river of life church blog

Living With(out) Fear

2012-02-05T19:41:00.003-07:00

There's an album by the metal band "Zao" titled "The Fear is What Keeps Us Here." Couldn't have said it (or screamed it, as Zao does in the final track) any better myself.

Fear is universal, and my, how numerous are the ways in which it manifests itself. Approach anyone--man, woman, or child--ask enough questions, and eventually you'll uncover something he/she is afraid of. There is a whole industry (advertising/marketing) bent on finding slick ways to make us afraid without our even knowing it, keep us afraid, or make us even more afraid than we already are. Some fears are subtle, some overt. Some of us may be phobics, others just scaredy-cats. And if those labels don't quite fit, fear goes by other names too, sometimes perverting perfectly good descriptors: cautious, tentative, risk-averse come readily to mind.

My point is, fear seems an awful lot like something we just have to live with. . . right? Because if we don't, then I'm afraid (no pun intended) I've been wasting a whole lot of my life, immobilized from doing the right thing, or mobilized to do the wrong one. All this because of my various fears.

It turns out, though, living with fear may not be all there is. The band and I read Psalm 3 this week, a chapter which ought to utterly crush our fear. Basically, the Psalm takes us through that moment when all seems hopeless, we come to the end of ourselves, and finally realize we aren't really in control. We realize, as David did, that salvation belongs to God.

There are those who spurn this last part. They say faith in God is a crutch, a weakness. They say all we really have is ourselves, and when that's not enough we can spin tales about a higher power to make us feel better about our circumstances, or we can just face it like men. In other words, their advice is to live with the fear.

Personally, I've lived with fear. If there's a better way, I'll take it. So, I'll keep my faith, along with Psalm 3's reminder that God is sovereign, and I am incredibly not.

the irony of excellence

2012-01-23T16:35:00.009-07:00

Can church be so "good" it discourages participation?

Excellence has become a modern buzzword for Christian events and services. I've been playing music in churches since I was young, and I can't tell you how many times I've heard people say things like: "our goal is excellence," or "we need to be polished so we're not distracting to the congregation" or "David played skillfully before the Lord, shouldn't we?"

It sounds like a good thing and a worthy goal because of the contrast. If you're not excellent, you're subpar or mediocre--at best, just okay. No one want those words to be used to describe his craft. But endorsing excellence overtly seems rather silly, because it almost communicates that there might be some other goal--almost as if someone might undertake something in hopes of doing it poorly.

Now I'm all for a good focus on excellence in a team environment. People in charge of things should get together occasionally and discuss ways to improve. But I do question why we make such a big deal of it in church, and that question raises the other I posed in the first sentence of this article.

There seems to be a modern movement in Christianity to try to produce quality stuff--stuff we hope can suffice as Christian alternatives to secular I think there are two noticeable arenas where this movement has become very pronounced: music and church services. I'm going to leave music aside for a moment, although I will point out an interesting blog article I read recently by Michael Gungor of the band "Gungor" in which he discusses at length the bizarre approach Christian artists have taken to music. If you're interested, find it here.

Instead, I'll focus on my area of familiarity: church services. I have participated in hundreds of church services over the years. I know what it's like to be onstage, and to feel the pressure of wanting a flawless presentation. I've also experienced countless services from the pew, and I know what it's like to feel bored at church. It really does feel like we've come to expect our church services to entertain us, at least in the evangelical church. We've done away with traditional liturgy in favor of a more "modernized" service, including updated music, more engaging messages, captivating multimedia presentations, etc. None of this is necessarily bad, and I'm not trying to say otherwise. I'm just pointing out a trend.

There is much we could say about this trend, but to start, I'm curious what happens when we finally attain that excellent and polished service we've always wanted. Will anyone else even want to participate? Or will we be too worried about polluting it with our own less-than-perfect voices, or too engrossed in watching the production unfold that we forget why we came in the first place?

I bring this up because in my view, a church service should be designed for participation. At least, that's what I've been led to believe over the years. Why else do we sing songs together and call it worship? Why are people encouraged to take notes during the message? Why did liturgy ever come about in the first place? The congregation should participate in the service, but they may not feel encouraged to do so if they feel somehow unqualified.

Just trying to explore the thought. There is certainly also a great danger in a haphazard approach to a church service. But it's interesting to me that the very thing a church service should engender could be threatened, at least in theory, when we achieve excellence. And the whole thought experiment begs other questions about the purpose of church, and the irreconcilability between an entertainment mentality and a participation mentality. Another time, perhaps. For now, I just wanted to ask the first question.

another Advent is upon us

2011-11-05T16:42:00.004-06:00

Nothing appeals to my appreciation of a slow, dramatic crescendo quite like Advent. Here we have the most profound of dichotomies--dark and light--juxtaposed within an ancient and beautiful framework of Church history and tradition. It is the month-long celebration of hope piercing through, the beginning of Life's conquest over Death.

We are coming up on something very meaningful, and for more important reasons than just the nice symbolism of it all. This thing we celebrate--this glorious thing--is human history. And because it's part of our past, it's also part of our present and our future.

I was first directed to this idea when reading N.T. Wright's "Surprised by Hope" In it, he notes that the resurrection of Christ is a historical event, something that happened in our world, so its effects must also be dealt with today. The book develops this idea, and others, very fully and inspirationally. You should read it.

A historical reality has to affect our present reality one way or another. To say otherwise would be to say the effects of the fall of Rome can be ignored, or the effects of the Holocaust can be ignored. We know that's not true; even those of us far removed from historical events of this magnitude study them in school, and they have brought our culture to its present state. They affect us somehow. Of course, you could argue the premise, if you wish, and say that the resurrection of Christ is myth--nothing more than a fairy tale or religion-starter fodder, and certainly not historical reality. But you have to recognize in making that argument, you are still affected by the idea and the claim to the contrary, to the point where you are opposing it. My starting point is always going to be a worldview which accepts the reality of Christ's resurrection. I can't make sense out of anything else in this world without it. Consequently, and necessarily, my current reality is also affected by the past reality of Christ's resurrection. I can't ignore it, in the same way I can't ignore any of the other events that have brought our world to its present state.

Quite naturally, Christ's birth carries with it similar implications. Can it be ignored? Not if you believe he was actually born (and most people seem to). But it can be trivialized, and that is the most clear and present danger, as I see it. Instead of concentrating our minds on the reality of Christ's birth and its consequences for humankind, we busy ourselves with its shadow--the abstraction, the symbolism. It's not about Christ anymore, so much as it's about the Christmas spirit, generosity, good-will, family, what have you.

This is one of the reasons we will be observing Advent again this year at ROL. It's a chance to go against our cultural thirst for instant gratification. It's a chance to slow down and reflect on the reality of Christ's birth and what it introduced into a fallen world. More importantly, it's a chance for us to go beyond paying lip service to keeping Christ central during the entire holiday season.

Mark your calendars. Nov. 27 is the first Sunday of Advent. I look forward to observing it with you and Christians around the globe.

