Just a brief tidbit of scripture to gnaw on for the rest of the day:
9 Do you not know that the wicked will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived: Neither the sexually immoral nor idolaters nor adulterers nor male prostitutes nor homosexual offenders 10 nor thieves nor the greedy nor drunkards nor slanderers nor swindlers will inherit the kingdom of God. 11 And that is what some of you were. But you were washed, you were sanctified, you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and by the Spirit of our God.
1 Corinthians 6:9-11
Recently, I've been looking through scriptures that come up when Christians engage in conversation in regard to the LGBT community because I'm in the process of formulating my vast thoughts for a research paper involving homosexual orientation, human development, psychology, and spirituality (more on that to come up later). Reading this verse, I was reminded of how grateful (enterally grateful) I am that, although I have been an immoral, idol worshipping, money lusting, stealing, cheating, sinner standing in a state of adultery to our Bridegroom, I stand forgiven. Justified. Being sanctified. Will be glorified. In my surrender, confession, and repentance, I stand clean.
Thursday, October 7, 2010
Thursday, August 19, 2010
"Build Your Kingdom as mine crumbles . . ." -Over the Ocean
I am selfish.
Yep. Self-ish. I like ish to be about (my) self.
My time is valuable (maybe more so than yours). My feelings are the most important. My opinions are right. My way is best. Why aren’t you catering to what I want and need right now?
I want to write the screenplay, produce the film, direct the shots, and perform in the lead role. Oh, and I expect an Academy Award for my performance. This is about me . . . right?
[Insert annoying buzzer sound that indicates ‘I am wrong’ here.]
Over the last few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about me. I mean, I’m pretty important to myself you know. We live in a society that celebrates individualism, choice, affluence, and progression. These things are not inherently bad, but our culture does cater to the “me” mentality.
Examples usually help illustrate ideas.:
As I strolled through my super Wal-Mart today, I began to contemplate the me-isms a bit more.
I pass the cosmetics section and see that I have 75 different types of toothpaste to pick from for me. Good thing because I just ran out. Now, do I want cinnamon, mint, baking soda with whitener . . . I make my way to Electronics just to browse, but come to find out the big screen TV I’ve been eyeing is on sale. I could just pull out my credit card and buy it immediately. Why? Why not? After all, I want it. While I’m waiting in line to buy this big screen TV, I might as well throw out a tweet about how little I paid for it and maybe post a picture of the TV with my reflection on the giant black screen onto Facebook via my iphone app. Why? Well, you must have missed the memo because this really is all about me. Not to mention, I’ve been waiting in line for all of 10 minutes because the lady in front of me with the crying baby misplaced her food stamps in her diaper bag, so I’ve got to do something to keep me entertained. Doesn’t she know she’s holding up the line? She’s wasting my time . . . and my time is valuable. Next thing I know, I’m at home attempting in vain to connect the yellow tipped cord to the correct yellow tipped connection point when my friend calls. Naturally, I silence my phone. She can wait. I have things I need to get done. I have my own kingdom to build and the Bachelor to TiVo.
This is a typical day in my life. Ok. Ok. I don’t often buy TVs (ever, actually) or watch the Bachelor . . . but that’s about the only thing in this short illustration that I don’t do. If I substitute something else for the TV, like a pair of patent leather heels in nude from Nine West or even that pack of gum I’ve wanted to try, this day looks pretty accurate (except I am fairly anti-credit cards.). And this doesn’t even touch on the intangibles that fall into my day that revolve around me: my grades, my bank account, the applause I deserve for the killer project I produced at work or pie I made at home. And don’t even get me started on the daily domination of my feelings, my emotional needs, and my opinions.
In a regular day, I think a lot about myself. In a regular day, I think very little about the rest of the world and even less about the people within my own sphere of influence and responsibility. Ouch.
Like Simba triumphantly sang, in Disney’s The Lion King “Oh I just can’t wait to be king!” I am creating a little world through my tiny, daily interactions and choices that is primarily about me. Every day, I lay another brick on the foundation of my kingdom.
BUT (the fateful word). I have given my life to my Creator and Savior. In that moment of surrender, I let go of my rights, laid down my life, and declared that this is no longer about me. My life is about building His kingdom here and now. My life is to mimic the life of Jesus- the Christ- my Savior . . . and His life was about Truth, Grace, Love, and Sacrifice. And we, as believers, are called to live a life worthy of the Gospel message. We are called to lay down our lives for our brothers (1 John 3:16). We are called to sacrifice our preferences, opinions, choices, freedoms, rights, and feelings for the weaker among us (Romans 14:13-21). We are called to give, in abundance, to those in need. We are called to look after orphans, widows, and the monetary and spiritually impoverished within out world (James 1:27). We are called to be the last (Mark 10: 28-29). We are called to bend down to our knees and wash the feet of humanity (John 13). The last time I checked, servants are not rulers over their own kingdoms.
Reflecting on my daily life, I’m reminded that I should spend some time in repentance for the selfish things I do (or lack doing) and prayer that the God who loves me enough to die for me will transform my heart and renew my mind to be fixated on His Kingdom. To help, I’ve spent some time each day slowly praying the prayer Jesus taught his disciples: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done . . . “ Matthew 6: 9-13. It’s about Him- His kingdom, His will, and our dependence on our Abba.
A local band, Over the Ocean, puts it oh so perfectly in one of their songs:
“Build Your Kingdom as mine crumbles . . . “
This is the cry of my selfish heart.
[Check out Over the Ocean. Like em? Donate a couple bills for the creation of their newest album. Go here ASAP! http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/overtheocean/be-our-record-label]
Yep. Self-ish. I like ish to be about (my) self.
My time is valuable (maybe more so than yours). My feelings are the most important. My opinions are right. My way is best. Why aren’t you catering to what I want and need right now?
