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.  

love the word

What does it take for something to truly change your life?  What takes something from being a New Year’s resolution to a personal revolution?

Lots of things claim to “change your life.”  Few things do. 

There’s a reason the things that change our lives do.  And there’s a reason the things that don’t, don’t. 

It’s love.

The things we love change us. 

The Church spends a lot of time talking about change – a change in thinking and a change in living – a change to a way of being found in the pages of the Bible which we believe is God’s Word. 

At least we say we believe it. 

We don’t often actually believe it.  Truth is, even though we own God’s very words, we rarely read them.  We don’t really know them.  We don’t love them.

David’s 119^th Psalm is a shockingly confrontational testimony of devotion to God’s Word.  Read it with caution.  David’s passion will astound you.

Many of us truly want to be changed by God’s Word.  We want His peace to fill us.  We want His wisdom and strength to characterize our lives.  We want his love to inform us, to affect us.  We want the things that God says to make a practical difference.  

So may we truly love His Word.  May it change our lives. 

i hope you feel full

How do you feel…now that Christmas is over?  You should think about that.

Four thoughts:

There’s a thief.  He comes only to take and never to give.  He’s sneaky.  Most of the time we don’t even realize he's robbing from us.

There’s a good shepherd.  He comes to give full life.  He even gives of himself so that we can fully live.

There’s a beaver.  I often run past a tree he’s killing.  Never seen the beaver.  But I know he’s there.  His destruction never sleeps.  Even when I’m sleeping, he’s busy… destroying.  Like those who, in their greed, teach things that are not true.

There’s a paradox: Some who have everything are actually very empty.  Others who have almost nothing are very full. 

How do you feel?  If you’ve bought-in to the deceptive, destructive cultural message which is only amplified at Christmas, you’re probably surrounded by lots of things.  But I wonder if there’s a haunting sense of emptiness to it all.  If, instead, you’re choosing a better story: one about loving, serving, and giving, then you probably have less stuff, but I bet you feel full.

(John 1:1-4, 3:16, 10:10, 17:13, and 2 Peter 3)

matthias

Holy Spirit, Holy Suffering, part 2

We'd rather not accept it. Something deep inside us resists it. God and pain, together. The Holy Spirit and suffering, at the same time. This is not the message that sells books. It's far too difficult. Far too uncomfortable. It's sobering.

We typically prefer to stay buzzed on cheap, sentimental, spiritual niceties.

But here's the kicker: pain always comes. Suffering happens to everyone.

And so we have a choice: We can accept the radical biblical idea that God meets us in our pain (and experience union with Him, even in our darkest days), or we can avoid pain at all costs (and miss the Power that is perfected in weakness).

Accept it and experience revolution-quality solidarity with others. Reject it and slide quietly into lonely isolation.

With the strength of a whole community, she says she'd go through cancer a third time. Why? "Because God was so near to me in that hospital room."

Holy Spirit, Holy Suffering, part 1

Like the green spot we missed when painting our bedroom baby blue... Like the 3 or 4 rock chips in my windshield... Like the sound of the train rolling though town... There are some things that are always there, so you hardly notice them.

But if you approach the familiar at face value and take it all in with new eyes, suddenly, it’s conspicuous.

Two themes in Acts that have existed quietly in the background of nearly every story but jump off the page if you’re honest: The Holy Spirit and suffering.

God's Spirit is everywhere - interacting with people as the main character of the story.

And everywhere - Christians are suffering.

At the same time.

Holy Spirit and suffering.

I have to re-read whole pages because I'm surprised at how often the two go together. Makes me wonder: are they connected?

This I know: we don't suffer much as a direct result of our faith today. But neither are we especially spiritually empowered.

And I know this: The Holy Spirit draws near in times of suffering. So near, sometimes, that suffering can feel…holy.

Because God is there.

Our Story Changes :: Acts 21

Paul knew it: there was trouble ahead. Everywhere he went he heard God Himself warning him. Trouble’s comin’.

