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.

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!

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.

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.

July

Well, it's been a month since I've written. This is a feeble attempt to explain why.

The past month was filled.

We packed a lot in.

We did some stuff, but God was doing more.

And I'm still trying to sort it all out.

Here's the thing, in the past month I've experienced some of the most incredible ministry highlights ever. Also, in the past month, I've been through some very difficult ministry challenges. Yes, you could say the most difficult ministry challenges.

Funny how often they go together.

I want to say that it's been a joy to go through both, but somehow that seems wrong. Can it be a joy to go through challenges? Can it be a joy to walk though hardships with others?

I think that while is sounds totally wrong to say, we are supposed to declare with joy everything that God is doing in our lives--including the difficulties and hard times.

In the past month I haven't had much to say.

I've tried to listen a lot.

I've tried to observe and be with people where they are at in life.

To sit.

To be present.

To be available.

To understand.

Although, I have little understanding.

I have asked questions but I'm still waiting for the answer.

All I can do is rejoice that God is doinging something in my life and in the lives of many people around me.

It doesn't make sense.

It will probably never make sense.

I'm coming to grips wtih that.

What seems to make sense is all the great things that have happened in the past month. Here are a few of them that I'm celebrating today:

- We ran a VBS for pre-school kids at our church. And lots of kids came. I mean, there were never fewer than 18 children between the ages of 2 and 5 running around our church those four days.

- It's hard to be having a bad day when you're having a Dance Party that praises Jesus with four-year-olds.

-  I was part of an incredible group of 11 people (8 youth and 3 adults) who travelled to Port Hardy to partner with that church in their vision for reaching their community.

- In Port Hardy we saw over 70 kids come out to the camp we were helping put on.*

- God answered our prayer in regards to kids at the Port Hardy camp, and the answer was a surprise, not only in how many kids came, but because it revealed in ourselves a higher capacity than we imagined. 

- We've seen God move hearts toward him.

- We continue to meet more people and make new friendships.

- And our daughter, Makiah, is now walking and it's so much fun to watch her "run" towards other kids, tackle them, and give them hugs and kisses. Also enjoyable, how often she smashes Sheena's and my head together for a kiss then joins in.**

One of the greatest joys has been being with Sheena through everything. She had a part in everything that has happened in the past month: the high and the low. She is amazing, and a big part of why this past month has been amazing.

And so today I wish to declare that this what what God has been doing in my life: great joy and great challenge.

Please be praying for our youth who have been learning a lot as well, our church, the church in Port Hardy, and the pastor there.

thank you

- - - -

*Okay, kinda funny story. All along we were planning for a camp of about 35-40 kids because that's what we had the year previous. Then, a week and a half before the trip I spoke with their pastor and he asked if we could handle 50. I thought about their building size, space issues, leadership, and sighed, "I think we could do that." Then we got to town and he said, "registration is up to 60 and there's a waiting list." By the end of the camp we had 72 kids come through. We never had more than 62 in a single day, and that was probably a good thing.

**Less enjoyable is how often her kisses involves her tongue hanging out. I don't know where she learns that from. I know she likes puppies, and I'm beginning to think she wants to be one.

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.

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.

choices

Last night my daughter choose eating stale potato chip crumbs off a very dirty youth room floor over being held in a loving embrace.

This morning I can't help but think of all the ways I, and others, have chosen the dirty crumbs over the love of the father.

She's far too young to see the parallels but I hope that one day she does. I also hope she chooses God over the mess around her.

But mostly, I hope she finds herself in a loving embrace if there is ever a next time she has to vomit up the dirt she's just eaten.

Grace and Peas

I sat down to read through 2 Peter yesterday. I didn’t get far. I stopped after the second verse.

It wasn’t because of a lack of time, or add, or the commencement of an emergency.

There is a word in verse two that needed some time of pondering and application.

As you read through second Peter verse one is all typical of the opening of an Epistle. In the first verse you learn who is writing the letter and whom they are writing to. And so we learn that Peter is writing a letter to people of faith.