I want to write the screenplay, produce the film, direct the shots, and perform in the lead role. Oh, and I expect an Academy Award for my performance. This is about me . . . right?
[Insert annoying buzzer sound that indicates ‘I am wrong’ here.]
Over the last few weeks, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about me. I mean, I’m pretty important to myself you know. We live in a society that celebrates individualism, choice, affluence, and progression. These things are not inherently bad, but our culture does cater to the “me” mentality.
Examples usually help illustrate ideas.:
As I strolled through my super Wal-Mart today, I began to contemplate the me-isms a bit more.
I pass the cosmetics section and see that I have 75 different types of toothpaste to pick from for me. Good thing because I just ran out. Now, do I want cinnamon, mint, baking soda with whitener . . . I make my way to Electronics just to browse, but come to find out the big screen TV I’ve been eyeing is on sale. I could just pull out my credit card and buy it immediately. Why? Why not? After all, I want it. While I’m waiting in line to buy this big screen TV, I might as well throw out a tweet about how little I paid for it and maybe post a picture of the TV with my reflection on the giant black screen onto Facebook via my iphone app. Why? Well, you must have missed the memo because this really is all about me. Not to mention, I’ve been waiting in line for all of 10 minutes because the lady in front of me with the crying baby misplaced her food stamps in her diaper bag, so I’ve got to do something to keep me entertained. Doesn’t she know she’s holding up the line? She’s wasting my time . . . and my time is valuable. Next thing I know, I’m at home attempting in vain to connect the yellow tipped cord to the correct yellow tipped connection point when my friend calls. Naturally, I silence my phone. She can wait. I have things I need to get done. I have my own kingdom to build and the Bachelor to TiVo.
This is a typical day in my life. Ok. Ok. I don’t often buy TVs (ever, actually) or watch the Bachelor . . . but that’s about the only thing in this short illustration that I don’t do. If I substitute something else for the TV, like a pair of patent leather heels in nude from Nine West or even that pack of gum I’ve wanted to try, this day looks pretty accurate (except I am fairly anti-credit cards.). And this doesn’t even touch on the intangibles that fall into my day that revolve around me: my grades, my bank account, the applause I deserve for the killer project I produced at work or pie I made at home. And don’t even get me started on the daily domination of my feelings, my emotional needs, and my opinions.
In a regular day, I think a lot about myself. In a regular day, I think very little about the rest of the world and even less about the people within my own sphere of influence and responsibility. Ouch.
Like Simba triumphantly sang, in Disney’s The Lion King “Oh I just can’t wait to be king!” I am creating a little world through my tiny, daily interactions and choices that is primarily about me. Every day, I lay another brick on the foundation of my kingdom.
BUT (the fateful word). I have given my life to my Creator and Savior. In that moment of surrender, I let go of my rights, laid down my life, and declared that this is no longer about me. My life is about building His kingdom here and now. My life is to mimic the life of Jesus- the Christ- my Savior . . . and His life was about Truth, Grace, Love, and Sacrifice. And we, as believers, are called to live a life worthy of the Gospel message. We are called to lay down our lives for our brothers (1 John 3:16). We are called to sacrifice our preferences, opinions, choices, freedoms, rights, and feelings for the weaker among us (Romans 14:13-21). We are called to give, in abundance, to those in need. We are called to look after orphans, widows, and the monetary and spiritually impoverished within out world (James 1:27). We are called to be the last (Mark 10: 28-29). We are called to bend down to our knees and wash the feet of humanity (John 13). The last time I checked, servants are not rulers over their own kingdoms.
Reflecting on my daily life, I’m reminded that I should spend some time in repentance for the selfish things I do (or lack doing) and prayer that the God who loves me enough to die for me will transform my heart and renew my mind to be fixated on His Kingdom. To help, I’ve spent some time each day slowly praying the prayer Jesus taught his disciples: “Our Father in heaven, hallowed be Your name, Your kingdom come, Your will be done . . . “ Matthew 6: 9-13. It’s about Him- His kingdom, His will, and our dependence on our Abba.
A local band, Over the Ocean, puts it oh so perfectly in one of their songs:
“Build Your Kingdom as mine crumbles . . . “
This is the cry of my selfish heart.
[Check out Over the Ocean. Like em? Donate a couple bills for the creation of their newest album. Go here ASAP! http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/overtheocean/be-our-record-label]
Wednesday, June 23, 2010
Prosperity and Happiness.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a great deal about suffering.
(I know you’re tempted to stop reading because I undoubtedly have sucked out any joy that was in the room prior to your reading this buzz kill of a sentence. Fight the temptation.)
Lets try again.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the human condition, suffering, and prosperity.
My thoughts on these three topics were stirred more so over the past week as conversations with wise and endearing friends breezed between stories of personal pain to the theological validity of the prosperity gospel. And I began to weigh the reality of suffering against the teachings of the prosperity gospel.
Ready. Set. Go.
What immediately comes to mind when the words ‘Prosperity Gospel’ enter your cognitive processing center? Personally, I think Aston Martin, Bill Gates’s money, and an endless supply of York Peppermint Patties. In short, material wealth immediately jumps to the forefront. I think of the distortion of scriptures like, “Ask and you shall receive," etc. I think mega churches, a large spinning golden globe, and tithing for the purpose of getting back 10 fold what you’ve given. I think material. We are living in a material world, and I am a material girl. This form of the prosperity gospel, the “God wants to/will give me the things I want because He loves me,” is easily spotted by most Christians whose roots are deep in scripture’s soil. So many of us scoff and wonder how people are so easily led astray by these distorted teachings of God’s word. Many of us find ourselves outraged by false teachings on material blessings and heartbroken knowing there are sheep who are being led into the greener field only to find it is a mirage.
