Lenten Journal: The Privileged

I remember very clearly the first time I discovered I was privileged. It was September 1994, I had started a new school, Forest Park Middle School. I had transferred from Pine Tree ISD to LISD so I could attend the high school my dad worked at and because it was a dream of mine to always be a Lobo. First, I had to be an Eagle and it was FPMS that I learned a valuable lesson: I am a privileged white boy.

I haven't given much thought to my time at Forest Park because I such an awkward kid and it was a new place with new people and I was completely out of my league. 8th grade was not a great year for me. It was okay, just not great. It wasn't until I read the story and sequential blogs/articles about Trayvon Martin that I remembered a very significant memory.

It was our first football game of the season. We were playing John Tyler's Jr. High team and I had somehow earned the starting strong safety position. It wasn't a great game on my behalf. I did what I was supposed and made a couple of tackles but I was working through some serious fears out there. After the game, on the bus ride home, I remember clearly a teammate getting upset at the lack of playing time he received.

"It's crap," He said, "I get one play and that white boy gets to play the entire game? That's crap. Just because he's a coach's son who gets special shoulder pads and a special face mask."

As I look back on it, he was right to a degree. I had received special treatment in a way because my dad was a high school coach. He was able to get me shoulder pads that had the cool rib protectors and my facemask looked like an NFL facemask. Though, none of that helped with all 180lbs of Frank Cox runs through you. I was privileged. I still am privileged: I am white, middle class, perhaps a little upper middle class, man who knows the right people.

I tried to fight that perception of me in middle school. I fought it all the way into high school and through high school. I tried to fight that perception. And you know who helped me fight that perception? My African American and Hispanic friends.

After the comment on the bus, I felt a tap on my shoulder by Shun Bradley. He said, "Don't let it get to you. You did good today." I didn't receive words of faith or encouragement from my white teammates. The words came from an unexpected person. It came from a person who would repeatedly go out of his way that year to make sure I felt welcomed, encouraged and included until I got my feet underneath me. I have no idea why he did that and I wish to God I didn't forget that memory until now.

We live in a racially divided society. We have been brought up to see others of different races as suspect. I am, in many ways, prejudice. We all are. We have all looked at some of a different race or someone of a different social standing with suspicion. Our lives are not divided just racially but by gender as well. If a white man ever says he is the oppressed or a part of the 99%, it is a half truth. Sure, we may not all be wealthy cats but we will always be given the benefit of the doubt because of our gender and our skin color. And that is wrong.

Jesus wasn't a white man with blond hair and blue eyes. He didn't die for the rights of the privileged. He didn't fight for the upper class. He fought for those on the outside. He fought for those on the margins. He fought for those who were persecuted because they were different. It was the privileged people who crucified him. It was the privileged who worked the crowd into a frenzy. It was the privileged who sought to trap him.

I think Jesus would have been proud of the white preachers who wear hoodies in the pulpit, Sunday, and spoke out against the travesty of Trayvon's death. But I think he would challenge those white pastors. I think he would say, "It's great that you're doing what you're doing but you could do more. You're still preaching to people, whom the majority look, think, dress, and act like you. Why not pack up your congregation, close your doors, and walk over to the African American church across the street and worship with them today? And afterwards, why don't you stay around for lunch?"

I wish I had the courage to do such a bold thing. To which Jesus would say, "What stops you?" And that opens up a whole can of worms inside my mind.

Lastly, this past Sunday, I had the honor of attending a surprise party for one of my dear friends. Several of us, of different races, gathered under the same roof to celebrate the life of someone we hold dear. My son, Connor, made a new friend that day, Christian. Christian is just 2 months younger than Connor. And as I watched the two of them play and then hug and kiss one another goodbye, I prayed that my son would never look at Christian and see a black man. Instead he would look at him and see a friend, a brother. There are many things I cannot control as a parent, that however isn't one of them.

I may not be able to fight the injustice of Trayvon's death. I can however prevent it from happening in the future. In my son, in our children, we have the opportunity to raise a generation that does not see the color of skin but see the face of a brother, a sister, a friend. We can make the dream of a past generation a reality by teaching our children in the eyes of God there is no black, yellow, red, brown, or white, only people created by the same God who created them.

