My friend has cancer

My friend has cancer. It's not the worst kind. But neither is it "no big deal." It's a big deal. I've had friends who have had, or presently have, cancer. Some are now cancer free. Some succumbed to it. Almost everyone who reads this can say pretty much all that I've just said.

My friend told me about it through a message, but we haven't been able to meet face to face until recently. As I was driving to our lunch, I was praying for what to say, how to minister to him, how to help him. What I wanted to do, and what I was praying for, was to somehow be a rescuer, if even a little bit. I know I can't "fix" the problem or completely rescue him. But I wanted to be a junior rescuer in some way. Then I could feel better about my friend having cancer.

I also have cancer - cancer of the ego.

My friend doesn't need me to be his rescuer. He doesn't need me to somehow feel a little better about the situation. He doesn't need me to feel helpful. He doesn't need me to have the answers, to say the right thing, to have the right comforting words, or to make him smile. All of those things might be helpful (maybe!), but it's not what he needs.

What he needs is Jesus to be Jesus in every way. Whether he makes a full recovery or struggles with this for a while, or even (against the odds in this case) succumb to this, he doesn't need me to be or do anything rescue-y. He needs Jesus. And in this particular case, he has Jesus, and in a very strong way.

If he needs anything at all from me, it's brotherly love. Agape love, no matter what, in every circumstance, with or without the right words, with or without helping, with or without making anything better or easier, with or without me being comfortable. He needs Jesus' love, and in part, he needs it through me.

"Just love" sounds unhelpful, even weak. It is weak - I can't make it all better. But it's infinitely helpful.

Your friends don't have to have cancer to need Jesus' love through you.

There goes another one...

In our recent sermon on Colossians 3:3-4, we told the story of the imago Dei (the "image of God"). The quick run of the history is: the image was created Unspoiled, then it was Spoiled (but not destroyed) by sin, and therefore was Incapacitated to unspoil itself. Then in Christ, the perfect image was Incarnated, and then it was Hidden in the "new man" of all who believe, and it will be Revealed in them in perfect glory with Christ's return.

In the research that Jimmy Larkin has been doing in "lifestyle discipleship," he has been impressed by a number of writings that describe discipleship as the process of restoring that image within us, allowing more and more of that hidden image to be revealed now. The Complete Disciple by Ronald Habermas is entirely about this idea.

In a conference I attended last weekend about the church contributing to the Common Good in Kansas City, keynoted by Andy Crouch (http://www.culture-making.com/about/andy_crouch/), the image of God was a fundamental theme throughout the conference. Bearing God's image includes the God-reflecting activities creating and cultivating through our ministries, our work, and even the arts. The image of God is also what gives others value, making them worthy of our attention to invest in them, no matter what their station in life may be. We contribute to the Common Good by helping to restore that image in others.

Throughout the years, I've pondered the impact of being created in the imago Dei. It's what distinguishes us from the other living members of creation. It gives us a unique relationship with the Creator. It is something that everyone has, no matter what they do or what they believe. As rich as these explorations have been, I've never felt like that I've even come close to plumbing the depths of this incredible reality. But lately, I have been surrounded by people talking about it.

As we go forward with making discipleship an increasing part of the rhythm of Grace Fellowship's journey, we are going to explore the imago Dei more and more. I pray that we can discover new and significant truths about the image, truths that change our thinking, our ministry, our lives at home and at work, and our worship.

Everyone you talk to, meet, see, and buy groceries from bears the image of God. Every person you see, you can say, "There goes another one." And because it's God's image they bear, they are worthy of dignified respect, our love, and our attention.

Salmon Ladders

In Seattle, between the saltwater of Puget Sound and the fresh water of Lake Washington, are the Hiram M. Chittenden Locks (which locals call the "Ballard Locks"). Because the two bodies of water are at different levels, there is a series of locks between them for ships to pass through, and to keep salt and fresh waters in their places. However, this is also the path that salmon need to take in order to go upstream and spawn to thrive as a species. So, a "fish ladder" was constructed for the salmon to safely make the journey through the locks (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Hiram_M._Chittenden_Locks#Fish_ladder). For the fish ladder to work for salmon, the flow of water has to be rapid. The strength of the flow plus the smell of the fresh water it carries attract to the salmon to make their way up the ladder.


The engineers had to make the steps of the ladder just the right height - too shallow and flow is not rapid enough. Too steep, and the fish can't make the leap from step to step. It has to be just the right height. The result is that it's a hard leap to get from one level to the next. Through the observation window below the water level, you can watch the fish and see that they often have to rest up before making the next step. It takes several failed attempts before they successfully get to the next level.