However, many of us miss another form of the prosperity gospel. For the sake of brevity, lets call it the ‘happy gospel.’ The ‘happy gospel’ is a form of the prosperity gospel. However, this message is not fixated on the material but on the emotional. The prosperity preached is one of emotional blessing and positive circumstances.
This version of the prosperity gospel is subtle and oh-so-hard to weed out because it is based on some truth. We should pray boldly and believe for God to move in our circumstances: healing, delivering, and redeeming. I believe in a God who responds to prayer. We should be transformed by the Holy Spirit and the Living Word in a way that eliminates the lies we believe about our Heavenly Father and ourselves. We should stand firm on truth and hold fast to the belief that God is our protector, our source of life, and always in control. Our minds are to be made new and renewed.
But this prosperity gospel, the ‘happy gospel,’ candy coats these nuggets of truth in a way that seems. . . well . . . misleading. If you listen closely, these messages begin to sound a bit like the message of Peter Pan: Think happy thoughts, sprinkle on a little God dust, and we can fly! Even worse, these messages (often one-liners dropped into a sermon full of Biblical truth) sound a bit like new age karma. Believe for the positive and it will happen. Mind over matter. As the happy gospel tiptoes down the very thin and blurry line between truth and false doctrine, I find I am more and more concerned by the potential damage it could cause to newer believers.
Enter from stage left: Suffering.
As I mull over the prosperity gospel, my mind wanders away from the immense gold plated road of blessing to the side road of suffering- a rocky, barely visible, and almost un-traversable pathway. What happens when these Christians, subtly taught that their way of thinking somehow dictates God’s response to their circumstances, smack against the concrete wall of pain? What happens when the blessings of happiness from our positive thinking stop falling from the sky and we crash and burn into the crater of difficult life situations? What happens when a daughter is diagnosed with terminal cancer or a husband has an affair? What happens when a soldier doesn’t come back from war or a single mother loses her house? What happens when it seems as though God is not answering or isn’t even there at all? Will these newer followers of Jesus begin to ask, “But I prayed so hard and believed that God would intervene! Why didn’t He? Did I not believe hard enough?” God is all of a sudden reduced to the size of a child who is expected to play by our rules. Faith becomes a formula and righteousness becomes the power of positive thinking instead of sanctification done by the power of the Spirit. We start to sound like we are once again living by the Old Covenant, except this covenant focuses on our checklist of thoughts instead of the Hebrew checklist of actions.
At one point or another during this 95 year long stroll threw the woods with Jesus, we all will trip over the question of suffering and ask how this misplaced rock ended up in our path. But what if the ‘happy gospel’ is setting up Christians to run into the wall of suffering in a way that prohibits them from finding the window to crawl out the other side? What if the ‘happy gospel’ is subtly altering individual’s views on grace, righteousness, and the sovereign power of God? Houston, we have a problem.
My prayer is that we are reminded daily that God is bigger than our finite minds. God is bigger than my false beliefs. He does want to crush the lies whispered by the enemy so that I may know His character. God is bigger than my fears. He does want me to let go of my worry and trust in His provision. God is greater than my most positive thinking and wise enough to know what circumstance in my life will bring Him the most glory and bring me a step closer to knowing Him.
God cares about my emotional well being and my circumstances. But God also cares about my transformation into His likeness and my knowledge of His character. More than being temporarily happy and positive, God wants me to know the still and peaceful joy that resides only in a relationship with Him- a joy that persists regardless of my present circumstances or my state of mind. Although the peachy-keenness of positive thinking is a great attribute, what if real positive thinking means being able to lift my hands with tears streaming down my face and praise the Author of my Faith declaring that though I do not understand why I’m suffering I know that my Savior will bring me through it and on to eternity’s shore.
This blog post is already long and I feel as though I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I’m really trying to hit on. This post may be too much to follow, and hard to understand if you haven’t heard the type of sermon or subtle message I’m talking about. I hope to provide a clearer picture over the next week. If you have concerns or questions, as always throw em at me.
(I know you’re tempted to stop reading because I undoubtedly have sucked out any joy that was in the room prior to your reading this buzz kill of a sentence. Fight the temptation.)
Lets try again.
Lately, I’ve been thinking a lot about the human condition, suffering, and prosperity.
My thoughts on these three topics were stirred more so over the past week as conversations with wise and endearing friends breezed between stories of personal pain to the theological validity of the prosperity gospel. And I began to weigh the reality of suffering against the teachings of the prosperity gospel.
Ready. Set. Go.
What immediately comes to mind when the words ‘Prosperity Gospel’ enter your cognitive processing center? Personally, I think Aston Martin, Bill Gates’s money, and an endless supply of York Peppermint Patties. In short, material wealth immediately jumps to the forefront. I think of the distortion of scriptures like, “Ask and you shall receive," etc. I think mega churches, a large spinning golden globe, and tithing for the purpose of getting back 10 fold what you’ve given. I think material. We are living in a material world, and I am a material girl. This form of the prosperity gospel, the “God wants to/will give me the things I want because He loves me,” is easily spotted by most Christians whose roots are deep in scripture’s soil. So many of us scoff and wonder how people are so easily led astray by these distorted teachings of God’s word. Many of us find ourselves outraged by false teachings on material blessings and heartbroken knowing there are sheep who are being led into the greener field only to find it is a mirage.
However, many of us miss another form of the prosperity gospel. For the sake of brevity, lets call it the ‘happy gospel.’ The ‘happy gospel’ is a form of the prosperity gospel. However, this message is not fixated on the material but on the emotional. The prosperity preached is one of emotional blessing and positive circumstances.
This version of the prosperity gospel is subtle and oh-so-hard to weed out because it is based on some truth. We should pray boldly and believe for God to move in our circumstances: healing, delivering, and redeeming. I believe in a God who responds to prayer. We should be transformed by the Holy Spirit and the Living Word in a way that eliminates the lies we believe about our Heavenly Father and ourselves. We should stand firm on truth and hold fast to the belief that God is our protector, our source of life, and always in control. Our minds are to be made new and renewed.