Jeff

It's not who you are

2011-07-24T15:36:00.004-06:00

Does the American Church struggle with a guilt complex?

We are not persecuted, and on top of that, we live in a rich and free nation. Yes, we have concerns, but daily survival and safety aren't generally among them. If that thought doesn't make us somber, it should. But somberness is different than guilt, and I think too often guilt is the prevailing emotion we have when we consider our relative position in the world. And the problem with guilt is it usually motivates you to do the wrong thing, and even if it doesn't, it motivates you to do the right thing for the wrong reason.

Reflecting on this has reinforced a view I've been refining for some years now, starting with what you might call an axiom: it's not who you are, it's who you're becoming that matters. We know redemption is a process. That should tell us that no matter what our stage, station, or status, there's always a next step, which further tells us that success, from a more eternal perspective, probably has a lot more to do with the distance between our starting point and our ending point than it does with anything else.

I think back to Paul's words in 1st Cor. 7: "Let each one remain in the same calling in which he was called." It has nothing to do with our starting point--our initial endowment. Otherwise, Paul would have encouraged us to improve our environment, our status. Instead, he tells us to stay where we are, whether enslaved or free. He's pointing out this same principle.

Yes, I am deeply horrified by stories of persecution and want around the world, just as I am by all reports of senseless violence, pain and suffering. And I do feel obligated to improve those situations whenever and however I'm able. But I'm not sure guilt is the most appropriate response, given that we who were called while free are Christ's slave.

Personal Update

2011-06-28T22:11:00.004-06:00

As I reviewed the quantity and voice of some of my past posts on this blog, I couldn't help but pick up on the progression my thoughts have undergone since the blog's inception. What started as impassioned, verbose attempts to draw out discussion and opinion from other individuals soon became nothing more than a bulletin board of scribbled thoughts, and less frequent, less readable, and frankly, less accessible material from the few sermons I've preached.

What I noticed most was the waning frequency of the posts. It's amusing to me, because the blog has become exactly the opposite of what I had envisioned in those first weeks, and has in many ways, shared the fate of thousands of other blogs whose authors couldn't quite keep up with them. I comment on this not to apologize for or explain the lack of consistency; I'm really just fascinated to observe my attitudes and opinions within the last few years.

Particularly in the last 18 months, I have been subjecting myself to one of the most intense, exhausting probes to date into my beliefs. I tend to be a bit skeptical, so life (and maybe faith) naturally takes a bit more work for me. Some of you out there with similar personalities can appreciate that; I'm definitely used to this, and I expect it from myself and can often compensate. But I'm not quite sure even I was ready for the level of questioning I threw at myself. Maybe when I look back on this period of my life I'll see the fruit of it all, but right now, a year-and-a-half into it, I feel unbelievably tired.

So, when I read posts with a "pt. 1" in the title and no pt. 2 follow-up, and when I sense the shift in tone from colloquial and friendly to cold and academic, I have to chuckle a bit, because I know the backstory. I've felt a bit like a math student, who has always accepted as given the operations and theorems behind some of the most basic mathematical truths, and now has to prove them.

I thought mentioning these things might give some context to the blog. The message on Fathers' Day caught my attention because Doyle brought up some interesting points on questions and doubts that I found a little encouraging in the midst of this big project I seem to have on my hands. If you have some time and want to listen, you can find his sermon on the church website, entitled "Storms of Life" dated 6/19/2011:

http://riveroflifepocatello.com/Sundaymessages.aspx

Did the blog end?

2011-06-26T14:53:00.002-06:00

No. . .

But I have definitely forgotten about it. I've also been experiencing an extreme poverty of creative thought for about the last 6 months. My ideas have been sporadic, incoherent, and generally uninteresting.

So here's my attempt at performing CPR on our blog. Maybe I'll have something to say within the next few days or so.

priestly Christology, pt. 1

2010-08-03T07:37:00.004-06:00

We have been studying Hebrews as a church, which is awesome for me because it coincides with some studying I've been doing on worship theology. Hebrews is pretty key in worship theology, and was actually one of the first books I was directed to by some other material I was reading.

I felt like when I spoke on July 18, I really rushed through the introduction to Jesus' high priest role. So I wanted to hit the main thought again here.

The priestly Christology found in Hebrews probably has a bunch of very important implications for Christians, but the two I really zeroed in on were: 1) Jesus is our worship leader, and 2) Jesus is our mediator. The two are probably not that different in the abstract, but I did make a couple of distinctions for analytical purposes. For now, I will just cover the first.

For me, understanding that Jesus is our worship leader came from reading Worship, Community & the Triune God of Grace by Torrance. In this book, Torrance discusses something he calls the Incarnational Trinitarian Model of Worship. To be incredibly brief about this, essentially what I learned from Torrance is Jesus has two roles in this model: 1) he is the spoken word of forgiveness from God to humanity (the God-humanward movement) and 2) he is the perfect response of worship back to God (human-Godward movement).

Interestingly, the writer of Hebrews alludes to the same double-role when, in chapter 5:1 (and elsewhere), he discusses how the high priest offers "gifts and sacrifices." 9:14 defines "gifts and sacrifices" a little more: the gift is forgiveness, a clean conscience, redemption; the sacrifice of course, is the blood of Christ. Really, these could be taken as same things Torrance describes in his worship model as the dual functions of Christ. The gift of forgiveness is spoken in Christ, and Christ responds in perfect humility or sacrifice--the one and only perfect act of worship.

What this link ultimately means then, is that as we continue studying Hebrews and worship, and evaluating our worship and liturgy, we have to understand that we must come under the leadership of Christ in our worship. Of course, this has numerous practical implications. For me, this means in our liturgy that the song selection and other aspects of our services must point us to Jesus. It also means that our worship, far from just appealing to our own sensibilities and preferences, must be in line with Christ first.

We cannot hope to offer a perfect sacrifice of worship, as Jesus did. But as we come under his authority and leadership, we can learn to be better worshippers.

Jeff

God's kingdom

2010-05-25T22:42:00.003-06:00

Last Sunday I had the opportunity to speak about something I've been soaking in for quite a while: God's Kingdom and my (your) relationship to it. Luke 5 provides a picture of what God's invitation to us can look like by describing how he invited Peter to follow him and become a "fisher of men."

I started by characterizing the Kingdom of God. It's another one of those phrases that cloys many Christian listeners--so much so it has almost lost meaning. But it's not just a nice metaphor. God actually has sovereign rule over all that is his. And we live in a unique period in history, in that his kingdom as actually begun taking form (this happened when Jesus came to the world). Yet we do not yet see "all things put under his feet" as it says in Hebrews. Somehow, the kingdom has begun, but it's not complete or perfectly fleshed out. This is my understanding of what theologians refer to as the already-not yet eschatological tension.

My primary argument is Christians struggle to recognize the bigger picture of God's kingdom. A good example is the doctrine of personal salvation, which in many Evangelistic circles seems to be the point of every discussion. This can result in a shortsighted worldview, since salvation appears to really only be one part (though an important part) of God's kingdom.

