Brandon C. Jones's Blog, page 8
April 9, 2015
Death Itself: At the Movie about Roger Ebert
Besides the movie Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, the syndicated show Siskel and Ebert At the Movies made me want to visit Chicago more than anything else. My first taste of the city was a high school graduation road trip. My friend and I drove all night from Kansas City and arrived at Grant Park around four in the morning as bits of Lake Michigan were misting everywhere. We couldn’t even see the Sears Tower until the afternoon. The Chicago Bulls were set to host a victory parade in the park later that day, but I didn’t care. I wanted to go up and down Michigan Ave., State St., the Art Institute, and catch a Cubs game. Sadly, I did all of those things and more while wearing bright green sweatpants. Have I ever mentioned I never dated anyone in high school? Kansas City had great sportswriters back then, including Posnanski and Whitlock, but Chicago had Siskel and Ebert. I enjoyed watching Siskel and Ebert more than movies. It was so different to see two people with faces for the radio furiously spend 22 minutes each week trying with all their might to get the other guy to admit he was wrong. As Homer Simpson remarked, we all watched Siskel and Ebert to see “the bald guy argue with the fat guy.” Later in life I discovered Ebert was a far better writer than he ever was a television personality. Just last year I picked up A Kiss Is Still A Kiss at a used bookstore. His essay in there about John Belushi is so deeply personal, that it was clearly written by an insider who knew the demons of addiction. Ebert didn’t make public his addiction to alcohol until years later. But his passion for the movies revealed a man in touch with the demons housed inside all of us, a man attuned to life itself.
Life Itself is the title of Ebert’s autobiography and now documentary about his life. I watched it earlier this week on Netflix. Most of the movie focuses on Ebert’s career as a critic and rightly so. The movie also introduces us to Ebert the man, but it is just that: an introduction. One’s own life is puzzling enough, and Ebert’s life remains a mystery to me, although we share similar tastes in music, nature, used book stores, and diners that serve hearty breakfasts. I find his life mysterious not because he teetered between wanting to die and wanting to live, even before he got cancer. I could relate to that. It’s not even because he had extreme lows, solid highs, and delved joyfully into a new aspect of himself by getting married. All of that is familiar too. What left me confused is something more basic than the typical documentary arc of a modest upbringing, hard work, tough trials, and treasured relationships.
In caring for someone pastorally there are three big questions: What meaning have they made of this event in their life? What gets them out of bed each morning? What are their hopes for the future? After watching Life Itself I still have little idea how he would answer such questions, perhaps the book reveals more. He loved the arts of cinema and writing enough to invest in them. He also loved his family and friends. So far so good. He grew up Roman Catholic, and in the documentary religion comes up twice: once when he had an outtake with Siskel as they used their backgrounds (Siskel was Jewish) to take barbs at each other and at Protestants in general. The other was when his wife was helping him clear out of a hospital room. She held up a Gideon’s Bible and said something like, “This can’t be yours, right? We won’t be needing this.” He shook his head no, and off they went. Weeks later, off he went into death. He remarked in the movie that death was a natural part of life. He even looked forward to the dying process, instead of dying quickly or suffering some trauma early in his life.
After the movie ended I wondered if I would feel the same way about death if I also felt the same way about the Bible as did Ebert. In other words, is it only because of what God reveals about death that I consider it an enemy to be conquered instead of a natural part of our existence that we should reluctantly embrace? Ebert’s tenacity through death’s door and his optimism despite so many physical setbacks were admirable, but I still cringed every time I saw him without a jaw. Disease and death are unwelcome intrusions onto life itself, and I’d like to think that I would still feel that way even if I never picked up a Bible in my lifetime. I guess I’ll never know. Watching Ebert go through life without a jaw, without being able to eat, drink, or talk, reinforced how scared I am to age and to die. As a pastor I’ve seen what disease and death are capable of time and again. I’d like to say I don’t fear death because of the gospel of Christ. It is a defeated enemy, but an enemy nonetheless. I would never want to settle with this ugly enemy by embracing it as a normal part of our existence.
Ebert’s documentary should be called Death Itself. In his last days he ensured that he had a slick website to house his writing for posterity, so he will be remembered in cyberspace for years to come. But what does that all mean? The book of Ecclesiastes, contained within the pages of a Bible that so many people think they do not need, gives a resounding answer: without God, it doesn't mean much.
April 2, 2015
Christians in the Public Square on Holy Week
For most Christians across the world this week is known as Holy Week, commemorating the seven days leading up to Easter Sunday. If we are interested in following Jesus’ example in the public square, the events of this week reveal much. Here’s what happened:
On Sunday Jesus enters Jerusalem as part of an ad hoc parade that honors him.
On Monday Jesus cleanses the Jerusalem Temple of its money-changers.
On Tuesday Jesus curses a fig tree that wasn’t bearing any fruit.
On Wednesday Jesus answers a lot of questions at the Temple about its future, God’s coming kingdom, and the hypocrisy of religious leaders. That night one of Jesus’ closest followers secretly meets with those same leaders to negotiate a price for Jesus to be handed over to their guards.
On Thursday Jesus meets with his closest followers to observe the Passover, washing their feet first and then predicting his betrayal and death. That night guards came to seize him while he was at prayer. He is put on trial by the religious leaders and found guilty of blasphemy.
On Friday a crowd hands Jesus over to the Roman authorities, demanding he be executed. The authorities question him, beat him, mock him, and, despite finding him innocent of a crime, sentence him to death by crucifixion to go along with the crowd’s wishes. He dies before sunset and his body is buried by nightfall.
On Saturday the religious leaders request that the Roman authorities allow Jesus’ tomb be sealed and guarded, just in case one of his followers attempts to steal his corpse to pretend he came back to life.
If our behavior in the public square has anything to do with Jesus himself and not just a more basic theistic worldview, then consider the following things about Jesus’ last days before his death and resurrection:
Jesus Spoke Up Among God’s People
Jesus was upset at the practices at the Temple and did something about it, announcing what was wrong with it. He also freely answered questions and called out people whose behavior did not align with their claim to be God’s people. He was not shy and even defended himself when put on trial by the religious leaders.
