why most of us are like the nine

Luke records the story (chapter 17) of a meeting between 10 lepers and Jesus on an edge-of-town road.  They plead for pity.  He sends them to the priests.  "As they went," Luke writes, "they were cleansed."


All ten of them.  As they obey the word of Jesus they receive full healing which would have paved the way back to "normal life."


What's most memorable, however, about this scene is what happens next: one of the ten returns to Jesus.  This one "throws himself at the feet of Jesus," thanking him and praising God.

I am more like the nine.


I am so grateful for the gift of healing that I run back to normal life.  I have thanked Jesus with a wave, but mostly I've sighed with enormous relief because I've dodged the bullet.  We're all better now.  It's back to normal life again.  And we like normal.


But I want to be more like the one.


The difference?  Nine are grateful for the gift.  One is grateful for the Giver.  When a person is not just grateful for, but is grateful to, it changes everything.


Life can never truly go back to normal.  

why go to church?

I realized it while on the beach this summer: most of the Christians I know don't know how their faith is connected to their involvement in their church.  


In other words, Christians who go to church don't know why they do.  


And the Christians who don't go to church don't know why they should.   


So I spent some time thinking about this, and we ended up teaching a series on the question in September.  Here's the 90 minutes boiled down to 30 seconds:

1. Christians go to church to be formed.  The consistent practice of regular, intentional, historically-informed worship shapes us.
2. Christians go to church to encourage others.  It's other's needs, other's pain, other's hopes, other's lives that get us out of bed in the morning.  Not our own.  I may not feel like going to church.  But my feelings are not the point.
3. Christians go to church to encounter God and then, to respond.  The God of the Bible has invited us to be with him always, everywhere.  But His pattern is to reveal his love/presence/direction to us especially when we gather with others to worship Him.  We meet with God and then things change.

why endure suffering?

The question all suffering ultimately causes us to ask is, “Why should I endure this?”  “Why not quit?  Why not walk away?  Why not cover this up or drink till I can’t feel it anymore?”

The Apostle Paul gives two good reasons for enduring pain.  The first has to do with me, with my character, my hope for the future, etc.   We hear about that reason a lot.

The second reason he gives (see Phillipians 1:14, 28-30 and 1 Thessalonians 3:7) has nothing to do with me at all.  We rarely, if ever, hear this reason. 

Paul says the reason to endure pain, suffering, the difficulties and challenges we face is for the sake of others. 

This is a radical, beautiful, world-changing approach to suffering.  And it’s difficult.

Enduring suffering for the sake of others requires

            . an understanding that life is not all about me.  In my suffering I may feel like the world is ending, but it’s actually not.  Life is continuing all around me.

            . a recognition that I am connected to others.  Others are watching me.  My children are observing me.   And they’re wondering NOT “will he make it through his pain”, but “will I make it through mine?”

            . a willingness to allow God to use all of me…even my suffering.  Long ago I told God “Use my skills!  Use my strengths!  Use my leadership!”  It never even crossed my mind to say, “God, if you want it, you can use my suffering too.”

Enduring my own suffering for the sake of others declares to all who are watching, “This suffering will not prevail!  Even if it kills me, I will be saved by God.  And the God of life can save you too!”

wisdom lived :: rock

She lost her brother in an accident, her father to suicide, her teenage daughter to an undetected genetic disease.  All within a few years.  And yet she is radiant – overflowing with life and profoundly sincere in her love for Jesus.

He lost his job and he’s devastated.  His faith is gone.  He imagines ending his life. 

Question: why do some emerge from tragedies standing strong while others fall, overwhelmed?

Jesus answers this question directly and simply.  (My modern mind protests, “It must be more complicated than that!”)

"Therefore everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice is like a wise man who built his house on the rock. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house; yet it did not fall, because it had its foundation on the rock. But everyone who hears these words of mine and does not put them into practice is like a foolish man who built his house on sand. The rain came down, the streams rose, and the winds blew and beat against that house, and it fell with a great crash."   - Jesus, (Matthew 7:24)

"In referring to rain, floods and winds Jesus is speaking about all those human circumstances and misfortunes, such as false accusations, plots, bereavements, deaths, loss of family members, insults from others, and all the horrid things in life about which one could speak.  Jesus says that a soul that pursues the way of excellence does not give in to any of these potential disasters."  - John Chrystostom, 4^th Century

Who stands?