Although I'm having trouble verifying this claim, when we toured the locks, we were told that the fish ladder also needed to have the steps be this difficult because if the ladder was too easy, the salmon would not build up enough strength for the rest of the journey and for the spawning. So, in order for them to thrive, this journey has to be difficult, marked with many failures. (As as the salmon can sniff out the fresh water, you can probably sniff out where I'm going with this by now.)

Our lives are filled with difficult challenges, where it can feel like we're going against the flow of life. There are seemingly impossible levels to climb, and we sometimes fail many times before we're able to get past the challenge. As as soon as we do, wham! There's another challenge waiting for us, daring us to fail. But what the challenges are providing for us is strength conditioning for the rest of the journey. In fact, it's the only way we can thrive. If the journey was too easy, we wouldn't have the strength to finish it.

We are a fallen race. Our great struggles are the discipline for our rebellion. But, by grace, these challenges exist, because they strengthen us and purify us. James 1:2-4 says, Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.

We often pray for life to be easier. But if God granted all those requests, He would be removing the very things that are designed to strengthen and purify us for our journeys. Rather than praying for an easier life, we should pray for a stronger, purer life. And then embrace challenges as God's answer to those prayers.

It's not that we invite difficulty. But if we really trust that God knows what He's doing, and that He's really in control, then we can trust what James tells us. God knows just the right height to make each of your challenges. May the fish ladders of your life make you strong and pure for the duration of the journey ahead of you.

I'm Too Busy for Easter

Christmas is always a crazy time, crammed full with parties, shopping, travel, cooking, and extra events with the church family. Some people jokingly dread Christmas - some have very real, debilitating anxiety over Christmas. The best part about New Year's Day is that it's a real day off without Christmas stuff to do. (Am I alone in finding an unsettling irony that a calendar holiday is more relaxing than a Christian holiday?)

Easter is not much better - gotta buy the eggs, gotta prepare the eggs, gotta hide the eggs, gotta help the kids find the eggs, gotta remember where the last three eggs are hidden so that they don't stink in a couple of weeks. This Easter has been particularly busy, with the odd weather and an illness in the family and taxes due right around the corner. Don't get me wrong - I love Easter and I'm a decent fan of Christmas. But my calendar and task list are wearing out.

I'm too busy for Easter! (And I'm a pastor!) I don't have time this week for it. I'd like to reschedule it, please.

That's exactly the problem: I'm too busy for Easter. Not that my stuff is more important than Easter, but that I haven't left room for that which is truly important. I have made choices that make my life too occupied, too crammed full, and too full of myself.  I have not created adequate space in my week for the most important holiday on the calendar. Worse than that, too often I have not created adequate space in my life for what this most important holiday means. I'm too busy for Easter and all that it embodies.

The beauty of Easter is how everything is centered on one, single truth. The one sacrifice by the one and only Son of God, once for all, calling on us to do but one thing in response. By grace through faith in just this one reality, I can be forgiven and have all the time that there will ever be in order to be with Him and to do His will. Compare this one thing to the hundreds of laws of religion, the millions of animals that have been sacrificed on altars, the myriads of demands that religiosity has placed on its captives. Just that one act by the One. Simple. Focused. Not too busy for anyone or anything.

My life should be about just this. I should never be too busy for Easter or for all that it means, because my entire life should always be all about it. Sure, I can do other things that are not directly tied to the substance of Easter, but my life should never be about those things. And especially, my life should not be so crammed full with them that I don't have time for Easter - the Easter holiday this week, the Easter event two millennia ago, or the Easter life to be lived in its 2000-year-long shadow.

I'm too busy for Easter. I should be too busy with Easter.

How Should I Read the Bible?

The Jewish and Christian Scriptures are thoroughly unique pieces of literature. Although we can find features found in other works, such as Ancient Near East treaties, Greek epistles, and Semitic poetry, the totality of the work is really quite unlike anything else that exists. Sixty-six books written by some 40 authors from different languages, geographies, and cultural settings, "collaborating" over 1500 years on a masterpiece that has a unified message, surviving all attempts to eradicate it.

So, how should I approach such literature? What an undertaking!

First, we always want to be aware of our genre, or literary style of writing. The Bible is not just one style of writing - there's narrative, poetry, prophecy, apocalyptic, legal, didactic (teaching), and sometimes a mix. It's important to know what basic style of literature you're reading in order to understand fully what you're reading.