Others sensed it too. Not just a gut feeling; God Himself told them. It’s going to get rough for Paul.

And then this prophet named Agabus walks up to Paul and shows him how he’ll be arrested. Just in case Paul needs details.

At this everyone - even Paul’s companions – lose it. “Don’t go!” they say, their eyes big and earnest.

Paul’s response silences them: “Why are you breaking my heart? I’m ready to be bound or to die...”

How do you get to this place? How do you come face-to-face with the fact that you’re going to get hurt but keep moving forward?

You embrace a Bigger Story as your own. You take your personal story with your pain and your death and you surrender it to God’s Story. You let your story become part of that Story.

Because God’s story is about resurrection. And when resurrection meets our life, our story changes.

Resurrection Spirituality :: Acts 18

3 short stories about relationships with Jesus:

1 educated man. He’s studied for years about God and the coming Messiah. He’s passionate, articulate, and good at what he does. As far as that goes. But when an uneducated women who knows more than he hears him, she gracefully explains things more completely.

12 committed disciples. They’ve been solid, go-to guys for years. They work hard. As hard as they can. But then they meet Paul, who introduces them to the Source of strength. And they’re filled.

7 sons of a priest. They’re intrigued by the name “Jesus” which seems to work well for others. They decide to try it. Interested in a casual association, they name-drop and watch what happens. They’re nearly killed. Now intrigue sees more clearly and fears.

When our spirituality is resurrected there is always more: more information to learn, more power to experience, more holiness to revere. Always. More.

Resurrection Religion :: Acts 18

After years of trying to convince his own people that Jesus is the One they’ve been waiting for, and after being repeatedly yelled-at, beat-up, rioted-against, and run out of town, Paul finally snaps.v6

He leaves the synagogue.

And moves next door.v7

And those more captivated by resurrection than religion follow. Even those who have a lot to lose.v8 Because, ultimately, religion cannot bring new life. But resurrection can.

Religion is good when it supports life, when it reminds us of what’s true, when it keeps us focused, when it serves the new life God wants to continually bring.

Religion is bad when it becomes fixed, rigid, thick-walled, defensive, cold-hearted, when it forgets the passion that birthed it in the first place, when it becomes the master of truth instead of its servant.

When religion no longer has room for resurrection, we must lay it down. If there’s no room for life in our religious habits or traditions, we must find a place where the windows are not bolted shut and the light of life shines in.

Religion must always serve Resurrection.

Resurrection Culture :: Acts 17

While chilling in Athens, waiting for his crew, Paul sees some things that disturb him deeply. Some say he was “irked.” These Athens-folk were not a little bit off. This was one messed up culture.

If Paul were a separatist, he may have thrown up his hands and snipped, “Ah, to hell with them.” But Paul was no separatist.

If Paul’s hope was rooted in military might or political power, he might have snapped some inflammatory photos with his phone and thought up some pithy slogans that would fit will on picket signs and make for good rally chants. But Paul’s hope was in something far greater.

Paul was a resurrection preacher. He knew that bad things, sick things, mean things, heck, even dead things could be filled with new life. Things that were really messed up could be restored and made whole again - like they were created by God to be.

So, Paul took all the broken things that irked him so and made him sad and mad and wonder, “What the heck is wrong with these people?” and used these very things to tell them about Jesus.

Not in an “I’ll show you how stupid you are” way. But in a way that was both totally truthful and also, somehow, affirming.

Instead of saying “you’re so bad.” He said, “You know, you’re on to something here…”

And even in this really messed up culture, “a few” believed and decided to follow Paul and, of course, Jesus.

Paul engaged culture with resurrection. We might call this Resurrection Culture.