Jesus Refused Violence
Peter tried to fight the religious leader’s guards with a sword, but Jesus rebuked him and even undid Peter’s damage—a chopped off ear. Jesus reminds Pilate, the chief Roman authority in Jerusalem, that God’s power and kingdom have little to do with the power of this world, including its violence.
Jesus Took on Consequences
Read those events again. The religious leaders had been plotting to kill Jesus for some time before Judas helped them out. His own followers were hoping for a glorious overthrowing of Rome, and instead when Jesus was given his hearing before the power of Rome he said little and did nothing to alter what was happening to him.
Jesus in the Public Square
In America our public square has altered drastically in only a few short years and its angry crowds never seem satisfied. The temptation is to fight back with any and all means. Boycott our opponents, overcompensate for being humiliated, cheer for the tables to turn, become obsessed with “winning” (whatever that looks like), and so on. But what if instead we followed Jesus’ example from Holy Week? We could speak up among God’s people, reject all forms of violence for our cause, including the use of violent threats, and be willing to take on the consequences of being God’s people in a fallen world. Our witness will be most noticeable in the public square, especially if we continue to proclaim good news of a better kingdom, full of truth, love, grace, and forgiveness.
Decades ago some American Christians sought the world’s approval by denying Christ’s bodily resurrection from the dead. The world set those terms and conditions for Christianity by deeming such basic Christian doctrines strongly irrational in modern times. In our post-modern times there are brand new terms and conditions for Christians to affirm unless they want the world to label them as strongly irrational, or worse. After enough Christians agree to those terms, and many already have, the world will come up with a new set of terms, and so on. When will God’s people stop chasing after the world's love? Christ never promised it to us. Instead, he said the world would hate us. It hated him. He also said he is greater than the world, and he showed how during the events of Holy Week. Our Lamb has conquered, him let us follow!
On Sunday Jesus enters Jerusalem as part of an ad hoc parade that honors him.
On Monday Jesus cleanses the Jerusalem Temple of its money-changers.
On Tuesday Jesus curses a fig tree that wasn’t bearing any fruit.
On Wednesday Jesus answers a lot of questions at the Temple about its future, God’s coming kingdom, and the hypocrisy of religious leaders. That night one of Jesus’ closest followers secretly meets with those same leaders to negotiate a price for Jesus to be handed over to their guards.
On Thursday Jesus meets with his closest followers to observe the Passover, washing their feet first and then predicting his betrayal and death. That night guards came to seize him while he was at prayer. He is put on trial by the religious leaders and found guilty of blasphemy.
On Friday a crowd hands Jesus over to the Roman authorities, demanding he be executed. The authorities question him, beat him, mock him, and, despite finding him innocent of a crime, sentence him to death by crucifixion to go along with the crowd’s wishes. He dies before sunset and his body is buried by nightfall.
On Saturday the religious leaders request that the Roman authorities allow Jesus’ tomb be sealed and guarded, just in case one of his followers attempts to steal his corpse to pretend he came back to life.
If our behavior in the public square has anything to do with Jesus himself and not just a more basic theistic worldview, then consider the following things about Jesus’ last days before his death and resurrection:
Jesus Spoke Up Among God’s People
Jesus was upset at the practices at the Temple and did something about it, announcing what was wrong with it. He also freely answered questions and called out people whose behavior did not align with their claim to be God’s people. He was not shy and even defended himself when put on trial by the religious leaders.
Jesus Refused Violence
Peter tried to fight the religious leader’s guards with a sword, but Jesus rebuked him and even undid Peter’s damage—a chopped off ear. Jesus reminds Pilate, the chief Roman authority in Jerusalem, that God’s power and kingdom have little to do with the power of this world, including its violence.
Jesus Took on Consequences
Read those events again. The religious leaders had been plotting to kill Jesus for some time before Judas helped them out. His own followers were hoping for a glorious overthrowing of Rome, and instead when Jesus was given his hearing before the power of Rome he said little and did nothing to alter what was happening to him.
Jesus in the Public Square
In America our public square has altered drastically in only a few short years and its angry crowds never seem satisfied. The temptation is to fight back with any and all means. Boycott our opponents, overcompensate for being humiliated, cheer for the tables to turn, become obsessed with “winning” (whatever that looks like), and so on. But what if instead we followed Jesus’ example from Holy Week? We could speak up among God’s people, reject all forms of violence for our cause, including the use of violent threats, and be willing to take on the consequences of being God’s people in a fallen world. Our witness will be most noticeable in the public square, especially if we continue to proclaim good news of a better kingdom, full of truth, love, grace, and forgiveness.
Decades ago some American Christians sought the world’s approval by denying Christ’s bodily resurrection from the dead. The world set those terms and conditions for Christianity by deeming such basic Christian doctrines strongly irrational in modern times. In our post-modern times there are brand new terms and conditions for Christians to affirm unless they want the world to label them as strongly irrational, or worse. After enough Christians agree to those terms, and many already have, the world will come up with a new set of terms, and so on. When will God’s people stop chasing after the world's love? Christ never promised it to us. Instead, he said the world would hate us. It hated him. He also said he is greater than the world, and he showed how during the events of Holy Week. Our Lamb has conquered, him let us follow!
March 26, 2015
A Mighty Wind
First-year students of the biblical languages can tell you that Hebrew and Greek use the same word in their languages for both “wind” and “spirit.” When the Spirit came down on Jesus’ Apostles at Pentecost everyone heard something like the blowing of a mighty wind. The first man’s body was made out of dust, lying still until God breathed in him the breath of life: spirit. God took the prophet Ezekiel to a valley of skeletons and told him to command the wind to fill them with flesh and breath once more. Where there is breath, there is life. Where there is wind, there is spirit. Where there is Spirit, there is God.
This week has been a windy one on the northern plains of the Dakotas. The land is mostly flat and buildings and trees here are scarce. Not much can block the winds when they do come. And boy do they come. They howl and whistle all day and all night. They pick up leaves that were recently thawed from the snow cover of winter. They cause the trees, few of them there are, to clap their hands.