Fortunately, God reminds us many times through Jesus' teaching in the gospel accounts that he is all about his kingdom. Jesus said in Luke 4:18 it was for this reason (to preach the Kingdom of God) that he was sent. Moreover, in Luke 5, we see an example of Jesus inviting Peter into the work of the kingdom. Encouraging and very relevant stuff for someone like me, who for the last couple of years has been completely frustrated with every aspect of my life.

There are 3 assertions about God we can draw out of this story.

1) Again, God is about his kingdom.

2) He is the inviter.

3) He goes before us (recall Jesus' words to Peter in the Matthew version are "follow Me")

And, primarily regarding the first and second assertions, there are 4 implications for us, the invited:

1) The invitation always involves helping build his kingdom.

2) We have to RSVP to the invitation.

3) We must watch for the kingdom to converge on our world.

4) God gives us our job.

The 3rd assertion about God (He goes before us), is not a subpoint: it's everything. This is the basis for every work and every miracle of the kingdom.

On Sunday, I tried to explain this concept by means of Augustine's notion of prevenient grace. I believe prevenient grace (grace that goes before, prior to salvation) is an example of how we follow God's leading. I must attribute my own knowledge of this concept to Mark Rutland, president of ORU, whose message on the subject I just recently heard.

The superlative example, however, is the resurrection of Christ. It was by his resurrection that the power of God's kingdom was unleashed on the world, and it is because of his resurrection that our faith, and the works we do for the kingdom, are not in vain (1st Cor 15). When we follow Christ, we get to share in the hope of our own resurrection, and we also get to enjoy the restoration of his kingdom as we beginning fleshing it out in the here and now--this time of already-not yet tension. NT Wright gives a full discussion of this concept in his book Surprised by Hope. A great read.

Hope anyone who reads this finds encouragement and peace. I know what it is like to "toil all night" without seeing the eternal value, and I think this is a good framework to begin understanding how God invites us into work with him.

Jeff

focus

2010-04-19T09:51:00.003-06:00

I'm reading a business book entitled "Focus" by Al Ries. In it, he argues at length that companies need to narrow their objectives and product lines. He provides a multitude of examples of companies that either became less focused and less profitable, or more focused and more profitable.

This focus notion easily applies on the individual level. Am I spread too thin? Am I going in too many directions? Are there too many things competing for my time and other resources? And am I ineffective as a result? These are the questions I've been asking myself.

Mars Hill pastor Mark Driscoll recently pinpointed a good example of someone who was very focused: Jesus.

In the past, I've taken Jesus' ministry to be something a little more on the unfocused side. The way the narratives read makes his destinations and interactions with people seem without pattern. But when Driscoll brings up a passage in Luke 4, I realized I was wrong.

Jesus has just finished a full days' worth of ministry, healing people and exorcising demons. It had been going on all night and was now morning, and he tries to withdraw to a "deserted place." Yet the crowds of people follow him and beg him to stay. Jesus response is one of focus: "I must preach the kingdom of God to the other cities also, because for this purpose I have been sent" (v. 43). He had the chance to do more good in Capernaum, but realized it didn't fit into his personal mission; and, beyond that, when he realized it he said no.

I need to get to that level of focus.

of success

2010-04-11T16:07:00.005-06:00

I caught something I'd never noticed in the book of Luke recently. It's in the familiar story of Jesus inviting Simon, James and John to follow him. Usually this passage is used as an example of what it takes to follow Jesus: dying to ourselves, leaving behind everything. People seem to like to quote v. 11: ". . .they forsook all and followed Him" to emphasize this point.

That is a key point of the passage. But I never really considered that Jesus' invitation comes on the coattails of a very successful fishing trip. Jesus had just helped them reel in probably one of their biggest catches ever (v. 9 states the people who witnessed it were "astonished" at the catch). They had just hit a load, and this could have meant a change of economic fortune for them. For sure it was a solid payday.

We don't know what their outlook was before they got the catch. Luke's narrative is pretty passive as far as this is concerned, but we can imagine an unsuccessful fishing trip would be pretty frustrating if a person's livelihood is at stake. Maybe Simon, James and John's fishing partnership was on the brink of failure. Maybe they needed a catch that day just to make ends meet. Regardless, I'm assuming even a small catch would have been a reward, and for it to be of the magnitude described in the passage, I bet the partners were overwhelmed.

An extension of this story into modern culture might go something like this: 3 friends own a small shop together. When the economy slowed in 2008, their business couldn't move its inventory and its financials looked pretty grim. Business was slower than ever and the company was near bankrupt. One morning, the 3 friends gave themselves an ultimatum. "Ok," one said. "If we don't end today in the black we have to call it quits. If we shut down now we can cut our losses."

A Hours went by. No sales. Not even a customer. One of the owners began to shut down the shop and switched off the open sign.

Just then, a recent acquaintance stopped by and offered some unwelcome marketing advice. "Turn that sign on!" he said. "You can't get customers if they don't know you're open!"

Then the strangest thing happened. Customers began to walk in. First one, then a couple more. Before long, the shop was filled with them. And they weren't even looking for deals. Items were being pulled off the shelf in bulk, and the owners could hardly keep up with all the sales. They kept the shop open several hours late, and that day ended up being the most profitable day they had ever had. They couldn't believe it.

Cheesy, I admit. But it helps me recognize something.

When I achieve a "success"--whatever it may be--I usually take that as a sign that I'm on the right track and should keep going. The bigger the success, the stronger my resolve in my path. In the story above, why in the world would the business owners quit now? They've just had their best day in retail ever.

But is this wrongheaded thinking? In the Luke story, Simon, John and James left their profession immediately after a tremendous success. Why? Because they had the opportunity for success on a much grander scale: catching men instead of fish--participating in the work of the Kingdom instead of the work of this world. And Jesus seemed to use the material success of a gigantic fish catch as a metaphor, as if to say: "if you think that was awesome, come see what else we can do."

I wonder if I've ever had a fish catch like the one these three experienced. Then I wonder if by blessing me with it, Jesus was really trying to invite me to do something much bigger. If so, I'm afraid I might have been busy basking in the success of the fish catch and planning my next trip.

spirit and truth

2010-01-25T11:44:00.002-07:00

Oops, I think I may have forgotten about our blog.

I wanted to post a brief summary about what I spoke on yesterday morning: worship in spirit and truth. This is a phrase I hear people in the Church using frequently, but frankly I have never understood it. The phrase comes in John 4 while Jesus is talking to the Samaritan woman, but after listening to Driscoll's teaching on idolatry, I believe a working definition of "true worship" comes out of Romans 1 (worship of the Creator rather than the created).

The central point is that "spirit and truth" is a necessary pairing, because the first leads to the second. Once we've been born into the spirit realm (recognizing that this in itself requires the work of the Holy Spirit - 1st Cor. 12:3), we undergo a process of spiritual maturation, wherein we are postured to begin understanding the things of God (truth). Truth always comes by the Spirit's revelation.

