Fatigue

I’m tired. This past week I’ve just weezed my way through running every morning. I’m supposedly in great shape. I was doing speed work 8 days ago--no problem. I was running 10 miles in heat. No problem. Now getting through 6 miles is tough. My legs feel weak. And I’m feeling fatigued early in the day. Jan told me, “So take a nap if you're fatigued,” which I did…at 8:00 am! I’m tired.

I’ve been studying Psalm 62 which is on rest. At first this little obtuse hymn sung by Jewish people in their worship service meant very little to me. I only studied it after a younger staff member suggested we work on it together, and then write a sermon. It was a training opportunity, so I sort of went along with it all and was incredibly surprised. In the Psalm, the writer David, is in the middle of something dreadfully wrong. He’s not come through it, but he’s in the middle of it. And he begins by saying, “My soul finds rest in God alone…” NIV. Other translations use the phrase “waits in silence” and there in is the intrigue. The Hebrew word means “wait” as in rest so it's actually describing a spectrum. There are times when “rest” means you’ve done everything possible to deal with an issue so you stop, wait, and do so in silence. And in doing so you leave the results up to God alone. You’re in a place of rest. At other times, you are working at a frenetic pace but still doing so from a place of absolute rest. Again, the results you leave to God alone. But you are working from a place of rest, and not just resting from your work. The writer of the Psalm actually moves closer to a place of rest while writing the Psalm. He’s experiencing this “rest” at a deeper and deeper level while penning those words of hope. “I find my rest in God alone….”

This whole idea of rest has come home to roost with me this week. After an intense weekend at a church in another part of the country, I find myself deeply fatigued. Is it the heat? Is it the possibility that I’ll be that church’s next pastor and it's a tough assignment and I’m fearful? Is it just ordinary emotional fatique from a year of transition (everything is changing: where we live, Jan’s retiring, our ministry is moving away from the parent organization, our finances are not the same, etc.)? Is it physical and I need to see a doctor to counteract some medical issue? Is it chronic fatigue syndrome, which a friend currently has, and now its my turn to experience that lovely condition? I don’t know.

But this I do know…..

The God who redeems my soul through the work (hard work at that) of Christ on the cross also invites me to a place of rest. The God who reigns over my life because he’s the real king, also invites me to a state of repose as I submit to his will for my life…even if this is the start of the end of my life! That God says through the writer of Psalm 62, “Find your rest in me alone. I am your hope and your salvation.”

In that, I gain a great deal of strength. Because in spite of the incivility of our national dialogue, and in spite of the hand wringing over the way our modern cultures have destroyed planet earth, and despite of the reality that sin devastates people, and families, and marriages (I just had lunch with a friend whose marriage is falling apart and he’s contributed and admits it), and in spite of the difficulty of pastoring churches in transition or crisis, that God promises a salvation--and a place of rest--that’s real and not humanly contrived. Down throughout the ages, says philosopher Luc Ferry, salvation has been the goal of every culture. Something will save us. This is our hope, even for those who don’t believe in God. Something will save us! But in Christianity, that savior doesn’t just promise it, he becomes it. He is our “hope and our salvation.” Jesus is our rest. Christianity isn’t a set of moral principles to believe, but a person to trust. I’m banking on it. And in that, I’ll rest.

Time for a nap.

Romance

I’ve been pondering romance since last Valentines day. This year, Valentines day and Lent fell on the exact same date. It made me think. What’s godly, sacrificial romance actually look like?

Romance in our culture is tied into the feelings one has, usually at a young age, of love and attraction towards another person. It’s the feelings that are emphasized. And with it, those crazy things that occur out of romantic love. People will go to great lengths to prove their romantic love towards another. It reminds me of the Disney movies where guy meets girl, rescues girl, and they fall deeply in love and then the movie ends. What happens after the “romance” wears off is what concerns me. It’s obvious that the most beautiful and intelligent people in the world seem to have a hard time making romance work over the long haul. I read another news article today about a Hollywood celebrity who’d become violent towards her younger significant other; a person she was supposedly in love with. So here’s what I’d like to suggest.

Romance isn’t a feeling. And it’s not simply actions tied to the emotional (and dare I say sexual) response we have towards another person. Romance, true romance, is cultivated. It’s pursued not for its sake but for the others sake. Romance is planned. It’s paying attention to little things over the long haul. Anyone can open a car door for a beautiful woman. But to do it for that same woman 40-50 years later, that's romance! Romance is conniving in a godly way. It’s musing on how you can love other other more perfectly. And to be frank, much of the romance we have  today isn’t other oriented, its “me” oriented. It’s objectifying the other; loving the other because of how “they make me feel” or “because she’s so pretty.” In that case what we love isn’t the other, but ourselves and how the other makes us feel. It feels good to feel good. Romance feels good.

Romance can be practiced. I read somewhere about a woman who, after being married for a number of years, got super sick. While she was puking her guts out her husband held her hair back so that she could vomit unintruded. She said it was one of the most romantic things she’d ever experienced. So romance isn’t about me, its about the other. Romance isn’t a feeling, but an act that when occurring often enough, can create a feeling. Romance is tender not tough. But then again, real romance, true romance is a marathon not a sprint. Marathons are hard, especially the last six miles. But the finish line? Romantic!! The aha of the end. So what to do:

Ponder--What would it look like if you were to be truly romantic towards your significant other?

Practice--Don’t just be romantic towards the other but be gracious to all. Practice opening the car door for all women, not just the woman you love. Treat people at the check out counter as human beings created in the image of God.