Just as water is a reminder of new birth and bread and wine a reminder of new kingdom, a mighty wind is a reminder of God’s life-giving spirit, blowing wherever it wills. Jesus says we cannot see the wind, only its effects. On some days the wind demands our notice.
God does that too, especially if we’re sleepwalking through our days as if God is powerless. On windy days I’m reminded that I’m a light brown leaf, lifted up and tossed about with ease by God’s mighty wind. The direction I’m going may not seem to have a purpose to me all the time, but wind has a purpose all its own. Or as Jesus puts it, the wind blows wherever it pleases.
What a blessing that it has been pleased to blow within me and within us as Christ’s church. I pray we will howl, lift up, carry, and inject life to the point that our communities will notice.
This week has been a windy one on the northern plains of the Dakotas. The land is mostly flat and buildings and trees here are scarce. Not much can block the winds when they do come. And boy do they come. They howl and whistle all day and all night. They pick up leaves that were recently thawed from the snow cover of winter. They cause the trees, few of them there are, to clap their hands.
Just as water is a reminder of new birth and bread and wine a reminder of new kingdom, a mighty wind is a reminder of God’s life-giving spirit, blowing wherever it wills. Jesus says we cannot see the wind, only its effects. On some days the wind demands our notice.
God does that too, especially if we’re sleepwalking through our days as if God is powerless. On windy days I’m reminded that I’m a light brown leaf, lifted up and tossed about with ease by God’s mighty wind. The direction I’m going may not seem to have a purpose to me all the time, but wind has a purpose all its own. Or as Jesus puts it, the wind blows wherever it pleases.
What a blessing that it has been pleased to blow within me and within us as Christ’s church. I pray we will howl, lift up, carry, and inject life to the point that our communities will notice.
March 19, 2015
On March Madness: A Jones Tradition
It infuriates my mother that I don’t recall much about my childhood. I tell her I don’t forget on purpose, but for whatever reason things are fuzzy and blurry when I think hard about what life was like growing up. I remember time spent with my grandparents. I remember some parts of preschool. I remember big days at elementary school, which were basically the parties and field day. I remember going to Disney World, kind of. I remember church camp and Sunday School. But, much to my mother’s dismay, I seem to remember sports the most.I played some sports, mostly soccer, but I’ve been a sports fan since I was a kid. Our neighbors went to the World Series in 1985 and brought me back a program. We’d usually spend New Year’s Day at my grandparents’ house, and I remember betting on the bowls with my grandma. I don’t think she ever made me pay up, though.
Throughout the years the best team I’ve rooted for is the Kansas Jayhawks. The inventor of basketball, James Naismith, was their first coach, and he has the worst record among all their coaches. One of their best coaches, Phog Allen, learned personally from Naismith. Adolph Rupp and Dean Smith, who built programs in Kentucky and North Carolina respectively, grew up in Kansas and played for the Jayhawks. My favorite stadium/arena is the Allen Fieldhouse in Lawrence, Kansas. During the past 11 seasons the Jayhawks have won 11 conference championships, but only lost 9 games at home.
The Jayhawks have competed in the NCAA championship tournament every year since 1989. During that stretch they’ve almost always won their first tournament game, even if Mizzou fans seem only to remember the two opening-round losses that have happened in my lifetime. The Jayhawks have been to several final fours, and they would have more championships to their name had they performed better in the final game. Over the years, the Jayhawks have lost three championship games by a combined five points.
In Kansas City spring break would take place during the basketball tournament. Each year my parents and I would fill out a bracket, although I think my Dad cheated by filling his out late on Thursday after a handful of games were finished. My favorite two days a year in sports are the first two days of the tournament, because of the upsets and close calls. I remember rooting for the Richmond Spiders during lunch from my parents’ living room. I was helping my Dad work on a car in the garage late at night and listening to the radio as Santa Clara beat the mighty Arizona Wildcats. Of course, I hate it when the Jayhawks get upset.
One year in high school I picked all the final four teams, which included Kansas. I always have to put Kansas in my final four. I know they usually won’t make it. When I was dating my future wife, Marci, I had her fill out a bracket. She'd not known about the tournament and had never filled out a bracket before. She did things like pick a 16 seed to win and put Georgia Tech in her final four because her bestest friend is from Savannah. That year was the only time I've seen the Jayhawks in person compete in the tournament. I took Marci to St. Louis to see the Jayhawks face Georgia Tech, with the winner going to the final four. Marci rooted in person for the Jayhawks, and the Jayhawks forced overtime. But then they lost. Those Savannah ties run pretty deep.
My best two memories, though, were in 1988 and 2008 when Kansas won it all. They weren’t supposed to win in 1988, but Danny Manning took the team on his back as they won in Kansas City over familiar foe Oklahoma. My Mom took my sister and I to the mall to get T-shirts before the big game. 2008 was a little different. They had a close game against Stephen Curry’s Davidson to go to the final four. That year all four #1 seeds made it to the final four, which is the only time in history that has happened. Kansas beat Ohio State to match up with Memphis in the final game. Memphis had Derrick Rose, and their team played outstanding for about 37 minutes, carrying an 8-point lead. As Memphis missed free throws, Kansas made shots, got turnovers, and tied it up with a last-second three. In overtime, Kansas pulled away for the title. I lived in Michigan at the time, so nobody cared. I walked around the campus of Calvin College and Seminary wearing my Jayhawk gear with pride. No one said anything about it, except for my doctoral supervisor who was a Marquette fan. My Mom mailed me a T-shirt.
I suppose that’s how life goes. Where I live now the only gear people wear is for high school stuff. Some people like the Vikings and Broncos. Fewer people like the Twins. If anyone likes college sports, they keep it to themselves. March isn’t very mad in South Dakota. My kids don’t even get a spring break, but there usually isn’t a spring either.
Despite what’s going on outside, it will be madness in the Jones house. I’ve got my brackets printed. The kids have made their picks. I have my television set, and I’ll root for my Jayhawks. I even picked them to go to the final four this year.
