Thanks and Giving

My daughter is the coolest prayer I know. She's three and rocks conversation with God harder than her pastor father.

Aswesome.

Here's what I love about how she prays, she only ever thanks God for stuff. Even while she's asking for things she's thanking God. Somehow I've learned that in pryaer you say everything you're thankful for, and then you move on to the point of the prayer. Like how you might compliment someone, or say some nice pleasantry, before asking them to make a pie for the bake sale or watch your kids for the weekend. There's the order of thanks first then request. It's a universal law isn't it?

But my daughter only has one mode: thanks. 

Here's an example of a few of her prayers to illustrate this:

While dropping Sheena off at work, "God, thanks for good day mom will have at work."

Or at dinner tonight, "Dear God, thanks for the food. Thanks that dad will have a good meeting tonight. Thanks for the good time at preschool. Amen."

There's always this jumble of past and present and future thanks.

It's beautiful. I hope it never changes.

I can't help but wonder if this is what Jesus was talking about when he was talking about faith like a child: just thank God for it all. 

Great and Full or Grateful?

We have a problem with gratitude.

Years ago a bunch of us made a goofy little video about what a new and improved man might look like. At the end, one of the summary statements was that he would have "less attitude, more gratitude." 

There have been times for me when that is true, where thankfulness and appreciation and gratitude come naturally. However, that isn't always the case. 

In reading through Deuteronomy, a book about a pivotal time in the history of Israel where they were moving from the desert to enter the promise of God, there are a few statements that stand out to me. Most notable are the almost word for word repetitions of "when you eat and are satisfied." (Deut. 6:11, 8:10, 8:12, 11:15)

Why did they stand out? 

Not because I'm hungry, but because I'm overfed. 

It's hard to know want when you're over satisfied. The people of Israel knew want. The generation listening to Moses were born during a 40 year road trip through harsh wilderness. A wilderness that Moses describes as: "a vast and dreadful desert, that thirsty and waterless land, with its venomous snakes and scorpions." (Deut. 8:15)  

After each use of "when you eat and are satisfied" comes a warning. "Do not forget the Lord."

Why, because at first when you move into a city you did not build, or eat the food from a pantry you did not stock, or drink water from a well you did not dig, you are filled with gratitude and readily thank the provider. However, over time the tendency is to begin thinking that the true provide is not God but the one who maintains the city, the food supply, and the well. 

That is fine if we continually recognize that God is the maintainer. 

Too often we see the efforts we put in and think the maintenance is up to us.  Then it becomes the city we have built, the food we have provided, the well we have dug. And we begin living Bart Simpson's prayer: "Dear God, we paid for all this stuff ourselves. So thanks for nothing." 

"When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the Lord your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the Lord your God." (Deut. 8:10-11a)

"When you eat and are satisfied, be careful that you do not forget the Lord, who brought you out of Egypt, out of the land of slavery." (Deut. 6:11b-12)

Now, this relates to more than food but to spouses, children, homes, vehicles, relationships, and countless other ways the Lord has provided. 

How then does one continually recognize them as gifts lovingly provided and avoid the trap of looking at my kids and thinking yeah, I made that, or my wife and responding I put a ring on that, or my house and lamenting I'm signing away my pay cheques for that, or my car and worrying will I eventually wreck that? 

The Israelites wrote reminders on the door frames of their houses, and strapped them to their bodies, and built altars where they sacrificed. Their worship was all related to remembering that God is the provider. 

For the Israelites, and for us, to remember well meant writing something down, reading something daily, reciting something throughout the day. There was a physicality to remembering. The eyes saw, the ears heard, the tongue twisted, the hands carried, erected and prepared. 

I can't say that I've been through a wilderness like the Israelites. I have had my own experiences of being without, of waiting for the Lord to fulfill his promises, but no land of snakes and scorpions. I am in a place of absolute abundance, all because that is where the Lord has placed me. 

I am usually great.

I am always full. 

I'm not always grateful.

If there are some of you rocking the gratitude share your secrets? What have you done to maintain focus on God as your provider? 

"Listen, O Israel! the Lord is our God, the Lord alone. And you must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your strength. And you must commit yourselves wholeheartedly to these commands that I am giving you today. Repeat them again and again to your children. Talk about them when you are at home and when you are on the road, when you are going to bed and when you are getting up. Tie them to your hands and wear them on your forehead as reminders. Write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates." Deuteronomy 6:4-9

August Lent Thoughts

I found myself thinking about lent this morning.

I say this today, because if I wait until Lent Eve* to share this I'll have long forgotten these thoughts.

My mind jumped into thoughts about lent because of some reading I was involved in, that also happened this morning. I'll share more on the reading in a moment. First...

I've heard of a lot of nontraditional fasts for lent.  However, these "nontraditional" fasts are becoming so commonplace they are on the verge of becoming the new traditional. Who doesn't know someone who gave up "television" for lent? My sister gave up sugar one year. That would be a doozy. I don't know if I could do it.

I think there is a lot of merit in giving things up for a period of time so that one can become more focused on God. And for many people, food isn't the thing they most need to step away from.

I remember a conversation with a guy, years back, who gave up bacon.

Really?

Bacon?

What makes it better is that there was a massive bacon binge on either side of those 40 days. And I mean multiple pigs were involved in the making of this binge.

I'm sure that's exactly what the first "Lenters" had in mind when they began the tradition.

They were giving up all food, so that one day a guy would give up bacon, after eating a three month supply in the 24 hours prior to the "fast," and another three months supply in the hour following.

Way to show us how it's done.

While there are lots of absurd fasts. There are some nontraditional fasts that need consideration.

I read today** about fasting from pride. Or more specifically, fasting from ways we defend our pride. The author uses the example of going without defending yourself whenever you are criticized.

I don't know what would be harder, 40 days without sugar, or 40 days without thinking of a comeback, defense or excuse?

The book also speaks of doing secret acts of service as a way of deflating pride because one receives no credit for them. That still seems easy by comparison because there is a more tangible, and immediate, reward: what many call a warm and fuzzy feeling. I feel good when I do something nice in secret so it's not a hardship.

But standing there and taking criticism?