Persevere--Don’t quit when the feelings are gone. Real romance when nurtured, can sneak up on you. Romance isn’t a to-do list. It’s nurtured when we treat the other, over the long haul, as a special person. 

I remember a few years ago, coming back from a game of golf and driving up to my house. I’ve practiced being romantic for a while. Jan was standing out in the front dressed in jeans and fall clothes and covering our grand kids with leaves. I immediately felt a romantic desire for her that I’d not felt in a while. Why? Romance was bearing fruit. Romance was giving me as a by-product, what our secular society mistakingly assumes is the real thing, namely that good feeling. I’ll take the by-product any day!! Ah, amore!

What's Inside Leaks!

My oldest daughter, her husband, and my wife were conversing around the lunch table on Saturday. My daughter had been invited by the leader of an exercise class to demonstrate an exercise that she’d excelled in. Then for some reason my daughter made this comment, “Well, I always knew keeping my weight down was important.” It came out of no where. It seemed disconnected to the conversation and it caught me off guard.

I’m short and slender. I run marathons. I was in the lighter weight classes on the wrestling team. I’ve never had a problem with my weight. Our daughters pretty much fall into the same category. The daughter in question weighs 100 lbs--maybe. Staying slim has never been a problem for her. Even after pregnancy. It’s just not an issue. But for her to tell me that she knew that this was important to me, even as a kid, took me back. “When did I ever say that?” I protested. “Never,” she said. “I just knew it was important to you.”

Somehow I leaked a value that I never intended to. It’s made me think. Several things became clear:

(1) What’s going on inside me is going to leak out, even if I don’t intend it to. So I have to ask, “What’s going on inside me? What am I communicating about myself and others acceptability, based on my own thoughtless comments?” I sometimes make fun of myself in front of others due to my small stature and slender frame. It really doesn’t bother me. I’m not embarrassed by it. It’s fun, and frankly, sometimes funny. But I now wonder if I’ve made heavier people uncomfortable by speaking in such a flippant fashion about a problem many of them have; namely keeping their weight under control.

(2) This value, or reality, effected my daughter. It shaped her life. Without even meaning to, I somehow contributed to the insane body image issue of our western culture; namely that if you’re not thin and beautiful, you’re not that significant. And if you are, well then you’ve got significant currency in this culture. She’s thin and she’s beautiful. She’s got currency. But that’s not the point! What if she wasn’t?

All of this has grabbed my attention while reading Matthew 23 and Jeremiah 9 in the bible. In Matthew 23 the religious leaders had all sorts of inner spiritual issues. They looked great on the outside, but on the inside their lives were on a tragic trajectory; one that came to fruition in the crucifixion of their Messiah. In Jeremiah 9, the nation of Israel had made all kinds of gods out of all kinds of things. Perhaps I’ve made a god out of being physically fit, being in shape, or being slender in a world that values thinness and beauty.

In all of this, I’ve learned that the values of our hearts leak out in ways we are unaware of. And our families, for better or worse, have formed and shaped those values in us. If you are from a family or have a family of your own there will be a legacy! What do our comments, our actions, our thoughts and motives say about what we value? What will they leave as a legacy? If we are unaware of our own family of origin issues, it only means we’re doomed to repeat the same mistakes. Being spiritually healthy means we allow God to make us aware of, and then actually deal with, our family of origins.

I think for me, this is instructive in that I want to be less critical of others imperfections and differences of opinion and more aware of my own. The harsh and often shrill tone of our current political, and cultural, dialogue suggests very few of our countries leaders actually have this kind of self-awareness. We leak. We all leak something! What is it you leak? What does it mean? And when you discover it, will you take the time to ask the hard question, “Why am I thinking, feeling, or acting that way?” Stop. Slow down. Look for the leaks. And when you find them, begin the long process of repair that comes by anchoring those life changes in the sacrificial life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It’s worth it.

“What’s that mean?” or The Gift of Self-Awareness

The prophet Isaiah notes Israel’s penchant to assume that they have their lives under control. In Isaiah 9:13 we read, “The people did not turn to him who struck them, nor inquire of the Lord of hosts.” That means that there were signs, hints that something was awry. Something was amiss. They weren’t firing on all cylinders spiritually, morally, relationally, and all they did in response was plan to do more of the same (cf. v. 10). “We’ll just try harder,” they thought. But that wasn’t the point! The point is that they were so unaware, so unmindful, so oblivious to things that they missed the signs that something was wrong. And as a result, they experienced the destructive consequences of their lack of understanding. They were profoundly unaware. So are we!

The gift of self-awareness is granted when we take the time and energy to ask, “Why did I do that? Why did I say that? Why do I act the way I act, think the way I think, feel the way I feel?” Then sit there in that. Listen. Be still. Be silent. Wait. Most people crowd out the time it takes to do the hard inner work that leads to self-awareness. We fill the silent spaces in our lives with noise—TV, cell phones, internet, activity, exercise, relationships, busyness, etc. We can’t hear through all the noise. So we aren’t self-aware.

God wants to cut through the static and get our attention. For the nation of Israel, it was a no brainer. They were in covenant relationship with him and he’d told them exactly what would happen if they broke the covenant so it should have been no surprise. Read Deuteronomy 28-29 for a list of “This is what’s going to happen if you do this or don’t do that.” It surprised them anyway! That’s how unaware they were.