This concept has several implications for the modern Church. The problem we see with the Samaritan woman is her preoccupation with material issues: 1) the deepness of the well, 2) Jesus having nothing with which to draw water, and 3) the theological debate of where to worship (Piper). Because we know from Romans 8:7 that the carnal mind is antithetical to the things of God, I argued that the fixation on physical things has a "crowding out" effect on the things of God, leaving us susceptible to idolatry. Like the Samaritan woman, sometimes we become preoccupied with trivialities (e.g. where to worship). In the modern Church, I think our physical fixations are sometimes manifested in concerns over style and our fear of irrelevance. This also happens at the individual level. Under this model, we adopt "functional saviors"--things we believe will get us out of our personal hells and into our heavens (Driscoll).

Secondly, we have to know whom or what we worship. Jesus challenges the Samaritan woman on this same point in John 4, after she throws out question of where to worship. Christians worship the triune God, and we should exert ourselves to understand what that means.

Another key implication is on the value of corporate worship. Because revelation of truth comes by the Spirit, discovering the truth requires as many gifts of the Spirit operating as possible (see 1 Cor. 12:4-11 for a list of spiritual gifts) This is why gathering together for moments of worship is critical.

This is obviously a very brief summary, so I'd like to reference a few resources I used in case anyone wants to do more research.

John 4:7-24 - main text
Romans 1
1st Cor. 2:9-16, 12:1-11
2nd Cor. 5:17
Teaching by Mark Driscoll on idolatry
Liturgical Theology by Simon Chan
Sermon by John Piper on John 4

Thanks for reading,

Jeff

a new view, in brief

2009-09-09T20:06:00.003-06:00

When I was younger, I thought that being a Christian meant being outraged by immoral behavior. I am now on a personal mission to understand people and their perspectives before reacting to their behavior. I'm calling it "project empathy."

the 'eternal perspective' concept again

2009-07-29T20:30:00.004-06:00

I had the chance to speak last Sunday on having an eternal perspective. In the few days since then, it's been fascinating to watch myself try to live out my challenge. And with my heightened awareness, I'm becoming increasingly perturbed to recognize how often I allow myself to lose eternal perspective and revert back to my material perspective.

A good metaphor is the lost hiker who ascends the high point to see something she cannot see otherwise. What does she do when she gets to the top? Does she close her eyes? Does she scamper back down, freightened by the height of her new vantage point? Or does she take a long gaze from it, memorize the view and then take to the descent with renewed purpose and strategy?

The purpose of perspective is to gain a clearer understanding of reality. A view from a high point allows the lost hiker to pick out the easiest path, determine her position, and plan her destination. It wouldn't make sense for her, after having made the ascent, to ignore the purpose for having done so. Yet I'm finding that this is so often what I do. I receive revelation, God gives me vision, and I think sometimes my response is the equivalent to closing my eyes (or at least cutting short my gaze) or even running away scared.

Doesn't make much sense. I guess me new question is: where am I in the process? Am I making the ascent, trying to figure out what to do with the view, or making the descent and starting out with a new (and better) picture of where I'm headed?

Not sure yet.

Jeff

just a question

2009-06-23T19:54:00.004-06:00

I often wonder what my outlook on life would be like if I had never experienced grace. In such a state, what would my view of someone be if that someone asked me "If you were to die today, do you know if you would go to heaven or hell?"?

I'm still alive

2009-05-14T22:16:00.001-06:00

I'll explain later.

maximizing under constraint

2009-03-01T16:58:00.004-07:00

I've spent the last couple of months really trying to focus on people.

When I was in high school and college, I was what you might call a recluse. I did my best to ignore other people, and I only dealt with them when I had to use them to get something done. Sound a little selfish? Yeah, it does to me too.

So as I mentioned in the last update, I've been making more of an effort to spend time with people, and not just for favors. I'm discovering the most difficult part of this is the time constraint. The simple reality is that there is never enough time in a day to say and do everything that really needs to be said and done. There is never enough time to finish the conversation, or complete the thought. Time is the ultimate constraint. So how do we maximize under this constraint?

I've been studying the Synoptic Gospels (Matthew, Mark and Luke), and learning a little bit about how Jesus operated his ministry. It's kind of fascinating to note that this man--God himself--picked just 12 people to really pour his life into. It speaks volumes to the value of relationships that Jesus would have chosen to give so much to so few. Why didn't he take the time to meet and greet everyone on the planet? Wouldn't that have made it easier for us to believe? I mean, how hard would it have been for God to get everyone in the world together at some gigantic worldwide conference, show off a few miracles, shake everyone's hand (or give them a hug if that's their thing), and just call it good? Not hard at all, I wouldn't think.

But that's not what he did. Instead, he sent a man to us--someone who shared the burden of human experience, and someone that worked with his disciples on a personal level. He didn't spend his days trying to meet as many people as he could. He got a few guys together, and lived life with them. These are the relationships he focused on. Jesus dealt with the time constraint by multitasking. He just hung out with his crew. I love it.

This argument has the potential to be taken to the extreme. I could, for example, use it in it's purest form to convince myself to stop meeting people and caring about them. For example: I won't have time to really develop a meaningful relationship with him anyway. . .why waste the time? Or, I'd really like to listen to her problems, but she's not "one of my 12," so I'm really not obligated to.

It's definitely something to watch out for, especially for those of us that have the tendency to withdraw from people anyway. I think the thing to remember is that developing quality relationships with people in one's "circle of influence" is the really just the best use of time. This doesn't mean leaving others out, it just means starting with what one has: start small.

I'd love to hear your thoughts.

people matter

2008-12-30T20:27:00.009-07:00

In my June 26 post, I was trying to muddle my way through Jesus' commandment to love. The first part of this love commandment makes sense: love God. God gave us life, he gave us salvation. We ought to love him. It only makes sense.

But the second part doesn't always make sense to us. We're told, in addition to loving God, to love each other as we love ourselves.

I don't want to try to broadefine (that's my made-up word for trying to broaden a definition into a perversely general form ) "love" to prove that loving people can be done. Loving people is hard, because sometimes they're pretty darn unlovable. But I do want to revisit the topic because I'm undergoing a fairly remarkable and drastic purging of formerly held attitudes, one of which was that other people don't matter that much.

There's a common acronym for TEAM: Together Everyone Achieves More. I've always thought it a little cheesy, but every part of my life is confirming this immutable truth. There was a time when I thought a little bit too highly of myself, and that I didn't really need other people. What I'm finding out as I meet more people is how valuable their knowledge and experience is. There are millions of things to learn just by meeting a new person, and there's seven billion of us here. When we are with people and trying to accomplish something together, we become a monolith of thought and experience. I love it.

So what I'm positing is this: there's logic in the second part of the love commandment. God must have known we're at our best when we're among other people, so he must have known it would have been wise to command us to love one another. Loving one another is the most expedient route to the most efficient team. It's not always easy, but it's always worth the cost. Without it we forfeit the opportunity to maximize our potential, and that is the tragedy of living by the "go-it-alone" mentality.