I don't know.

And that might very well be the thing I need to go 40 days without.



- - -
* I know that "Lent Eve" isn't an official term. However, I propose that it is perhaps a better, more encompassing, term for the day of preparations for lent than "Fat Tuesday."

** I've been reading Brian McLaren's "Finding Our Way Again: the return of the ancient practices" Nashville: Tomas Nelson, 2008

Praying for the Ill

I think I pray for the sick wrong.

It sounds wrong to say, because there shouldn't be a wrong way to pray for someone else. (Well, unless you don't pray at all.) I mean, aren't five word prayers of "God, help ______ get better." better than no prayers at all?

Well, yes.

But today Iv'e been challenged that a better way to pray exists.

I read this morning about some spiritual disciplines, and among those listed was "praying for the sick."

If praying for the sick is a spiritual practice I have to admit that I don't feel very spiritual doing it.

When praying for the sick I am almost always no where near them. I don't mean sick people are across the room, I mean they are across the town, or country, or world.

I don't have a lot of contact with sick people unless they come to church. Then I'm usually sitting there thinking, "Why on earth did they come to church this morning? They're going to get everyone else sick. If I get what they've got, I'm going to be some mad."

So I began to ask, what if praying for the sick really is a spiritual practice? And what if praying for the sick wasn't meant to look anything like the way I pray for the sick? What if prayer was supposed to look like something else?

I remember the very first hospital visit I went on. I was fresh out of college, but was totally clueless about what it meant to be a pastor.* I was working with a church and one day the pastor told me we were going to visit a man in the hospital. He was loosely connected to the church. He wasn't a regular attender. I don't even know if he tithed. But the pastor knew him and that was enough.

I don't remember his name. But oddly I remember that he had very bad pneumonia.** (Is there good pneumonia?)

And I remember one other thing. I was beyond awkward. He had weird wires connected to his chest. And tubes coming out of places I don't ever want to have tubes coming out of. I thought, "surely this guy wants to be left alone."

We didn't stay long, but we sat, chatted, and prayed.

All while he had an ECG done.

Before we left the pastor prayed for him.

I think this is the spiritual discipline of praying for the sick.

Praying for the sick will involve, on some level, knowing the person in their sickness: coming close, or in contact with the sick them, and walking with them through the sickness.

And, I hope this doesn't sound biased, you don't have to be a pastor to do this. I think this type of prayer is for every believe to practice. Ever believer has it in them to visit the sick, begin to know them in their illness and pray through it with them.

That doesn't mean I won't pray when I get those emails from people I barely know to pray for some person I've never heard of who has a disease I've never heard of. I'll pray then, but that prayer is a different prayer than one offered while holding the hand to the ill.




* I'm still very much clueless only I can confidently say that in these 11 years I've learned approximately 3 things about being a pastor.

**that's right spell checker had to help me with this one. To my delight I was only one letter off from spelling it correctly on the first try.

God Impressions

Sometimes I love watching a masterful impressionist: one so good that when they begin the impression they don't even need to tell you who they are doing. You know a bad impressionsit don't you? They're the guys who tell you they're doing Robert DeNiro* and you still don't see the resemblance.

They really talented guys slip in and out of characters like they're flip flops, and they don't pause to tell you who they are now.

It's like they become the other person. Like Frank Caliendo here



That's a good impression right there. I mean, he didn't need to tell you he was doing President Bush, he did, but it was unnecessary. And I love too, how he breaks down the aspects of the impression: the squinting, the head bobbing, the hand gestures. This could almost be a video on how to do a President Bush impression.

It's a masterful impression.

Ephesians 5:1 says this:

"Be imitators of God, therefore, as dearly loved children"

Hmm, be imitators of God.

Where's a video on how to do this?

What would be part of a good God impression?

Love, Joy, Peace, Patience, Kindness, Goodness, Faithfulness, Gentleness, Self Control, Holiness, Mercy, Justice, Caring, and more.

They would all have to be in there.

Some days I'll struggle with any combination of those. Okay, most days I'm doing great if I get one down.

If imitating God involves being all of that, modeling the all of those characteristic, it seems like Paul is instructing an impossible task.

But maybe not.

There's a great deal of hope in the second half of the verse: "as dearly loved children."

I've never tried, but I bet I could do a pretty good impression of my dad. Sometimes, I'd call my sister mom. Not because she was acting motherly, but because her and my mom do some things very much alike. Sometimes Sheena calls Makiah "Christopher." Why? Because we know where Makiah get's it. And sometimes I call Sheena "Sheila."

Recently I was at a camp with some students. One day, there were two gentlemen leaning against a counter in the dinning hall. One was older than I, and the other about 6, maybe 8, years of age. They were undeniably father and son.

If you held up two head shots of these guys I'd probably say there was no relation. But when they stood together it was blatantly obvious.  They stood the same. There was something about their genetic make up that caused them to pose, and move, their lanky bodies the same way. And without even making an effort.

Then naturally had the same posture.

Children are like their parents.

It's genetic.

Accept it, it's true.

Paul says in 1 Corinthians, "Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation: the old had gone, the new has come!"

The new creation we are becoming, when we join Christ, is sons and daughters of God. That means new family lines, new spiritual DNA, new way of being, new tendencies.

I'm not sure that means we can work on our God imitation while sitting on the couch. The new muscles required to show justice, and mercy, and patience, and love, and gentleness, and etc. need to be worked and toned. But they're in there waiting to be shown off.

They're like my six pack. Oh it's in there somewhere, it's just very well hidden.

To balance this thought, we don't achieve a great God impression on our own either. We need to work on it, because practice makes it better: more visible, more God like. However, we don't get there on our own strength. God has given us, through his spirit, the spiritual framework to be more like him, but he doesn't leave us there. When we practice these characteristics God himself becomes our trainer helping us develop muscles that are growing inside of us.

God, as our father, is desiring to work with us, helping us, hone a better God imitation, so that others might look at us and know what God is truly like. 

_ _ _

*because everyone does DeNiro especially the guys who can't do impressions.

On Leaping and Jumping...

I was reading Acts chapter three recently.