So what are some signs that self-awareness is an issue for us? Here are a couple thoughts: constant stress that seems to never end, depression, the inability to get along, a calloused heart to obvious sin, an unwillingness to reconcile with others, the inability to feel, dirty fighting (threats, yelling, giving others the silent treatment, etc.), and things like that. Self-awareness is terrifying. Because once you are aware of something, you are forced to deal with it. In my case, I discovered to my embarrassment, that anxiety had been a controlling issue in my life for years. I was totally unaware of it. It alienated people, particularly my kids. It produced an unhealthy reactivity in my work. And it was exhausting. After years of living with it, I finally faced the fact that I was an anxious person. Knowing that hasn’t solved it. But being aware of it has given me recourse when it rears its ugly head. Awareness is half the battle. In fact, self-awareness is one of the keys to spiritual and emotional health. Sixteenth century reformer John Calvin once wrote, “You’ll never know God unless you know yourself.” That’s on the firsts few pages of his Institutes on the Christian religion, one of the most famous books in Church history.

My hope is that we’ll all take advantage of the gift of self-awareness. And because of the gospel we can do so with joy. There is nothing God doesn’t know about you! Because of Christ work on the cross, if you’ve turned from sin and put your faith in him, there is nothing you can do to make him love you any more, and nothing you’ve done will cause him to love you any less. You can become self-aware, then deal with you stuff, in total confidence that it won’t do anything but make your relationship with him, yourself, and others better. So with that in mind, take the self-awareness challenge.

I Just Bought My First Pair of Skinny Jeans

I just bought my first pair of skinny jeans. It’s true. I’m sort of, well—there is no easy way to say this—kind of skinny. I’m well muscled, as my aunt described me way back (I hang on to that statement hoping its actually true), but well muscled in a skinny sort of way. So the jeans fit and look good. I plan to wear them preaching some time. I share this bit of family reality for one simple reason. Christianity Today recently published a study done by Fuller Theological Seminary. The article was entitled “Put Away the Skinny Jeans.”  “But I just bought mine!!!” I protested. Let me unpack this more.

The article debunks what many in the Christian community have assumed for years—that youth are reached by a relevant service, modern music, hipster dress, a cool place to worship, youthful staff, and coffee. The key issue in reaching youth isn’t any of those things. The article lists several areas that are necessary: (1) They want to be the best possible neighbors within their cities. The churches that were “growing young” were showed high involvement and creativity in their commitment to be good neighbors (2) The goal is the gospel. Other things are good, like racial reconciliation, or social justice. But the ultimate goal is the gospel and engaging people as an expression of the gospel. (3) Key chain leadership, meaning senior leadership is avoiding leadership models that focus on personal charisma and moving towards giving the keys of power over to the younger generation. (4) Focus on youth has little to do with hiring a good youth pastor and giving them domain of a part of the property but is seen in everything from how the budget’s made to programming to planning and community life. In short, younger people are made a priority. They are needed and they feel needed! (5) Finally, older folks willingness to be part of the lives of younger folks including showing up at football games, learning their names, and supporting their endeavors.

The irony of this has to do with the demographic of Moses Lake Alliance Church where I now work as a pastor. It’s made up mostly of the kinds of people who have the biggest impact on the lives of younger people: older people. You read it right! Older folks like me (gasp—did I actually write that) who are just not yet retired (or even sixty) can have a meaningful impact on the lives of younger people by doing several simple things: (1) Caring (2) Releasing authority and responsibility into the hands of those who are ready to have it. (3) and focusing on the gospel instead of other superfluous issues.

The big challenge for any congregation is whether or not they want to do this. What I’d tell people is, “Don’t wait around for the staff to tell you how. Figure out a way to care for younger folks in the community and do it.” They’ll start inviting their friends to church, church activities, groups, and mid-sized events simply because they are cared for, loved, and respected.

Better to Post Late than not Post At All

I’m not real consistent in posting things on my blog. I blog, often on my own time, then post things when I feel like it. Part of the reason is that people have used those things I’ve posted against me. So I’m careful. 

But I’ve been struck by the things people post on Facebook and on blogs these days. I appreciate honesty and openness but I’m not so sure being that honest and open on a public venue is all that helpful. Same thing with Tweeting. Sometimes its fun to know what people are thinking, or doing, right at a given moment. But sometimes it crosses a line—a big line. A golf commentator once noted a Jordon Spieth tweet that was marginally inappropriate and said, “Well, he’ll learn to not to do that….” 

So below you’ll find a bunch of posts from a while back. Many of them posted on a church web site where I worked and just didn’t post them on my personal site. Some of them are dated. But I’d rather post late than not at all and I’d rather post late than post to regret it. More to come!

The Gift of Self Awareness

Our two oldest daughters paid Jan and I a tremendous compliment the other day. They said that we’d given them the gift of self-awareness. By that they meant that we’ve taken the time to do adequate self-reflection and, as a result, to make personal and marital changes necessary to grow. This has resulted in changes they have noticed.

I couldn’t help wondering what some of those changes were. I’m almost afraid to ask. But I know that while we perceive ourselves one way, others perception of us reflects more reality than we want to admit. Sometimes others perceptions are certainly wrong. But more often than not, there is some truth in what they see and say about us. So even if what they see or say is just partially correct, it’s still partially correct. What’s most uncomfortable in trying to become self-aware is that others are more than willing to make sure you are aware of your problems, and very unwilling to become aware of their own. It’s frustrating. After thirty years of ministry, I’ve got boat loads of stories about this.