March 12, 2015
God's Voice, My Voice, and My Tears: Why I can't seem to read the passion stories out loud without crying.
Before becoming a pastor I hardly read Scripture out loud, and without knowing it I neglected a way for God to speak afresh through his Word. For most of the church’s history, and Israel’s before it, God spoke through his Word read out loud. Few people owned copies of the Holy Scriptures and not many people could have read them anyway. Most human authors of the Bible wrote with a literal audience in mind. The Bible was designed to be heard, not just read.
In ancient times most people would read out loud, even when they were alone. Augustine shares in his Confessions that he found one of his former pastors, Ambrose, to be odd because he read silently to himself. Perhaps Ambrose found other people reading out loud annoying. I know I do sometimes. But when I rehearse for our church’s Sunday worship service, I read both our Scripture reading text and sermon text out loud. And I find that my ears are often attuned to different aspects of God’s speech than my eyes are. I also find God’s words to be more powerful as I read them aloud, especially in front of others.
2015 marks the fourth time I will be a pastor during Lent and Eastertide. Our church has a tradition of Good Friday services, and when I have a hand in planning them I focus much on the public reading of the passion texts. I usually do not include a sermon on top of them. These past few years whenever I read the passion texts of Jesus’ final days I end up crying. Tears well up in my eyes. I take deeper breaths. I purposely include longer pauses, sometimes in awkward places, just so I can gather myself a little and force the words on the page out of my mouth. Of all the challenges I face in serving as a pastor, few are more difficult than this annual occurrence. I feel out of control during those moments, but I’m never embarrassed about it. I’d be more worried if I could coolly read Jesus’ passion stories out loud as if I were reciting a newspaper article on the opening of a new cheese factory in our county.
Our evening prayer service last week accidentally became a preview for Good Friday. I had crafted a handout for our group to pray through, which was simple enough. We had one person read aloud a passage from the Gospels on Jesus’ last day before his death and then a space on the page for us to write a personal prayer using a prompt from the text. There were six passages in all, and I volunteered to read Mark 15:22-34, which talks about Jesus’ crucifixion. Whoops. Tears welled up in my eyes. I took long, deep breaths. I paused often, sometimes after a couple words. Eventually, all the tears started strolling down my cheeks. I should’ve known all of that would happen, but I forgot.
That night our final prayer was to write about our experience of reading all the passages together, walking from Jesus' garden prayer to his corpse’s burial in a new tomb. As I wrote, I reflected on why reading these texts out loud always makes me cry. Whenever I read them silently to myself it’s never the same. It’s always…easier. To my delight and dread my written prayer gave the answer. The Gospels report not only Jesus’ actions and words, but the behavior of others as well. When I read the Gospels out loud I hear my voice say things such as “crucify him” or “save yourself.” I hear with my own voice Peter’s cowardly betrayal, Pilate’s spineless politicking, the crowd’s thirst for blood, the soldiers’ mockery, and the shocking grief of Jesus’ mother and a mere handful of supporters at the time of his death. I also hear in my own voice Jesus’ groans from the cross, even when he asks why God abandoned him. I cry reading all these words not just because I know the answer to Jesus’ question. I cry because I am the answer. I betray. I crave blood. I mock. And I abandon.
We can pretend otherwise all we want, but our ears and hearts know when our voices are speaking the truth. We are all desperate sinners in need of a savior. And, make no mistake, our sins rack up a disgusting price. Usually, I would share more here about how Jesus’ passion and death are only part of the great and beautiful gospel story, but in Good Friday fashion I won’t. I want it to linger. That’s what Lent is all about.
In ancient times most people would read out loud, even when they were alone. Augustine shares in his Confessions that he found one of his former pastors, Ambrose, to be odd because he read silently to himself. Perhaps Ambrose found other people reading out loud annoying. I know I do sometimes. But when I rehearse for our church’s Sunday worship service, I read both our Scripture reading text and sermon text out loud. And I find that my ears are often attuned to different aspects of God’s speech than my eyes are. I also find God’s words to be more powerful as I read them aloud, especially in front of others.
2015 marks the fourth time I will be a pastor during Lent and Eastertide. Our church has a tradition of Good Friday services, and when I have a hand in planning them I focus much on the public reading of the passion texts. I usually do not include a sermon on top of them. These past few years whenever I read the passion texts of Jesus’ final days I end up crying. Tears well up in my eyes. I take deeper breaths. I purposely include longer pauses, sometimes in awkward places, just so I can gather myself a little and force the words on the page out of my mouth. Of all the challenges I face in serving as a pastor, few are more difficult than this annual occurrence. I feel out of control during those moments, but I’m never embarrassed about it. I’d be more worried if I could coolly read Jesus’ passion stories out loud as if I were reciting a newspaper article on the opening of a new cheese factory in our county.
Our evening prayer service last week accidentally became a preview for Good Friday. I had crafted a handout for our group to pray through, which was simple enough. We had one person read aloud a passage from the Gospels on Jesus’ last day before his death and then a space on the page for us to write a personal prayer using a prompt from the text. There were six passages in all, and I volunteered to read Mark 15:22-34, which talks about Jesus’ crucifixion. Whoops. Tears welled up in my eyes. I took long, deep breaths. I paused often, sometimes after a couple words. Eventually, all the tears started strolling down my cheeks. I should’ve known all of that would happen, but I forgot.
That night our final prayer was to write about our experience of reading all the passages together, walking from Jesus' garden prayer to his corpse’s burial in a new tomb. As I wrote, I reflected on why reading these texts out loud always makes me cry. Whenever I read them silently to myself it’s never the same. It’s always…easier. To my delight and dread my written prayer gave the answer. The Gospels report not only Jesus’ actions and words, but the behavior of others as well. When I read the Gospels out loud I hear my voice say things such as “crucify him” or “save yourself.” I hear with my own voice Peter’s cowardly betrayal, Pilate’s spineless politicking, the crowd’s thirst for blood, the soldiers’ mockery, and the shocking grief of Jesus’ mother and a mere handful of supporters at the time of his death. I also hear in my own voice Jesus’ groans from the cross, even when he asks why God abandoned him. I cry reading all these words not just because I know the answer to Jesus’ question. I cry because I am the answer. I betray. I crave blood. I mock. And I abandon.