I've read the book of Acts numerous times. As a child I enjoyed many of the stories it holds, but it wasn't until I was a freshman in college that I fell  in love with the book. I remember one evening in the student lounge reading the final chapter and desperately wanting to know what happened to the characters. I was desperate to know more: to have a sequel.

In Acts 3, a rather out of the ordinary thing happens: a crippled man is healed. Maybe today it's more ordinary: we have surgeries for that.* My wife sees patient after patient go from crippled to walking. It's common today, but not so much back then.

So, a man, crippled from birth, is carried to his favorite begging spot. And where is the favorite begging spot? The temple door. Or, the church door, if that rings more true for you. He sits outside the place of worship to ask the faithfully religious for cash.**

I'm not sure how many people gave to him that day. We have no record of it. All we know is that two men were going into the temple, and they were asked, as we assume many others were asked: "brother can you spare a dime?"

Now, apparently he asked the wrong guys, because they were broke. Or at least, by their own admission, they have no silver and gold. But they are far from broke. they have something far more valuable:

They know a guy.

And, this guy, thought not anywhere to be seen, heals the crippled man.

The unseen one is named, the men speak his name: Jesus Christ of Nazareth. And when even the most remarkable, unimaginable things are spoken in this name they happen. People who have never walked, begin to walk.

Peter, the one who spoke the name gets credit for the healing, for he doesn't deserve it or even accept it.

There are two things in this story that are really speaking to me right now.***

1. He began praising God. There is a song about this story that tells us he was leaping and jumping and praising God. Well, we don't see him leaping and jumping here, but perhaps he was in his heart. He was, none the less, praising God.

It's understandable that he has much to praise God for.

He can now praise God that he is no longer employed. He can wake up the next morning and begin looking for something else to do with his life.

In his rare case, this is a very good thing.

God has just changed everything about his life. But maybe that's not so rare.

I then begin asking, what in my life has God changed? What areas has he touched? Have there been transformations in me?

You better believe it.

I've never been crippled. I don't know what it's like to lack the physical strength to walk. But God has done, and continues to do, wonderful things in my life. I look at my family, I hug my daughter, I feel kicks coming from within my wife's uterus, I savor an afternoon sitting by the lake tossing stones into the water, and realize the everything in my life is as much a gift as that man beginning to walk.

And have I ever, do I ever, go around leaping and jumping and praising God?

Not nearly enough.

There are things every day that I need to praise God for: that I need to jump up and do a dance of joy for.

2. Peter, the one the people try and credit for the healing, asks the crowd a telling question: "Why does this surprise you?"

Am I surprised that God healed this man? Am I surprised by God?

Or more accurately of myself, do I ever ask God for over the top things: things so big only God can do them?

Why?

Do I think God can't do it? Do I think he won't? Why don't I ask God?

I bring God petty things all the time. Why no outrageous things?

Am I trying handle them on my own? Or am I seeking nothing outrageous?

The crowd recognized this guy. They recognized that he used to beg outside the temple. They must have been passing him by for years. I wonder if anyone ever stopped to ask God to heal him. I doubt it. Surly Peter wasn't the first one to pass by without cash. Why does he seem to be the first to ask God to heal him?

What huge, massive, outrageous things might God be doing around me that I'm missing out on?

Why am I surprised?  Why am I not asking God?

Is this true of any of you?

Why not go read Acts 3 and see what stands out for you?


*I'm sensing an apple app spoof with the tag line: "There's a surgery for that."

**As a side note, I wonder what would happen if on Sunday morning there was someone homeless, or crippled, or someone who can't find work for a variety of reasons, perched outside of our church asking for donations. What would I do? What would our church do? What would your church do?

***Besides my curiosity about whether or not anyone who gave to the crippled man wanted their money back. I wonder this very much, and maybe one day I'll get an answer. Perhaps this curiosity speaks more about me than anything else.

Can I Get an Amen?

Now, what if I told you they scored?

A fun thing happened this Easter Sunday: a group of us had gathered with a communal purpose, and passion, with the same hopes, fears and anticipation.

Now, given that it was Easter you might be expecting me to be talking about the church service. Yes, I went to church in the morning. However, the service had a very different, you might saw more hidden, kind of passion compared to this other gathering.

And what was the other gathering?

A hockey game.

At the arena?

Nope.

I was in a ferry terminal.

One TV in the ferry terminal had the game on. And the place was packed. All sorts of travellers and terminal employees gathered to cheer, talk about the game, and experience intense joys and bouts of anxiety. Fortunately I was there nice and early to get a good seat as it quickly became standing room only.

I probably loved watching the crowd as much as the game. There were all sorts of people shoulder to shoulder.

One of the employees gathered there was a supervisor of sorts for the ferries. He had his radio and cell phones squawking at him from time to time as he tried to watch the game and do his job. Another employee there was the sole operator of a salad bar. She almost seemed disappointed that customers were pulling her away from the game. One traveller to join us, the youngest spectator by far, was dressed head to toe in visual displays of which team he was cheering for. He was very concerned that he'd miss the end of the game, until he learned the boat he was on had one.

Why was there so much passion in the crowd watching the game?

Well, it's hockey, in a hockey crazed Canadian city.

But why was there more passion there then in church?

I'm not entirely sure.

Perhaps it's not fair to say the service had less passion. I suppose it's more fair to say that it merely had less visible passion. But then again, what good, or of what evidence is there, if passion isn't on display? Can you call it passion if you're quiet about it?

When the Canucks scored their first goal Sunday, there was loud, audible, make people not paying attention drop their coffee because of fright, cheering.

When the pastor said, “he is risen.” people were rather quiet.

I don't get it.

I hope with too much energy that I live to see the Canucks win the Stanley Cup, but as awesome as that would be, when you compare that with God's redeeming work through Jesus Christ, it is no where near as great.

If ever there was something to be passionate about it's that God loves each of us so much he would do anything to restore the relationship. God is crazy passionate about us. Can we begin to be passionate about the same things God is? Or are we too distracted by the hockey game?

By the way:

Go Canucks Go!

Older Sisters

I was warned a couple years ago that you have to be careful what you say in front of kids.  

