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.

Repent

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

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.

Hospitable

Every believer a priest.

Every home a temple.

Every table an altar.

Every meal an offering.

Every guest a treasure.

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.

Market

"The good life, the blessed life, is found in living as God's sent people" (Todd D. Hunter).

I have often questioned how much we are influenced by our culture around us. Don't misunderstand me...I don't think we should retreat to our Christian conclaves and withdraw ourselves from the world around us. Quite the opposite, in fact. I think followers of Christ should be engaged and involved in the communities in which we find ourselves...loving and serving neighbor.

I guess I struggle a bit with how often we try to imitate the world around us. I don't know whether we do this to find acceptance or because we think this is the key to "attracting them to us". Very often, our imitation of the society we live in (and the methods that society uses) causes us to come off a bit...weird. It can be an uncomfortable experience when we try to imitate the world rather than imitate Christ.

I've been thinking a lot about evangelism lately, and, to be honest with you, I find our "methods" a bit off-putting -- and I have most of my life. It seems that our methods of evangelism imitate the market-driven culture we find ourselves in. I have grown increasingly distanced from our concepts of "selling the gospel" and "growing our brand".

Many of our methods for evangelism could come right out of the "Marketing 101" textbook: 1) have a product, 2) create a brand, 3) come up with slogans, 4) develop the sales strategy and learn techniques for delivery, 5) engage graphics arts to advertize with t-shirts, bumper stickers, ads, and technology. Marketing is intended to identify the customer, keep the customer, and satisfy the customer.

Uh oh. (Did that last sentence give anyone else the creeps?).

Marketing is a process that companies (or churches) use to create consumer interest in our products (the Gospel) and services (the church). I am not sure why this grieves me as much as it does...

A former pastor of mine is fond of saying, "What you win them with is what you win them to". What are they being "won" to? It's a good question. Consumer entitlement? Brand loyalty ensuring life-long commitment and their dollar? New knowlege or philosophy? I'm afraid that pursuing people in this manner seriously misses the point.

Our market-driven approaches to church growth, I feel, have also left segments of the Body of Christ in arrogant competition with one another. When one church grows, usually another church declines. One wins. One loses. While I agree that churches have natural cycles of life and death, our inner-church competition for customers often resembles the competitive pricing I see between Penny's, Kohl's, and Sears (with each trying to win their "market share"). Since we are but One Body, when one loses, we all lose.

We all lose.

I don't like evangelism when it resembles marketing with the latest slogans, cliches, catch-phrases, and products. Neither do I appreciate evangelism that is nothing but words, whether printed or spoken. When I read the Gospels, I see an evangelism that is lived and embodied in our flesh...through our lives...the Living Christ. Words have never been enough, and to follow the example of Jesus, our hands and feet and flesh are required.

People are not a market. People are people, and they deserve our personal interaction, love, and service. Anything else may be disingenuous.

Hate

Honor

Tolerate

Tolerate: to endure without repugnance; to put up with.

Yesterday drew to a conclusion my fifth Discovery class of this school year. As is tradtion, the students and I spend a considerable part of the day expressing our public appreciation to one another and sharing our parting thoughts. We usually do an exercise I call "positive bombardment" during which we shower each student with words of appreciation from their peers and myself. Some classes choose to do the same for me, and it is always a rewarding experience.

When it was my turn in the spotlight, one student thanked me for always seeing the good in (them) and, with tearful expression, shared how much I and the class had made a difference in (their) life. Although (they) were not aware of it, (their) words convicted me to the core. Here's why:

I know my heart. Although I had treated this student with dignity and respect, my heart held other judgments. This student confused my well-disguised tolerance for something better, purer. I knew better. I suppose this is an example of both the ugliness and beauty of tolerance. It's beautiful when a person can treat another human being with decency and respect despite ill-drawn conclusions or personal opinion. It's ugly, on the other hand, when the face of tolerance masks darker thoughts and feelings.

I was happy to know that this student's experience with me and in my classroom was a positive one, but as a follower of Christ, I believe it is important for me to move beyond my pressumptions and judgments...and I hadn't bothered to do that in this circumstance.

It's a fact of life that sometimes we do have to tolerate people whose personalities, life styles, and choices conflict with our own...but we should always aim for something better! I think it cheapens people when we say "I don't like you, but I'll tolerate you."