A friend of mine calls this whole awareness thing, “Looking beneath the iceburg.” He says we have to ask ourselves honestly and frequently, “Why do I think that, why did I do that, why do I feel that?” Dan Allendar once said feelings are the window to the soul. They tell us a lot about ourselves. But so do our actions. Do we take the time to actually consider these things? More often than not, I don’t think so. It’s terrifying to discover that some of what I don’t like in others, is actually part of who I am myself. Some of the people who are the least understanding of others, are the most demanding that others understand them. They are also, in my experience, the most least aware. Does that make sense? That’s a lot of “most leasts” and it can be confusing.

Here are three ways to become more self aware: (1) Be willing to risk asking, “Why do I think, act, and feel the way I do?” Then take the time to ponder it. (2) Take others negative reactivity and gracious responses to you seriously. Even if people’s reaction, or kind words, are flawed, they can tell you something. (3) Run to Jesus work on the cross. Let the cross determine the depth of his love for you and the resurrection his capability to answer your prayer. You are loved by the king of the universe! If you have the acolades of the king, why worry about the critique of the paupers! His dying love can give you the courage to be more self-aware and make changes as necessary. (4) Be patient with yourself, it's a life long journey. Enjoy it. Celebrate and acknowledge both strengths and weaknesses.

Death and a Wager

Jan and I are on a Hunger Games marathon. I am not much of a movie guy, but the last several days we’ve been watching the series. It culminates this fall with the final of four films. I’ve been struck once again by something philosopher Charles Taylor is reported to have said in his book on secularism. It goes kind of like this, “This is the first time in human history that God has not been a part of people’s lives.” Amazing!

But then back to the Hunger Games. “I wish we were all dead,” said one character in the movie. “Really?” I thought to myself. “Dead?! Then what? Eternity!" But if you die, and go into the ground, like any other animal, and that’s it, as one friend said to me, sure! Death is a great way out of pain; a great way to flee from trouble. But what if death is more like a portal than a dead end street?

I think Pascal’s wager is a decent reason to believe there is more to life than this life. The wager goes something like this, “If you believe, and God exists, you gain everything. If you disbelieve, and God exists, you lose everything.” (You can find his description of the wager in his book Penses) That’s very simplistic but incredibly compelling since a true believer not only rejects sin with all its ugly implications, but accepts righteousness with all its corresponding beauty. In other words, you truly do gain everything if you follow Christ. Christianity, if not lived out for the glory of God and the good of others, isn’t Christianity. There should be no such thing as a self absorbed, selfish Christian.

The wager, despite some arguments to the contrary, makes sense to me and to many others. But we in the west don’t think that way. Everything is about today, about our safety and ease, about money and possessions and the good life. So at the first sign of trouble, we question God. It makes me wonder. Do I live as if there is only today? Do I live as if the only real solution to my pain is the silence and peace of death, and that’s it? Am I selfish and self-absorbed?

It’s Thanksgiving this week (obviously I wrote this before posting it), but there are millions of Syrian refugees pouring into Europe who don’t think they have much to be thankful for. Islamic Terrorists live to hurt, maim, and destroy. They are Nazi’s with turbans! But if we are followers of Christ, this is not new territory. The first century Romans, if you got on the wrong side of them, weren’t exactly the most hospitable people in the world. The early church thrived in spite of it. Perhaps we can do the same again. But our motivation must be their motivation; Gods beauty, Gods glory, Gods goodness, and Gods revelation of himself in the person and work of Christ, and the hope of eternal life. Death is not the end. This must be the motivation for our philanthropy or witness or even our living out of the Christian life. If the motivating factor is guilt, like it is for so much of modern evangelicalism, I think our philanthropy and godliness will fall flat on its face with the first sign of trouble. As C.S. Lewis said in chapter 10 of Mere Christianity, “If you read history you will find that the Christians who did most for the present world were precisely those who thought most of the next. …It is since Christians have largely ceased to think of the other world that they have become so ineffective in this. Aim at heaven you will get earth ‘thrown in.’ Aim at earth, you will get neither.” At any rate, the Hunger Games are making me think. I’ll catch the end of the story this week. Those are my thoughts for now.

Reactivity

“Why’d I say that?” I thought to myself. I’d been in a conversation with someone, a friend, and found myself reacting to something they’d said. It happened so fast it was almost automatic. In other words, the terms they used, their tone of voice, their body language, facial expressions, and the way it was said was like the pushing of a button. With that button pushed, there was an automatic reaction that was, well—automatic. It was almost like it was programmed. My father in law worked for IBM and was an electronic engineer. “Computers only do what you tell them to do,” he once told while I was complaining about my computer not working right. In other words, “It’s not to computers fault for doing what you told it to do, Dave!” I didn’t want to hear that but it was true. Within reason, the same is true of our reactivity.

Reactivity, and the corresponding fight, flight, or freeze responses often associated with it, have historical precedent in our lives. In other words, they are virtually programmed into our psyche through our family of origin, life experiences, or just plain human frailty. James and John’s response to the Samaritan village that rejected Jesus is a case of reactivity, “Lord, should we call down fire from heaven to consume them?!!” they asked. “Good heavens no!!” Was Jesus response [Miles paraphrase]. “I don’t do things like that, and neither should you.” Their reactivity to being rejected by Gentiles was tied into their Jewishness and the cultural climate of the day. The same is true for us.