But this prosperity gospel, the ‘happy gospel,’ candy coats these nuggets of truth in a way that seems. . . well . . . misleading. If you listen closely, these messages begin to sound a bit like the message of Peter Pan: Think happy thoughts, sprinkle on a little God dust, and we can fly! Even worse, these messages (often one-liners dropped into a sermon full of Biblical truth) sound a bit like new age karma. Believe for the positive and it will happen. Mind over matter. As the happy gospel tiptoes down the very thin and blurry line between truth and false doctrine, I find I am more and more concerned by the potential damage it could cause to newer believers.
Enter from stage left: Suffering.
As I mull over the prosperity gospel, my mind wanders away from the immense gold plated road of blessing to the side road of suffering- a rocky, barely visible, and almost un-traversable pathway. What happens when these Christians, subtly taught that their way of thinking somehow dictates God’s response to their circumstances, smack against the concrete wall of pain? What happens when the blessings of happiness from our positive thinking stop falling from the sky and we crash and burn into the crater of difficult life situations? What happens when a daughter is diagnosed with terminal cancer or a husband has an affair? What happens when a soldier doesn’t come back from war or a single mother loses her house? What happens when it seems as though God is not answering or isn’t even there at all? Will these newer followers of Jesus begin to ask, “But I prayed so hard and believed that God would intervene! Why didn’t He? Did I not believe hard enough?” God is all of a sudden reduced to the size of a child who is expected to play by our rules. Faith becomes a formula and righteousness becomes the power of positive thinking instead of sanctification done by the power of the Spirit. We start to sound like we are once again living by the Old Covenant, except this covenant focuses on our checklist of thoughts instead of the Hebrew checklist of actions.
At one point or another during this 95 year long stroll threw the woods with Jesus, we all will trip over the question of suffering and ask how this misplaced rock ended up in our path. But what if the ‘happy gospel’ is setting up Christians to run into the wall of suffering in a way that prohibits them from finding the window to crawl out the other side? What if the ‘happy gospel’ is subtly altering individual’s views on grace, righteousness, and the sovereign power of God? Houston, we have a problem.
My prayer is that we are reminded daily that God is bigger than our finite minds. God is bigger than my false beliefs. He does want to crush the lies whispered by the enemy so that I may know His character. God is bigger than my fears. He does want me to let go of my worry and trust in His provision. God is greater than my most positive thinking and wise enough to know what circumstance in my life will bring Him the most glory and bring me a step closer to knowing Him.
God cares about my emotional well being and my circumstances. But God also cares about my transformation into His likeness and my knowledge of His character. More than being temporarily happy and positive, God wants me to know the still and peaceful joy that resides only in a relationship with Him- a joy that persists regardless of my present circumstances or my state of mind. Although the peachy-keenness of positive thinking is a great attribute, what if real positive thinking means being able to lift my hands with tears streaming down my face and praise the Author of my Faith declaring that though I do not understand why I’m suffering I know that my Savior will bring me through it and on to eternity’s shore.
This blog post is already long and I feel as though I’ve barely scratched the surface of what I’m really trying to hit on. This post may be too much to follow, and hard to understand if you haven’t heard the type of sermon or subtle message I’m talking about. I hope to provide a clearer picture over the next week. If you have concerns or questions, as always throw em at me.
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Where is the Mission Field?
19 "Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, 20 and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Christ's statement in Matthew 28 to the disciples
As a follower of Jesus, the call on my life is this: to go and make disciples of all nations. I am commanded by Jesus to spread the good news to those unreached, to aid them as they surrender their lives and accept Christ as their only savior, and to teach them to obey the commands of our Heavenly Father.
I know the mission, but the question I wrestle with remains: Where is the mission field? Who are the unreached?
As I've pushed and shoved at the question of "Where is the mission field?" in a vain attempt to fit the definition into my tiny, comfortable shoe box of theological answers and wisdom, I've quickly realized that the only way to answer this question is to ask my Abba. Lord, where is my mission field? Where are the lost you are asking me to seek and shepherd? Where is my rescue shop within a yard of hell? ("Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell." C.T. Studd)
Like an amoeba, my question goes through mitosis and cytokinesis and similar questions are reproduced.
To define my mission field, I need to answer the question, "Who are the lost? Where are the people that don't know Christ and His saving grace?"
This morning, Jesus reminded me of where my rescue shop currently is located as I read the first chapter of Romans. Read Romans 1: 21-32.
Paul is writing to the Roman church. In this particular part of the book of Romans, Paul addresses the sin of all mankind (Romans 3:23) by addressing the sinfulness of the Gentiles specifically; thus reminding all mankind that salvation and righteousness come from faith alone (Romans 1:17). For more commentary, please see: http://bible.org/seriespage/study-and-exposition-romans-118-32
A few snippets:
23 "and exchanged the glory of God for images made to look like mortal man . . ."
24 "gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity. . . "
25 "They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator. . . "
28-31 "They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed, and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogance, and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil, they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless."
Idolatry. Sexual impurity. Greed. Envy. Murder. Lies. Gossip. Slander. Arrogance. Ruthless, God-haters.
These folks sound lost. Ship-wrecked on an island of 'me, myself, and I', they live in accordance with their flesh and worship themselves. If I were to paint a mural of this society, what would this mural look like?
I imagine I'd paint tall golden statues and temples where other gods are worshipped. I'd color people bringing their goods -their lives- to the steps of these temples. I'd draw a murder scene in a back alley, a prostitute and her solicitor on the corner of the street, a man stealing in the marketplace, and women whispering in corners.