            The one who puts Jesus’ teachings into practice.

Against what does she stand?

            The storm. 

            She survives the storm.

behind it all

He's not oversimplifying things.  And he’s not denying the complexities of real life decisions.  But Paul is revealing the root of it all:  There is light.  And there is darkness. 

Ultimately, we must recognize that it comes down to this.   

If I’m keeping something secret, why is that?

If I’m hesitant to reveal a habit, what’s behind that?

If I don’t tell the whole story, what’s really going on there?

If I turn from helping a neighbor, why?

Is it goodness?  Right relationships? Truth?  Or is it something else…something dark?

“Two Ways there are, the way of Life and the way of Death.  And there is a great difference between the Two Ways.” – The Didache 

“Therefore, do not be foolish, but recognize what the Lord’s will is.”  - Paul

truthful compassion

Do I say it like it is?  Or do I just try to help?

Option A: “He’s using you.  He doesn’t love you.  Move out.”  (truth)

Option B: “I know it’s hard.  We love you.  You can call us anytime.” (compassion)

Option A: “You’re addicted.  You’ve lost control.” (truth)

Option B: “Here’s some money.  Take care, OK?”  (compassion)

Somehow, we’ve come to see it as an either/or issue.  Tell the truth OR be compassionate.  But the Apostle Paul’s challenge (Ephesians 4) is to grow up and recognize that it’s actually both/and. 

Real compassion is always truthful AND loving. 

Truth with no love is rarely heard.

Love with no truth rarely helps. 

Jesus: total truth AND real love.  Together. 

Some of the most pivotal moments in my life came when someone spoke the truth to me with love.  Those who changed my life demonstrated a lifestyle of truth-filled compassion.  

salvation and work

How is compassion linked to salvation?

In other words, what has Christ done?  For what purpose? 

                           What can I do?  For what purpose? 

What did Jesus’ work accomplish?  Vs. What does my work accomplish? 

In his letter to the Ephesians (chapter 2), Paul articulates a distinctly Christian understanding of the relationship between works and salvation.  

He says this: 

Our works don't bring us to God, or even close to God.  Salvation is a gift.  It is given.  Completely. It can only be received.  It is not earned.  

One translation puts vs. 8 like this: "You had nothing to do with it."  

But then Paul immediately moves to the purpose of salvation: "to do good works."

So we might summarize Paul's argument like this: We are saved, not by works (v.9), but for works (v.10).  

I'd draw it like this:

Christ's work affects me.  My work doesn't affect Him, but it does affect others.  Christ's gospel is communicated or extended to others through me.

And, in reality, the gospel was communicated to me through others, like this: 

The question isn’t “should you do good works?” 

                  Of course you should. 

         The question is “who are the good works for?” 

                  Answer: For others. For your neighbor.    

matthias at 8 months

god on the job

Recently, at Emmaus, we've been exploring a Christian approach to work.  Here are some of the highlights:


What Do You Do?
Many of us have built (or reinforced) walls between the parts of our lives which seem to be spiritual and the parts that don't.  Consequently, we often don't expect God to relate to our work, or our work to be relevant to our faith.  We opperate according to one paradigm at church, and another at work, thinking we can divide our lives into parts.  But in the end, its not our lives, but we, ourselves, who become divided. 


It's Not About What You Do, part 1:
It's about who you are.  Production doesn't define us.  God does.  "Pharaoh" calls us brickmakers.  Our value is determined solely by how much we make.  But God calls us children. 


It's Not About What You Do, part 2:
It's about how you do it.  Nearly anything can be done in a way that honors God.  (Who you are - not what you're doing - determines how you do it.)  The Christ-follower will put her whole heart into whatever she does.


Finding Meaning in the Mundane
Work is complex because it's so closely linked to creation (Gen. 1:1, 1:27, 2:2-3), but it's also tied to the curse (Gen. 3).  So sometimes work is life-giving; sometimes it's drudgery.  But even in the most mundane, there is meaning:  1. God is in the routine.  He most-often communicates his good presence in patterns (not in the exception to patterns).  2. Our character is developed in the routine.  It's our choices in the mundane that shape us.  If we will pay attention, be alert, live in the moment, and recognize that God is everywhere, the mundane fills with meaning.  There are no ordinary days.

relentless pursuit

I'm in awe of the resurrected Christ.  Feeling so full today...