What I'm saying is I'm coming around. I used to not value the company or discourse of other people, and I was missing out. So, I'm doing away with that attitude. People simply matter too much. I guess I've decided to be a people person.

Now you're probably thinking I was just trying to bait you into commenting. There was far more behind this post than that, but I would sure enjoy reading your thoughts.

gift exchange

2008-12-10T17:20:00.005-07:00

I just unloaded a whole lot of negativity towards gift exchange in a conversation with one of my closest confidants. It's not really the typical anti-materialistic animosity towards the holidays many people profess to have this time of year. Though I certainly share those sentiments, I've got another bone to pick with this season.

You see, I've been accused of being an old Ebenezer when it comes to the holidays. I love the idea of Christmas--the festivities, the time with family; but, I have a difficult time with gift exchange. Giving the perfect gift is fun. Getting something you like is fun. But the pressure of communicating what you want, and the process of unwrapping it in front of a group of people is almost unbearable. Then there's the whole futility factor: the word "exchange" itself literally expresses the nullifying effect of giving something only to receive something else. If allowed to, the whole process becomes just another holiday formality.

It's said that gift exchange is supposed to be some type of symbolic expression to commemorate God giving us Jesus, "the first gift of Christmas." Our culture has sentimentally conjured up this thing we call the "Christmas spirit," centered around overt generosity and, in many cases, an expectation of reciprocity.

I have trouble seeing the symbolism. My problem with it is that the whole notion of "exchange" implies this thing of reciprocity. Often, receiving a gift from someone without having something to give in return feels awkward; until a gift is given, there is an outstanding debt to repay. It can be very subtle, but I'm sure many people can relate.

I understand this is coming across very cynical, and I know that there are many of us that don't treat gift-giving this way. Plenty of people see Christmas as an opportunity to bestow love and generosity, and really do not expect anything in return. But I'm guessing there are a lot out there that do see it as a true exchange--giving and getting all at once.

And that's what I'm trying to point out here. Our practice of gift exchange is an impure symbolic representation of what happened at Christmas. God did give us a wonderful gift, and His only expectation was that we accept it. Having received the gift, to now scramble to try and find something to give back is at it's very core faithlessness. It's trying to find another way to God besides Christ.

Maybe this is a fruitless rant. In truth, if we call what we do at Christmastime something other than "exchanging" gifts--say we just call it "giving" gifts--all of the sudden the symbol retains it's original meaning. I suppose there's an argument to be made that I'm just splitting hairs here. But it's worth asking myself how I view the practice. What do I expect in return for my gifts? If I do expect something in return, how is my celebration at Christmas symbolic of Jesus?

Humbug.

Jeff

great expectations

2008-11-22T12:53:00.002-07:00

Thanks to Dickens for leaving behind a great book and a great phrase.

I have just discovered something disturbing about myself: I'm okay with mediocrity (it helps to start saying it out loud).

I've made "showing up" my own brand of success, silently congratulating myself for being such a selfless donator of my time. Well, at least I'm here, I say to myself. Those people didn't even come. The problem is, when showing up is all it takes to succeed, what do I do once I've arrived? I mean, once you've won the game, is there any reason to keep playing?

I think I'm coming close to pinpointing some of my motivation problem. I do not have great expectations. Instead, I set the bar so low that it's nearly impossible not to succeed. Without great expectations and nearly unreachable goals, it makes the epic life decidedly unepic.

The reason I'm discussing this is because so much of it relates to how I see my role in "The Church" (by "The Church" I simply mean whatever community of believers I happen to belong to at any given moment) and the post a couple months ago about living strategically. We were made to live epic lives, which is not possible when there is no conquest or war. Setting goals is great, but if the goals themselves are not great, achieving them means nothing.

This is a huge subject, and there's a lot more to it. But I wanted to introduce the idea and confess that until now, I have had a misunderstanding of what it means to achieve and succeed, and I'm afraid I have severely overestimated myself.

If anyone out there has any additional thoughts, I'd be glad to read them.

Jeff

faith and feeling

2008-10-20T21:44:00.003-06:00

I'm a huge C.S. Lewis fan. I've been working my way through "Mere Christianity" for quite a long time now, trying my hardest to take it slow and think through what he's writing, while at the same time wanting to gulp down more and more of his analogies.

I read the chapter on faith last week. If you look at the post from Oct. 6, you'll recall I was in a bad mood.

Lews speaks to the issue of mood swings in the faith chapter. I'll reproduce an excerpt here: ". . . Faith . . . is the art of holding on to the things your reason has once accepted, in spite of your changing moods." It seems to me that the claim relies on two premises: first, that reason is the basis of the choice to accept whatever "things" you believe (assuming you believe anything at all), and second, that your moods will change. I like this perspective because it provides a place for both logic and emotion in regards to faith. Do I have faith in God? Sure do. Do I always feel like I have faith in God? Nope.

What inspires me about Lewis's definition of faith here is that faith itself is separate from the feeling. Feelings come and go, but faith is something far deeper. So, the measure of my faith isn't how good I'm feeling; it's whether or not I still believe what I've said I believe when war, famine, and pestilence (figuratively speaking) come. Even better, the notion of "blind faith" doesn't really apply since reason has already overcome doubt (again, assuming I have any beliefs at all).

All this is to say: I'm encouraged. For years I've been basing my faith in God on the feeling. When I screw up and do something stupid, it takes me days to regain my "faith" because I think I have to wait for the good feeling to return. So I am now at the point of "[recognizing] the fact that [my] moods change" (another quote from the faith chapter), and I can now move on to the next part of the prescription. More to come about that.

Appreciate your thoughts and comments.

Jeff

fire

2008-10-06T20:53:00.002-06:00

In many ways my negligence towards the blog has been just another symptom of an overall crappy month. It has been crappy because of me. God does not change. When I have a "bad" day, week, month or year, it's because of me. I hate that I have the power to affect my own attitude. I love that God is never the problem, because then I at least know which of us needs fixing.

I'm really glad Bernice shared those lyrics in her comments to the last post. The last 10 minutes have been the divine confluence of a series of thoughts that have all had the flame metaphor burning at the core. I'm going to share them now.

Let me start with a book I've been reading. It's called "The History of God" by a reknowned religious scholar named Karen Armstrong. Let me tell you, this book will mess with your theology. To start, it's not clear what the author's own views are, though she attempts to explain them in her introduction. Basically the book is exploring the "god" of the 3 major world religions: Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. Maybe a better way of describing it is the book is exploring the human perception of God in all 3.

So far I'm just reading about the God of Judaism. It has been fascinating to me to learn about the culture and the social context in which God revealed himself to the Israelites. These were polytheistic times. The Babylonians believed in a number of deities, and the Israelites would have too. Then they made a covenant with God, and vowed to serve him above all the others. That was unprecedented for the time, and the whole Old Testament records the Israelites' struggle in upholding their end of the covenant, and continual dabbling with other gods.