We can pretend otherwise all we want, but our ears and hearts know when our voices are speaking the truth. We are all desperate sinners in need of a savior. And, make no mistake, our sins rack up a disgusting price. Usually, I would share more here about how Jesus’ passion and death are only part of the great and beautiful gospel story, but in Good Friday fashion I won’t. I want it to linger. That’s what Lent is all about.
March 5, 2015
Out with the old. In with the new
After this week the carpet in our church building will no longer be older than me, the pastor. At one time it was a bright blue, and over the years it turned to a slightly darker blue. It handled decades of foot traffic well. In some places it bubbled, frayed, and tore, but quick fixes concealed most signs of its aging. While a bright blue color may be jarring at first, over time people got used to it until it became a part of the building itself. The old carpet got walked on repeatedly and was only noticed whenever there was a problem. After so many years of faithful service the old blue carpet was unceremoniously ripped up and removed from the building, never to be seen again. Sounds like a thankless job.
When we pulled up the seating we noticed that some areas of the carpet were pristine. Those areas were twice as thick and double the brightness of the high-traffic places. If we set those like-new pieces of carpeting aside, they probably could have lasted for many more years, but they got ripped up and removed just the same.
As I walked out of the building for the last time with the old blue carpet, I couldn’t help but notice how different everything seemed. The pews were bunched up by a wall and looked so numerous, maybe too numerous. They were designed to pack 150+ people into our worship space every Sunday, but now only about a third of that capacity is needed for morning worship. Just a mere handful of people sit on them for discipleship and prayer during Sunday school and Sunday night services. The unevenness of the pristine carpet and the high traffic carpet was also distinct.
With all the furniture removed I saw our worship space with a fresh perspective. The space was suddenly full of possibilities as I envisioned different uses and layouts, despite knowing that things would go back to “normal” just as soon as the project was completed.
The heritage of our church’s past also whispered to me that night. I thought about all the work that went into the building in the first place. As one of my teachers liked to say about church history, “we stand on their shoulders.” Standing in the silence of an empty sanctuary I prayed aloud, offering words of thankfulness for our past, despite all the changes for 118 years and counting, but also praying with hope for our future.
I walked home that night with several questions swirling about my mind. Would we be willing as Christians to rip up our old sinful selves and let God make us anew in his Spirit, or are we clinging onto our pasts and letting them dictate who we are today and who we will be tomorrow? Are too many of us pristine after so many years of Christian living because we refuse to be trampled upon? In other words, we settle for excess charity when Jesus calls us to needy love. Are we so focused on ourselves and our facilities that we have lost sight of what we are supposed to use the facilities for (e.g., worship, Word, sacrament, prayer, and discipleship)? Have we used up all our time, money, and energy on ourselves and lost our focus outward to proclaiming the gospel to our neighbors near and far?
These questions are not easily answered, and only time will tell what will become of our church as the new carpet ages underneath our gathered feet for years to come. Regardless, I am thankful for Christ’s church and his faithfulness to it. Like sparrows, lilies, and grass, we are much more valuable to our heavenly Father than carpeting that is here today and ripped up tomorrow. God will continue to take care of us, and more than anything I hope our church makes him proud.
When we pulled up the seating we noticed that some areas of the carpet were pristine. Those areas were twice as thick and double the brightness of the high-traffic places. If we set those like-new pieces of carpeting aside, they probably could have lasted for many more years, but they got ripped up and removed just the same.
As I walked out of the building for the last time with the old blue carpet, I couldn’t help but notice how different everything seemed. The pews were bunched up by a wall and looked so numerous, maybe too numerous. They were designed to pack 150+ people into our worship space every Sunday, but now only about a third of that capacity is needed for morning worship. Just a mere handful of people sit on them for discipleship and prayer during Sunday school and Sunday night services. The unevenness of the pristine carpet and the high traffic carpet was also distinct.
With all the furniture removed I saw our worship space with a fresh perspective. The space was suddenly full of possibilities as I envisioned different uses and layouts, despite knowing that things would go back to “normal” just as soon as the project was completed.
The heritage of our church’s past also whispered to me that night. I thought about all the work that went into the building in the first place. As one of my teachers liked to say about church history, “we stand on their shoulders.” Standing in the silence of an empty sanctuary I prayed aloud, offering words of thankfulness for our past, despite all the changes for 118 years and counting, but also praying with hope for our future.
I walked home that night with several questions swirling about my mind. Would we be willing as Christians to rip up our old sinful selves and let God make us anew in his Spirit, or are we clinging onto our pasts and letting them dictate who we are today and who we will be tomorrow? Are too many of us pristine after so many years of Christian living because we refuse to be trampled upon? In other words, we settle for excess charity when Jesus calls us to needy love. Are we so focused on ourselves and our facilities that we have lost sight of what we are supposed to use the facilities for (e.g., worship, Word, sacrament, prayer, and discipleship)? Have we used up all our time, money, and energy on ourselves and lost our focus outward to proclaiming the gospel to our neighbors near and far?
These questions are not easily answered, and only time will tell what will become of our church as the new carpet ages underneath our gathered feet for years to come. Regardless, I am thankful for Christ’s church and his faithfulness to it. Like sparrows, lilies, and grass, we are much more valuable to our heavenly Father than carpeting that is here today and ripped up tomorrow. God will continue to take care of us, and more than anything I hope our church makes him proud.
February 26, 2015
Have you heard about gossip?
Most Christians are familiar with what Scripture says about gossip (Proverbs 11:12-13; 16:28; 18:7-8; 21:23 and Romans 1:29). No one defends gossip as a virtue, but it spreads like snow in a blizzard because few of us want to deal with its root deep within our hearts. Like a runny nose and itchy throat, the urge to gossip is a symptom of something deeply wrong inside of us. We gossip because we love ourselves more than our neighbors.