A recap of Sunday's message on Luke 24:13-end. 

...  ...  ...


Have you allowed yourself to hope, only to have those hopes dashed?  Are you grieving unmet expectations?  Are you disappointed? With God?  With the Church?  With others?


In their severe disappointment, the Emmaus travelers leave.  They just walk away.  Like we do.  When God doesn't perform we look to other lovers.  We're "prone to wander, prone to leave..." 


And this is what's so tragic about leaving: When we leave we miss what God is doing and we miss what he wants to do next.  We walk away from redemption and try to create our own destiny.  We say "God hasn't worked for me, I'll take it from here." 


But here's the good news: God's pursuit of leavers is relentless.   It's as if God says to us: 
You were walking away from me, you couldn’t see me with you, you didn't see what I was doing, you were ready to write your own future. But I pursued you, revealed myself to you, and I still have plans for your life. 

            You are my witness. 

                        You will tell this story of my loving, relentless pursuit. 

                                    You will live this story of resurrection. 

applause

I confess: I love applause.  I find comfort in the approval of others.

Applause can be a good thing if that which is being approved or cheered is true. 

But applause can be also be deceitful, it can woo us into doing not what is right or true, but only what the crowd will cheer for, only what others will find acceptable – whether true or not.

There's a lot of cheering going on in the final days of Jesus' life on earth.  Some are cheering for the truth.  Some are cheering for a lie.  Thing is, you can't tell by the cheering alone.  The cheering sounds the same either way.

But Jesus isn't swayed by the cheering.  Or the jeering.  It's like he doesn't hear it. 

Instead his ear is tuned to just one voice.  Jesus knows whose he is.  Therefore Jesus knows who he is.  And others' approval (or lack thereof) fades...

It's possible to meet a lot of expectations but totally miss the truth.  

intimacy

Prevailing view on sex (in 1^st C. Corinth and 21^st C. U.S.A.):

Body: Doesn’t matter. Do with it what you want: if you’re hungry, eat; if you want sex, have sex.  We’re all going to die soon anyway.

            

Intimacy: It’s about gratifying my physical and emotional needs.  Maintaining my independence in the process is important (if I don’t want to get hurt).  It’s casual.

             

The Apostle Paul’s view on sex:

            

Body: It matters!  It was created for God.  It will be resurrected by God.  It is the temple of God. 

            

Intimacy: It unifies.  Two become one.  It’s designed to be a full surrender of my independence to another.  It’s more powerful than we realize.

What fuels Paul’s view of sex is his understanding that this life is not all there in to life (I Cor. 7:2-31).  Therefore human relationships are, at least in part, designed to teach us about the ultimate relationship: that between God and humanity. Marriage is ultimately designed to teach us about God.  And so is singleness.  

Relationships are not neutral.  They are either helping us know God or hindering our knowledge of God. 

If you remove God/eternal life from the picture, intimacy is all about gratification and my body becomes a tool.  And all that really matters is physical appearance, sex, and the romantic pursuit.  Because that’s as close as I can get to heaven. 

(But my soul knows better and longs for more, whether my mind is willing to acknowledge God or not.)

lent: noise

God has a soft voice.  You have to be quiet if you want to hear him speak.  And that's the problem: we're so rarely quiet.  We're almost never still.  And our world is even noisier and busier than we are.  

In our culture, communication is a competition.  If you want a share of people's limited attention, you must talk more loudly, be more dramatic, flash more shiny things, promise more benefits, make more noise more often...  That's the game we play.  

But here's the thing: God's not playing.   

In a world of hurricane winds, rock-splitting earthquakes, and raging infernos, God speaks in the thin whisper, in the resonate silence.  (See 1 Kings 19).

My world and my mind are noisy places.  Are yours?

Is all this noise keeping you from hearing?

[ hear the entire teaching at www.emmausteachings.org ]

lent: the comfort tension

[Un]comfort[able].  adj.

The word means : causing discomfort.  Like: that’s the most uncomfortable couch.

