn from that.

If we want to love like Christ, we can expect nothing in return from those we love and serve. When rejection is heaped upon our gifts, it is easy to say "I'm done" and write the whole matter off...but something in my soul compels me deeper. Can the love of Christ keep me from rejecting those who have rejected me? God, I hope so.

No matter how hurtful, hateful, and venomous the rejection may be, people are worth my time, worth my money, and worth my life. There is, of course, one young man in particular that I am thinking of tonight.

Stick around a church long enough and you might hear something about how Jesus identifies with us in his suffering. Sometimes it is good to have it the other way around. I need to identify with him, grow in him, love like him. Proverbs 4:7 says, "Though it cost all you have, get understanding." It causes me to wonder how much I'm willing to pay to get a better understanding of the Way of Christ.

Served

Frayed

A Thought for the Frayed

I feel so frayed

Like a rug

Trampled on

Torn at the edges

Worn thin in places

The people come

And go

I am left

With my holes

And my flaws.

But there is more

To me than this

I can be more

Because you made me

To be more

I am not a rug

Beaten and scorned

I am something

Beautiful

A tapestry -- a story.

I am loved

My imperfections

Are nothing

To the one Who wove me

He does not see

The worn out holes

Tattered corners

He sees the beauty

I am more

Because he

Made me to be.

-- author unknown