I think tolerance is part of the journey along the way from intolerance to love. It's good to arrive at tolerance for a little while so long as we are continuing down the road to something better. Tolerance, in and of itself, is not the ideal destination.

Family

Curtis Anthony Powell

We first met Curtis shortly after moving to Colorado in 2008. Curtis was being mentored by our friend Jonathon Stalls, so we'd see Curtis at special events and the occasional community gatherings. In November 2009, circumstances led Curtis to Jon's workplace and doorstep. Since Jon was planning to begin his walk across America on March 1, 2010, Curtis needed a place to stay. When he asked if he could stay with us, we gladly accepted. Curtis moved in in mid-December.

Since then, Curtis has enrolled in the high school where I teach and has excelled in his academic and personal achievement. He has adjusted well to his new family living environment and seems to be loving life. He is discovering what it means to be a son just as much as I am discovering what it means to be a dad. We are so proud of him and are happy to have him as a part of our family.

This past week, Curtis and I took a road trip to South Dakota for some camping and sight-seeing. While there, we learned that a judge in Denver had granted full guardianship rights to Brenda and I for the care of Curtis. Both he and ourselves are delighted! It's been a long process, but we are glad that day is finally here.

Most people who know us don't question the notion of why we bring people home, but once in a while, someone will say, "I don't know how you can do it!" to which I usually reply, "I don't know how you cannot." I see "family" as a right more than a privilege, only these days fewer and fewer are having the opportunity to enjoy that right. Every person deserves the opportunity to experience the love, security, and benefits the sense of family can bring. For ourselves, having Curtis as a part of our family has only added to the richness and fullness of our lives...he has taken nothing away.

Life is better with people in it, and ours is better for sharing this life we've been given with an incredible teenager named Curtis.

Beyond Ordinance

"Now that I, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you also should wash one another's feet" (Jesus, John 13:14).

My church tradition observes the ordinance of feet-washing according to Jesus' example and instructions in John 13. Twice annually, we'd gather in the sanctuary for some hymns and personal reflection before proceeding to the basement or church hall to be seated at the tables. Around the tables, we'd read the account of Jesus washing his disciples feet and remind ourselves again of his mandate that we do the same. The men would retire to one room while the sisters left for another to begin washing and drying one another's feet.

For many of my non-Brethren brothers and sisters in Christ, this tradition seems like one of the more peculiar practices of Brethren groups.

Feet-washing always preceeded the meal, which was usually some modest affair. In the church I grew up in, we'd eat our ham and butter sandwich in "reflective silence" while awkwardly hearing the sweet pickles crunch in our neighbor's mouth. Other churches shared a more traditional "sop" made of break soaked in beef broth while engaging in lively conversation as among family.

Following the meal, we'd take the bread and the cup in rememberance of Christ and usually conclude the evening together by singing "Blessed Be the Tie That Binds".

It's called the "Love Feast".

As awkward as such experiences would be for most, I have always appreciated the symbolism of washing one another's feet. I remember my first such communion experience shortly after my baptism as though it were just last week, and there was something special about being surrounded by my elders as they cared for me and I for them. The sharing of such experiences have been among the highlights of my times in Christian community.

I'm not sure which is more awkward for people: washing or being washed. For some, the idea of touching another person's feet is a put off -- an act they find repulsive and disgusting. Others, however, seem to really struggle with people having to wash their "immodest" parts, and they struggle with being served in such a way. Either way, the discomfort is good for us. Whether we wrestle with being served (as Peter did) or find the task difficult or repulsive to do, Jesus has his reasons in asking us to follow his example.

Whether washing one another's feet or serving someone in their mess (or being served in our mess), Jesus reminds us that we have been redeemed to serve and to come along side humanity as he came along side of us. The example Jesus set before us is one well worth following.

It goes beyond ordinance.

Hate

"Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that" (M.L. King, Jr.).

Every so often, my sense of justice gets ruffled. And just occasionally, the anger I experience because of the perceived injustice morphs into hate. It happens so seldom, so when it does, it disturbs me deeply. I must confess, I am dealing with a little bit of hate these days.

I teach anger management to high school students in an urban setting. It's a bit like trying to teach peace and reconciliation in Baghdad or Palestine, but I am usually pleasantly surprised with what my students take away from the course. Anger, as I teach in my classes, is a normal human emotion. Our anger senses what is right or wrong and motivates us to make things right. It's what we do with our anger, however, that causes us (and others) problems.