But recently I’ve been thinking about how the word may also be a description of me, of us, of our culture…that many of us are – to some degree – uncomfortable.  Like: I am un able to be comforted. 

And of course the great irony here is that most of us live in such comfort.

                         

I was away, praying, thinking, reflecting on my deep need to be comforted by God. 

                        (I am not alone in this need –

                                    many of us are carrying sorrow,

                                    some of us physical pain,

                                    a sense of dread about the future, etc.) 

Many of us are aware of our need for God’s comfort. 

So as I was praying about this: my need for comfort from God, I was simultaneously aware of the fact that I have nearly every earthly comfort available to me at any time:

                        if I’m hungry there’s usually something to eat,

                        if I’m cold, there’s wood for the fire or a sweatshirt,

                        if I’m lonely, I have people to talk to,

                        if I’m feeling useless, I have ways to feel useful…

And I became aware of this tension- like a tight wire between two poles:

            I need God’s comfort, and I’m so easily comforted. 

            I’m so easily comforted, but I still need God’s comfort. 

And then this thought landed in my mind like a bird on the wire:

            Are your comforts keeping you from being comforted?

Are the very things which promise to ease your pain – and, to some degree, do – keeping you from receiving truer, deeper, comfort from God’s Spirit, whom Jesus calls “The Comforter”?

I'm fascinated by these words from the prophet Zechariah (chapter 10): 

1 Ask the LORD for rain in the springtime;

it is the LORD who sends the thunder-storms.

He gives showers of rain to all people,

and plants of the field to everyone.

2 The idols speak deceit, 
      

diviners see visions that lie; 
      

they tell dreams that are false, 
      

they give comfort in vain. 
      

Therefore the people wander like sheep

oppressed for lack of a shepherd.

lent: critical for the comfortable

Some push back on the idea of observing Lent because “the early church didn’t observe Lent.”  Which is true.  The season of Lent wasn’t introduced to the typical Christian experience until almost 400 years after Christ. 

But another thing that wasn’t introduced to the typical Christian experience until almost 400 years after Christ was the phenomenal season of physical, economic, and political comfort which began to characterize the Christian community.

For the first 300 years, the Christian community was under nearly constant persecution.  Political abuse and violence were constant realities.  Killing Christians became a sport.  

And yet, somewhat ironically to our way of thinking, instead of crushing the church this severe discomfort seemed to make the church grow.

  

Finally an emperor of Rome named Constantine claimed to convert to Christianity. Shortly thereafter the Roman state, rather than crushing house church communities, began building beautiful church buildings. And the bishops (overseers) of the church, instead of being killed as examples of Rome’s power, were given political power within the Roman government.

For a few generations, the Christian faith enjoyed unprecedented comfort.

Isn't it interesting that it was at this time that the church fathers formalized the church calendar which included a season called Lent?   

I wonder if, in their wisdom, the church fathers recognized that in the relative state of comfort the church was enjoying they were beginning to lose something of the power of the resurrection. 

I wonder if in their comfort, the church’s need for God to comfort them became less intense. In other words: the message that Jesus saves is only good news to those who are aware that they need a savior. The message that God is a comforter in times of trouble makes little difference for those who aren’t in trouble. 

If you’re comfortable you don’t need a Comforter.

............                                  

I've seen this play out a dozen times: a person lives a very comfortable life – and it may even include God on a comfortable level. Except that God is never really looked to for comfort – He isn’t needed there; other things are doing the comforting. 

Then life happens and some of the key “other comforts” – some are good things – get washed away. And the person, who has known God at some level for years, has no idea how to go to God for comfort because they’ve never done that before. 

............

So I think it’s fascinating that near the end of the 4th century, the church essentially said, “Things have changed for us. We’re much more comfortable than we’ve ever been.  We should take a season of several weeks to remind ourselves that we are in need of grace.  We need to remember that we need a savior and that without the resurrection we are completely lost.  Our only hope is not the government which now says they’re on our side but Jesus himself.  We have some human comforts but we still need spiritual comfort.  We must recognize that our bodies are more comfortable which historically has always led to the neglect of the soul.”

compassion thinks

If there's a difference between the occasional act of charity and the lifestyle of compassion, how does the compassionate person think?