Skyscrapers, Wall Street buildings, Banks where I, lying prostrate, give up my house, my career, and sometimes my freedom for a loan scribbled out on paper. Malls, strip malls, and Rodeo drive where I bow to materialism. A country where approximately 17,000 people are murdered, 93,000 women are forcible raped, and 832,000 people are assaulted each year (2005 estimates) . . . and imagine the incidents that go unreported. A nation where prostitution is a $14 billion industry and child pornography generates $3 billion dollars annually. Where the wealthiest 25% of the households own 87% of all of the nation's wealth.
The picture I'd paint looks a lot like the United States.
The idols we bow to are the images of ourselves. The shrines we create out of bricks and mortar are our 5,000 square ft houses and $60,000 automobiles. The goods we sacrifice to gods are the goods that fill our own insatiable appetites and hungry stomachs because we are our own gods.
As I gaze out across the image I have painted and compare and contrast it to the lost and depraved of Rome, the answer to my question comes into focus.
My mission field is in the check-out line of Walmart, at the block party in my neighborhood, at my church's women's' Bible study mornings, at my local middle school, and in my corporate office. My mission field is vast, complicated, riddled with depression, isolation, depravity, and sin.
My mission field is here, in a country of idolatry, greed, and insatiable lust. Like the Gentiles of Rome, so many of us have heard the stories of Jesus Christ, yet we are a people who do not know the saving grace of Christ's wounds nor desire to glorify our Creator.
We are the lost.
As a follower of Jesus, the call on my life is this: to go and make disciples of all nations. I am commanded by Jesus to spread the good news to those unreached, to aid them as they surrender their lives and accept Christ as their only savior, and to teach them to obey the commands of our Heavenly Father.
I know the mission, but the question I wrestle with remains: Where is the mission field? Who are the unreached?
As I've pushed and shoved at the question of "Where is the mission field?" in a vain attempt to fit the definition into my tiny, comfortable shoe box of theological answers and wisdom, I've quickly realized that the only way to answer this question is to ask my Abba. Lord, where is my mission field? Where are the lost you are asking me to seek and shepherd? Where is my rescue shop within a yard of hell? ("Some want to live within the sound of church or chapel bell; I want to run a rescue shop within a yard of hell." C.T. Studd)
Like an amoeba, my question goes through mitosis and cytokinesis and similar questions are reproduced.
To define my mission field, I need to answer the question, "Who are the lost? Where are the people that don't know Christ and His saving grace?"
This morning, Jesus reminded me of where my rescue shop currently is located as I read the first chapter of Romans. Read Romans 1: 21-32.
Paul is writing to the Roman church. In this particular part of the book of Romans, Paul addresses the sin of all mankind (Romans 3:23) by addressing the sinfulness of the Gentiles specifically; thus reminding all mankind that salvation and righteousness come from faith alone (Romans 1:17). For more commentary, please see: http://bible.org/seriespage/study-and-exposition-romans-118-32
A few snippets:
23 "and exchanged the glory of God for images made to look like mortal man . . ."
24 "gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity. . . "
25 "They exchanged the truth of God for a lie, and worshiped and served created things rather than the Creator. . . "
28-31 "They have become filled with every kind of wickedness, evil, greed, and depravity. They are full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, and malice. They are gossips, slanderers, God-haters, insolent, arrogance, and boastful; they invent ways of doing evil, they disobey their parents; they are senseless, faithless, heartless, ruthless."
Idolatry. Sexual impurity. Greed. Envy. Murder. Lies. Gossip. Slander. Arrogance. Ruthless, God-haters.
These folks sound lost. Ship-wrecked on an island of 'me, myself, and I', they live in accordance with their flesh and worship themselves. If I were to paint a mural of this society, what would this mural look like?
I imagine I'd paint tall golden statues and temples where other gods are worshipped. I'd color people bringing their goods -their lives- to the steps of these temples. I'd draw a murder scene in a back alley, a prostitute and her solicitor on the corner of the street, a man stealing in the marketplace, and women whispering in corners.
Skyscrapers, Wall Street buildings, Banks where I, lying prostrate, give up my house, my career, and sometimes my freedom for a loan scribbled out on paper. Malls, strip malls, and Rodeo drive where I bow to materialism. A country where approximately 17,000 people are murdered, 93,000 women are forcible raped, and 832,000 people are assaulted each year (2005 estimates) . . . and imagine the incidents that go unreported. A nation where prostitution is a $14 billion industry and child pornography generates $3 billion dollars annually. Where the wealthiest 25% of the households own 87% of all of the nation's wealth.
The picture I'd paint looks a lot like the United States.
The idols we bow to are the images of ourselves. The shrines we create out of bricks and mortar are our 5,000 square ft houses and $60,000 automobiles. The goods we sacrifice to gods are the goods that fill our own insatiable appetites and hungry stomachs because we are our own gods.
As I gaze out across the image I have painted and compare and contrast it to the lost and depraved of Rome, the answer to my question comes into focus.
My mission field is in the check-out line of Walmart, at the block party in my neighborhood, at my church's women's' Bible study mornings, at my local middle school, and in my corporate office. My mission field is vast, complicated, riddled with depression, isolation, depravity, and sin.
My mission field is here, in a country of idolatry, greed, and insatiable lust. Like the Gentiles of Rome, so many of us have heard the stories of Jesus Christ, yet we are a people who do not know the saving grace of Christ's wounds nor desire to glorify our Creator.
We are the lost.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Tran-si-to-ry: adj. tending to pass away; of brief duration
As I haphazardly flipped through a stack of GRE flashcards thirty minutes prior to test time (the second time I'd looked through them mind you), my mind froze on the word transitory and its meaning has yet to pass out of my consciousness (ha, irony).
Transitory.
Zoom in: My time left in Charlottesville is oh so painfully transitory. 5 days and counting down. . .