Why do we react when a parent or a spouse or a friend or an enemy states an obvious opinion as if it was fact? Why do we react when a coworker blames us for something we know we didn’t do? Why do we react when our expectations, even those that are really unrealistic, aren’t met? Why do we react when people don’t act or think the way we think they should act or think? Why do we react when others do stuff that is problematic for us when we’ve never told them its problematic for us?

In reality, reactivity tells us something about ourselves. Here’s what I think: reactivity tells us that something other than God is being used to validate our worth, significance, prestige or reputation. In short, reactivity flows from idolatry. And idolatry flows from the sense that something other than God will give me joy, happiness or life. Merle Jordon in his book, Taking on the Gods, says “Essentially, persons are created in the image of God and only in being true to that inner self, linked with God, will emotional and spiritual well-being flow. When a person takes his or her identity from that which is less that the Ultimate Source of Being, then the sense of self is distorted. Various defenses [emphasis mine] and emotional and physical symptoms may appear over time which are covert modes of communicating that one is out of touch with one’s true self and with the true God.” (pg. 24)

Truthfully, we all do this. Some of us are just more overt about it than others. We may react by quietly stewing for weeks over some perceived slight. Or we may explode or become caustic or gossip or trash another person behind their back. All of this tells us more about ourselves than we are often willing to admit.

Three Kinds of People

One of the more prolific thinkers of the twentieth century is CS Lewis. I have a small book of his entitled Present Concerns which is a collection of essays he’d written over the years for various publications. One essay in particular caught my attention. It’s called “Three Kinds of People.” In that essay Lewis unpacks what I think is a critical distinction today for those from religious and non-religious backgrounds. In short, it's a critical distinction all of us need to keep in mind, especially those of us who live and work in a religiously secular (my own odd sounding phrase) culture like New England. (I can’t say for sure, but it seems to me that even the non-religious people here seem to have religious roots).

 At any rate, Lewis says that first, there are those people who live for their own sake and pleasure. We would call those non-religious people or irreligious people. Regardless of what you call them, or how you describe them, they are people who live any way they want. They simply don’t care for God or religion or spiritual things. In many cases, spiritual things aren’t even on their radar. There are more of these people around than you might think. Philosopher Charles Taylor has noted that this is the first time in human history when one can live one’s entire life without any sense of the transcendent. 

 

Then, according to Lewis, there are those people who live with a sense that there is a greater claim on their lives—God’s claim. We’ll call these religious people. But more often than not, they surrender to that claim like a man surrenders to paying taxes. They do it because they have to but then, who wants to pay taxes?! Consequently their faith is as sterile as tax day. It’s there, but they hope that having done their due diligence, and paid what they owe to God, there will be enough of life left over for them to have some fun. 

And then finally, according to Lewis, there is a third type of person. This is the person who doesn’t feel that the will of God limits their will, but it is their will. Unlike the non-religious and religious persons, they don’t live for themselves but for God; for Christ. They do what they do for Gods sake, for his beauty’s sake, for his glory’s sake. For them to live is Christ, says Lewis. 

This is a critical distinction for those who are followers of Christ, or for those who seek to know what it means to be a follower of Christ. Christianity isn’t about working hard to merit Gods blessing. That’s a tax payer mindset. Christianity is living a life of faith based on the hard work done for us on the cross by Christ. We don’t merit God’s grace. We don’t earn God’s grace. We receive God’s grace. There is no other world religion like this. None, so far as I can tell!! And when that is your mind set, the resulting joy and delight that flows from it is palpable. The motivation for obedience and worship is beauty and delight. It’s the duty of beauty, or the duty of delight, as one person calls it. So what kind of person are you?

What We Need is More Prayer!!! Really???

I got the email just a few days ago. A friend of mine, a missionary, was challenging his readers to prayer. “There has never been a revival without the concentrated prayers of God’s people,” he wrote. His impassioned plea for prayer was convicting--and exhausting. “Oh great,” I thought. “Another thing I have to do.”

From the early church to the Puritan theologian Jonathan Edwards to the more recent ministry of Concerts of Prayer, there is little doubt that prayer plays a huge role in the work God does in a church or community. I believe it. I’ve seen it work. I’ve been part of it. I promote it. When we first moved to NYC in 1985 the church in the city seemed stagnant and flat. That's not to say there was nothing happening. It just didn’t seem to be happening to any great degree. In 1987 a prayer movement began amongst pastors and leaders from the various boroughs. It started in the church where I was a staff pastor. I was there. I saw it with my own eyes. What has happened to the Church in the city since then is truly amazing. There have been hundreds of church plants, a good deal of social justice initiatives, and the city is a nicer place to live for almost everyone. I’m no church historian, but I really believe prayer was at least part of the catalyst.

But here’s the caveat: when prayer is seen as just another thing we do to achieve church growth, success, or our goals, then we’re missing the boat. Prayer brings us into presence of God. What we want in prayer is God himself, not just Gods gifts or Gods blessing. I’m all for prayer and I want us to pray more as a congregation, but what I want more than prayer is God. I want Cornerstone church to be a God saturated church where Jesus is exalted every single day of every single week, and especially on Sundays. When we want Jesus, and God, and God’s ways, we’ll be driven to pray. “Oh God, be gracious to us, we long for you,” says Isaiah the prophet (Isa 33:2).

So its true that I want to be a praying person and my churches to be praying churches. But more than that, I believe that we’ll become a praying church when we become a God saturated church. The more we love the God who sent his son to die for us, the more we’ll want him and we’ll join Isaiah’s cry, “…we long for you!” Long for God and the prayer that connects you to him—and drives revivals and movements of his Spirit—will become easier, more intense, more frequent, and more focused.