For example, David says in Psalm 76:2 that God's "dwelling place" is in Zion. If this were narrative, then we would take that as a literal statement - God has an address, and it includes "Zion" and a zip code. But the psalms are poetry, which employs lots of figurative language. God's "dwelling" is not an address. Rather, this means that His attention, His people, His concern, His Word, and His activity are centered in Zion. Yes, His Shekinah glory dwells in the Holy of Holies, but David is not waxing poetic merely about God's address. He's poetically conveying something far more important.

Second, we want to be aware of our intentions. We need to know about the text we are reading, but we also need to know about the one doing the reading (namely, us). Am I wanting to learn history? Then that determines not only what parts to read, but what specifics to pay attention to. Do I want to learn facts or do I want to study the Christian worldview (a way of looking at all of life)? Do I want to be taught what is good or how to do something? Perhaps I turn to Scripture to find out the nature of something (such as sin or the human condition). Often, we turn to Scripture for something affective rather than academic - we want a reason to hope, we're looking for comfort in troubled times, we need assurance of God's reliable character, and so on. What we're looking for determines how and what to read.

But there's one more crucial reason to read Scripture, but it's harder to describe. Let me start with a couple of illustrations.

One of my brothers is an attorney, and he often would say something like, "You don't go to Law School to learn the law. You go to Law School to learn to think like an attorney." His point is that Law School is not about trying to digest all the facts about every law (although, there is certainly plenty of that going on!). Rather, the process of Law School over time trains the student to mentally process situations and facts in a very attorney-like way. An attorney reaches his goals through a different mental process than would an engineer or a songwriter.

When I was in undergraduate school, I took most of my electives out of the math department - I couldn't get enough. I knew a lot of students who spent a lot of time memorizing formulas and step-by-step methods. I was no good at memorizing, but I loved the theory, so I stayed with that. Instead of memorizing, I learned to think more like a mathematician. So, on an exam, in order to arrive at the answers, I was doing less recall and more processing the problem from a theoretical standpoint. I didn't memorize the proofs - I would re-prove them from theory during the exam, then use that to answer the question. I wasn't always among the first to finish, but I usually did pretty well.

That's one of the most important reasons to read Scripture, to read it daily, to read it both with a quick broad sweep and a slow, investigative dig: to learn to think as God thinks. More than a list of facts and commands to keep track of, if we can eventually just change the way we think, to think more the way God does, then we'll understand Him and His creation all the more. We won't have to remember what things to do and how to do them; rather, we'll just do right things because we've begun to think like God more.

We'll never be able to completely think as God does, of course. He's got a bit more on His mind than we can handle! But, we can certainly begin to think more and more as He does. The Bible, then, becomes a cognitive training tool, like Law School or the math department, changing how we think our way through life.

Home Run the Movie

In the software business, I got a lot of free shirts. I didn't realize how many until I left the business and suddenly had to start buying my own shirts again. In pastoral ministry, I don't get many free shirts, but I do get to screen some movies for free. Producers of family-friendly movies love to invite pastors to see the movie, provide their feedback, and then (hopefully) put in a good word for the movie with their congregations. It's business, sure, but it's also nice to hear from one's pastor that he's seen a particular movie and can recommend it.

Last week, I got to see Home Run (http://www.homerunthemovie.com/), opening April 19. Cory Brand is a professional baseball player struggling with alcoholism and unresolved issues from his childhood. A series of bad decisions forces him to spend some time away from the game, where he finally begins to face his problems.

The movie earned a PG-13 rating, primarily because it openly discusses a variety of struggles that adults face, in the context of a recovery group. The discussions are not gratuitous or salacious, but they are direct. For example, one person talks (non-graphically) about his addiction to internet porn, and another talks about being abused as a child. Parents should decide whether or not their children are ready for those topics to come up - please don't take your kids unless you are able to guide them in discussing the issues at a conceptual level.

The production quality of the movie is generally good. There was only one actor I felt was weak, and she simply overplayed her character (I get the impression she was a sweet person trying to play a sassy person). The child actors held their own, but were not stand outs. The rest of the cast was enjoyable to watch. The first third of the movie was a less than smooth in its storytelling, but the remainder of the movie flowed well, had good pace and rhythm, and kept me engaged. Some of the camera work extended beyond storytelling and allowed us to appreciate the sights and sounds. The movie will not garner any major movie awards, and because of its strong Christian theme, will likely receive open criticism.