Zoom out: We are a people who live transitory lives.
Before you jump the gun and begin quoting one of the four times in Psalms (Psalm 39:5 & 11; Psalm 62:9; Psalm 144:4) that the author states that "man is but a breath" track with me for a minute. (We'll get there later.)
Globalization. Industrialization. Technologicalization (made that one up). We are a people on the go globally. Whether you're flying to Hong Kong, on a train through Austria, or sailing on the coast of Chile, we are moving, changing, and engaging in transitory relationships. Brief relationships. Relationships that tend to pass away as I board the plane for New Mexico and you drive to Maine. As I come to grips with the passing of my time in Charlottesville, I can't help but wonder if all of our hustle and bustle has aided and abetted our inability to engage in lifelong relationship.
Qualifiers: Yes, people do have lifelong relationships. There are people in my life who do not share my DNA whom I have known since I was itty bitty. Marriage is (should be) a lifelong relationship. I'm not denying the existence of lifelong relationship. . .
However, I do wonder if our advancements are a detriment to our relationships. With on-the-go lifestyles and pocketed technology, I don't have to sit down with Lucy and ask her how she's doing. I don't even have to write her a letter and wait for a return. I can check her Facebook status while I'm in the car at a red light (I do not condone doing anything while driving). I'm ok with my relationship with Lucy being transitory because, thanks to Twitter, I'll always have some idea as to what she is doing. And as long as I have some idea as to what her yoga class was like last week via her status update, we're still friends. . . right?
We are overly connected yet we are tragically unengaged.
Having read through the Gospels, I don't believe this is how Jesus and His followers did life. Of course, Jesus didn't have the opportunity to fly to Hong Kong or tweet the Great Commission, so I can't confidently state that he would not have utilized Twitter had he been given the opportunity. I can, however, confidently state that Christ's inner circle of relationships were deep, engaged, and cohesive. Jesus did life with his confidants. The disciples ate together, slept in sleeping bags next to each other, learned together, failed together, and were transformed by Jesus together. As iron sharpens iron, one disciple sharpened another. When they were sent out, they went in pairs, like socks. The journey of transformation was done together, face-to-face, in engaged relationship.
Of course, as Christ's season on earth came to an end (for the time being), they were asked to go out onto all the earth and make disciples of all nations. Most went in pairs as they had learned to do previously. In some instances, they journeyed independently. However, they still engaged one another. John didn't have the luxury of checking MySpace to sneak a peek at Peter's recent post on the development of the Christian church in Antioch. He was forced to engage. Letters were written and responses were eagerly anticipated (for months).
Life is transitory. Things are always passing away, whether its my time in Charlottesville or my time here on earth. That doesn't mean we have to treat our relationships as transitory. That doesn't give us the ok to disengage and utilize our new social networks to check-in on Lucy's life by clicking through her recent photo album uploads. Maybe there are some relationships which are meant to be watered and nurtured for a lifetime? Maybe there are some people who will walk through the ups and downs of life with me and continue to be used as a source of grace, truth, and love even when our season of proximity has come to a close? Maybe its up to me to engage these relationships with active participation instead of social-network voyeurism? What would our relationships, our ministries even, look like if we utilized the blessings of technology to engage more regularly in each others lives?
If Paul can send a letter to Timothy and wait for a response, I should be able to make a phone call. Relationships flux with seasons and there are times when certain relationships should come to an end, but what if as I'm in the airport on the way to Portland I call my best friend in Texas and share the epiphany I had that morning about the woman at the well?
As we transit, transition, transfer, and travel transcontinentally, my relationships- the Jonathan and David variety- do not have to pass away.
. . . and, in case you are wondering, the word transitory did not show up on my GRE.
Transitory.
Zoom in: My time left in Charlottesville is oh so painfully transitory. 5 days and counting down. . .
Zoom out: We are a people who live transitory lives.
Before you jump the gun and begin quoting one of the four times in Psalms (Psalm 39:5 & 11; Psalm 62:9; Psalm 144:4) that the author states that "man is but a breath" track with me for a minute. (We'll get there later.)
Globalization. Industrialization. Technologicalization (made that one up). We are a people on the go globally. Whether you're flying to Hong Kong, on a train through Austria, or sailing on the coast of Chile, we are moving, changing, and engaging in transitory relationships. Brief relationships. Relationships that tend to pass away as I board the plane for New Mexico and you drive to Maine. As I come to grips with the passing of my time in Charlottesville, I can't help but wonder if all of our hustle and bustle has aided and abetted our inability to engage in lifelong relationship.
Qualifiers: Yes, people do have lifelong relationships. There are people in my life who do not share my DNA whom I have known since I was itty bitty. Marriage is (should be) a lifelong relationship. I'm not denying the existence of lifelong relationship. . .
However, I do wonder if our advancements are a detriment to our relationships. With on-the-go lifestyles and pocketed technology, I don't have to sit down with Lucy and ask her how she's doing. I don't even have to write her a letter and wait for a return. I can check her Facebook status while I'm in the car at a red light (I do not condone doing anything while driving). I'm ok with my relationship with Lucy being transitory because, thanks to Twitter, I'll always have some idea as to what she is doing. And as long as I have some idea as to what her yoga class was like last week via her status update, we're still friends. . . right?
We are overly connected yet we are tragically unengaged.
Having read through the Gospels, I don't believe this is how Jesus and His followers did life. Of course, Jesus didn't have the opportunity to fly to Hong Kong or tweet the Great Commission, so I can't confidently state that he would not have utilized Twitter had he been given the opportunity. I can, however, confidently state that Christ's inner circle of relationships were deep, engaged, and cohesive. Jesus did life with his confidants. The disciples ate together, slept in sleeping bags next to each other, learned together, failed together, and were transformed by Jesus together. As iron sharpens iron, one disciple sharpened another. When they were sent out, they went in pairs, like socks. The journey of transformation was done together, face-to-face, in engaged relationship.