Lenten Journal: The Mountiantop, For a Moment

I have spent the morning reflecting on these past few weeks. Lent is drawing to an end and we are in our final week. Seven more days until we lay our coats on the ground for a donkey to walk over. Seven more days for our eyes to rest upon the not so distant cross. Seven more days for our bodies to rest on this mountaintop.

As I look back over the scriptures, I discovered the journey of Lent to be like climbing mountain. Of course, we take one step at a time and all that mushy cheesy stuff. But what I am speaking to is something else. We have been traveling with Jesus as he ministers, preaches, heals, and offers us the full picture of the kingdom of God. Our journey leads us to a mountaintop.

Yesterday, I felt we reached the mountaintop. I felt we were given the privilege to look out over the vast love of Christ and see what he sees. The cross, though far off, was visible and the reality sunk in. There will be no other way, though I wish there could. I think we all do in some way. It would be nice to have Jesus around for a little while longer. But could we enjoy this time on the mountaintop without the journey? Could we rejoice in the resurrection without the Lenten journey?

Easter has become a time, like Christmas, that just shows up at the church. Many churches do not really prepare themselves for Easter. Preachers preach on whatever they want to or whatever series they've started or on the lectionary; but do they prepare their congregations for what's to come? Are they creating the freeing space to see Palm Sunday, Good Friday, and Easter in a new holy light? Is that not what this journey does for us? Is that not what this time on the mountaintop do for us?

I reread my sermon yesterday, or homily, it wasn't really long enough to be counted as a sermon. I am not sure I conveyed the message that I felt Jesus was speaking to. We have travelled to the top of the mountain and like the people, we want to meet with Jesus. We want to hear one of his stories. We want him to tell us of God's gracious love. We want him to preach on the coming kingdom of God. We want him to burn the Pharisees one more time. We want to laugh. We want to hear Jesus one more time.

Yet, Jesus says, "No more stories. No more burns. No more sermons. I am only hear for a little while longer. You only have the light just a little longer. Enjoy it. Bask it in it. Sunbathe in it. Soak it in because soon the darkness will come and you will face a great struggle. But have faith because the Son of Man will be lifted up. Yes, I will die. Yes, it goes against what you've heard. Yes, it is true. But have faith because the Son of Man will be raised from the dead. For now, just enjoy this moment. Let us look out over the valleys and enjoy this day. Tomorrow will take care of itself. Just enjoy the view."

We are at the mountaintop. Let us stay here just awhile longer. Let us prepare our hearts and souls for the journey down into the valley of the cross. Let us go with courage and faith. But let us just sit for a moment and enjoy the view. Let's just sit on the mountaintop for a moment.

Lenten Journal: Words of Wisdom

“Die?” asked the crowd. “We understood from scripture that the Messiah would live forever. Why are you saying the Son of Man will die? Who is this Son of Man you are talking about?”

He looked at them compassionately and replied, “My light will shine out for you just a little while longer. Walk in it while you can, so you will not stumble when the darkness falls. If you walk in the darkness, you cannot see where you are going. Believe in the light while there is still time; then you will become children of the light.”

He smiled his best smile, turned around, went away and was hidden from them.

If life was a musical I think this would be the time Jesus would sing a soft ballad. Something to ease the crowd while provoking thought of what was about to happen. He would have to sing something that could convey his message; something to remind us to let go. Perhaps he would sing, “When I find myself in times of trouble, Mother Mary comes to me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be. And in my my hour of darkness she is standing right in front of me, speaking words of wisdom, let it be.”

Perhaps he is whispering these words of wisdom to us as we gather this Sunday morning, “Let it be.”

Jesus' part in the story is coming to an end. Next week, we will gather and celebrate the entry of the king. We will lay our palm branches and our coats for a donkey carrying the Christ to walk over. We will rejoice that Sunday. Come the following Thursday, we will witness his betrayal. On that Friday, we will crucify him. On that Saturday, we will hide and mourn. Then, bright and early the following Sunday, we will rise up. That will be then.

As for today, let us look at Jesus one last time and let us hear his words to us, “Let it be.”

We have been preparing ourselves for these next two weeks. Our scriptures have focused on the journey to the cross. The cross as a way is becoming a reality. His words of prophesy are coming true. Do we have the faith to look up upon the cross with trusting eyes and hopeful hearts, hearing his words, “And when the night is cloudy there is still a light that shines on me. Shine until tomorrow, let it be”?