Now trust me, I believed it whole heartedly. And that led me to be relatively careful what I say: especially when Makiah is awake. I don't want to take any chances. 

Still, it seems, that from time to time, a word or phrase pops out of her mouth and I'm left wondering where she learned it. 

Take the other night* for example, Sheena was at work so I was putting Makiah to bed. I was about to pray with her, as we do every night, but this night I decided to ask her who she would like to pray for. 

Her response: "Baby." 

I inquired if she meant her dolly. I could see a two year old wanting to pray for her dolly. 

But she said "No, baby! Baby in tummy."

I had a feeling I knew where she was going with this, but I wanted to be sure. "Makiah, do you want to pray for the baby in Mommy's tummy?"

"Yeah. Baby Mommy tummy."

So that night, we began praying for the baby in mommy's tummy too. And now, partly because Makiah is crazy about routines, we pray for the baby every night. 

It will be a lot of fun telling our second child that they were prayed for by their older sister since before they were born. Hopefully this means that Makiah will be an awesome older sister. 

* this was actually three or four weeks ago. 

God in a Box

There are some great stories that come out of the book of 1 Samuel. Because of this, the writings of Samuel have to be among some of my favourite of the Old Testament.

In chapter 4 we read of the Israelites going to war against the Philistines. After the first day of fighting they get humiliated. It's an absolute defeat. 4,000 Israelites die that day.

That's a bit embarassing.


So they come up with a new plan. It doesn't say who, but someone eventually shares their iedea: "Hey let's go get God."

So they bring the Chest of God, the Ark of the Covenant, a box that is God's seat in the meeting place.

This isn't any ordinary box. To say it is special is an understatement. In Numbers it's reported that Moses heard the voice of God speak to him from between the two angels on the top of the chest.

The Israelites cheer loudly when the ark enters their camp on the front lines of the battle. They whoop and holler so loudly it's as if God himself were walking through the camp.

The shouting is so loud the Philistines grow concerned. They begin to wonder what's going on and they learn that the God of the Israelites has joined them. This concerns them greatly. They resolve to fight harder for fear that they'll become the Israelites slaves if they don't.

Okay, I've got a question, so when they killed 4,000 Israelites in round one, were they not trying their hardest? They seem to be saying that they weren't giving it their all. At the very least they have more to give.

And they do, and they kill 30,000.

And the defeat is as surprising as it is troubiling. God was supposed to help them win. God was supposed to be there with them. Why did God let them loose when he was there fighting with them?

I can't blame the Israelites for wanting to have God join them in the fight. The books of Exodus, Numbers, Joshua, and Judges, all leading up to the time of Samuel, are full of stories where God helped them win battles. In those times God showed up, and often it says God delivered the victory. So why didn't God show up when he was with them?

Clearly God wasn't with them in the way they thought. They thought he was with, or even in, the box. He wasn't. Not that it was just an ordinary box, but it didn't have the magical powers they thought. Having the box didn't necessarily mean you had God.

You can't put God in a box and tote him around with you.  You can't just pull that box out and begin showing God off.

And I can't help but wonder how often we do this.  How often do we carry God around in a box so we can pull him out and show him off at our convienience and whim. Or how often do we keep him in a safe place where we can find him to get us out of a jam?

The box was God's. It was not God.  And it did not contain God. God cannot be contained in a box.

Been Readin'

I hope you've all had a great start to 2011.

I spent much of the past few weeks reading. I read a book reminding readers that Jesus loves them, half a book on church history which I'll post a review of once finished, many reviews of guitar gear, some magazines, and a book on evangelism.

To be honest, much of what I've read has been long forgotten.

However, two things have stood out that are worth mentioning.

First, go read "And Now a Word From Our Sponsor" over at The Church of no People. Matt Appling writes an appeal for the Church to get back to creating great art. I especially love the line near the end: "What we're doing isn't cutting it... We need to spend some of that money that we spend on buildings and shows for ourselves, and hire real artist to help us communicate with people we don't know how to communicate with."

As you may know, or have guessed, I'm not an artist. I suck at art. No reasonable person would ask me to create beautiful artistic expressions of the gospel story. Yet, we live in a world that consumes visuals: a world where people speak through art. We need someone to communicate love, hope, grace, peace, and Jesus in a visually compelling way.

So let's get on that already.

Secondly, I finished up a book on evangelism by Matthew Paul Turner called "The Coffee House Gospel." I love Turner's writing. I read his blog often, and I have one other book of his on my shelf. I'm not a "crazy let's stalk him online and ready every word every written by him" kind of guy, but I enjoy his writing none the less.

If you read this book hoping to find a defense for your personal belief that a Grande a day will save your soul, you will be disappointed. If you read it hoping to become the world's most famous evangelist, you should know that this is not a how to book.

It's more of a, "Hey, did you know that when you talked to your neighbour about your mutual displeasure of waking up to a foot of snow needing to be shoveled off the driveway, you were creating future opportunities to share with them the hope you have of being saved from eternal damnation because you were building a relationship with them and are not hoping to one day say: 'Walking on snow is like walking on frozen water. Hey speaking of walking on water, my friend did that once. Maybe you've heard of him, his name is Jesus.'? " kind of book.

There are now many underlined sound bites in my copy of the book, and here's one I'd love to share with you:

"I've realized that sometimes I have found myself to be so cold towards non-Christians. Not that I'm mean to them, but I just simply don't feel the weight of the void in their lives." 

I think this really jumped out at me for the simple reason that I've been a Christian as long as I remember.  I remember being told as a kid that inside everyone's heart there is a God shaped hole. I don't have any idea what that means anymore. I mean, I know the concept, it's just not personal to me. I have no idea what it is like to feel a void that only Jesus can fill. I feel no void. And I don't know that I ever have.

Plus, given my incredibly lush Canadian lifestyle, I have no idea what it's like to have a void in my life, period. Like many people I avoid voids.* I struggle to relate to any concept of void. Yet, perhaps there are people who sense a void and just don't know how to put their finger on it. They can't name it and have to live in the discomfort that causes.

I'm speculating now.

I just don't know.