1. Compassion thinks long-term vs. quick fix.  Quick fixes usually don't.  Band-aid solutions are typically engaged in an effort to justify oneself; they don't spring from a deep value for all people. 
2. Compassion thinks today vs. someday.  Those who postpone serving others usually end up doing so indefinitely.  There's never quite enough.
3. Compassion thinks people vs. price.  Multiple factors affect every purchase decision.  Compassion views the purchase's impact on people as the real cost.
4. Compassion thinks deeply.  It does the research. It finds the creative solution.

Think deeply about long-term solutions that begin today and value people.  Got it?  (Now stop thinking and act).  

lent:water #1 uncomfortable

One week into Lent ’10 and I’m feeling it.  As I have a couple times in the past, I’m observing Lent by fasting all liquids except water.  While this specific fast has consistently served as an effective, constant reminder of my primary need for Jesus, I don’t remember it being this uncomfortable.

I’ve realized, this past week, how often I drink and how comforting drinking is for me.  I typically drink 2 – 4 cups of tea and 2 – 3 glasses of juice every day.  And I enjoy an occasional non-fat, decaf mocha.

I’m feeling uncomfortable, which is an uncommon feeling for me.

compassion values

What’s the difference between an occasional act of charity and a lifestyle of compassion?

I think it comes down to one core conviction which has it's roots in the first five words of the Bible: In the beginning God created…  And a few sentences later (v. 27): God created people in His image.  

Thousands of years later Jesus puts this core conviction into practice by affirming that all of scripture boils down to loving God and people.  He then stresses that "people" actually means all people by telling a confrontational story about a man who is beaten and left to die but rescued by an unlikely hero.  A compassionate man.  A man who values all people as created in God’s image.  

There's the guy who chips-in for the occasional charity golf game.  And then there's the guy whose whole life is characterized by compassion.  

One guy is looking for justification.  The other values all people as created in the image of God.  

family

Took some family shots today.  Time to send out our Christmas  New Year  Valentine's Day Letter.

built to sing

Singing together. 

A bit weird, isn’t it?  We almost never do it anymore: kids’ birthday parties, at a good concert, karaoke maybe.  In normal life it just doesn’t happen.

Except at church.  It happens every week at church. 

Why?  Why do we sing?

1.   We sing for God.  Scripture instructs us to sing (see Psalms),  Jesus says if we don’t inanimate objects will (see triumphal entry), and singing is perpetually happening around Christ’s throne (see Rev. 5).  God will be worshipped.  We sing for him.

2.   We sing for others.  Singing as part of a group is incredibly unifying.  When you’re lonely, when you’re weak, when you’re confused – hearing the truth sung by others around you says, “You’re not alone” like nothing else.  Paul and Silas in jail… Dr. Martin Luther King and others marching arm-in-arm… their courage sustained through singing.

3.   We sing for ourselves.  Beliefs become fortified through profession.  Truths access the soul as they’re declared.  What we say affects us. 

In worship we respond to Truth, we declare Truth, and we are transformed by Truth.   We are built to sing.

flying squirrel

There are always more games to be discovered when there's a baby in the house!  This is a new one we're laughing about.  We're calling it "flying squirrel."

 

we have no choir here

One-third of our community’s weekly worship time is committed to preaching.  That’s a lot.  And if we understand its purpose, it can make a significant impact.

Four thoughts about preaching at Emmaus:

1.   1. It’s not the most important thing.  (It’s just one of many tools to be used in working toward the most important thing: the maturity of the church.  Eph. 4:11-13)

2.    2. But it’s really important.  (Because it’s God’s Word for us.)

3.    3. It’s designed to disturb.  (It should provoke, stir things up, make you think, leave you with more questions than answers.  See the parables of Jesus.)

4.    4. And it’s designed to direct.  (It’s supposed to point you in the right direction.  It’s not supposed to answer all your questions. But it is supposed to clarify things.  Again, see Jesus’ parables.)

Bottom line: The answer to the question, “How was the sermon?” should have more to do with what the hearer does with the sermon than whether or not he “likes” it.

A friend once characterized my job as “preaching to the choir,” meaning, I guess, that we’re of no consequence. 

Truth is, we’re way more provocative then a choir.  We’re the Church.  And we’re making a difference.