That has been the question we have been asking ourselves for the past 40 days. We have been asked to look upon the cross, not as something that is abstract and romanticized, but something that is very real. We have been asked to take up our crosses, carry them and when the time came to die upon them, to lose our lives for the gospel's sake. We are being shown the cost of bringing the kingdom of heaven to life. We are being shown the way, the way to the cross.

Let it be.

The best stories involve characters who are willing to make the sacrifices necessary to achieve their goals. Characters who are willing to leave the comfort of the shires and travel into the fires of Mordor, they are characters we remember. Who will remember a Messiah who prefers the comforts of the throne and the power of the crown? Who will remember a Messiah who willing sacrifices others but will not sacrifice himself?

Our faith is built on the greatest story ever told. A story of a Christ who came to us as a carpenter's son, advocated for the poor and selflessness, preached of a kingdom that was coming, brought a message of love, grace, and mercy, willing went to the cross with the faith that death would not win. It is the story that will give hope to the early church as they faced death. It is the story that will challenge the powerful Roman church through the reformers. It is the story that has found its way into our lives. It is the story for which we are gathered. It is a story of a character who willing lays down his life for his friends.

Are you willing to lay down your life for the sake of the gospel?

Is that not the question Jesus asks when he says, “All those who want to be my disciples must come and follow me, because my servants must be where I am.”

Is that not the question we have been struggling with?

Let it be.

The next two weeks always bring up the tough questions. Many of us have grown up with the familiar answers. In a way, we've tamed the gospel because we do not find the struggle of the cross in our own lives. We struggle to grasp the story at hand because it has become a natural part of our faith. Perhaps though this Easter could be different. Perhaps this Palm Sunday will be different. Perhaps this Good Friday will be different.

Perhaps I will stop asking questions and saying, “Perhaps.”

Perhaps.

Until we know the answers, let us be satisfied with our questions. Let us trust there will one day be an answer and let it be.

Words of wisdom, let it be.

Lenten Journal: The Sound of Music

Last night I crossed off one of my wishes on my wish list: I attended my first Bruce Springsteen concert.

I did not get home until 3 am and I am running on pure adrenaline. The experience led to a restless night and just 4 hours of sleep. And some how I feel like a new man.

My face. Rocked off.

I went to the mountaintop last night abroad a train conducted by a madman and band who refused to stop or take a break for 3 hours until they got us to where we were going. I stood on the mountaintop as the hymns played and I found myself worshipping.

I wasn't worshipping a man. Don't get me wrong, I'm huge Springsteen fan but he's not God. No, last night he was merely the guide who led me to the mountaintop and there I worshiped.

It's fascinating what music can do for your soul. Especially good music by good musicians. It's no surprise David lamented and praised in the form of song.

Music has the ability to capture your soul and transport you to another place and time. To a place where a joyful noise is welcomed and encouraged. Transported to a place where voices join in chorus, "Come on up for the rising!" Transported to a place where you feet cannot help but move. Transported where you find your soul renewed and voice gone from singing and legs aching from dancing.

Music can send you to the mountaintop.

I am thankful for the experience last night.

I am thankful for a tired body with a renewed mind.

I am thankful I encountered the Almighty in a sea of people.

I am thankful for music that lifts the soul.

I am thankful for being sent to the mountaintop.

I am thankful for the strength it will give me as we walk down through the valley to Good Friday.

I am thankful for the freedom it will give us to dance come Easter Sunday.

Listen.

Can you hear it?

It's the sound of music.

Lenten Journal: A Lantern and A Dark Knight Born Again

Now there was a Pharisee named Nicodemus, a leader of the Jews. He came to Jesus by night and said to him, “Rabbi, we know that you are a teacher who has come from God; for no one can do these signs that you do apart from the presence of God.” Jesus answered him, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can see the kingdom of God without being born from above.” Nicodemus said to him, “How can anyone be born after having grown old? Can one enter a second time into the mother’s womb and be born?” Jesus answered, “Very truly, I tell you, no one can enter the kingdom of God without being born of water and Spirit. What is born of the flesh is flesh, and what is born of the Spirit is spirit. Do not be astonished that I said to you, ‘You must be born from above.’ The wind blows where it chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes. So it is with everyone who is born of the Spirit.”