[ see/hear the whole teaching at www.emmausteachings.org ]

theological musings...

take a back seat to experiencing God's goodness...

more matthias pics

Matthias and Grandma

Matthias in a traditional Nicaraguan baby thing which he peed on (but not before mom snapped this picture)

Matthias and Bita

Matthias' beautiful big sister and aging dad

intrigued

We've had a great week together as a family at home. This time to get to know Matthias, care for Carmen, and love the "big" kids has been so valuable.

pics:

..mid-day nap (making up for the 3 a.m. - 5 a.m. fussies).

..Oates men break it down.

..holding his head up at 3 days, baby.

..post-nursing contentment (life is good)

be a better pastor: observe a midwife

I'm enjoying a week at home with my family following the birth of our son, Matthias. Between diaper changes and naps I've felt a need to write about the pastoring clinic I just experienced in my own home...

We decided early in the pregnancy to have a home birth. In the months leading up to the birth, and especially during the birth itself, I became fascinated by our midwives. Between the two of them, they have "attended" over 1000 births. These are labor and birth experts - though they would never use that word. It didn't take long for me to realize that, as a Christian pastor, I could learn a whole lot from these women. So I hit the pause on the never-ending noise from "church experts" that crosses my desk and started taking notes from those who actually usher-in new life.

1. Listen.

When we met our midwives they were remarkably quiet. As a talker, I started peppering them with questions, which they answered calmly. Mostly, they listened. They listened well. They listened long. They listened with their eyes. Sadly, we have rarely experienced this posture from medical professionals. They major on giving advice, not listening. Tragically, so do most pastors.

2. Go to their home.

Most of the care provided by our midwives happened in our home. They came to where our life happens. They became familiar with our kitchen, with our bathroom, with our space. Consequently, our time with them never felt like an "appointment." It felt like real life.

3. Take the low position.

While talking with my wife, they would kneel by our bed. During labor, they sat on the floor. We have plenty of chairs in our home, which I offered repeatedly. These women consistently took the low place. Their humility was convicting.

4. Submit to training and train others.

At nearly all of our meetings, and at the birth, there was a student midwife. She listened. She served. She cleaned. She set things up. She carried heavy loads. Recently I received a call from a major Christian university where our church attempted to place an ad for a position. They wouldn't even post it, I was told, pejoratively, by the head of the Christian Ministries department, because our position was part-time and the pay was too low. Their students, he chirped, had received an expensive education in order to take "major positions" at "top churches." God have mercy. Christian ministry doesn't look a thing like Jesus anymore. (But midwifery does.)

5. Receive what you're given.

New birth - whether physical or spiritual - happens when it will. I woke both of our midwives with pre-dawn phone calls. They arrived with only what they needed for the birth. No extra clothes. No food. With ease and quiet gratitude they ate what we fed them. Following the birth, one stayed to assure us and napped in the guest room. I kept thinking of Jesus' words to his disciples, "Take nothing for the journey - no staff, no bag, no bread, no money, no extra tunic..." There's a beautiful freedom in this kind of simple dependance.

6. Ask questions.

During the intensity of the actual birth, when it would be easiest to assume control, they mostly asked questions. They observed, they guided, they took careful notes. But their primary interaction with my wife came through a few, specific, carefully-timed questions.

7. Trust the process.

Against the backdrop of a culture which "manages" labor with monitors, drugs, and strict time tables, the midwives' calm trust of the mother's instincts and the birth process itself stood out as remarkably faithful. Not naive, just reverent. I was struck by the fact that they believed this process was normal, that it was meant to happen, and that it would happen. Over-engineering the process of birth (whether with Pitocin or with stiff "spiritual" formulae) reveals a foolishly anemic view of the Power driving the process.

8. Be amazed.

They've caught over 1000 babies. They do this all the time. And yet they're still amazed at the miracle of new life. They're still hushed by the wonder of the first breath. They still talk about the baby with a sense of awe. They participate in the same story week after week. But when they're in this moment, they're not working. They're amazed.

growing as worshippers of God

Our community is discussing the value of transformation this week. We're considering ways to "grow as worshippers of God."

One of the ways I am most helped to grow is through relationships (with friends or home groups) which provide accountability.

