Weeping while the world rejoices

I read a verse this morning that has just stuck with me and I can't shake it.  It describes so much of what goes on in our world.

Truly, truly, I say to you, you will weep and lament, but the world will rejoice.  You will be sorrowful but your sorrow will turn into joy. (John 16.20)

You think about the world around us.  You think about how it rejoices over things that should bring tears.  The World Politic is fodder for late night comedians instead of the cause of weeping (and, as Christians, are we laughing along with them?).  Offhand and off-color jokes get forwarded not just to email accounts, but through them.  Cultural norms and ethics crumble while the world throws a party.

In the midst of this, I'm challenged two ways:

1.  To stay sad - my mentor at seminary used to tell me to be shocked by nothing and saddened by everything.  That's a tough balance.  Losing sadness means I'm writing people off.  I don't want to be guilty of that.

2.  Don't rejoice with them - there are some things that are funny.  Jimmy Fallon is one of them.  There are other things that are not.  Either way, there ought to linger in the atmosphere of our souls the tinge of sadness that things aren't supposed to be this way.  To do otherwise is to misspend our joy.

And the true, real, lasting joy is coming:  "But your sorrow will turn into joy."

Cup of Cold Water and Sharing the Gospel

We just had a team on the ground in Bolivia ministering to orphans and the folks who run one of the orphanages there.  It got me to thinking about this verse:

And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward (Matt 10.42)

Did you get that?  There is a kind of ministry that is "Cup of Cold Water" ministry where hands get dirty and comfort zones get blown up.  It's mercy ministry.  It's Least-of-These ministry.  And there's not much glamor in it...though there are certain rewards.

I'm 100% for those kinds of opportunities.  I think they are tangible expressions of love that Jesus enjoys seeing His people give to others.

But I don't think it's enough.  Ever.

That's because faith comes by hearing the Word of God (Rom 10.17).  Some argue that "hearing" is figurative in that verse, but I don't think the context allows for that.  The passage speaks of someone being sent to preach so people can hear and call on the name of the Lord to be saved (v.13-16).

Good works are exactly that:  good things we get to work at.  And often it opens the door to have a genuine conversation about why we're doing what we're doing.  But it's no substitute for the message because the kind of faith that calls out to God resulting in salvation comes from people like you and me sharing the Gospel with others around us.

So how does that apply to you today?

We Found Love Right Where we are

I'm taking a marriage and family class for my doctoral work and something hit me the other day, triggered by a song, and I thought I'd take just a second and comment.

There's an old Johnny Lee song that talks about looking for love in all the wrong places.  When marriage gets tough, there's a temptation to go looking for love in some terribly wrong places.  See if these sound familiar to you or a *ahem* friend you know...

Pornography - the trade of a 3-D living, human being for some 2-D fantasy.  And while it's devastatingly rampant among men, women are now in its clutches as well.  Fifty Shades of Gray, anyone?  And in case you think it's outside the church, 34% of churchgoing women admit to intentionally visiting a porn site in the past month (that's 1 of 3, in case your math is bad).

People - here the trade is for a real person, somehow believing that the grass is greener on their side of the fence.  It can take many forms, including emotional attachment and the fantasy of "I wish I had that person as my spouse."  That, of course, leads to physical detachment from the spouse and opens the door for all sorts of bad.

Coexistence - the trade of relationship for shared space.  This feels like roommates rather than love.  Habits grate on nerves, inconsiderate actions or words are expected and don't cause wounds anymore, and two different agendas and itineraries determine activities.  As a pastor, I've seen some empty-nesters struggle with this.

None of these "wrong places" have to be as dire as I described them.  But they point to the same problem:  you don't fall in and out of love.  You choose to love or not to love.  The same choice has to be made in every relationship.  Do I love or not love?  We are under a western, romantic notion that love is some crazy emotion.  I'm all for the emotion when it's there - that makes the choice that much easier.  But when it's not, it's still a choice to love or not love.