Nicodemus said to him, “How can these things be?” Jesus answered him, “Are you a teacher of Israel, and yet you do not understand these things? “Very truly, I tell you, we speak of what we know and testify to what we have seen; yet you do not receive our testimony. If I have told you about earthly things and you do not believe, how can you believe if I tell you about heavenly things? No one has ascended into heaven except the one who descended from heaven, the Son of Man. And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up, that whoever believes in him may have eternal life. “For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, so that everyone who believes in him may not perish but may have eternal life. “Indeed, God did not send the Son into the world to condemn the world, but in order that the world might be saved through him. Those who believe in him are not condemned; but those who do not believe are condemned already, because they have not believed in the name of the only Son of God. And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.”

Two of my favorite heroes, Green Lantern and Batman, are probably the most different superheroes one person could follow. Green Lantern works in the light while Batman prefers the dark. Green Lantern protects the entire space sector of 2814 while Batman watches over Gotham City, ridding the city of crime. Green Lantern is light, Batman is dark. Each one is a part of a universe in desperate need of heroes.

The Lantern understands that his/her light shines out in the dark universe giving hope to all who see the green light. Green Lantern Hal Jordan prefers to shine as a brightly as he can so the evil ones will come to him. Batman hides in the shadows scaring evil into the light. Two heroes: one of light and one of dark. Each one bringing those who do injustice to light. Each one fighting evil in their own way and own style. One of light and one of darkness.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.

In darkness, Nicodemus comes to Christ. He brings his questions to him and does not understand the answers. He lurks in the night for fear of being seen by his group, his friends, his social network. He moves through the back alleys and the rooftops and finds his way into a room with the light of the world. The dark and the light meet face to face. Nicodemus wishing to remain in the dark and Jesus telling him the light has come and only the evil prefer the dark.

Nicodemus wants to be a follower of Christ, evident in John 7:51. He likes Jesus and his questions in John 3 lead me to believe he wants to come out and be open of his belief but his questions showcase his fear. For him, it is safer to move about through the dark. It is better for him to wear the cape and cowl instead of basking in the light.

We are not that different than Nicodemus. We desperately want to follow Christ and we desperately want others to follow Christ so we put the flags of John 3:16. We testify to the light of John 3:16 but we deny the lifting up of the light. We deny the light to shine in the darkness because the light shines too brightly. We deny the cross as a way because we fear how bright the light could shine in a weak moment.

We are children of the light hiding in the dark because the light shows us our impurities. We cling to John 3:16 in hopes no one will see our own scars. We love the light of John 3:16. We fear the darkness of John 3:14. We fear what will come to light when we go to the cross. We fear we will not still be loved. The light of John 3:16 is greater than our darkest fear of hell. The lifting of the light of God that came into this world reminds us of God's compassionate unending love.

In the episode Hereafter, standing before Superman's tomb Batman eulogizes, “You showed me justice doesn't always have to come from the dark.”

Nicodemus struggles to understand Jesus' metaphors. For him, it is best to move through the shadows and work out of the darkness versus working in the light. He doesn't understand the notion of being born again. He is confused by the humility of the Son of Man being lifted up. He simply doesn't understand.

Or does he?

In John 7:51, Nicodemus defends Jesus when he tells the other Pharisees, “Is it legal to convict a man before he is given a hearing?” The Pharisees respond, “Are you from Galilee, too? Search the scriptures and see for yourself. No prophet ever comes from Galilee!”

In that small exchange, we see Nicodemus coming to an understanding of what Jesus means when he says, “And just as Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, so must the Son of Man be lifted up.” He sees first hand there will no reasoning. The Son of Man will be lifted up on the cross. He learns that people love the dark instead of the light.

A popular church quote started popping everywhere called, “No Perfect People Allowed”. It was a statement stressing that we are all imperfect beings in need of God's uncompromising compassionate grace. The quote brought problems to churches who started to see themselves as imperfect. Instead of creating a sense of humility in the community, it began to breed emotions of fear and insecurity. Sinners started to darken the church walls and the church faithful begin to get worried. Unlike them, the sinners remained humbled and grateful for the God of John 3:16.

The church faithful, like the Pharisees, wanted to keep what was done in secret and in darkness, stay in the darkness. The more sinners darkening the church halls brought to light the sin of our own lives. Instead of finding the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16, the church faithful turned away, preferring the darkness to the light. The light of grace towards the sinners revealed the skeletons in the closet of the church, and the church feared they would get sick once again.