And that's why these words jumped out at me. Turner pointed out to me that perhaps I struggle to relate to my neighbours because they live with something I don't. He shares that he would pray for God to make him aware of what that feels like. I wonder if he still prays that way. I also wonder if I should be praying likewise. Perhaps it would be a greater motivator to reach across the fence.

This book was not only an encouragement to share my faith, but to also strike up conversations with strangers, because any conversation can become an opportunity to share the difference that Jesus makes in my life.

*And you read that right. I was not referencing this game or advertising campaign.

120 Years

I was reading a book today.

The chapter I was reading begins with the following quote:

It is not scientific doubt, not atheism, not pantheism, not agnosticism, that in our day and in this land is likely to quench the light of the gospel. It is a proud, sensuous, selfish, luxurious, church-going, hollow-hearted prosperity.(1)

My first thought, upon reading those words, is of the remarkable truth they speak. This is often my experience: I don't often see science, or atheism, or pantheism or agnosticism attacking the church all that much. Most often the detractors to faith are self-fulfillment. People today are hesitant to seek God because they don't need God. Even people in the church seem to be meeting all their own needs instead of looking to God for help. 

I thought this quote, because it spoke so plainly of today's North America church, must be recent. Turns out it's not. Unless there is a typo in the book's citation, the quote is from 1890. Crazy that for 120 years the issues have been much the same. 

I wonder why this is so. 

The chapter goes on to deal with our lukewarmness. As in, our response to Jesus is often more lukewarm than we realize. It's as if we're not fully buying in to the words Jesus has for his followers. 

It's as if we're not taking Jesus at his word. 

A few minutes later I was reading John 4 when these words jumped off the page at me: 

The man took Jesus at his word and departed.

(John 4:50b)

Because this guy "took Jesus at his word" amazing things happened in his life: his son, who was on the verge of dying, lived. 

That is incredible. 

I can't help but think that if we took Jesus more literally we'd see incredible things too: the dying would live. Churches would be filled with people who don't see God as another thing to have* but as their source of life. 

And so I pose this question: What words of Jesus do we need to be taking more literally?

- - - 

(1) Frederic D. Huntington, Forum magazine, 1890. Cited in Francis Chan, Crazy Love, p. 65 David C. Cook, Colorado Springs, 2008

* Got Jesus?

More From Acts 19

If the whole dirty rags part of Acts 19 wasn't really your thing, then get ready, because Acts 19 is about to get weird--well, weirder. 

I've never been beaten up.

The closest I have ever come was when two guys in college chased me around campus* then tackled me and began giving me the tickling of a life time, which, for some reason, including patting my belly.

This happened repeatedly.

I'm still recovering.

Like many things, my expertise in the realm of beat downs is limited to what I've learned from watching television.

So naturally, I like to think that I know the ins and outs of getting smacked around.

This is because I like to think that watching something on TV makes me an expert at it. That's why I attempt golf, try to solve complex physics problems on white boards, tell the quarterback who's open down field, think I'm the funniest man alive, and am considering trying to catch bullets with my teeth.

Now, on TV, when guys get smacked around it either ends very horribly for them, or very comically. We're about to read about one that ends rather comically.

Acts 19 says this:

Some Jews who went around driving out evil spirits tried to invoke the name of the Lord Jesus over those who were demon-possessed. They would say, "In the name of Jesus, whom Paul preaches, I command you to come out." Seven sons of Sceva, a Jewish chief priest, were doing this. One day, the evil spirit answered, them, "Jesus I know, and I know about Paul, but who are you?" Then the man who had the evil spirit jumped on them and over powered them all. He gave them such a beating that hey ran out of the house naked and bleeding. (Acts 19:13-16 NIV)

Let's break this down a bit and help you get the picture that's in my head.

Let's start with the seven. These were sons of a chief priest. We might call them Pastor's Kids. So here we go again with another story about pastor's kids gone wild. What are they up to now?

But I think these guys are actually trying to do some good. Okay, so maybe their motives weren't the most pure, we can't say for certain but it is possible they were trying to heal people in order to become famous. However, they were trying to do good. They were trying to drive out spirits. That is commendable.

Let's move on.

They just went about it wrong. They traded knowing God, for knowing God's name.

I can't help but think that their attempt at casting out a demons was something like trying to diffuse a bomb because you saw a guy do it once on TV.

And sure enough, this one guy, like a bomb when the wrong wire is cut, goes off on them.

I'd love to see a picture of what this one guy looked like. Was he a tiny guy, unintimidating, but with a whole lot of fury pent up inside of him? Or should they have known better because when Goliath says "I have no idea who you are" you better start running?

I hope he was a little pip squeak.

I hope they never saw the beating coming.

But then again, I love to root for the underdog. And in this case part of me is glad that the underdog won, even if he was demon-possessed.

Because what happens next seems really funny to me.

Then the man who had the evil spirit jumped on them and overpowered them all. He gave them such a beating that they ran out of the house naked and bleeding. (Acts 19:16 NIV)

One would think that the seven guys could handle the one.

How humiliating must that have been.

I bet when they told their buddies the story the guy had 13 demons.

And 33 inch biceps.

And absolutely repulsive b.o.

And horses instead of legs.

All so that he could balance on one of the horses legs while simultaneously kicking all seven brothers.

It would make sense for seven guys to be running through the street, bloody and naked, when a mob is after them. But there's just one guy. One guy severely annihilated the seven.

And that's kinda weird.

But what gets even more weird, and by that I mean abnormal, is that a demon speaks rather truthfully.

We're often told that Satan is a liar, which is true at times, so we would think that every word from one of his henchmen would also be a lie. But we have here a demon making plain an obvious truth. He's calling them out--calling out their hypocrisy.

And then teaches them a lesson.

But let up enough for them to get away.

And yes the guy had an evil spirit help him out.

But I think God was in the middle of it all.

He was, at the very least, aware of it.

I think it might be easy to pick on these brothers because they tried the run around on God. But God used the situation to build his church. Consider the results in verse 17 & 18:

When this became known to the Jews and Greeks living in Ephesus, they were all seized with fear, and the name of the Lord Jesus was held in high honor. Many of those who believed now came and openly confessed their evil deeds. 