Ed Sheeran has a song out right now that points to this.  It's a solid song - the kind that will want you to grab your honey and dance, then kiss her on the lips like you haven't done so in a while.  The closing lyric of the chorus is an important one:  we found love right where we are.

Where else will you find love except right where you are?  It's a choice.  It's in your marriage or in your relationship with your child or loved one that you find love.

One Year Ago...

It's Gotcha Day, which in the adoption community is a huge deal.  It's the day we received the Minion into our family.

One year ago today, this...

And what a year it's been.  What. A. Year.

Happy Gotcha Day, Maggie Mei.  Our life hasn't been the same.

8 Years and 8 Lessons

Today, I roll 8 years of ministry at Heritage Park, which just so happens to be the greatest church on planet earth.

It's a time of reflection, so here are 8 lessons learned along the way.

First, the whole darn thing is really - no, I mean really - not about me.  Not even a little bit.  The moment I equate the needs of my ego with the Kingdom's agenda, I'm off the rails already.  There's a particular danger I face (and if you are a pastor or have one, he does too) because the Enemy loves to let the accolades turn into ambition which turns into an agenda.  And since I'm the pastor and doing the Lord's work, that agenda MUST be holy and right and good...right?  The aspiration to be a pastor (1 Timothy 3.1) is not the same as the ambition of an agenda.  The one has "Spirit" as a root.  Enough said.

Second, preaching regularly is the hardest and most rewarding calling on the planet, but no one will remember too much of what you've said.  It took me about 4 years of preaching as the pastor of Heritage Park before I slept on Saturday nights with any soundness.  That wasn't because I hadn't preached a lot beforehand.  I had.  It was the weight of being the pastor and speaking to God's people on His behalf.  Who is sufficient for these things? (2 Cor. 2.16)

Third, the church is both organization and organism, both Trellis and Vine.  I like working on the Vine but the Trellis needs attention too.  And frankly, I'm not the best organization / administration / leadership guy.  I have a friend who lives two years ahead in his organizational thinking.  My sense of things from the Spirit is that is why his church is larger.  I'm genuinely not jealous.  I just don't know that I have the leadership capacity for that.  Which leads to...

Fourth, if you find a weak spot, it's worth working to improve it.  I have so many I won't enumerate them.  But I'll give you an example.  I have always struggled with Evangelistic Preaching, the kind of preaching that lays out the Gospel and invites people to follow Christ.  This past year, I took a class in my doctoral program called Evangelistic Preaching.  One particular chapter of one particular book was worth the price of the class in terms of my comfort level with that task now.  I know guys who either reassign their weaknesses or hire to compensate.  I'm not saying that's always bad, but I also know that improvement is a good avenue.

Fifth, the greatest compliment I've been paid as a pastor of this people is not that I'm a good preacher but that I am a good preacher who genuinely loves my people.  That happened two weeks ago.  I want to be a good preacher-teacher-communicator.  But they won't know I'm a Christian by my preaching.  It's love (John 13.34-35).

Sixth, living the trials I'm enduring in a public manner encourages people who are going through trials of their own.  We have seen this with the adoptions our family has pursued.  The waiting for Peanut (publicly) and dealing with the Minion's sickness (publicly) has borne fruit in our church family.  I'm not sure it's for everyone.  And I know that some use trials as an attention-getter.  But they can be beneficial.  If you want to see someone who did that incredibly well, look at Matt and Lauren Chandler when they went through Matt's cancer.  Well done.

As a corollary to #6, when we focus on church health good things happen.  The trials we went through in 2014 showed just how healthy our church was.  I couldn't be prouder.  Could. Not. Be. Prouder.

Seventh, our staff works like a basketball team and that makes for a terrific environment.  We implemented two rules when I started:  we'd always be honest with one another and we'd always talk to one another before talking about one another.  Each person plays a role and it works very very very well.  Our strengths play off of one another, and there's absolutely no gift to a leader like a loyal #2.