What Do You Really Want?

Scott Saul’s little book, Jesus Outside the Lines, has captured my imagination. Scott Saul is a Presbyterian Pastor in Nashville. Towards the end of the book Saul describes the inner struggle people have when it comes to obedience, a struggle that is often rooted in failure to obtain personal fulfillment and satisfaction. Our western culture tells us that we deserve to get all that that life can give. We deserve to be happy, fulfilled, and satisfied. It’s as if life owes us the best it offers. And if what makes us happy and fulfilled isn’t obtained, or achieved the way we want, then we think something’s wrong.

This mindset is tied to the radical individualism of the west. Other cultures don’t feel same. The will of the group, or family, is more important than the individual’s wants or needs. But to us in the west, we want it all, and often live in such a way to get it, even if getting it crosses God’s moral or ethical lines. So for example, if we don’t have enough money, we’ll cheat to get more. If we don’t get the love we want, we’ll have an affair. If you read the tabloids, that seems to be the American way.

Of course life rarely delivers all the goods. Dreams are shattered. Hopes go unfulfilled. Goals aren’t achieved. We don’t get into the school we want. We don’t get the job or the type of spouse we hoped for. We don’t have the money or material possessions or success we desire. Failure to obtain these things can easily discourage us and make us wonder if God cares. Worse yet, it may tempt us to obtain those things ways contradictory to what God wants—our holiness!

What’s the remedy? Back to Scott Saul’s little book. Towards the end he tells the story of a Puritan who’d been stripped of everything but a piece of bread and a glass of water. In 17^th century England, that kind of punishment was normal for religious outsiders like the Puritans. The Puritan’s response is classic, “What? All this and Jesus, too?” Do you see what he was saying?

What will make us truly happy? It’s not getting what we want. It’s getting what we were created to have, and what we really need—God himself. “Whom have I in heaven but you?!! And earth has nothing I desire besides you,” cries the Psalmist (Ps 73:25). Regardless of life’s circumstances, the long term worst case scenario for the believer is that we’ll inherit a wealth that will never spoil, perish or fade. That wealth is Jesus. So regardless of the twists and turns we experience in life, anchor your happiness and your satisfaction in his provision for you through his life, death and resurrection on your behalf. Your happiness, over the long haul, is rooted solely in him. Everything else will fade away. 

The Philly Marathon, Life, and Ministry

The long wait is over. After five years, I’ve returned to sub-three hour marathons, something that was, at one time, so predictable I didn’t even think about it. What a reality check! Injuries, age, and circumstance (heat, hills, and food poisoning to be specific) beat me to the finish line on more than one occasion. But on a cool day (it was 41 and partially cloudy at the start) on November 23, 2014 we did it. I mean “we” because Jan and some family friends, Dan and Mary Beth Wilkinson, were all part of it. The time 2:58:10 was better than I anticipated and sold me on the new training method I’ve been using. I’ll save an explanation of that for another post.

“Why would you do that?” people have asked. “I mean really?! Why go out and run like that or train like that? It seems a bit extreme.” I suppose it is extreme—like surfing in the winter is extreme and rock climbing is extreme, etc. But its more than just an addiction to extreme sports. To me, running marathons is like life. And to be specific, its like the Christian life. People in our culture don’t train for life, and consequently, we don’t stick it out when tough times come, etc. We give up on marriages, on relationships, on jobs, and other things way too easy. Dan captured some of my thinking on this in a coffee shop downtown the day before the race. Check it out.

Losing Weight--Again!

I’m losing weight, again. An elbow injury is keeping me from lifting weights, my schedule is keeping me from physical therapy that would put me on the path to elbow recovery, and my marathon training is cranking up the mileage and I’m burning thousands of calories at a time (Last Saturday I estimate that I burned 2200 calories in three hours). I’m having a hard time replenishing. I’m so busy I just don’t eat enough. One lady at church looked at me Sunday and said, “When you get back here, I’m going to fatten you up!” Hmmm. For what?

So I’m going on a see food diet. If I “see food” I’m going to eat it. I’m also going to put fasting on hold—something I did for a number of weeks. (I’d preached on it so decided to practice it leading to the inevitable loss of even more weight)

Here’s the plan: I’m going to eat smaller meals more often, and get physical therapy to get healed up so I can start to lift weights again. But the challenge to keep weight on when in serious training for marathons is really interesting. In High School and College I competed as a wrestler where I had to lose roughly fifteen pounds to make weight. The struggle to keep the weight off was sometimes brutally painful. I remember stepping on a scale once and weighing 140 lbs. I had to cut down to 118. The fear of losing 22 lbs in a short amount of time put me immediately on a diet. Now, I can’t keep weight on for the life of me. Not sure why. Wrestling practice in college was twice a day and was considerably more difficult than what I’m doing to train for marathons. I don't get it! 

Oops. Got to go. Time to eat. And for those of you who read this post and struggle to take weight off? Please don't hate me. When people don't like me, I lose weight.

The Leaf Blower from Hell (or Heaven)

It happened last Sunday (Sept 7). I was preaching, which is normal for me on a Sunday, and just as I was heading into the punch lines of my sermon, it started: the leaf blower from hell.

I don’t know what possessed the guy to turn it on at that time, right next to a church—on a hot day with the windows open—but he did. If you do any public speaking, you know when you have most people’s attention. In this case, while not everyone was locked in on my biblical exposition, I had most of them in spite of just explaining a very difficult concept. But when the leaf blower started, people were looking towards the windows, and glancing around at each other with curious looks on their faces.