Now the second verse of an Epistle is typically reserved for a greeting of some form. Peter stays true to the script, however he unloads a doozey of a greeting. Some authors go for the ever spiritual: “greetings” Some writers ramp up the holy talk with a phrase like: “Grace and peace.” Peter, never one to be outdone, takes it to the next level in his first letter: “Grace and peace be yours in abundance.” Then in his second letter he outdoes himself:

“Grace and peace be yours in abundance through the knowledge of God and of Jesus our Lord.”

That’s where I stopped.

I know God. I think.

I mean, I’ve read all about him. We’ve had some wonderful one-sided conversations. I even work for him.

I think it’s safe to say that I know him.

It’s also safe to say that I know Jesus. I know that Jesus and God are one, so as such if I know one I should know the other. I know that Jesus died for my sins, so I try and make sure that he didn’t have to die for too many. I know that Jesus is preparing a place for me in heaven. I know he loves me.

Is there more to know?

I like to think that I have grace and peace in my life. I certainly have peace because I know that death is not the end for me. Knowing God helps me remember that heaven awaits me when I die. I experience grace in that I’m not getting what my sins deserve. Despite being guilty of breaking the law I’m not going to jail. Thus I have grace and peace through the knowledge of God and of Jesus.

Normally, as I’ve read this letter many times, I skip right over this verse. I kinda check it off as having accomplished it.

Yesterday, however, that word abundantly jumped out at me.

The aforementioned level of grace and peace is so minimal—it is far from an abundant kind of grace and peace.

What would an abundance of grace and peace look like?

Have you seen something burdened by abundance?

I’ve seen ships burdened by an abundance of logs. They seem to be near sinking. There are too many logs to carry. Those ships are bursting with an abundance of logs.

I’ve seen a sponge loaded with an abundance of water. You can’t come into contact with it without getting wet.

I’ve had balloons burst in my face with an abundance of air. The balloon could not contain it all. Air got all over everything.

It’s seems abundance is barely containable if it’s even containable at all.

I’ve seen people bursting with an abundance of joy. You can’t get close to them without them dumping joy all over you. They cannot contain all their joy. You look at a person with an abundance of joy and you know right away that they have joy. It’s obvious to everyone around. As annoying as the joy abundant can be, you never look at them and go: “I bet something’s bothering them.”

Yet people’s first impression of is probably not that I have an abundance of grace and peace. Some days they may wonder if I have any at all.

I do not have an abundance of Grace and Peace.

Yet Peter wants us to have an abundance of both. He wants us to be so bursting with grace that we leak grace all over everyone we meet. We should have such an abundance of peace that when we enter a room peace is everywhere.

Are we exploding at the seams with grace and peace?

Do those who come into contact with us leave dripping with grace and peace?

Is my, or our, grace and peace contained, or is it all over the place?

What would it look like for a church to ooze grace and peace?

What would it look like for the church doors to open after the service on Sunday and have a tsunami of grace and peace hit the neighbourhood changing it forever?

It seems that knowledge of God and of Jesus should produce the abundance of grace and peace I lack. So I’m kinda left concluding that somewhere I’ve missed really knowing God.

Or maybe I’ve only been getting to know God in a past tense. God did this… God did that… What about what God is doing today? What about what God will do tomorrow? What about who God is today and tomorrow?

I'm hoping that as I go through Peter's second letter a little slower than usual, I'll learn something more about God that will help me know him better, and then maybe I'll be bursting with an abundance of grace and peace.

Rappin' with my Saviour

I struck up a conversation with God this morning as I walked to work. It was a beautiful morning with blue skies, dry air and sub freezing temperatures. The conversation was a casual one, the kind that you might have with a fried. I love that being justified makes way for such intimate moments with God—moments where we can simply chat, or rap with my Saviour as the kids would say back in the 90’s*.