Eighth, there is no way I'm any good at any of this without my wife.  I cannot say enough.  And what I might would be a paltry portrait of the reality.  She. Is. Amazing.

Bodyguards and Trusting God

Ezra and a group of exiles were returning from Babylon to the land of Israel.  By a powerful move of God on the heart of a king (whose heart is in the hand of God anyway - Prov. 21.1), they are going back with resources and a mandate from the king to rebuild the temple.

But they had to make the journey.  Depending on the source you consult, it's a 900-mile journey that could take 3-4 months.  It was a long way and it was fraught with peril.  Normally, a group with the commission of the king would get to travel with bodyguards or soldiers.

But not them.

Some people read this next passage with an improper and misaligned focus on the word ashamed.  I think when it says "ashamed," it's talking about a spiritual lack of trust in horses and chariots (Ps. 20.7) but proper focus and faith in God.  Here's the passage:

Then we proclaimed a fast there, at the river Ahava, that we might humble ourselves before our God, to seek from Him a safe journey for ourselves, our children, and all our goods.  For I was ashamed to ask the king for a band of soldiers and horsemen to protect us against the enemy while on our way, since we had told the king, "The hand of our God is for good on all who seek Him, and the power of His wrath is against all who forsake Him." (Ezra 8.21-22)

I think they were willing to take the risk to show how capable God is and how powerful He really is.  I think the shame would've been in trusting in horses and chariots.

This isn't against common sense.  It isn't against being grateful for and using the common graces of doctors, police, and whomever else God grants.  It's a case of having them in the right perspective and depending on God in a way that He will get the most glory for it.

That land anywhere on you today?

But that's just me thinking thoughts...

On the Fear of the Lord and Ming Vases

Tim Keller, pastor of Redeemer Presbyterian in New York City, recently released a book on prayer.  In the book he outlays a perfect illustration of how to approach God with fear, particularly in your prayer life.

Imagine yourself holding a priceless Ming vase (you know...vase like "vaahs" instead of vase like base).  You might tremble in its presence.  You will be fearful.  But it won't be because the vase will suddenly reach out and strike you.  It won't recall all your previous failed attempts at holding vases.

You will be fearful, scared, even trembling because of the value of the vase.  You will be fearful, scared, even trembling because you're scared you'd hurt it.  Drop it and your klutziness gets you on CNN!

So it is with the fear of the Lord.  We, as Christians, don't have to be scared that He will hurt us.  Jesus has taken away the reason He would be angry (our sin) and has purchased for us His favor through His own righteousness.

In an important way, we can't hurt God.  Every illustration breaks down somewhere.  But we can "hurt" God by our actions, attitudes toward others, unforgiveness, etc.  And when we pray we are in the presence of the Value of values.  So the fear of not being and doing what is appropriate in the presence of Someone like that prompts us toward obedience.

For me, that's a really helpful picture of the Fear of the Lord.  Hope it spurs your prayers today.

But that's just me thinking thoughts...

Objective Measures, Part Deux

Yesterday I argued that there are a couple of objective measures in the spiritual life that help us determine how we're really doing.  One is the keeping track of our treasure (whatever form it might be, but especially and uniquely our spending) to determine the state of our hearts.  In my particular ministry context of suburbia, it's a good one to keep handy and steadily employed.

The second is how we deal with trials.  Peter talks about trials as walking through fire, being refined as you go.  There are multiple other images to go with that, but here's the essence of it:  how we respond when trials come is an objective measure of the state of our spiritual lives, of our hearts.

If we respond with griping, we are probably struggling with entitlement.

If we respond with multiple Facebook posts about how hard our lives are, we are worshiping the idol of attention.

If we respond with withdrawal, we are living with and in anger - at God, at ourselves, at our spouse, at our kids, etc.

If we respond with blame, we are either unwilling to accept our part (whatever it might be, big or small) or we are struggling with the victim mentality.

If we respond with joy, then our hearts are in pretty good shape.  So Paul (Romans 5) and James (James 1) both command us to rejoice in our trials.  And if that's what comes out of our hearts when trials come, we're in good shape.  