I immediately got flustered and started sweating. I sweat very little so when I sweat, I’m uptight. It was so annoying I lost my place in my notes, couldn’t think straight, and essentially read the rest of the sermon directly from the notes so it would at least make sense to those who could actually hear it, or who tried to pay attention despite the distraction.

It was irritating to say the least. What was more irritating to me later was why I let it irritate me to begin with. Psalm 119:165 says, “Great peace (rest) have they who love your law, and nothing can make them stumble.” Clearly, my rest is not found in God’s providential work of leaf blowing. While I doubt very much that the person blowing leaves was antagonistic towards us as a Christian church, he or she was clearly used by God to teach me a lesson. Rest and peace is not found in a tranquil environment where I get my way all the time. It's found in the middle of God’s will. Humorously, last Sunday, that included a disruption in the middle of a sermon with a leaf blower. Why not laugh about it? Why not rest in Him in the midst of it? I choose to do so. So next Sunday Mr. Leaf Blower, bring it on!

The gospel says that its not how people respond to my preaching that makes me loved in Gods eyes but Gods dealing with the real issues in my life—my sin, my depravity, and the radical self-centeredness of my heart. So Mr. Leaf Blower, I invite you back (should you read this blog)—this time come to church (and leave your leaf blower outside) but should you turn that noisy thing on again, I’ll preach, laugh, and rest in Gods presence and not in whether or not I’m popular because I preached well.

Spiritual Consumerism

Years ago I read the book The Wild Man’s Journey by Richard Rohr. Rohr is a Catholic and the Wild Man’s Journey may be likened to Promise Keepers with a Catholic twist. This devotional article, which was shared with me by a good friend, was put on Rohr’s devotional web site. It immediately grabbed my attention.

For those of you reading this post who are Protestants, I’d ask that you set aside your preconceived notions about Catholics for a bit and consider this short article by Rohr. I want to remind you that it’s arrogant to believe that you can’t learn something from those who are of a different Christian tradition. I understand the Protestant reaction to much of Catholicism, but not everything that’s Catholic is bad. 

For my Catholic readers, consider what Rohr is saying to you! For many Catholics, faith in Christ is taking the sacraments and showing up to services twice a year. That’s not Christianity! Christianity is changing your mind about your sin (It’s ugly and damnable) and changing your mind about God (he’s glorious, loving, and beautiful) and accepting Christ’s free gift of salvation for nothing more than your faith (which is a reflection of your change of mind). Christ absorbs Gods just wrath for our sin, thus demonstrating Gods deep love for us. We are both saved by faith and grow spiritually by faith. 

For my secular friends, or for my friends who just don’t care about spiritual things, maybe its time to care. Consider taking what Jesus says seriously. It’s not as foolish as you may think. Ask yourself, is this true?! Because frankly, much of western culture is wrapped in consumer clothes, and Rohr sees through that! Enjoy!

Spiritual Capitalism by Richard Rohr

The phrase “spirituality of subtraction” was inspired by Meister Eckhart (c. 1260-1327), the medieval Dominican mystic. He said that the spiritual life has much more to do with subtraction than it does with addition. Yet I think most Christians today are involved in great part in a spirituality of addition, and in that, they are not really very traditional or conservative at all. 

The capitalist worldview is the only one most of us have ever known. We see reality, experiences, events, other people, and things—in fact, everything—as objects for our personal consumption. Even religion, Scripture, sacraments, worship services, and meritorious deeds become ways to advance ourselves—not necessarily ways to love God or neighbor.

The nature of the capitalist mind is that things (and often people!) are there for me. Finally, even God becomes an object for my consumption. Religion looks good on my resume, and anything deemed “spiritual” is a check on my private worthiness list. Some call it spiritual consumerism. It is not the Gospel.

Adapted from Radical Grace: Daily Meditations, p. 114

The Mirror

I looked in the mirror the other day. It’s something I do pretty much every day. I’d run six miles and was pretty sweaty. Hair all over the place, sweat dripping down my forehead, shirt discolored around the neck and armpits; you know the look. You’ve had it too. But then I looked again--I looked old! Yeah! I mean, real old. “If this is what running is doing to me, maybe I should stop,” I thought.

My mind went back to the book by Oscar Wilde, The Picture of Dorian Gray. If you remember the story, Dorian Gray was a handsome young man who somehow found himself painted in a picture that captured not only his outer attractiveness, but his inner soul. Over time, while he retained his good looks, the picture became increasingly distorted. He kept it locked in a room to which there was only one key—a key he went to great lengths to guard. He didn’t want anyone to see the picture. On the outside, he seemed to never age regardless of the abuse he put his body through. The picture, on the other hand, not only aged but over time, grew grotesque. With each passing year, and each degrading action, the picture of Dorian Gray grew more and more ugly. I’ll not tell you the end of the story. But its really interesting.

Aging is a fact of life. So while my physique shrinks and becomes eventually becomes infirm, I hope my soul grows stronger. In fact, is it possible that in a room in some far off place there is a picture of Dave Miles under lock and key, that grows ever more handsome, ever more beautiful, ever more debonair as I become more and more like the One who is most beautiful? It’s the opposite of Dorian Gray! It’s described in some ancient literature, “…though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day…So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen. For what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.”