This is where the flame metaphor comes in. God asked for complete and unconditional loyalty. He asks nothing less of us. This is why a flame is such an appropriate image: something is either on fire or it's not. I'm not a chemist or a physicist, but as I understand it, there is a combustion point of every material. Once ablaze, we say it's "on fire." There are varying degrees of heat, of course, but there's still the point at which something catches fire.

Nearly every song I've heard on my computer's playlist for the last little while has been about this very thing. Right now it's Delerious: "All the Way." Am I going all the way with God? Are you? You've either been set on fire or not. If not, then pray the lyrics of the old song "Lord light the Fire Again." That's what I'm going to do right now.

The best part is, fire spreads.

Jeff

Update: Strategic Living

2008-09-15T21:26:00.002-06:00

Nothing's been formalized, but in my head I have pretty much divided my life up into the following responsibility quadrant: home, work, ROL, and me. They're all pretty self-explanatory, right? "Me" sounds a bit egotistical, I admit, but honestly, if I don't take time for introspection and spiritual growth, not much else seems to matter.

I'm starting small.

Let me tell you how foreign the ideas of goalsetting and listmaking are to me. For about 10 years, I was the type of person who remembered almost everything. I never missed appointments, classes, or work because I forgot (overslept? yes). I never forgot homework due dates or test days. And I never wrote a schedule down, used a planner, or set a goal.

But I'm changing. And as evidence of the change, I'll let you in on one of my small personal goals. Let's call it the first:

1.) Develop dexterity with iCal

There you go, it's out there. I've articulated it. Now you all need to hold me accountable.

Tell me one of yours and I'll do the same for you.

Jeff

living strategically

2008-08-25T23:52:00.005-06:00

I've been on this planning and strategizing kick for the last couple of weeks. Part of the motivation for said "kick" is a sudden realization that without plans, dreams and goals generally remain unreached. And, I do not want to be guilty of treating the dreams and goals God has given me trivially. So, I'm embracing a new way to be. For the purposes of the blog, I'm going to call it "strategic living." The essential idea is to examine all of the things for which I am responsible, set measurable and practical goals in each, and develop a plan to reach them. What's revolutionary is what this lifestyle is doing for my time allocation; any time spent not in pursuit of a goal, whatever it may be, is time wasted. So, as long as I have an understanding of my goals, and a basic outline of the steps it will take to reach them, it is becoming increasingly difficult for me to waste time. It is just too painful to spend any one moment not in pursuit of a goal.

Since beginning to live strategically, however, I've been encountering this massive gray area: where is the line between faith and fervor?

Strategy is good and necessary. One can imagine the amount of planning it took for Moses to lead the Israelites, for Solomon to govern his kingdom, or for Paul to establish the early church. And God has given us the mental capacity to be pragmatic. There really should be no question that God has designed us to live our lives with order and purpose. Yet I think I've had this thought that living by faith requires the adoption of a sort of hippie lifestyle--one that involves a haphazard approach to decision-making, and a distaste for organization. I've reduced faith to a total rejection of order, cloaking it in rhetoric that claims to "put God in a box" whenever discussions of organization arise. But all you have to do is look at a pinecone, or take a math class to know that God likes pattern and order. He may not always operate within their confines, but his creation screams beauty in chaos, order in disarray. Still, we know faith requires some element of the unknown (i.e. God's promise to Abram), and action when no discernible plan or strategy is in place.

So my question again is this: when does my fervency to plan and achieve goals begin to exhibit a lack of faith?

a much needed break

2008-08-07T19:04:00.002-06:00

I've spent the last several weeks living the paradox of Hebrews 4:11.

"Let us, therefore, make every effort to enter that rest, so that no one will fall by following their example of disobedience."

I'm confused by the coupling of "effort" and "rest" in the same statement, especially because what's implied is that entering into God's rest (the rest to which this verse refers) requires effort.

What's interesting to me is that for the last several weeks I have been exhausted in every way. I had a week off from work (this week), and to get to the point where I could take the week off, I had to redouble my efforts at work. I'm also trying to find a way of taking a break from other things, which will require a similar level of effort to make happen. Why should rest take work? Why should "God's rest" require effort to enter? What's the broader theme of Hebrews 4:11?You will need to read the passage on your own to identify the antecedents and place it in correct context. What are your thoughts?

Thanks for waiting patiently for this update. Time simply goes by too fast sometimes.

why do we worship together?

2008-07-19T20:14:00.003-06:00

I've been questioning the value of corporate worship.

If I could have, I would have recorded a conversation I had about this last week, since it was that conversation that squeezed a lot of thoughts out of me. I'll just have to do my best to reconstruct some of those thoughts now.

At the core of my questioning was a perceived disjunction between what I understand to be the purpose of church (specifically, Sunday morning services), and the result of our Sunday morning worship. The purpose of our Sunday morning services is manifold, but of course one of them, in my opinion, has to be the development of lateral relationships between us. If we come to the service and truly experience God, that's a wonderful thing. But you don't have to be with people to experience God. We can experience God alone in the wonder and mystery of nature, or in the quiet solitude of our homes early in the morning.

So why bother coming together on Sunday morning? Because we get energy and encouragement from being with other believers. That's the easy answer. The truer answer for some of us may be routine. Or because some of us still believe that God likes us better when we come to church. Blech. . .what a thought. I'm afraid all have been true for me at one point or another.

My argument last week was this: if we come on Sunday purely for personal edification and worship, that is in fundamental opposition to the chief aim of a corporate service. Even if we have what we later call a "good service," have we not missed something if no relationships between us were strengthened? If the worship and the word were both amazing, and we leave feeling closer to God than ever before, but we don't feel closer to one another, was the service everything it could have been?

That's a tough question. It's hard to say anything can be better than getting closer to God, and there's no biblical justification (that I know of) for the opposite view. If getting personally closer to God requires, or is even just made easier by, a corporate setting (live worship music, listening to the sermon together, etc.), then that's a good thing. But is that really everything Sunday morning can do for us (now by us I'm referring to ROL)? I truly hope we are all personally growing closer to God as a result of coming to church on Sundays, but I also hope we're coming to encourage others, as much as to be encouraged ourselves.

I feel like this is a scramble of ideas. So let me try to unify them with something I just read. I trust God's words to convey thoughts far more than my own: This is in II Chronicles 5 (NKJ). Context? Solomon has just finished building the temple, and the ark has just been placed in the inner sanctuary.

13 indeed it came to pass, when the trumpeters and singers were as one, to make one sound to be heard in praising and thanking the Lord, and when they lifted up their voice with the trumpets and cymbals and instruments of music, and praised the Lord, saying: "For He is good, For His mercy endures forever," that the house, the house of the Lord, was filled with a cloud, 14 so that the priests could not continue ministering because of the cloud; for the glory of the Lord filled the house of God.

Has that ever happened at ROL? If so, I'm afraid I was busy playing songs on my guitar. Don't get me wrong, I believe God has done amazing things in our services. And we have the promise of God being present when we gather in His name. I'm not questioning that aspect. But at the same time, I don't think we've experienced God's glory that way. Bummer.