Here's how I see this:

We've got an opponent of God's work calling out some fakers, then a whole lot of truth breaks out.

The community stopped faking it.

Somehow the demon made sense of the situation before the chief priest's boys did. And once the truth is made known a whole lot of people begin fessing up.

The community stopped faking it.

Many of those who believed now came and openly confessed their evil deeds.


Maybe this was purely motivated by a desire to avoid future humiliation at the hands of evil spirits. But before the honesty there was a newfound reverence for the name of the Lord. And that makes me think that when their honesty was well intentioned.

They didn't want to fake it anymore.

They didn't want to fake a perfect life when in reality their lives were filled with evil deeds.

They didn't want to fake knowing God.

They didn't want to act like they knew God when really they only knew his name.

I wonder how often we go around faking knowing God.

To be honest it seems rather unspritual to have to admit that there is a whole lot about God I don't know--especially as a pastor.  It would be easy to pretend to have God all figured out. And I wonder if that's why there is so much religious turmoil. Becuase we, as Christians, pretend to be experts in something we aren't. We pretend to think that God has a certain view or opinion on a matter when we can't say for certain: even though we speak very certainly about it.

Don't get me wrong, there is much we do know. I'm merely saying that maybe we don't know as much as we like to think.

I think there is so much of God that we don't know.

I need to admit that I'm not a God expert. I'm a God pursuer. My life is about getting to know God more and more each day. And that pursuit will take all of eternity.

I think we need to be more open about our lack of knowledge. More willing to say: "I have no idea what I'm doing even though I've seen it done on TV."

We need to stop faking it.

We need to pursue knowing God instead of only knowing his name. I know lots of names. That doesn't mean I know lots of people. There is a difference there that our society struggles with today.

It's bad enough to act like I know Paul when I don't. I don't want to make it worse by acting like I know Jesus when there is so much more to learn.


*it should probably be said that due to the small size of our college campus, I didn't have far to run. It was one building. I just wanted to say something more grand than, "chased me around the room."

Great Mental Imagery from Acts 19

Acts 19 tells the events that happened in the city of Ephesus as the church there was being birthed. Some crazy stuff happens--stuff that I think would make most church goers uneasy. These events, spark some vivid images in my mind. The first one involves hankies.

I'm not a fan of the hanky, or handkerchief if you're all proper like that.

And here's why, I'm not the least bit interested in putting snot into my pocket. Disposable tissues exist for a reason. They are a quick easy delivery system transporting mucus from my nose to the garbage can, and ultimately the landfill  where it belongs. Snot does not belong in my pocket. And neither does a hanky.

Now, when you have a baby you have to get used to snot.

Actually, snot is the easiest of baby "things" to get used to.

Yesterday my wife made mini ginger & carrot bran muffins. Our one year old loves them. She ate two this morning for breakfast.

This morning I had to deal with a very messy diaper.

And for some reason we avoid using disposable wipes.

I'm okay with the cloth diapers. Actually, I really like them. But the wipes issue is one I'm struggling with. I like to wipe and toss, not wipe, rinse, clean bathroom spattered with poopy splash water, toss in bin, wash bin contents, repeat.

I get the whole save money, save the planet approach.

But the planet is the least of my worries when my toes are soaked in water that ricocheted off of a poopy cloth.

There are some conveniences of our "disposable generation" that I like. Namely, disposing gross cloths whose sole purpose is to become soiled and then disposed of.

For that matter I don't reuse tissues either. Dirty them and dispose of them: that is their destiny.

This morning I was reading in Acts 19 and it seems some people found a good use for the apostle Paul's dirty handkerchief's.

consider these verses from Acts 19:

God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that even handkerchiefs and aprons that had touched him were taken to the sick and their illnesses were cured and the evil spirits left them. (Acts 19:11-12 NIV)

There is so much going on here to comment on.

Consider this, you have a rare time when a dirty hanky is curing illness instead of spreading it. Usually you'd see a dirty cloth and avoid it for fear of catching something. Here, a dirty cloth is used to cure an ailment: either spiritual, or physical, or both. Now, I'm not about to go looking through trash to find healing aids. But in Paul's day, people who had sick loved ones were desperate to find healing for them, even if it meant collecting Paul's trash, or offering him your handkerchief so that you could use it to later heal your brother.

But it's not just handkerchiefs. It's aprons too. Never has there been a better use for that tired, old, "kiss the cook" apron than this.

Now, I really appreciate it that Luke begins this wee story with the words: "God did extraordinary miracles through Paul, so that..."

Often the book of Acts is called "the Acts of the Apostles," but really, as Luke points out again and again, it's the Acts of God. God is the one doing the work here. God is the one doing the extraordinary miracles. God is the one healing.

And sometimes that healing comes through a touch, and sometimes it's through snot.

I think that if God were to begin doing extraordinary miracles through me I'd be too tempted to take credit. If my dirty tissues were healing people I'd begin gathering people around to sneeze on them. I'd probably even charge admission. But that's not what we see with Paul. God is given the credit.

And rightly so, God is doing the work.

I hope that I'm giving God enough credit.

Paul still had a job to do for God. God didn't need Paul to do it, but he blessed Paul's work.

By backing up a verse, to verse 10, we see that Paul spent two years living in a foreign city to spread the gospel message. Paul was working hard. As a result "all the Jews and Greeks who lived in the province heard the word of the Lord."

That's something.

But what is more, a few chapters earlier in the story Paul is prevented entirely from entering the province. He was eager to preach in Asia in chapter 16 but headed to Macedonia instead because he couldn't get in. Now he's in, has been in for a couple years, and is seeing much success.

God was up to something.

God was doing an incredible, "extraordinary" work.

I know I'm sometimes guilty of overlooking stuff. I can easily overlook what God can use. And I can easily overlook what God is doing.

I think God is up to a whole lot more than I give him credit for. And I hope that one day soon I'll have the eyes to see it. And most of all I hope that I don't discard that which he is most desiring to use for his glory--be it a person he desires to use who is in the process of transformation into something beautiful, or a dirty old rag.

And that reminds me: I have a bathroom to disinfect.

Naming Stuff

I remember a day in a middle school music class when we had to create a "new" instrument, and then bring it to class and play if for everyone.