If we are a people who have been born again in Christ, we are not afraid of the skeletons in the closet. A church which has been born again in Christ is not afraid of the sinners which sit in their pews and preach from their pulpits. Being born again sets us free. That is what Nicodemus struggles to understand. He cannot comprehend the freedom to stand in say, “Why are seeking to kill this man? Is God so small that a prophet cannot come from Galilee? Is God so small that the blind and lame cannot be healed but through our traditions? Is God so small that the weak cannot be made strong? Is God so small that justice only comes through the power of the government? Is God so small that his love conditional?”

Being born again in Christ frees us to see that the cross as a way because of the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16. Being born again frees us to live a life of truth and justice. Being born again frees to not fear the dark but to shine as brightly as we wish. Being born again frees us to love our neighbors as ourselves. Being born again frees to look humbly at our sins and look at the grace of the cross with grateful hearts. Being born again frees to trust in the words of Christ. Being born again frees to be compassionate to others as God is compassionate to us. Being born again frees to go humbly to the cross.

What's that old hymn say?

When I survey the wondrous cross,

On which the Prince of glory died,

My richest gain I count but loss,

And pour contempt on all my pride.

Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,

Save in the death of Christ my God;

All the vain things that charm me most,

I sacrifice them to the cross.

See, from his head, his hands, his feet,

Sorrow and love flow mingled down;

Did e'er such love and sorrow meet,

Or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine,

That were a present far too small;

Love so amazing, so divine,

Demands my soul, my life, my all.

In two weeks, we will sing Hosanna. In three weeks, we will sing “Were You There” as Christ is crucified. Three days after that, we will sing, “Up From The Grave He Arose”. Today, let us open our eyes and look towards the cross with the humility of John 3:14 and the grace of John 3:16.

Lenten Journal: Remembering Wanting

I originally sat down this afternoon on my lunch break to write about something I had on my mind. As with most things on my mind, I lost my thought as soon as I sat down behind this laptop.

There is a lot to ponder in this great big world. There are a lot problems that need to be addressed and handled. There is a lot do in between thinking times. Life moves fast and if you don't slow down once in awhile you'll miss it, as Ferris once said. Only if I could remember why it is I sat down to write in the first place. Only if I could remember what brought me to this page and to this website. Only if I could remember why.

The why matters, right? It matters why a person does something, right? I mean, Hawaii Five-O never ends without McGarrett or Dano asking the villain why. So why have sat down to write here?

Maybe I try to hard.

Will you look at what I did there? I used the wrong "to". It should have been "too" not "to". Maybe I'm trying too hard.

I have that tendency.

I have the tendency to try too hard. I try to be overly poetic, spiritual, prophetic, academic, thoughtful, intelligent, or critical. I have this need to be lifted up. I have this need to be respected, liked, loved, admired, special.

You have that need too, don't you? (See, I used the right "too")

We all have this need to want something from those who are in our lives either physically, emotionally, spiritually, or whatever else "ally".

(Am I using the "" too much?)

We have this desire to be called special by friends and strangers alike. We have this desire to be prophetic and carry the torch of a cause so Jesus will love us more. We have this want and we seek to have it filled however we can.

I want to finish my sermon.

I want to be retweeted.

I want to be shared.

I want to be rid of my want.

Nouwen wrote, "When we start being too impressed by the results of our work, we slowly come to the erroneous conviction that life is one large scoreboard where someone is listing the points to measure our worth."

Perhaps then that is the purpose of Lent: to rid ourselves of our wants, to rid ourselves of the scoreboard.

Hmm...

I just remember what I wanted to write about.

Go figure.

Lenten Journal: The Lantern and the Dark Knight

Two of my favorite heroes, Green Lantern and Batman, are probably the most different superheroes one person could follow. Green Lantern works in the light while Batman prefers the dark. Green Lantern protects the entire space sector of 2814 while Batman watches over Gotham City, ridding the city of crime. Green Lantern is light, Batman is dark. Each one is a part of a universe in desperate need of heroes.

The Lantern understands that his/her light shines out in the dark universe giving hope to all who see the green light. Green Lantern Hal Jordan prefers to shine as a brightly as he can so the evil ones will come to him. Batman hides in the shadows scaring evil into the light. Two heroes: one of light and one of dark. Each one bringing those who do injustice to light. Each one fighting evil in their own way and own style. One of light and one of darkness.