My thoughts then: corporate worship tends to facilitate personal edification. That's a good thing, but it does seem to violate the basic purpose of corporately gathering to worship.

My thoughts now: corporate worship gives us the opportunity to feel the weight of God's glory! When we reach the level of unity in praise and thanksgiving the Israelites did that day, look what happens. Personal edification, corporate edification. . .they're both trivial compared to the possibilities of experiencing God's glory.

I'll be honest, I didn't see where this was going when I started writing. But I think I've just clarified something here. We worship corporately because that setting allows for God's glory to fall in a way that no personal setting does (or seems to do). Seems simple, I guess. It gets complicated when we actually try to praise "as one."

Thanks in advance for your comments.

Jeff

of uninspiration

2008-07-08T19:30:00.003-06:00

I was just eating dinner and thinking about why I haven't updated the blog in a while. I was trying to tell myself it was because I haven't been "inspired" by anything in a while.

Then I realized something: I use that excuse all the time! Or at least I use some variation of it all the time. I've been down on myself for the last couple of weeks because I've lacked motivation and initiative in several areas of my life. There's nothing worse, in those moments of lethargy, than feeling uninspired as well. But how do we know when we're inspired? It seems like one of those paradoxes; maybe we have to experience the absence of inspiration (uninispiration) before we can recognize inspiration itself--sort of how you can't recognize light without first experiencing darkness. If that's true, than thank God for uninspiration!

Anyway, I think that's a huge obstacle to me, inasmuch as it relates to the "Git-R-Done" concept. I feel like unless I have something great or profound to say or do, it's better to not say or do anything. Seems like a crappy approach to life, and an even crappier approach to God. I think the true test of faith is how we act when we do feel uninspired. Do we just give up? Or do we keep it up?

What do you do?

Thanks for reading.

Jeff

why people?

2008-06-26T09:52:00.004-06:00

Love God and love people. This is what we're told to do somewhere in Matthew.

I guess I don't have much to add to this, so this will be short. Mostly, I'm just going to pose this question: why are people so important? Everything we believe hinges on a personal relationship with God. That same idea was central to Luther's revolution. I might even go so far as to suggest (for the sake of argument) that salvation would be easier without people. If there were no other people to deal with, would we struggle with sin as much? There would be no cause or occasion for gossip, offense, stealing, adultery, murder, etc. This is not to say there wouldn't be sin (Adam and Eve did a fine job sinning without other people around), but there would be fewer opportunities for it.

However, there would also be fewer opportunities to grow! Every uncomfortable, unpleasant, and seemingly unnecessary interaction with each other is what gives us the chance to learn how to love. Someone once said (sorry I can't attribute this properly) that our time on earth is practice for heaven. If that's true, then I say let's have a good practice!

There may be more about this topic to come. This was all kind of on the fly, based on a conversation I had last night. Let me know in your comments why you think people are so important. Oh, and the answer to my cheesy riddle on the last post is the Fibonacci sequence.

Jeff

half of an insight

2008-06-18T06:54:00.004-06:00

Last night I had a thought about the David Crowder song "We Win!" we've sung during services a couple of times now, and the associated story of Joshua and the battle of Jericho.

I think we probably all know the story: after the 40 year wilderness wandering, the Israelites cross the Jordan River and encounter the city of Jericho, the first obstacle to claiming the Promised Land (besides the Jordan River itself). God tells Joshua to take the fortified city by marching around it 7 days in a row (accompanied by soldiers, priests, and the ark of the covenant, of course), and on the 7th day, to make 7 laps. After the 7th lap, God instructed Joshua to have the priests blow their horns and the people "shout with a great shout." Simple enough.

What I realized last night, for the first time (and believe me, I have heard this story many times) was the order in which the events take place. In our modern culture, which Daniel talked about a few weeks ago, we have a very linear way of thinking. Think about it: "I" before "e" except after "c." Don't eat your dessert before the main meal. Don't try to get the cart before the horse. Work before play. We are a read-from-left-to-right society, and we approach everything with that perspective. We think that's organization.

That's why the Jericho story sticks out to me. God had them do it backwards! He had the Israelites shout their victory before the walls came down. Just like Crowder's song lyric: "We're gonna shout loud, loud until the walls come down." What!? "Until" implies a lack of finality. What did they have to cheer about? The walls were still standing when they shouted for victory. Can you imagine a sporting event where fans cheered before the big moment? Try. You know those moments in a football game where the running back gets the hand-off? He busts through the defense. . .an amazing dodge here. . .a spin with some fancy footwork. . .and he's off. . .30 yd. line. . . the fans stand. . .20 yd. line. . .the fans murmur, anticipation growing. . .10 yd. line. . .will he make it?. . .still a few more tackles to dodge. . .wait!. . .the crowd's gone crazy!. . .the announcer calls the touchdown!!. . .the fans are shouting and hugging each other for joy!!!. . .the sound of their cheers is deafening!!!!!

Sounds bizarre to me, but that's exactly what God had the Israelites do. He had them shouting for victory before anything happened! Apparently, God didn't understand that you have to wait for the victory before cheering. . .

Wait, God already knew the outcome, didn't he? And He let the Israelites enjoy the thrill of certain victory, for a whole week. That must have been pretty satisfying.

I don't really have any more insight into this (hence the title of today's blog), but it really struck me last night. Can someone help me out with the relevance? The only thing I can think of right now is somehow we've got to get out of this reactionary, linear type of thinking. God is bigger than that. Why wait for the outward sign of victory (i.e. the "walls" flattened) before celebrating the victory? We've already won. We've already won! And because of that, we have hope that does not disappoint.

Other interpretations are welcome. And you will get extra points if you can detect the method to my mad use of exclamation points in the last 4 lines of the 4th paragraph. :) The answer is forthcoming.

But in all seriousness, be encouraged. We win!

Jeff

a look in the mirror

2008-06-10T22:00:00.003-06:00

Okay, it's confession time.

About a week-and-a-half ago on Sunday morning, we played the song "Undignified." I blabbed a bit about the biblical context of the lyrics and challenged us to push the limits of our typical patterns of worship. It was all relevant, and I'm not a bit sorry for saying any of it, but I admit I feel a little bit hypocritical making the challenge behind the safety of my guitar and mic.

What am I confessing here? That I am unbelievably challenged in the area of demonstrative worship! I used to chalk it up to the introverted personality and unemotional demeanor. But last week I was thinking about how big God is, and how small our words of praise really are. Song lyrics have incredible meaning, and when sung with the right attitude must be beautiful to God. BUT THEY'RE STILL JUST WORDS. They can't possibly capture all of God's glory. We sing them because that's all we have.

Or is it all we have? I'm beginning to realize that worship must involve every part of our being. Singing words and being cognizant of their meaning is important. But so are our emotions! And emotions are demonstrated through action. David chose to demonstrate emotion by dancing around in a linen ephod. To his wife, he looked like a moron. But I'm pretty sure that is closer to an attitude of true worship than I have ever had, and that's an incredibly humbling thought. I wonder what it's going to take for me to be okay with appearing undignified before people.