Of course, as Christ's season on earth came to an end (for the time being), they were asked to go out onto all the earth and make disciples of all nations. Most went in pairs as they had learned to do previously. In some instances, they journeyed independently. However, they still engaged one another. John didn't have the luxury of checking MySpace to sneak a peek at Peter's recent post on the development of the Christian church in Antioch. He was forced to engage. Letters were written and responses were eagerly anticipated (for months).
Life is transitory. Things are always passing away, whether its my time in Charlottesville or my time here on earth. That doesn't mean we have to treat our relationships as transitory. That doesn't give us the ok to disengage and utilize our new social networks to check-in on Lucy's life by clicking through her recent photo album uploads. Maybe there are some relationships which are meant to be watered and nurtured for a lifetime? Maybe there are some people who will walk through the ups and downs of life with me and continue to be used as a source of grace, truth, and love even when our season of proximity has come to a close? Maybe its up to me to engage these relationships with active participation instead of social-network voyeurism? What would our relationships, our ministries even, look like if we utilized the blessings of technology to engage more regularly in each others lives?
If Paul can send a letter to Timothy and wait for a response, I should be able to make a phone call. Relationships flux with seasons and there are times when certain relationships should come to an end, but what if as I'm in the airport on the way to Portland I call my best friend in Texas and share the epiphany I had that morning about the woman at the well?
As we transit, transition, transfer, and travel transcontinentally, my relationships- the Jonathan and David variety- do not have to pass away.
. . . and, in case you are wondering, the word transitory did not show up on my GRE.
Friday, April 30, 2010
An Unusual Day To Start a Blog. . . but why not?
"When we arrive at eternity's shore, where death is just a memory and tears are no more. We'll enter in as the wedding bells ring; Your bride will come together and we'll sing You're beautiful." -Phil Wickham
Grief makes you do funny things like cry, scream, sit in silence, eat too much chocolate, not eat at all, or . . . blog? Yesterday at 2am my premature nephew Ryder Lauren Picton passed away. He was 1lb 5 oz and he was beautiful. Needless-to-say, the last 24 hours have been brutal for my bruised and broken family. Although I've walked through difficult circumstances in my life many times over, this one takes the cake, the ice cream, and the high-fructose-corn-syrup-soda with it.
I think all blog's should be started in a moment of internal chaos and emotional disarray.
The out pour of sympathy, encouragement, and scriptural truths have gotten me thinking about the things we tell ourselves in the midst of suffering.
For instance, we cry out, "where, O death, is your sting?" Well, if you'd really like to know, I can tell you exactly where the sting of death resides. The aching, sharp sting lies in my sister's heart and mind as she comes to grips with the fact her first born son will never be in her arms. The sting lies in the ache of my mother's and father's eyes as they desperately try to comfort their youngest daughter and manage their own grief over the death of their first grandbaby. The sting echoes through the silence of our house along with the crying we can hear from my sister's bedroom. The sting leaves me breathless as tears and emotions I did not know I was capable of well over and spill onto my lap as I hold my nephew for the very first time and the last time in the same moment. This is the sting of death.
I can already hear the grumblings over my negativity and I know half of you are about to offer to spoon feed me Biblical truth. . . but really, death stings. Jesus never denied it. In fact, the Bible clearly illustrates that Jesus too felt the sting of death as an onlooker. . .
Biblical recap. The Death of Lazarus.
Although there are layers upon layers I could touch on in this single story, there's one point I want to focus on. My God- the Creator of the Universe, our healer, our Savior, the King of Kings, and Prince of Peace- wept. Jesus, fully God and fully man, wept (John 11:35).
Jesus wept.
And as Jesus wept, the Jews who had come to mourn for Lazarus declared, "see how he (Jesus) loved him (Lazarus)."
Because Jesus loved Lazarus, our Savior wept.
I think its interesting to note that Jesus, being one with God and the Holy Spirit, already knew the final outcome of these events. Christ knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead. Furthermore, He already knew that in just a short time to follow these events He would be betrayed, beaten, nailed to a cross for dead, and on the third day resurrected. Christ knew that the enemy was going to be defeated. As He wept for Lazarus, He already knew that death would not hold Him down and that through His atoning sacrifice those who put their faith in Him would never be bound by death. Yes, Christ knew that He would forever do away with death's sting as He walked with Mary to the tomb of Lazarus.
Yet, it did not stop Him from weeping in front of the crowd that had gathered.
As I prepared a Bible study on this chapter in John a few years ago, I remember getting hung up on these two words- the shortest verse in the NIV translation. I just couldn't get over the fact that my God, the all-knowing and all-powerful, cried. Snotty nose, puffy and blood shot-eyes, moans and sob, Jesus probably looked as rough as I have looked over the last 24 hours. I kept saying out loud over and over again, "Can you believe it? Jesus wept!"
As I've walked through the sting of death and the never ending flood of salt water over the last 24 hours, I've thought through this scripture once again and pondered a point my pastor made not too long ago: We were never meant to experience death. Suffering was not in God's original plan but was a result of the fall of man.
Jesus wept because He loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and Jesus knew that the suffering we must endure on earth is not part of His Father's creation. As Christ witnessed the agony caused by death, I believe He was moved and His heart cried out, "This is not the way I meant for this to be!"
Fortunately, thanks to the resurrection of Jesus, this is not the way it will be forever. In the meantime, this middle of eternity's road where death still stings, I'm comforted knowing that God weeps over our suffering. I'm comforted knowing that He wants nothing more than to heal our broken hearts as we witness death and the pain of distorted creation. I'm comforted knowing that Jesus loves me, my sister Lesley, my family, and baby Ryder (John 11:5) enough to cry with us.