I’ve lived in communities where the default relationship among its residents is for us all to talk about each other but not to each other. I went to a party where I knew the host but that was about it. After sitting down at a table with my wife for several minutes the man next to me pointed his finger just inches away from the temple of my forehead and loudly asked his friend across the table who I was. He never spoke a word to me directly. I would have been happy to introduce myself were he actually interested in me. But he didn’t care about me as much as knowing information about me.
Neutral or positive information isn’t that interesting to most people, so it’s the questionable or negative information that spreads. When we have a bad experience with a company we may tell 20 people, but keep it to ourselves when we have a positive one. As Christians, though, Jesus calls us to rise above our surroundings and be known by our love. To paraphrase what Jesus says about God and money, we cannot serve two masters. We will love the one and despise the other. We cannot serve both God and gossip.
We serve gossip when we excitedly share news with others for the sole purpose of spreading information rather than spreading love. We serve gossip when we whisper about others with our friends instead of stopping what we are doing to find a way to help a neighbor in need. We serve gossip when we come away from a conversation feeling better about ourselves at the expense of our neighbor. We serve gossip when we presume the worst of people we hardly know and likely have never met.
In contrast, we serve God when we love our neighbors as ourselves. We serve God when we examine ourselves, realizing that it is only by God’s grace we are who we are. We serve God when we let our lights so shine that our neighbors may see our good works and glorify our Father in heaven. We serve God when we seek his power through humility, forgiveness, service, and love. We serve God when we look for Christ in the face of our neighbors, especially the least.
Many of you reading this are gossipers. I am convinced that gossip, along with greed and pornography, is one of the most pervasive sins in America. And we never talk about it. We never even say the word. Meanwhile, our communities churn out hurt people by the dozens every year. There is good news for them and for us in Jesus Christ, but few people hear that message, because we have clogged up the lines of communication with idle gossip.
O Father, may we share your good news in place of the latest scoop about our neighbors. Amen.
I’ve lived in communities where the default relationship among its residents is for us all to talk about each other but not to each other. I went to a party where I knew the host but that was about it. After sitting down at a table with my wife for several minutes the man next to me pointed his finger just inches away from the temple of my forehead and loudly asked his friend across the table who I was. He never spoke a word to me directly. I would have been happy to introduce myself were he actually interested in me. But he didn’t care about me as much as knowing information about me.
Neutral or positive information isn’t that interesting to most people, so it’s the questionable or negative information that spreads. When we have a bad experience with a company we may tell 20 people, but keep it to ourselves when we have a positive one. As Christians, though, Jesus calls us to rise above our surroundings and be known by our love. To paraphrase what Jesus says about God and money, we cannot serve two masters. We will love the one and despise the other. We cannot serve both God and gossip.
We serve gossip when we excitedly share news with others for the sole purpose of spreading information rather than spreading love. We serve gossip when we whisper about others with our friends instead of stopping what we are doing to find a way to help a neighbor in need. We serve gossip when we come away from a conversation feeling better about ourselves at the expense of our neighbor. We serve gossip when we presume the worst of people we hardly know and likely have never met.
In contrast, we serve God when we love our neighbors as ourselves. We serve God when we examine ourselves, realizing that it is only by God’s grace we are who we are. We serve God when we let our lights so shine that our neighbors may see our good works and glorify our Father in heaven. We serve God when we seek his power through humility, forgiveness, service, and love. We serve God when we look for Christ in the face of our neighbors, especially the least.
Many of you reading this are gossipers. I am convinced that gossip, along with greed and pornography, is one of the most pervasive sins in America. And we never talk about it. We never even say the word. Meanwhile, our communities churn out hurt people by the dozens every year. There is good news for them and for us in Jesus Christ, but few people hear that message, because we have clogged up the lines of communication with idle gossip.
O Father, may we share your good news in place of the latest scoop about our neighbors. Amen.
February 19, 2015
Winter’s Gifts
Last Thursday the elementary school in town hosted an I Hate Winter Party. Kids were to wear summer clothes, albeit underneath warmer clothes for the trip to and from school. They brought beach towels and played outdoor summer games in the gym before watching a movie. I didn’t ask which movie they watched, but it probably wasn’t Frozen. I asked my son, Why all the hatred for winter? Sure, it can get cold enough to freeze your snot, sting your eyeballs, and turn your knuckles into bloody bumps, but is all that cause for hatred? He laughed and said that the party was for people who hate winter as well as people who miss summer. Apparently, the alternate moniker was the I Miss Summer Party.
We are currently in the heart of winter in South Dakota. It started in November and will last through half of May. There are pretty much two seasons here: winter and non-winter. The transitions between both seasons are swift with numerous spikes or free-falls in temperatures on several days. It’s as if nature has to play catch-up with what’s been going on in most of the hemisphere for several weeks already. Despite all its shortcomings, I must defend winter, not only for others around me but for my own heart too.
God has woven rhythms into the fabric of the world that he formed and filled for his glory. All of God’s creatures, including humans, must adjust to the slower cadence of life winter brings. Ready or not we must get used to shorter days, cooler temperatures, different colors in our landscapes. We can consider all of these changes to be losses, frittering away each week of winter in mourning until it goes away. Or we could choose to embrace its gifts.
Winter allows more time to reflect. Instead of being out in nature, we spend more time looking out at it, especially as the wind, ice, and snow blow around. Sometimes we can miss what God is doing within us during those times of year when each day is long and our schedules are full of activity.
During winter families are “stuck” together more than they are in the summer. Inside activities can include deep conversations, games, and even intentionally viewing movies or shows together. Sometimes there is a need for creativity. This winter our family has had a pickle-eating contest, an owl-themed living room marathon, Nerfgun apocalypse, cookie-making day, and wrestling match. We do plenty together during the summer, but we don’t have to be as creative.
Winter confronts us with our limits. Original sin is the lie that humans have no limits. With all our technology today we like to think we are nearly limitless, but winter is a stark reminder of our frailty. We have to limit our exposure to the elements. We have to cancel plans due to road conditions. It has to be the time of year when we most often follow James’s advice and say “If the Lord wills, we will go and …” Were Jesus to minister to South Dakota, perhaps he would say something like “and by all your worrying, not one day of winter will be shortened.” It’s not going to change, even if we gripe, moan, complain, and worry about it.