And this is the judgment, that the light has come into the world, and people loved darkness rather than light because their deeds were evil. For all who do evil hate the light and do not come to the light, so that their deeds may not be exposed. But those who do what is true come to the light, so that it may be clearly seen that their deeds have been done in God.

In darkness, Nicodemus comes to Christ. He brings his questions to him and does not understand the answers. He lurks in the night for fear of being seen by his group, his friends, his social network. He moves through the back alleys and the rooftops and finds his way into a room with the light of the world. The dark and the light meet face to face. Nicodemus wishing to remain in the dark and Jesus telling him the light has come and only the evil prefer the dark.

Nicodemus wants to be a follower of Christ, evident in John 7:51. He likes Jesus and his questions in John 3 lead me to believe he wants to come out and be open of his belief but his questions showcase his fear. For him, it is safer to move about through the dark. It is better for him to wear the cape and cowl instead of basking in the light.

We are not that different than Nicodemus. We desperately want to follow Christ and we desperately want others to follow Christ so we put the flags of John 3:16. We testify to the light of John 3:16 but we deny the lifting up of the light. We deny the light to shine in the darkness because the light shines too brightly. We deny the cross as a way because we fear how bright the light could shine in a weak moment.

We are children of the light hiding in the dark because the light shows us our impurities. We cling to John 3:16 in hopes no one will see our own scars. We love the light of John 3:16. We fear the darkness of John 3:14. We fear what will come to light when we go to the cross. We fear we will not still be loved. The light of John 3:16 is greater than our darkest fear of hell. The lifting of the light of God that came into this world reminds us of God's compassionate unending love.

Lenten Journal: The Foolishness of the Cross

Have you ever done anything that was complete foolishness?

Everyone has, right?

It’s natural to do something foolish and at times almost fun to do. I remember when I was nine, I was at the park with my parents and I naturally went to the swings. I started to swing as high as I could. I was attempting to swing myself completely over but it wasn’t working and my parents called for me that it was time for us to go. I said, “Be right there.”

As I continued to swing my dad supposedly said, “He’s gonna jump.” To which my mom replied, “He’s not that stupid.” But I was. On the back swing, I moved my arms in position and while the swing was at the highest point I jumped, nah, I flew! I stuck a perfect landing, fracturing my right foot. It was wonderful childish foolery.

My parents thought it was foolish of me to do something like that. But I thought, as nine year-olds do, that they were ready to leave and the quicker I got down the quicker we could go. I was simply trying to be helpful; but I do not think jumping off swings 20 feet in the air is what Paul was referring to in his letter to the Corinthians.

Paul’s letter to the Corinthians is complicated. We have the privilege of sitting in on one side of the conversation; therefore, we get to imagine what the other side is saying, which is always fun. Paul is forced to address several issues in this letter. He addresses conflict over divided parties, issues related to sex, food, and worship. The church in Corinth had become divided into four different parties. One group claims to belong to Paul, another to Apollos (who, as Acts 18 tells us, was an eloquent man from Alexandria who was well versed in the Scriptures) another to Cephas (Peter’s Greek name), another to Christ. The church Paul has helped create has become a faction divided church. Each group proclaiming authority over the other. Each one saying they have the right version of the Gospel. Factions, like the ones Paul is addressing, are nothing new for the Church. Our Christian faith is divided beyond Conservative and Moderate. Our Christian faith is divided into spectrums of belief, each one having enough power to prove they are right.

Take those who stress the importance of church growth. If their church is growing beyond measurement, obviously their gospel is correct. Or take those who stress wealth. If their church is wealthy and established in the national spotlight, obviously their gospel is right. Or take the ones who highlight the unbroken line of tradition, giving power to impose truth. Obviously their gospel is right. If we take this example out of church walls, we can see it clearly in our world, specifically in our government. Republicans and Democrats, each proclaiming they have the answer to our economic problems. Each one having enough power to prove they are right. But, as with all the examples, none is advancing the message of Christ.

But Paul tells us that the message of Christ is foolishness specifically, the message of the crucified Christ on the cross is foolishness. To the world and to those who are perishing, the cross is for fools. To them, the cross is weak, feeble, and brings death. But to those, who are being saved, it is the power of God. To those who are being saved, they see strength and life in the cross. With the stroke of a pen, Paul turns their world upside down. With the stroke of a pen, Paul turns our world upside down. God’s foolishness is wiser than our human wisdom. God’s weakness is stronger than human strength.