Sabbatical--A Reflection

I’m on sabbatical. It’s a time of reflection, a time to rest and change the way I work. Its not a vacation. I hear people say to me, “Gee, I wish I had a sabbatical.” Maybe, perhaps, but maybe not. Sabbatical is work, but it’s not a vacation. I just work differently. It would be like transferring from one department to another for a short period of time or going back to school on paid leave for a while.  

At any rate, its an investment in my ministry, myself, and in my marriage. Fatigue, stress, and struggle can add up and create a cumulative effect of exhaustion. That’s where I’m at--tired. The kind of work and ministry I’m in has an edge to it. Typically in an interim situation, people don’t want you there. They are often glad you are there, but then they don’t really want you there. What they want is to get through the transition and back to the routine as quickly as possible. Transition, change, conflict, etc equals pain and we don’t like pain. That’s American Christianity for you! It’s a little unsettling but that is what it is. Today in the newspaper there was an article about the Muslim Brotherhood in Egypt destroying churches in response to the military take over of the government. (See NY Times, August 21, 2013). Interim work in a place like Egypt would never work. The Coptic church is just glad to be alive and in existence. They deal with life and ministry at a totally different level. The pastors there will get their sabbatical and their reward in heaven! But for us in the west, to adequately do what is needed, Sabbatical is important.

 

I’m using my sabbatical to accomplish three things: (1) Rest and rejuvenate. My sabbatical adviser suggested I work five, six hour days a week and spend the evening relaxing and doing recreational activities—running, surfing, reading, hanging out with my wife and kids. Anything fun. (2) Personal formation—I have a coach and a study plan to grow in areas I want and need to grow in academically. I’m using the time to read a lot on the gospel, moralism, ministries of mercy, and biographies. I’m also reading some books for fun—just plain fun stuff. A little George MacDonald and others. (3) Spiritual formation—just being with God. I do this through silence and the plan is to spend a half day just in silent reflection every couple of weeks.

 

This is a good discipline. Today I go on vacation. Part of my sabbatical is to surf the hurricanes coming up the east coast—something I’ve not done for about three years. Part of it is to read some books that are more difficult like Jonathan Edwards Religious Affections or The History of Redemption. I’m enjoying that.

 

Meanwhile, my other team members are working at other churches or working at getting into other churches and covering for me while I’m on break. It’s all good.

Microphones I've Met

I do a lot of public speaking so I’ve spent a considerable amount of time getting wired for sound. Over the years I’ve had my share of wrestling matches with micro-phones. Some of the more memorable ones include:

•Microphones that you need a Ph.D in to turn on. They hide the “on” button and the goal is to figure out where the blessed thing is. That’s why you see public speakers looking at the microphone like some inquisitive scientist. It tests your observational skills.

•Microphones that the battery stops working-- regularly. There is no warning. They just stop working, usually when you need them to work the most. They go on, then off, then on, then off.

•Microphones that go around the ear and around the front of your head. They are the size of a tooth pick and usually the cord goes down the “back” of your shirt with a clip to the collar. They always fall off me. One turn of the head and it’s off the ear and dangling down my back or shirt. Irritating!

•Microphones that dangle around your neck like a noose, then you drag a cord behind you. My kids still talk about the day I had one of those on and inadvertantly stepped on the cord, tightening the noose around my neck, and choking me mid-sentence while trying to soberly make a deep theological point. Not good!

•Microphones that just clip onto your shirt like a tie clip. Very simple and my favorite!

•And the newest one, it goes around the back of your head and clips over the front of your ears and the microphone sticks down in front of your face sort of like a football helmet. My latest experience with that one warranted this post.

“We have a new kind of mic for you.” The sound guy told me. “Oh great,” I thought. “Here we go again.”

“New kinds of mic’s never work for me,” I said, “I’d prefer to use a clip on—like a tie clip,” I responded. The fact is, I have a small head, small ears, glasses, and not a ton of hair right there to hold them in place. One turn of the head and it inevitably falls off. But he was not to be outdone. “Dude (he was from the west coast), I know what you mean. But this one’s fool proof. You’ll love it. It slips behind your head and around the front of your ears.” He was maybe thirty-one and experienced. “Why not?!” I thought. “Lets give it a try.” The week before, I’d managed to get my clip on mic—after the service had started! But I got it. This week I would not have the same luck. 

Fifteen minutes before the worship service I tried it on. Just getting the cord down the back, not front, of my shirt was a five-ten minute ordeal—alone in the bathroom. It was a wrestling match with the battery pack dangling down like a plumb line. By that time, I was longing for my clip on, but it was not to be found. The service was ready to start by the time I’d come from wrestling with the Mic so there was no sound check and my spiritual life was a bit frayed but I was cool.

Things went from not so good to just plain not good when I got up to preach. After I started speaking, the head gear (which goes behind your head and then over the front of your ears like a reverse face mask on a football helmet) was too big so it slid down the back of my head, then the cord leading to the battery pack got stuck in my shirt—that was the issue that went unresolved in the bathroom—so when I turned my head the crazy thing jacked up and pushed on my glasses, so that the actual mic itself was closer to my eyes than my mouth and my glasses were closer to my eyebrows not my eyes. I speak out of my mouth—not my eyes. During the sermon I was repeatedly pulling the thing out of my shirt—which must have looked really professional—and it would just slip back down again, feel weird, jack up my glasses, then I’d go through the whole giration again. By the third service I finally figured out how it worked and then understood why the guy in charge of sound said I’d love it. But it was a journey.

I still prefer a clip on!!