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."