Rarely -- but it happens -- I can feel my anger slipping into something much more sinister. I can feel the impact it has on my spirit when I am no longer working for my neighbor's good and find myself instead hoping for some sort of twisted "justice" in which the other people "get what they deserve". Thank God, I don't get what I deserve.

And yet, it is when my heart gets twisted by anger and hatred that God shows me mercy and gently rebukes and reminds me that hatred towards another is no different than murder. The moment my heart hates, I am reminded that I am the one acting injustly. "Do not repay anyone evil for evil" (Romans 12:17). No matter the injustice, hatred is never a just response.

Love is.

I find that when I reach for empathy instead of condemnation, compassion begins to pour into those places that hate once held. Although the frustration with the circumstance may not change, people begin to make more sense and I find myself overcome with a strange peace.

To quote a man who gave his life for the cause of justice, I offer this: "Hatred paralyzes life; love releases it. Hatred confuses life; love harmonizes it. Hatred darkens life; love illuminates it" (M.L. King, Jr). No matter the injustice, we should "let no debt remain outstanding, except the continuing debt to love one another, for he who loves his fellow man has fulfilled the law" (Romans 13:8).

It's a better way to live.

Distance

"Everywhere is walking distance if you have the time" (Steven Wright).

I'm a sucker for a road trip, even when others are taking them instead of me. Our friend Jolene gave my wife a road trip to the nearest In-n-Out Burger as a Christmas gift. We live in Denver; the nearest In-n-Out is in Salt Lake City. Eight hours of open American interstate lay between them and that burger, but they managed to bridge that gap and eat there twice over the course of their weekend together.

Personally, I find In-n-Out Burger to be relatively mediocre, which I know doesn't win me many friends on the west coast. Then again, I'm not from California, and I certainly don't have the same sentimental associations with the place that my California girl does. If I'm going to go out of my way for a burger in America's west, it would probably have to be from Carl's Jr...but it is highly doubtful I would spend an entire weekend trying to get my Guacamole Bacon Burger.

Practically speaking, I can't help but think how much each of those burgers and fries cost when figuring in the cost of gasoline, wear and tear on the car, and any other purchases along the way. But then again, that's not really the point, is it?

While the pursuit of the burger may have been the selling point for the road trip, the journey wasn't really about the burger. There was something much deeper going on. Eventhough In-n-Out might appreciate the lengths and distances people will travel to get their food, I know that this road trip was about the pursuit of friendship and a meaningful existence: two friends journeying together to meet up with a third (Brenda's friend, Janet who lives in Salt Lake).

Though some might judge their little road trip as impractical, irrational, and inane, there are quite a few things about it that I can appreciate. I appreciate the lengths people will go to bridge the distance between themselves and someone they value. I admire people who are willing to sacrifice time and resources to run after what is important to them, particularly when those sacrifices are beneficial for others. Distance traveled can be a measure of devotion. In this particular case, it was more than brand loyalty that took Brenda and Jolene across the west.

Our friend Jonathon leaves in a month to begin his walk across America from Delaware to California. He will spend the better part of a year doing so with pack on his back and dog in tow. His journey isn't some "Into the Wild" escape or running away from life but is instead filled with purpose, beauty, and meaning deeper than many can grasp. San Francisco isn't his goal; the journey is. I can appreciate his journey.

As impractical, irrational, and inane some journey's may seem to others, there can be no arguing with the things that move a man's heart and cause him to go the distance in the pursuit of others. The Christ I admire went the distance for humanity, and he teaches us that leaving the ninety-nine in pursuit of the one is a noble journey. Each of us measures the worth of others by whether or not we are willing to go the metaphorical distance to get to them. Jesus reminds us that people are worth the pursuit, and their value is affirmed in the time spent.

We may seek to quantify whether or not such journeys to help a neighbor or serve a nation are worth the blood, sweat, and tears (or, God forbid, the money). Our consumer culture has taught us this lesson well. But I don't think we should measure the worth of a man according to my convenience, my comfort, or the amount of money spent. Such measurements seem to cheapen a man's soul.

I will always love the journey. For me, the getting there is as important as the destination. The journey is the reward.

Serve

The following is from Hymn56 in the "Ausbund", the 1564 hymnal of Anabaptist martyrs.