I love conversing with God in this relaxed manner. Prayer stripped of its formal posturing feels more genuine. I feel closer to God in those moments: like I can more easily see Him.

But now after today, I’m wondering if I’m seeing God, or if I’m only seeing a presupposition of God.

Here’s what happened: while praying I found myself explaining to God what I said and why, and what I really meant by my comments—as if He didn’t understand me. I often only explain myself in that way when I feel as though I’m being misunderstood. It’s a classic sign that I’m rapidly becoming defensive. I often get defensive when I get insecure. Insecurity leads to defensiveness.

But why would I get that way with God?

Why would I feel insecure?

Why would I think He didn’t understand my heart?

Why would I feel the need to explain myself as if He didn’t know me?

My prayer revealed something. I have, despite my attempts at being genuine, made subconscious assumptions about Him. I assumed that He is like other people. With others I sometimes feel the need to explain what I mean. I know that I don’t always clearly communicate what’s in my heart and that leads to confusion.

My subconscious assumption of God was, ultimately, that He could only know of me what others knew of me.

I was imposing on God human limitations that He is not bound to.

God understands me. God knows my heart even when my words don’t properly reveal what’s in there. And God knew everything about me before I was born.

God knows me.

How often do we have inherent assumptions about God that are far from true? Do we, often without realizing it, assume things about Him that are false? I would never say that God doesn’t know my heart, but apparently, I act as if He doesn’t. While I would never say that God doesn’t understand me, I explain myself away to Him as if He doesn’t.

I don’t think God needs me to do that.

So what does your language with God reveal? What are your actions or words really saying? Are there subconscious assumptions you’re making about God that are far from true about His nature?

May we live out the truth of our great God and Saviour. May we be people who know God fully and not place our insecurities, and the limitations of humans on Him.



*or did the cool kids stop saying that in the 80’s and it was just that I was a big nerd who took ten years to catch on.

Jesus is my DJ

You know something I love? I love it when a good song is playing while I’m getting ready in the morning. The best songs are the ones that make me want to dance. This is no easy feat. It’s pretty tough to be motivated to shake what you’ve got when it’s 6am and you haven’t had your coffee yet.

This morning was one of those blessed mornings. I had far more energy then usual, despite trouble sleeping, because good tunes were blasting through the house. This made everything fun. Brushing my teeth was fun. Ironing my shirt was fun. Shaving was fun. Annoying my wife by having lots of energy was fun.

The vibe continued into the car where the radio was on. I heard a song on the radio this morning that I haven’t heard before. (I’m a bit surprised by this since the song has been out for a while.) I enjoyed the song quite a bit, and it‘s been stuck in my head all morning. It’s not the best song ever, but three reasons help one make an argument that it’s good:

1. It was upbeat and fun
2. It made me dance in my seat unashamed of what other drivers thought of me
3. It made me think.

However, it was a radio edit, and the original contains foul language. This surprised me. I somehow missed the objectionable lyrics. This is the funny thing about radio. If you’re like me and a bit innocently clueless, you can think that a song says something it doesn’t. What do you mean James Blunt wasn’t actually “flying high”?

What’s got me writing about this song is the lyrics of the chorus: “If God is a dj then life is a dance floor.”

Really?

Is God a dj?

Is He up in Heaven standing at some turn tables?

No, not really. While that mental image makes me smile I don’t think it’s an accurate picture of God.

Well, then what’s the point? End of discussion right? It’s just a silly pop song about nothing.

Maybe not.

I love the consequential language of the song. I’m convinced we don’t consider consequences enough -- especially when it comes to God. If God is, or acts a certain way, consequences follow. As the song says, if God is a do then life is a dance floor. God is ________ and ________ is a result.

How often do we get it backwards and infer attributes of God based on what we observe?

We see hurt and think God is a god who hurts. Or we see injustice and think that God can’t be just to allow it.

We forget that God is who He is.

And He was before the world existed.