I don't remember my exact score only that I did poorly on the assignment.

Probably the worst part of my project was the name. Despite having built what was essentially a four-year-old's rendition of a guitar, I came up with the worst name in the class. I'm pretty sure that's why I did poorly, because I'm almost certain now that you will never score well when the word "thingy" is in the title.

I would not have done well as Adam.

Genesis 2:19, "Now the Lord God had formed out of the ground all the beasts of the field and all the birds of the air. He brought them to the man to see what he would name them; and whatever the man called each living creature, that was its name."

Genesis 2:22-23, "Then the Lord God made a woman from the rib he had taken out of the man, and he brought her to the man. The man said, 'This is now bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh; she shall be called woman, for she was taken out of man.'"

Genesis 3:20, "Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living."

Reading these verses your first thoguth might be that the smartest thing Adam ever did was rename his wife.  "Eve" sure sounds like an upgrade from "Woman."

But this morning I was pondering this, and reflecting on my struggles with naming things such as "the stringed thingy," and wondering what life would be like if every guy had to give his wife her name. I don't think I would have come up with Sheena. I don't think she would like what I would come up with.

Naming things is a daunting task.

Naming things requires great levels of creativity.

We see in Genesis God placing man in the midst of all that God had created. God then enlisted Him to care for the creation and put language to what God had made.

We often use the word "stewardship" to refer to the act of being trusted to care for what is God's. And it seems that stewardship requires a great deal of creativity. Somewhere, within the act of stewardship, is the need to create: whether it's a method, or a system or a name, or a space or whatever. We can't be good stewards without employing thought and creativity.

Thankfully, I was never charged with naming my wife. And she's more thankful than I. But I was involved with naming our daughter, and hopefully one day  I'll be called on to help name another child. Naming what God creates is an honour that I hope we never take lightly. It's one of the first acts of stewardship and caring for what is the Lord's.

Metaphor Shirt

Last week, while on holidays in Alberta, my family and I went shopping at a mall.

The mall had a few outlet stores.

One of those outlet stores had a shirt I liked.

The shirt, which regularly goes for $60 was only $9.95.

I have a spending limit of $10 per shirt.

I tried on the shirt.

It fit nice.

I liked it even more.

I bought the shirt as fast as I possibly could.

I did not inspect the shirt.

Sunday I ironed the shirt so that I could wear it to church.

While ironing, I learned the back of the shirt has a flaw.

A major one.

I now call the shirt my metaphor shirt.

I call it that partly because I like to name my clothes* and partly because of the following:

Had I noted the flaw in the store I might not have purchased it. I still like the shirt because from the front it looks great. It's stylish. The color of it is unlike anything else in my wardrobe so my wife can't confuse it with any of my other shirts. And, to be honest, I like the company name embroidered on it.

When you approach the shirt from the front it appears flawless. However, when you approach it from the back you see that this shirt was not crafted with care. There are defects. Specifically, there is a misalignment of seams that is unstylish and glaringly obvious.

For how many of us is this true?

How many of us try and have it all together out front but are falling apart, or misaligned, out back, or on the inside?

The shirt is a facade.

Sometimes I am too.

Plus it is a reminder of me to watch for blind spots. There are things that cause me to miss the obvious. A good deal is just one of them.

So, when people ask why I am wearing such a messed up shirt I tell them it's my metaphor shirt. Buying it may have been a mistake, but wearing it is a lesson learned.


*In addition to the metaphor shirt, I also have a pair of sexy jeans, and painting pants.  However, I refuse to call anything with holes "holy." That joke, like the article of clothing, is worn out.

To Be a Gate or a Gate Crasher?

Lately I've been reading a book aimed at helping the church, meaning the people who make up the church, be better at fulfilling its purpose. This book has been an encouragement, especially in all the areas I see our church aligned with his ideas, and a challenge when I see we have a ways to go in being more effective.

One thing stood out to me in my reading today.  Brad Powell writes this: "As we've seen, Jesus promised that He will build His church and that the gates of hell will not prevail against Him (Matthew 16:18) In other words, He wants his church to be on the offensive. Gates don't attack; gates are attacked."

Matthew 16:18 says this in the NIV, "And I tell you that you are Peter, and on this rock I will build my church, and the gates of Hades will not overcome it."

This idea of the church standing up against the gates of hell is nothing new to me. I'm familiar with this verse. However, what struck me for the first time today, was that gates don't move.

Gates don't attack.

Gates stay where they are built.

Gates wait for an attacker to come.

Too often I see churches that think they're the gates.  We use language that speaks of being able to stand up against the gates, but we speak as if they're going to come and attack us. We get dug in and defensive waiting to be attacked.

We speak as if we're gates secured in a rock.

But maybe Jesus is saying we're a rock that needs to roll through some gates. Maybe we need to, as a church, rush the gates, rattle them good, and watch them crash.

I wonder what our world would look like if hell began to fall apart.

I wonder what our world would look like if the church was on the move.

Saying Amen Before Hanging Up the Phone

I get distracted fairly easily.

When there is a lot of noise, or kids darting around at my feet, or one of them trying to escape, I loose focus and concentration.

For some reason I need a lot of focus and concentration to leave a good phone message.

And so I was leaving someone a phone message the other day while chaos was unfolding around me, and I found myself distracted. In my defense it wasn't a little distraction like if I had left the TV on. This was a Level Tangerine distraction. There are only two levels of distraction higher than that: Fire Engine Red for when the house is on fire, and code brown which is too gross for words.

I'm okay with leaving a rambly distracted message. Most people I call are probably used to it: they may even expect it by now. However, as I was approaching my favourite part of the phone conversation, hanging up, my distracted, non thought out words, were words usually reserved for ending a different type of conversation: prayer.

I almost ended the phone message with the word Amen.

Instead it ended with the sentence, "In your name, ah,...(pause while I went "what am I saying here? did I think I was praying?)...talk to you later? bye."

I'm thankful that when I next saw the individual she made no mention of it. But really how do you begin that conversation? "Hey, so where you praying to me, or was that message for God?"

This has caused me to consider how I pray.