Here are a couple great sets of questions which can be used in accountability relationships.

Chuck Swindoll's Pastoral Accountability Questions:

In his book, The Body, Chuck Colson lists the questions used by Chuck Swindoll.

1. Have you been with a woman anywhere this past week that might be seen as compromising?

2. Have any of your financial dealings lacked integrity?

3. Have you exposed yourself to any sexually explicit material?

4. Have you spent adequate time in Bible study and prayer?

5. Have you given priority time to your family?

6. Have you fulfilled the mandates of your calling?

7. Have you just lied to me?


from Neil Cole:

1. What is the condition of your soul?

2. What sin do you need to confess?

3. What have you held back from God that you need to surrender?

4. Is there anything that has dampened your zeal for Christ?

5. Who have you talked with about Christ this week?

full family worship @ emmaus

Team-taught with Kathryn today. She read and narrated from Acts 16 and I tried to draw pictures to illustrate. It was great having all the kids in with us for a back-to-school, full-family Sunday. Here's an excerpt from today's teaching. More at www.emmausteachings.org.

When we have a real relationship with Jesus (when resurrection meets our life) it changes (redefines) everything. It turns everything upside down and backwards.

Prison is no longer a prison…

in that it is the end of the line, the defeat of hope, the place where nothing is free/alive.

Foreclosure is no longer foreclosure…

in that it is the end of the line, the defeat of dreams, a “lost” situation, where no one is free/alive.

Losing your job is not just losing your job...

When resurrection meets life, every experience holds an opportunity for restoration.

Here's the question: What difference does Jesus make?

One of the most remarkable realities of this story is that Paul and Silas are experiencing the power of Jesus right where they are.

Resurrection is a here and now reality for them.

We usually don’t experience – or even expect to experience – the power of Jesus here and now.

We usually expect Jesus to make a difference at another time and in another place.

Which, tragically, is to render the Gospel of Jesus impotent for today. It’s to refuse to embrac

e the reality of resurrection meeting real life right here and right now.

What difference does Jesus make….right where I am? In the midst of this mess?

If resurrection is a here and now reality (which it is) then every experience holds an oppo

rtunity for new life. For life over death.

When resurrection meets life…It’s upside down and backwards.

When you’re powerless, that’s when you’re truly strong.

When you’re hurting, that’s when you’re able to bring healing to others.

When you’re in prison, you can sing.

the problem with "having" a relationship

The following are excerpts from a teaching on Acts 16:6-10 about being in a real relationship with God. The full teaching will be at www.emmausteachings.org by Monday.

We talk a lot (in evangelical culture) about “having a personal relationship” with Jesus, which speaks to a beautiful reality.

But sometimes, I sense that we’re talking about "having a relationship with Jesus" like it’s something to possess or like it’s a qualifying event (for some future payoff).

We say, “it’s not about being good, it’s about having a relationship.”

We say, “It’s not about religion, it’s about having a relationship.”

And in a very subtle way, I wonder if “having a relationship” almost becomes like “having a ticket” to get in.

What’s important is not that you have a ticket.

What’s important is that you enter into real relationship with the living God.

God’s not going to ask you, “Do you have a ticket?” He’s going to ask you, “Do you love me? Is there anything real between us?”

Jesus warned about a time in the future when he will say to some, “Depart from me. I never knew you.”

It’s so critical that we recognize the remarkable wonder that we have been invited into a real relationship, not just a one time event.

This is why possession language – saying “I have a relationship” is potentially dangerous. It could lead to seeing this relationship as just a ticket to somewhere.

Real relationships are ongoing. We “enter into” relationship. And it’s the relationship itself that matters, not just the moment the relationship begins.

I think that’s why Jesus says one time “you must be born again.” But he says dozens of times, “Follow me.”

Because what Jesus invites us into is a relationship that’s progressive and ongoing… Not like a relationship with the girl at the ticket counter at the movie theater, but more like a marriage…