The story centers on the Christian ministry called Celebrate Recovery, which helps people deal with all kinds of addictions and other recovery situations. In some ways, the movie was a commercial for the ministry, but because CR does good work, I don't mind. Unlike some recent Christian-themed movies, Home Run does not set any false expectations that once you put your faith in Christ, everything is going to work out in the end. The CR scenes are clear that Christians are not magically freed from their problems, but that Christ is our greatest hope in the midst of those problems.

The biggest critique I put in my comments for the screening is that the movie does not really address the Atonement (the work of Jesus on the Cross to satisfy God's wrath for our sin). Yes, the message is that Jesus can provide recovery for us, but that's not the main reason Jesus came. Leaving out the Atonement runs the risk of preaching a "therapeutic Gospel" - that Jesus came to make our lives better. Instead, Jesus came to make unworthy sinners fit for God's holy and loving presence forever.

I do recommend the movie with enthusiasm. I believe people struggling with addictions can identify with one or more characters, and will be challenged with the idea that Jesus and the community of believers can bring victory. I do hope that people join CR after seeing this. The movie can spark conversations with your friends and loved ones who may struggle (and it can challenge any of us who struggle). The story is good, is not entirely predictable, and engages your emotions. It's a rare combination of a "clean" movie that dives into mature topics with some measure of realism.

It doesn't have the full Gospel overtly presented so that the viewer is directly challenged with the claims of Christ, but it does rightly show that addictions and dysfunctions can be successfully addressed within the Christian community relying primarily on Jesus.

Check out the website, and even use the site to campaign to make sure it opens in our area. Go see it, bring friends and family, and use it as a springboard to talk about important issues. Plus, it's a baseball movie, so I automatically like it!

Comfy?

What stops us? We know we should get our sinful habits under control, but we hang onto them. We know we should be sharing the Good News more readily, but we avoid opportunities that are placed right in front of us. We know we should waste less time, spend less on entertainment, carve out more time for prayer and Bible study, and stop being a jerk at work. What stops us? (I'm not being too harsh - Paul wondered the same thing about himself in Romans 7.)

It's not just one thing - it's never just one thing. But there is one thing that is often one of the primarily culprits. Comfort. Not Comfort, really, but our pursuit of Comfort. We do nothing instead of something because we just want to relax and be comfortable. We don't share our faith when we see a clear opportunity to, because the situation might get ... heaven forbid ... uncomfortable. We spend money on pampering ourselves and less on impacting others for Jesus because pampery things are so comforting.

Comfort can become a god. It can be the altar we sacrifice everything in our lives for. It can determine how we spend a weekend, how we steward money, and how we treat others. Comfort can even dictate our church ministry, rather than the other way around. Comfort can call the shots and receive all our gifts and offerings. We even pray to God to make things more comfortable, often in lieu of asking Him to make things more righteous.

The god of Comfort is decimating the church in our society. We (the modern Western church) give less sacrificially, because we've moved from a sacrificial model of giving to a comfort-level model of giving - we give until just before it hurts. Fewer people are willing to sacrifice their careers in order to serve the church or the mission field. We've become timid with that which we should not be ashamed of. We boast about getting out of our "comfort zone" for as long as ... two whole hours! (It's sad how "comfort zone" is one of our most common phrases when talking about outreach - it shouldn't even be a second thought!)

Why? We know better. We see it in others and in ourselves. We don't like reading articles like this because we know it applies to us (it hurts to even write this!). Why? Because like the prodigal son, we want our inheritance NOW. God has promised us ultimate comfort in His Kingdom - with all joy, all glory, all access to God. More comfort and peace and satisfaction than we can imagine. Rather than trust Him that it's coming in full, we pursue it in part here and now - by avoiding things that make us uncomfortable to the detriment of the purpose of the Church.

Where's the line? Those who were called "ascetics" responded to this truth by intentionally creating a lifestyle of suffering - nothing comfortable allowed! But all they accomplished was throwing away the god of Comfort in favor of the god of Discomfort, who then started calling the shots and receiving the sacrifices.

Our Stewardship series is perhaps the best place to begin. The Master gave us all our resources, including time, and then left for an unspecified duration. He's coming back, and will ask us to render account for our stewardship. He will not ask, "Were you comfortable?" He will ask, "Were you faithful?" We fight the god of Comfort by worshiping and obeying the God of Everything, and surrendering all things, including Comfort, to Him in order to steward well all He has given us.

Do not let Comfort call the shots. Do not let Discomfort tell you you're more righteous than the Comfortites. Be a steward of comfort, making it obey your will, in total submission to the one true God.