When I pray am I treating God like a voice mail inbox?

"This is a message for God. It's Chris Miller calling again at 6:30 on Tuesday May 4th. I still haven't heard back from you on the issue I was mentioning last week. You may have forgotten. I was calling to inquire about what I should be getting my wife for Mother's Day. I'd really appreciate your input on this because she is no help at all. If you could get back to me soon that would be a big help. Mother's Day is this Sunday. Thanks. You have my number."

Is that what my prayers have become?*

While I don't believe my prayers have been reduced to playing phone tag with the almighty, I think there is the potential for prayer to be like leaving a phone message if I fail to build into my relationship with God. If I fail to allow Him to speak to me. If I fail to spend time in his presence. If I fail to grow in an understanding of who God is. If I fail to grow in my understanding of what prayer is and how God communicates with His creation.

I hope that none of us would find our prayers similar to leaving a phone message. I hope that instead, we find that God is listening and working in us through our prayers.


*By the way, I have not been asking God for help in dealing with Mother's day. I think I've got that covered. And because Sheena probably won't be reading this before Sunday I'll tell you: WiFi in the house. That's right, for mother's day I'm giving her the opportunity to check facebook from the bathtub. I can hear her say it already: "Best Mother's Day gift ever."

In The Word But Not Of The Word

In the word but not of the word.

Does that look right to you? Or is something missing?

If you've been around Christianity for a while, you've probably heard the expression: "In the world but not of the world." The expression is often used as a Christian cliche to give license to doing the things that our non Christian neighbours do, so long as they don't become a bad influence on us. Thus one would be in the world, doing the "safe" things of the world, without being of the world, being influenced negatively by the actions of ones self or others.

But now I'm wondering how often Christians are just as guilty of being in the word but not of the word. Meaning, that one would read the Bible but not be transformed by the message of it.

How often do we read the words without considering their weight?

How often Christians read words that could potentially be life changing but remain unmoved?

That's being in the word but not of the word.

I think simply being in it, without allowing God to speak to you through it, is pointless. It's the religion that Jesus spoke against and leaves so many people distrusting and dissatisfied with the Church. Yes we need to be in the word, but we just as much need to be people of the word.

A Big Ol' Cat Fight

I was reading chapter five of 1 Peter today. And verse 8 jumped out at me.

Here's 1 Peter 5:8 "Be self-controlled and alert. your enemy the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour."

I don't have a lot of experience with lions. I saw the circus as a kid, and I think I remember lions being a part of it. I've been to the zoo. Actually, I was at a zoo just a couple years ago and I saw some lions there. But most of my experience with lions is all wrapped up in the Lion King. I've seem that animated classic dozens of times.

However, I suspect there's more to this lion business than the film lets on.

I grew up in an area that has a high population of Mountain Lions, or cougars as they are known locally. I've never come face to face with one because the generally leave people alone. Sightings, and attacks on people, are becoming more common. Now and then you hear of a good man versus cougar story. There was an older gentleman who, when attacked by a cougar, fought it off with his pocket knife. He was badly injured, but was able to appear on the 6 o'clock news from his hospital bed to show off his favourite pocket knife.

There was another story of a woman out camping with her family when a cougar attacked one of her children. The story goes that she grabbed a cooler and began beating the cat with it. The cougar ran off and the child suffered no long lasting effect.

These are great stories of man triumphing over large Feline.

We were taught as kids that if you spot a mountain lion, it's been watching you for a long time, but if you make yourself really big, stare it down, and show no fear, you can scare it away. Mountain Lions, so I understand, are chicken.

I am uncertain if the same thing goes for the non-mountainous lion.

I don't know why, after reading this verse many, many times, this image of the Devil being like a lion stood out to me, but as I read it my mind immediately diverted to another lionly image in Christianity: Jesus.

Sometimes Jesus is called "The Lion of Judah" with Biblical support for this name coming out of Revelation 5:5.

And it occurred to me that we are living in this world with two lions--one ruling bringing life and justice and redemption, and one fighting bringing death and destruction.

But that isn't Peter's point in calling the devil out.

In verse nine he tells us to "Resist him, standing firm in the faith"

He is resistible. We can overcome.

I think that if I were staring down a roaring lion I would be filled with a bowel moving fear that causes one to forget all sorts of survival tactics. Meaning, I would poop myself and run. Which is the exact opposite of what to do in the moments before a mountain lion attack.

Yet Peter is telling his readers to stand firm in the faith--that holding onto ones faith is overcoming this lion-like devil.

Hold on to your faith in the midst of the devil's opposition.

Hold on to your faith.

Grab that cooler.

Clutch your trusty pocket knife.

Stand firm.

Resist him.

He may be like a lion, but, so what, lions can be overcome.

Mixed Pronouns

WARNING: this one may get a little grammary.

As many of you know, I don't have excellent grammar. That is to say that the grammar around here is generally deplorable. However, I think I know the difference between "We," "You," and "I."

I think.

These three, however, do get confused. They get especially confused, for some reason, when scripture is read. For example, here's a verse I read today:

This is how we know that we love the children of God: by loving God and carrying out his commands. -- 1 John 5:2

My first thought, as a teacher of the scriptures thinking through how I might teach this verse to others, was, excellent, here is a test to determine if people in our church love each other.

Here's why it's better to read the Bible with the Holy Spirit. In less than 1.352 of a second* God helped me realize that I had switched the word "we" with the word "you."

Here's how I did that.

John says we, "we know that we love the children of God," but when I make it about others I am really saying "you."

This verse isn't about determining how much, or to what extent, others love me. It is about determining to what extent I love others. I am supposed to ask myself, do I love God and obey His commands? I am not to worry whether others are asking themselves the same question--that is between them and God. I can only ask the question of myself.

That's why it's important that it is continued to be read as "we."

"You" changes scripture, turns the reader into a judge, and incites conflict.

It seems like a simple think to switch a few pronouns around, but it can have huge consequences. And all this causes me to wonder where else I have changed "we" to "you." Where else have I twisted things, ever so slightly, to be about others and not about myself?

*can you tell I've been watching a lot of Olympic coverage? Those thousandths of a second count big time.