Winter reminds us of our hope. The Christian life, this side of God’s kingdom, is one of waiting, so let’s wait well. Let’s wait actively. Let’s take advantage of the wait and set our hopes on what God has promised for us. Easter comes at a fitting time for those of us who endure a winter each year, for with it is God’s promise of new life.
It’s okay to miss summer. You can even throw a party about it. But don’t waste your winter wishing it away. Let it form you too, for it brings gifts in its season.
We are currently in the heart of winter in South Dakota. It started in November and will last through half of May. There are pretty much two seasons here: winter and non-winter. The transitions between both seasons are swift with numerous spikes or free-falls in temperatures on several days. It’s as if nature has to play catch-up with what’s been going on in most of the hemisphere for several weeks already. Despite all its shortcomings, I must defend winter, not only for others around me but for my own heart too.
God has woven rhythms into the fabric of the world that he formed and filled for his glory. All of God’s creatures, including humans, must adjust to the slower cadence of life winter brings. Ready or not we must get used to shorter days, cooler temperatures, different colors in our landscapes. We can consider all of these changes to be losses, frittering away each week of winter in mourning until it goes away. Or we could choose to embrace its gifts.
Winter allows more time to reflect. Instead of being out in nature, we spend more time looking out at it, especially as the wind, ice, and snow blow around. Sometimes we can miss what God is doing within us during those times of year when each day is long and our schedules are full of activity.
During winter families are “stuck” together more than they are in the summer. Inside activities can include deep conversations, games, and even intentionally viewing movies or shows together. Sometimes there is a need for creativity. This winter our family has had a pickle-eating contest, an owl-themed living room marathon, Nerfgun apocalypse, cookie-making day, and wrestling match. We do plenty together during the summer, but we don’t have to be as creative.
Winter confronts us with our limits. Original sin is the lie that humans have no limits. With all our technology today we like to think we are nearly limitless, but winter is a stark reminder of our frailty. We have to limit our exposure to the elements. We have to cancel plans due to road conditions. It has to be the time of year when we most often follow James’s advice and say “If the Lord wills, we will go and …” Were Jesus to minister to South Dakota, perhaps he would say something like “and by all your worrying, not one day of winter will be shortened.” It’s not going to change, even if we gripe, moan, complain, and worry about it.
Winter reminds us of our hope. The Christian life, this side of God’s kingdom, is one of waiting, so let’s wait well. Let’s wait actively. Let’s take advantage of the wait and set our hopes on what God has promised for us. Easter comes at a fitting time for those of us who endure a winter each year, for with it is God’s promise of new life.
It’s okay to miss summer. You can even throw a party about it. But don’t waste your winter wishing it away. Let it form you too, for it brings gifts in its season.
February 12, 2015
Someone Like You: Do we let God speak for himself?
Some people have argued that the God of Christianity or gods of every other religion are little more than projections of the humans who worship them. If you have ever put on a shadow puppet show, then you know how projections work. They take something small, like a tiny hand with two fingers pointing up, and distort its image on a much larger scale, like a giant bunny rabbit overtaking a wall. Many who talk about God, in the terms of one theologian, are just talking about themselves rather loudly. To be sure, there is a direct link between humanity and its gods, and the only way to break it is by letting God speak for himself.
Christians believe God speaks for himself especially through the prophets, the Apostles, and through Jesus Christ. Even so, many Christians carelessly speak anyway for the God who already speaks for himself. God will reflect their tastes. God’s standards will become their own standards. Jesus’ thoughts will resemble their own thoughts. They can take the words of Scripture and mold them like Play-Doh to fit into their distorted understanding of God. Such people keep on doing the things they think God likes them to do, but their daily actions reveal where their hearts are really aligned.
In Psalm 50, God speaks through Asaph and has a message to his people. At first God says some of his people are doing well. They worship God rightly and fulfill their vows to him. But halfway through the psalm God’s tone changes as he addresses the wicked person. To that person, God says the following:
“‘What right have you to recite my laws or take my covenant on your lips? You hate my instruction and cast my words behind you. When you see a thief, you join with him; you throw in your lot with adulterers. You use your mouth for evil and harness your tongue to deceit. You sit and testify against your brother and slander your own mother’s son. When you did these things and I kept silent, you thought I was exactly like you. But I now arraign you and set my accusations before you. Consider this, you who forget God, or I will tear you to pieces, with no one to rescue you: Those who sacrifice thank offerings honor me, and to the blameless I will show my salvation’” (Psalm 50:16b-23).
God’s silence comes in all sorts of ways. Other passages of Scripture, even another psalm by Asaph (Psalm 73), ponder why wicked people seem to get rewarded in this life for their behavior and God seemingly does nothing about it. But God is not silent. He has spoken, and he has revealed he is unlike all of our distortions about him. He is love. He overflows with life. In Christ, he receives, is vulnerable, suffers, and even tastes death for us. He is forgiving and forgetful of sins to those who confess them and trust in him for salvation, but as Asaph reminds us, God remembers well the actions of those who forget him. And they forget God because they’ve settled for a distortion of him, projected by their own sinfully mixed-up ideas about what God should be like.
Our sinful nature within us and our sinful culture around us pressure us to create a god who is exactly like us. The true God speaks and shatters all of those distortions, but only if we are listening to him. If the community of the redeemed is gathered in worship to listen to God speak, we must join them. If the Scriptures are freely available to be read and savored, we must open them and consider what they say. If our neighbor is on the verge of being torn to pieces, we must share God’s salvation with them. He has chosen to use you and me to show his salvation to others, because a god exactly like us will save no one.
Christians believe God speaks for himself especially through the prophets, the Apostles, and through Jesus Christ. Even so, many Christians carelessly speak anyway for the God who already speaks for himself. God will reflect their tastes. God’s standards will become their own standards. Jesus’ thoughts will resemble their own thoughts. They can take the words of Scripture and mold them like Play-Doh to fit into their distorted understanding of God. Such people keep on doing the things they think God likes them to do, but their daily actions reveal where their hearts are really aligned.