I have no doubt that, as Ryder passed into God's gentle hands and my sister screamed and cried on the living room floor, Jesus was weeping.
Praise God that death has lost the sting that resounds for eternity. Praise the Lord that death is not where the story ends.
Just as Lazarus was raised from the dead, I have no doubt that God will be glorified through the death of baby Ryder (I have to admit, as I held him for the first time, I prayed pretty intensely for a resurrection. In fact, I don't think I've every prayed so hard for something in my life.). I have no doubt (and pray with all my heart) that, like the onlookers who watched Lazarus return to life did so (John 11:45), those who have walked through this loss with our family will put their faith in Jesus Christ and for them death will forever lose its sting. And my tears of sorrow turn to tears of rejoicing because death, thanks be to God, is never in vain but always used for our redemption and His unfathomable glory.
Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 5:3 And as my hope is in Him, I'm even more motivated to use my suffering to preach His healing grace. Take that death; take that.
Grief makes you do funny things like cry, scream, sit in silence, eat too much chocolate, not eat at all, or . . . blog? Yesterday at 2am my premature nephew Ryder Lauren Picton passed away. He was 1lb 5 oz and he was beautiful. Needless-to-say, the last 24 hours have been brutal for my bruised and broken family. Although I've walked through difficult circumstances in my life many times over, this one takes the cake, the ice cream, and the high-fructose-corn-syrup-soda with it.
I think all blog's should be started in a moment of internal chaos and emotional disarray.
The out pour of sympathy, encouragement, and scriptural truths have gotten me thinking about the things we tell ourselves in the midst of suffering.
For instance, we cry out, "where, O death, is your sting?" Well, if you'd really like to know, I can tell you exactly where the sting of death resides. The aching, sharp sting lies in my sister's heart and mind as she comes to grips with the fact her first born son will never be in her arms. The sting lies in the ache of my mother's and father's eyes as they desperately try to comfort their youngest daughter and manage their own grief over the death of their first grandbaby. The sting echoes through the silence of our house along with the crying we can hear from my sister's bedroom. The sting leaves me breathless as tears and emotions I did not know I was capable of well over and spill onto my lap as I hold my nephew for the very first time and the last time in the same moment. This is the sting of death.
I can already hear the grumblings over my negativity and I know half of you are about to offer to spoon feed me Biblical truth. . . but really, death stings. Jesus never denied it. In fact, the Bible clearly illustrates that Jesus too felt the sting of death as an onlooker. . .
Biblical recap. The Death of Lazarus.
Although there are layers upon layers I could touch on in this single story, there's one point I want to focus on. My God- the Creator of the Universe, our healer, our Savior, the King of Kings, and Prince of Peace- wept. Jesus, fully God and fully man, wept (John 11:35).
Jesus wept.
And as Jesus wept, the Jews who had come to mourn for Lazarus declared, "see how he (Jesus) loved him (Lazarus)."
Because Jesus loved Lazarus, our Savior wept.
I think its interesting to note that Jesus, being one with God and the Holy Spirit, already knew the final outcome of these events. Christ knew He would raise Lazarus from the dead. Furthermore, He already knew that in just a short time to follow these events He would be betrayed, beaten, nailed to a cross for dead, and on the third day resurrected. Christ knew that the enemy was going to be defeated. As He wept for Lazarus, He already knew that death would not hold Him down and that through His atoning sacrifice those who put their faith in Him would never be bound by death. Yes, Christ knew that He would forever do away with death's sting as He walked with Mary to the tomb of Lazarus.
Yet, it did not stop Him from weeping in front of the crowd that had gathered.
As I prepared a Bible study on this chapter in John a few years ago, I remember getting hung up on these two words- the shortest verse in the NIV translation. I just couldn't get over the fact that my God, the all-knowing and all-powerful, cried. Snotty nose, puffy and blood shot-eyes, moans and sob, Jesus probably looked as rough as I have looked over the last 24 hours. I kept saying out loud over and over again, "Can you believe it? Jesus wept!"
As I've walked through the sting of death and the never ending flood of salt water over the last 24 hours, I've thought through this scripture once again and pondered a point my pastor made not too long ago: We were never meant to experience death. Suffering was not in God's original plan but was a result of the fall of man.
Jesus wept because He loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus, and Jesus knew that the suffering we must endure on earth is not part of His Father's creation. As Christ witnessed the agony caused by death, I believe He was moved and His heart cried out, "This is not the way I meant for this to be!"
Fortunately, thanks to the resurrection of Jesus, this is not the way it will be forever. In the meantime, this middle of eternity's road where death still stings, I'm comforted knowing that God weeps over our suffering. I'm comforted knowing that He wants nothing more than to heal our broken hearts as we witness death and the pain of distorted creation. I'm comforted knowing that Jesus loves me, my sister Lesley, my family, and baby Ryder (John 11:5) enough to cry with us.
I have no doubt that, as Ryder passed into God's gentle hands and my sister screamed and cried on the living room floor, Jesus was weeping.
Praise God that death has lost the sting that resounds for eternity. Praise the Lord that death is not where the story ends.
Just as Lazarus was raised from the dead, I have no doubt that God will be glorified through the death of baby Ryder (I have to admit, as I held him for the first time, I prayed pretty intensely for a resurrection. In fact, I don't think I've every prayed so hard for something in my life.). I have no doubt (and pray with all my heart) that, like the onlookers who watched Lazarus return to life did so (John 11:45), those who have walked through this loss with our family will put their faith in Jesus Christ and for them death will forever lose its sting. And my tears of sorrow turn to tears of rejoicing because death, thanks be to God, is never in vain but always used for our redemption and His unfathomable glory.
Suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. Romans 5:3 And as my hope is in Him, I'm even more motivated to use my suffering to preach His healing grace. Take that death; take that.
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