Paul is arguing, quite passionately, that our message, the Christian message, is not about power or wisdom. God chose to use the cross as an opportunity to show God’s strength. Paul takes the hardest part of the Christian faith, Christ’s crucifixion and uses it to argue God’s strength. Paul proclaims Christ crucified because it is a stumbling block to those who demand signs or logically proof. Paul uses the death of Christ on the cross as testimony to the power and wisdom of God. What the world sees as foolishness, God sees as wise.

I grew up in the church and I absolutely loved it. I was always fascinated with how the church ran. I never really understood it but I remember going up to the church during the week days and being intrigued by the work the Pastor was doing or what my Youth Minister was doing. I remember once when one of my friend’s parents went up to the church to have a conversation with my youth pastor, David. I asked him what the conversation was about and he told me that he went up there to tell David get his act together and to work harder. It had appeared to my friend’s parents that David was lazy because he spent his time playing games with the youth on the computer or spent time hanging out with us.

In their defense, they understood work to be something that if you put in the hours, if you put in the effort, and worked hard, you would see the benefits at the end of the day. And in their line of work as doctors, they were right. To them, church work was foolish because there was no real outcome of any of the events we did. If none of us ever came forward after camp to make some declaration, some would think that David was not doing his job. They saw what he did foolish because there was no instance measurable growth. Some see the church as a foolish place, a weak place for frail people in need of superstition. But what they see as weak and foolish, God sees as strength and wisdom.

The struggle within our own faith begins at the cross. We struggle with what the world calls foolishness and with what God has called wise. We see the feebleness of the cross and its mortality and we see death. We see killers, thieves, criminals hung from crosses. We see the cross as the ultimate display of power by governments over their citizens. Our faith struggles within itself because we desperately want to be that power. We don’t want to be the ones who are wrong. We want to be right. But the cross shows us something different.

William Willimon writes,

“In this third week of Lent, as the church makes its way with its Lord to the cross, we pause. We stop for a moment to catch our breath and ponder the irony of it all. As the world snickers at the church, we pause with Paul to mock the world.

Along with the world, we expected to see a savior coming to take charge on our terms. Then the parade comes, and we find that we are standing in the wrong place to get a good view. Here comes the carpenter’s son, bouncing on the back of a donkey -- not coming for breakfast with Barrack and Michelle, or lunch with George and Laura, or consultations with Mitt, Rick, Newt or Ron. The smart ones, the ones who are well adjusted to the status quo, the ones in the know, neither see nor know -- so the story goes. Here is a messiah who does not make sense.

Only the very young, the very old, the women and the simpletons see him. They are standing in the right place to get a proper view. Along with the poor, the maimed, the blind, the lame, the prisoners and the poor old crazed men like Paul, these “fools” see things as they really are.”

The truth is, Christ crucified, the cross, knocks us off our pedestals. What used to be true about power and wisdom is no longer correct. None of us can claim absolute truth any longer because of the cross. The cross, Paul writes, is what God chose to shame the strong. God chose what was foolish in their eyes to shame the wise. This crucified Christ, Paul writes about, is the source of our life. This crucified Christ is the real power of God and the wisdom of God.

The world has never really seen the power of the cross. You might say some believers have never really seen the power of the cross. Our education, our stature, our logic, our idea of power doesn’t allow us to fully see the power of the cross. We don’t want to be fools. But four weeks from, we will be asked to be fools once again. We will be asked to jump out of our swings and act like fools by celebrating the resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Come Easter Sunday, what is weak and foolish in the eyes of the world, will become the instrument God uses to show us what true power and wisdom looks like. May God give us the strength to be weak. May God give us the wisdom to be fools as we preach and live out the message of a Crucified and Risen Messiah.

Amen

Lenten Journal: For Peace. For Peace.

Every Thursday, I meet with a church member who is on and off hospice. We sit in her bedroom and talk. We've talked about her illness. We've talked about her life. We've talked about her marriage. We've talked about her childhood. We've talked about her struggles. We've talked about death. Our talks are mostly her talking and me listening. As it should be.

Lately, we've begun to read through the Gospel of Mark at her request. Normally, I get uncomfortable when others want to read the bible with me because we all bring our interpretations into the reading. There is rarely a time a pastor can simply read the bible as a story and not look for the next sermon illustration or exegetical exercise. I have been thoroughly surprised with our time together. We read a chapter at a time and then I simply ask her what her thoughts are and her thoughts are truly magically refreshing.