Well, I'm glad to have that off my chest. Can anyone relate?

Since we're on the subject, what's the one thing you feel "pushes" your comfort level in worship? Mine is raising hands. . .makes me feel very uncomfortable. Someone might see me, you know. :)

Jeff

A Thought

2008-05-30T07:32:00.003-06:00

Sorry for the delayed update.

Here's something I've been thinking about: why do we think God thinks like us? Or maybe the better question is, why do we act like God thinks like us? This is going to be a difficult thing to try to conceptualize, but I am going to try nonetheless.

I've had a frustrating week, but it's been the little things that have frustrated me. . .the little things. You all know what types of things I'm talking about: details that are so unimportant in the eternal scheme that when you really reflect on them, you find yourself shocked that you ever even cared about them. I hate that I'm affected by these trivialities!

What I'm getting at is this: our distinction between the important and the unimportant, the trivial and the nontrivial, is our distinction. Take what follows for what it's worth, as I have no concrete theological basis for what I'm about to say, but I don't believe God operates in these distinctions. The basis for that argument is in the way God views sin. We know God sees all sins, big and small, as the same evil that separates us from Him. God does not distinguish between what we see as big and small sins. Why do we think he distinguishes between the big and the small in other parts of our lives? Maybe we don't show this outwardly or even think this explicitly, but do we believe in some corner of our minds that God doles out different levels of generosity, based on the "seriousness" of the situation? Different levels of blessing? Different levels of healing?

I think what I'm trying to say here is that I've been hung up on details lately, yet I've seen God really come through for me. His blessings have been there, even in situations that in retrospect seem so absurdly unimportant. I guess the relevant point for ROL might be that somehow we've got to convince ourselves the way we think about gifts, healings and blessings is probably nowhere close to the way God thinks about them. I think God is so big that what we see as "big" and "small" are pretty much the same to Him. . .kind of like how a billionaire sees another $1M pretty much the same as another $1K.

That took more words than I hoped. Sorry. Maybe you can help me boil down some of these points a little more briefly. And let's keep breaking the ice. . .what's something you do that you feel betrays your age (something you feel either childish doing, or more mature doing)? Mine is the way I drink out of a glass. If I don't put every effort into avoiding it, I will end up with a mustache of whatever substance is in the glass. That of course makes me feel juvenile. :)

Thanks for reading.

Jeff

Continued

2008-05-19T22:17:00.003-06:00

Well, this is off to a good start. I'm excited about where this is headed.

I'm going to try to run with Maria's comment here, and this whole concept of the River of Life being the source of power and healing for the infirm. I really think it may be the broader theme that could tie some of these ideas together.

I originally outlined my interpretation of the River of Life being a place where all our streams merge--a body of water brimming and rushing with all the different talents and perspectives each of us brings to this community of believers. But where does that river flow? Eventually the river has got to feed some larger body of water. For our purposes, lets call that "ocean" our community.

Okay, let's quit the metaphor and start talking sensibly. How can we bring life and healing to this community? Here's my thought: it can't (or maybe "won't" is a better word) happen until we ourselves are alive and healed. And that's really the driving factor between fellowship, corporate worship, small groups, and things like this blog. Healing begins with openness and honesty; I have found that being open and honest is much easier among those you can trust--and you can't really trust people you don't know. So I suppose if I had to boil down the real purpose of this blog, it's to start building trust between us--trust that invites openness and honesty, and paves the way for the healing we desparately need.

Does that resonate with anyone? Let me know in your comments. Also, for fun. . .you know how people like to talk about their pet peeves? Well that's annoying, and frankly, my pet peeve is listening to people recite their pet peeves. Oops.

So don't tell me your pet peeve. Tell me one of your pet joys. Here's one of mine: I like to set my alarm clock early just so I can be jarred awake. In that moment of self-inflicted grog, there is nothing like the sheer ecstasy of remembering that I set my alarm clock early and don't really have to get out of bed.

Jeff

The Start

2008-05-07T23:44:00.006-06:00

I always try to start these types of things out profoundly, as if to generate interest and credibility. I usually end up confusing myself, so this time, I'm going to let Martin Smith, lead singer of Delirious?, present the basic idea. In the song "Did You Feel the Mountains Tremble?" you will find the following lyric: Did you feel the darkness tremble?/When all the saints join in one song/And all the streams flow as one river/To wash away our brokenness.

There are a hundred ways to interpret the river metaphor we've developed here at ROL church. For the purposes of this blog, the interpretation is simple: we're as much a river of lives as we are a river of life. What I mean by that is we are all individuals with our own ideas, opinions, relationships, callings and lives. Yet we are all members of a single community of believers, a community seeking to spread the love and life of Christ to everyone we meet. Taking the metaphor to the logical end, we are all streams flowing into the River of Life.

So what does this blog have to do with it? I admit I have been cynical of the whole blog thing since people started talking about them. It first seemed to me like another one of those other self-serving trends like YouTube or reality TV. . .everyone wants his or her "moment in the sun," his or her slice of fame, his or her chance to speak up and be heard. Then I realized what an amazing tool this could be for our church. What a great opportunity for us to share thoughts and ideas! What a great chance to share our lives! My hope for this blog is that it gets us talking, not as we do on Sunday mornings, but as families do around the dinner table. This is a perfect place for real, raw and relevant conversation, a place to let our personalities come out, and a place for tranparency.

At the very least, this experiment is going to help us get to know each other better. Maybe in that respect it is a little self-serving. . . and I'm okay with that.

Here's how it's going to work, at least to start. My plan is to update the articles and discussion topics on a frequent basis (at least weekly). As time goes on and the participation level increases we can add more writers/contributors, but I think we need to start simple. Initially, I'm volunteering to manage, maintain and moderate the blog. Mostly, I'll just be writing about things I'm trying to hash out, and asking questions that will get us all thinking and talking. We want to be very careful to avoid divisiveness and negativity, so please be conscious of that when posting comments. We want this to be something that reflects Christ.

These posts will probably not always be this lengthy, but of course this is the first one. A little background is necessary.

So how about a discussion to get the ball ROL-ing (ha! my first blog pun!)? I'm going to share with you a timeline of important "red-letter" dates in my relationship with God--a paired down testimony, if you will.

1985: Born, physically
1994-5: Grapple with conviction, condemnation, and confession. Develop understanding of sin. Get baptized in water.
Late 90s: Struggle with fear, doubt, compulsive tendencies. Experience some deliverance.
1998: Begin involvement with worship team
2000: Gain desire for deeper personal relationship with God. Recognize need for fellowship.
2006: Start to give Godly desires more importance than worldly desires
2007: See God's plan beginning to unfold. Begin to learn how to trust God more fully.
2008: Continuing to recognize and appreciate God's faithfulness and blessing. Still learning how to trust God. Trying to learn what worship is and how it works.

Well, there you have it. Now it's your turn! Also, let's kick around this question: what would you like to see happen with this blog?

Looking forward to your comments,

Jeff