What about the neighbor? -- When God's will is done -- Love of God and other -- Two loves become one. -- Jesus asks the question -- We dare not ignore -- "Will you be a neighbor?" -- "Do you love self more?"

What about the neighbor? -- Do we know their needs? -- Do we seek to meet them -- With both words and deeds? -- Christ is our example -- He did not divide -- Love for God and others -- Both stand side by side.

What about the neighbor? -- God requests reply -- Though we claim to love them -- Do our acts belie? -- No matter what others -- May do in return -- They're our sisters, brothers -- Our equal concern.

Love

Response

Noise

"If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or clanging cymbal" (1 Corinthians 13:1). Stop the noise. The Great Commission without the Great Commandment is only just a Great Commotion.

Others

Prohibition

"You are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat it, you will surely die" (Genesis 2:16-17).

Eden must have been a wonderful place. It was there that we lived in the love, provision, and unity of God. Things were as the Creator had intended, and in this present world we find ourselves in, I can find very few places and circumstances that offer me a glimpse of what it might have been like to walk the Garden as Adam and Eve did.

Genesis 2 gives us a very brief view of what this place must have been like, a place where man was truly free. In that place, there was only one prohibition: do not eat from the Tree of the Knowledge of Good and Evil. From the very beginning, the temptation to "be like God, knowing good and evil" was too seductive to refuse. The moment Adam and Eve acquired what they desired, judgment entered our world. All that they had enjoyed was lost with the arrival of this new and hideous knowledge.

The first prohibition in scripture is against seeking or possessing the knowledge of what is good or evil. It is prohibition to judge. Adam and Eve were created to live in the love and security of God -- and nothing else. They were not to judge themselves, each other, or God. Even the idea of possessing this knowledge caused Eve to begin to question God's motives, and from the moment they began to judge, shame entered the world.

This command against judging is a central prohibition in scripture. Jesus spoke against judgment very directly in the Sermon on the Mount found in Matthew 7. Although Lord, Jesus said of himself that he did not come to judge the world (John 12:47). He must have come with some other motive! Even the Apostle Paul, who so many Christians love to quote in their judgment of others, asked, "What business is it of mine to judge those outside of the church?" (1 Corinthians 5:12). He went so far as to say that he didn't think it was appropriate to even judge himself (1 Corinthians 4:3).

With all the explicit warnings against judgment found in scripture, why do so many professed followers of Christ continually justify the practice of it? Why do we continue to make excuses to justify our judgment of the world around us? Despite what the scriptures clearly state, why do we continue to offer exclusion, condemnation, and play-by-play analysis of all those living within the scope of our judgment?

The answer, I believe, is too painful for most of us to acknowledge.

We want to be like God.

I know when I judge, there is something about it that makes me feel good at that moment. It feels satisfying to stand over others in judgment, and I enjoy that position of self-imposed superiority. My focus on the sin of others gives me momentary reprieve from the awareness of the stench of my own sin and brings me a sense of gratification that I am not "as bad as that man". In my mind, I deliver the verdict that separates them from me, and I feel so justified in the process. And, of course, God is always on my side.

Forgive me, Lord...

Just as this "knowledge" brought death to Adam and Eve, when the church tries to be like God, death comes knocking. How many people do I know who are like walking dead, having been destroyed by the judgment of those claiming to speak for God? Why do so many people equate Christianity with judgment? Why are we known for something that should run opposite to who we are and how we live in this world? We turn the order of the entire world upside down when the creation tries to be the Creator, when the created judge the created. No life comes from it.

Jesus couldn't have said it more plainly...we will be held to the same standards that we judge others. God forbid!

As the Holy Spirit exposes the true motives of our judgment of others, we have the opportunity to repent and experience God's forgiveness, grace, and mercy in a way that we have never known. To be free of judgment and live in God's mercy and love is the closest we will get to Eden in these bodies!

The opposite of judgment is love. If the central prohibition in scripture is judgment, the central commission is love (Matthew 22:38-39). When we insist on our right to judge others, it brings us (and others) to a place that couldn't be further from God's intention. It couldn't be more destructive.

And yet we justify it.

"Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven. Give, and it will be given to you. A good measure, pressed down, shaken together and running over will be poured into your lap. For with the measure you use it, it will be measured to you" (Luke 6:37-38).