Unfortunately the world is the way it is, partly, because there are other forces playing out. Sin changed how things happen in this world. Now we don’t only see good at work, but we see evil also. We can’t go backwards in this. We need to start with the truths of God, and then look to see them on display in the world.

God doesn’t so much react to the world as the world reacts to God.

And what are the truths of God? What do we know to be true of Him?

God is good.

God is just.

God is love.

God is patient.

God is kind.

God cares about people.

God knows us.

God delights in His creation.

And there are many more truths.

What then, are the consequences, or results, of these truths? How do each of these characteristics of God play out?

If God is good then what?

I encourage you to spend some time thinking about the truths of God and what that means for our world. I’ll be doing that as I dance to the tunes my dj is playing: as awkward and as clumsy a dancer as I am I’m sure He will be pleased.

Rain

A great song was playing on my stereo as I drove home last night from my parents. It was a David Crowder Band song with the following lyrics:

Rain down your love on us
Rain down your love
And rain down your grace
And cover me
Rain down your love on us
Rain down your love
And rain down your peace

It’s a beautiful song and I think many of us would want that to happen. I have often sung, prayed, and pleaded for God to rain down love, and grace, and peace. That would be so amazing. Last night when the song came on I was merrily singing along.

Right until a vehicle forced me onto the shoulder of the road.

For some reason, this other driver thought the center of the road was the best place for his vehicle. We came very close to exchanging some paint. My response probably wasn’t as holy as it should have been. My thoughts, and possibly my words, while not all that bad and menacing, fell into the category Jesus would call “bad.” They were words of unlove, or not love. Jesus said: “Anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment.” And, “anyone who says ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell.” I’m pretty sure I called this guy a fool, or worse.

And then I went back to singing:

And rain down your love on us
Rain down your love
And rain down your grace…

It was about that time the Holy Spirit stopped me with, “Are you listening to yourself?”

Suddenly, pressed upon my heart was the understanding that God desires this too, and that I have a part to play in this desired rain falling on the earth. Perhaps, God’s love and grace and peace are to be spread around and dumped on others by Christians like myself. I mean, if every one of us were as loving as we ought to be, the whole world would be flooded with love. Perhaps God’s love, and grace, and peace would be seen raining down all around if I wouldn’t be preventing that with a heart that’s quicker to hate then love.

Maybe I need to stop expecting God to send down what he’s longing for us to pour out.

And maybe I’m not the only one.

May we be the love and the grace and the peace that God has rained down.

Towers

I want to be close to God. I’m sure, at least I hope, I’m not alone in that. On days when God doesn’t seem so near, building a tower to get closer to him seems like a good idea.

Sometimes I’m tempted to think that those guys in Genesis 11 had a good idea. Only I’d build a tower with more noble intentions. Instead of trying to be famous like God, I’d build my tower so I could poke my head into heaven and have a look around.

I wonder how many of us are trying to get closer to God through our own efforts of elevation.

It seems like a good idea, doesn’t it? After all, where is God? He’s in heaven right? Now Heaven, as we all know, is up. Isn’t it?

Generally when we read the Bible we find all sorts of verses to support a “God’s up there and were down here” system of things. So we build towers, climb ladders, tie weather balloons to lawn chairs all to get higher and, therefore, closer to God – at least where God is supposed to be – to the place we understand is his home.

However, there are also verses that talk about God coming down and walking about the earth. What if he still does that? We’re often taught that God doesn’t do that anymore, but what certainty do these teachers have? What if God’s hiding out in some quiet corner of the woods, or the Rocky Mountains, or Coombs, or Central park just enjoying his creation? We are confident that, at the very least, his Spirit inhabits his people. God’s Spirit is on the earth.

So what if God isn’t just up there, but also down here? And what if we, through all our efforts of trying to get higher and closer to God, find ourselves somewhere in between? What if we’re missing God because we’re up in a tower out of touch from the dirt he’s walking on while yet not high enough to reach heaven?

Perhaps I should spend more time looking for God around here, and less time trying to climb my way to heaven.