In Psalm 50, God speaks through Asaph and has a message to his people. At first God says some of his people are doing well. They worship God rightly and fulfill their vows to him. But halfway through the psalm God’s tone changes as he addresses the wicked person. To that person, God says the following:
“‘What right have you to recite my laws or take my covenant on your lips? You hate my instruction and cast my words behind you. When you see a thief, you join with him; you throw in your lot with adulterers. You use your mouth for evil and harness your tongue to deceit. You sit and testify against your brother and slander your own mother’s son. When you did these things and I kept silent, you thought I was exactly like you. But I now arraign you and set my accusations before you. Consider this, you who forget God, or I will tear you to pieces, with no one to rescue you: Those who sacrifice thank offerings honor me, and to the blameless I will show my salvation’” (Psalm 50:16b-23).
God’s silence comes in all sorts of ways. Other passages of Scripture, even another psalm by Asaph (Psalm 73), ponder why wicked people seem to get rewarded in this life for their behavior and God seemingly does nothing about it. But God is not silent. He has spoken, and he has revealed he is unlike all of our distortions about him. He is love. He overflows with life. In Christ, he receives, is vulnerable, suffers, and even tastes death for us. He is forgiving and forgetful of sins to those who confess them and trust in him for salvation, but as Asaph reminds us, God remembers well the actions of those who forget him. And they forget God because they’ve settled for a distortion of him, projected by their own sinfully mixed-up ideas about what God should be like.
Our sinful nature within us and our sinful culture around us pressure us to create a god who is exactly like us. The true God speaks and shatters all of those distortions, but only if we are listening to him. If the community of the redeemed is gathered in worship to listen to God speak, we must join them. If the Scriptures are freely available to be read and savored, we must open them and consider what they say. If our neighbor is on the verge of being torn to pieces, we must share God’s salvation with them. He has chosen to use you and me to show his salvation to others, because a god exactly like us will save no one.
February 5, 2015
The Church and Mission: Does God’s mission have you?
According to John’s Gospel, Jesus was well aware of his role on earth as God the Father’s one and only Son. What the Father does, Jesus also does. What the Father starts, Jesus finishes. What the Father wills, the Son carries out. What the Father commissions, Jesus commissions. And that’s where we come in. Jesus did not tailor the mission to those he recruited to be his first disciples. Or, to use one of Jesus’ most familiar metaphors, the harvest comes first, creating the need for workers, not the other way around. Jesus worked the harvest by finding disciples from all walks of life as he equipped them and sent them to carry out the mission with his empowering.
Their mission was no different than his. Luke puts it this way: “But he [Jesus] said, ‘I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent.” [. . .]. And he sent them [the Twelve] out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal the sick” (Luke 4:43, 9:2). In the next chapter (Luke 10), Jesus sends out 72, and in Acts Jesus sends out thousands.
If you look at the details of these accounts you could possibly think that Jesus’ mission began and ended with his first disciples. They were to heal the sick and perform miraculous signs, and the Book of Acts shows that they did. But the mission was at its heart one of proclaiming, by word and by deed, and that same mission continues today. Consider what Peter writes to a second generation of disciples. After saying that Jesus was like a stone that was rejected by people but chosen by God, Peter connects Jesus’ mission to his audience’s mission: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy” (1 Pet 2:9-10). God came first. He chose us. He commissioned us. He made us righteous. And he sent us to declare his praise. His mission found a people.
Church leaders often discuss the vision and mission of the church. Such efforts are not a waste because mediocrity and decline set in where there is no direction or assessment within a church. However, we must never forget who comes first. God. We must never forget who moves first. God. We must never forget what forms and shapes us first. God’s mission. Before we spend time and energy figuring out what the mission of our church ought to be, we must first ask ourselves, does God’s mission have our church? The only honest way to figure out the answer is for each church member to ask, does the church’s mission have me?
Peter would say that the church’s mission does not have you if you do not declare in worship the praises of him who called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light. He says a whole lot more about the church's mission in his letter, including the practices of love, suffering, patience, holiness, and forgiveness. Most of these things take place within community, not just when we are alone.
The church is all about proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom. That’s our mission. Do we have you?
Their mission was no different than his. Luke puts it this way: “But he [Jesus] said, ‘I must proclaim the good news of the kingdom of God to the other towns also, because that is why I was sent.” [. . .]. And he sent them [the Twelve] out to proclaim the kingdom of God and to heal the sick” (Luke 4:43, 9:2). In the next chapter (Luke 10), Jesus sends out 72, and in Acts Jesus sends out thousands.
If you look at the details of these accounts you could possibly think that Jesus’ mission began and ended with his first disciples. They were to heal the sick and perform miraculous signs, and the Book of Acts shows that they did. But the mission was at its heart one of proclaiming, by word and by deed, and that same mission continues today. Consider what Peter writes to a second generation of disciples. After saying that Jesus was like a stone that was rejected by people but chosen by God, Peter connects Jesus’ mission to his audience’s mission: “But you are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light. Once you were not a people, but now you are the people of God; once you had not received mercy, but now you have received mercy” (1 Pet 2:9-10). God came first. He chose us. He commissioned us. He made us righteous. And he sent us to declare his praise. His mission found a people.
Church leaders often discuss the vision and mission of the church. Such efforts are not a waste because mediocrity and decline set in where there is no direction or assessment within a church. However, we must never forget who comes first. God. We must never forget who moves first. God. We must never forget what forms and shapes us first. God’s mission. Before we spend time and energy figuring out what the mission of our church ought to be, we must first ask ourselves, does God’s mission have our church? The only honest way to figure out the answer is for each church member to ask, does the church’s mission have me?
Peter would say that the church’s mission does not have you if you do not declare in worship the praises of him who called you out of darkness and into his marvelous light. He says a whole lot more about the church's mission in his letter, including the practices of love, suffering, patience, holiness, and forgiveness. Most of these things take place within community, not just when we are alone.
The church is all about proclaiming the good news of God’s kingdom. That’s our mission. Do we have you?