No, it may not come at first.  The Lord knows I'm prone to griping and withdrawing.  But an objective measure of the state of your heart is whether joy is present in trial.  It's never because of the trial itself.  It's always because of what the trial is working in us, uniquely the transformation of our hearts.

Treasure and Trials.  Two gifts (though not always wanted) to help us self-diagnose our hearts.  Strange gifts.  But good ones.

But that's just me thinking thoughts...

Baylor Football, Objective Measures, and So Forth

On New Year's Day, I was sorely disappointed to watch my Baylor Bears blow a three-score lead in the fourth quarter of the Cotton Bowl.  But if you're "America's #1 Offense" and can't put any points on the board in the 4th quarter, I'm not sure you deserve to win a bowl game.

What it told me is that although Baylor is a very very good football program, one of the most exciting in the nation to watch, we're not quite top-tier...yet.

Bowl games (in that sense) are a good, objective measure of the entirety of the football program.  It puts appropriate stress on coaches, players, logistics, fan base, and so on.  When you're not quite ready for the big-time, it shows.  It's an objective measure.

There are a couple of objective measures in our spiritual life, though admittedly they're not as exciting as a bowl game and there's no national television coverage.

Jesus said it this way:  "Where your treasure is, there your heart will be also."  If you want to know the status of your heart, look and see where your treasure is.  Treasure, in this sense, is most easily and significantly monetary resources.  But it can be expanded to anything you count as a resource:  time, relational capital, unique abilities, and so forth.  The heart is the inmost part of our selves, the part Jesus lovingly lays siege to, captures, and ultimately conquers so that He can renovate it to His liking.

In an important way, that's a real gift.  It allows us to really see what the status of our spiritual life is, not what we think it is or hope it might be.  Where our treasure is, there our heart will be too.

But that also works the other way:  if we learn to redirect our treasure, our heart can come into line.  Our priorities determine our passions, not vice versa.

So here at the outset of 2015 with all our resolutions and diets and regimes anew, I hope we all take a moment and take stock, objectively, of the state of our hearts.  I hope we clear some path for our priorities to be realigned as necessary so that when 2016 rolls around the state of our heart is better off than it was today.

Priorities determine passions.  That's objectively true.

But that's just me thinking thoughts...

Goodbye 2014 - You Won't Be Missed

According to the date of the most recent post, it's been about 2.5 months since I last tried to say something that you might benefit from reading.  It has felt that long too.  There was some much needed recouping and regrouping to do after such a year.

Goodbye 2014.  You won't be missed.

Instead, I'm going to look forward to this coming year.  I won't let the struggles of the past become my identity of the present, knowing there are Stockholm Syndrome-like dangers of becoming the person who doesn't know how to live apart from the pain and the past.  Telling the story of 2014, we hope, will spread God's name far and wide.  But I don't want to live with my identity in our struggle but in our Savior (the Queen gets all the credit for boiling that down to its core).  May it be true for all who encountered life-shaping struggles in this past year.

I look forward to fighting for the things that matter:  belief in God's goodness and His sovereignty as really real and truly true, the transformation of my own heart before I seek it in others, the fidelity and mutuality of marriage to an amazing woman who devastates me, the hearts of kids who apparently are eating Miracle-Gro, conversations that are not mediated by a device, a neighborhood full of people who need Good News and a Friend to Sinners, a world full of brokenness that I can do something about, a church who deserves a better pastor, and a prayer life that enjoys the conversation more than the results of it.

I look forward to more time in God's Word without weaponizing it to make sure I get my way.  Had that happen.  It feels worse than a flu screen (also happened).  Both are painful and awkward.  I'm confident I've done that before.  Somehow being on the receiving end reminds me all the more and makes me more acutely aware how precious the words are and how they can perform as a two-edged sword to do His work without my help or hijacking of His agenda.

Goodbye 2014.  You won't be missed.  Here's to 2015, whatever it holds.  And to Him who holds it.