This past Thursday we read Mark 4 and I was surprised to watch as she found such theological unknowns in the story. As she reflected on the text, I began to ask if she felt she was in the storm and if she felt she was a seed growing amongst the rocks. Tears began to fill her eyes as she wrestled with it out loud, “It seems Jesus is being an ass. He is sleeping and then nonchalantly gets up and calms the sea and then asks why they have no faith. The sower scattered the seed seemed careless in the scattering.”

We wrestled with the uncomfortableness of Jesus sleeping while others panicked and the uncomfortableness of the sower's carelessness. As we pried away the text, the beauty of her soul's greatest weary is the storm of illness that will one day take her life. The storm of 24 hour care. The storm of being told one day you have 3 months to live. The storm of being told you're not dying anymore. The storm of no longer sleeping in the same bed as your husband because of the machines you are plugged into. The storm of a marriage that is crumbling under the sickness. The storm of uncertainty. All because of an illness she was born with.

As our time came to a close I asked what I could pray for specifically. Instead of getting a laundry list I was given one word: peace.

Pray for peace.

And I did.

Have you not know? Have you not heard? The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth. He does not faint or grow weary; his understanding is unsearchable. He gives power to the faint, and strengthens the powerless. Isaiah 40:28-29

Lenten Journal: Who Do You Say I Am?

Jesus went on with his disciples to the villages of Caesarea Philippi; and on the way he asked his disciples, “Who do people say that I am?” And they answered him, “John the Baptist; and others, Elijah; and still others, one of the prophets.” He asked them, “But who do you say that I am?” Peter answered him, “You are the Messiah.” And he sternly ordered them not to tell anyone about him.

Then he began to teach them that the Son of Man must undergo great suffering, and be rejected by the elders, the chief priests, and the scribes, and be killed, and after three days rise again. He said all this quite openly. And Peter took him aside and began to rebuke him. But turning and looking at his disciples, he rebuked Peter and said, “Get behind me, Satan! For you are setting your mind not on divine things but on human things.”

He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, “If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. For those who want to save their lives will lose it, and those who lose their lives for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. For what will it profit them to gain the whole world and forfeit their life? Indeed, what can they give in return for their life? Those who ashamed of me and of my words in this adulterous and sinful generation, of them the Son of Man will also be ashamed when he comes in the glory of his Father with the holy angels.”

Who do you say I am?

That is the question above all questions, is it not? We offer Sunday school answers as Peter did. We are eager for that proud look from you, that look which affirms our answer and puts us ahead of the class. Yet we stumble when we learn of the cost of knowing the answer. Instead of earning gold stars we are given a cross and the cross frighten us.

Have you rebuked us? Have you been ashamed when we've denied our cross? Have you said to us “get behind me, Satan”? Have we set our mind on human things and not the divine? Have we mistaken you?

You say if we want to follow you, we are to deny ourselves and take up our own cross. You tell us those who seek to save their lives will lose it. You tell us those who lose their lives for your sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it. Does this mean we are to give up our lives for you? Are we to live in such a way in which we put ourselves last?

Are we afraid of the cost?

We have much to lose. We have been taught to protect that which we have created. We have been taught to protect that which we have been given. We have been taught that if we just elect you as President or elect your chosen representative, we will not have to face the cross. We will do anything to avoid such pain. The cross represents more than your death, it represents ours. In the cross we see the cost and pain of following. We see a pain we are not accustomed too. We see a cost that goes against our way of life and our upbringing. In you, in the cross we see all that we have hoped to avoid.

We cannot avoid the cross. We cannot avoid the crucified Christ. We cannot close our ears and shut our eyes in hopes of something better. We cannot dream of the kingdom and avoid the cross as a way. We cannot hope for a Christ and exclude a crucified Christ. “Those who dream of a better life and try to avoid the Cross as a way, and those who hope for a Christ and attempt to exclude the Crucified, have no knowledge of the kingdom of God”; the kingdom of God which cannot endure our way of life.

The kingdom of God does not complete the human; it revolts against the human. The kingdom of God is pushed away by the political powers, the religious authorities, and the holders of tradition because it turns all that we have known upside down to make it rightside up. We react as if we are fighting an infection. If the Christ can make the lame walk, the blind see, and the dead rise, what he could do us frightens us. If the kingdom of God is like a mustard seed, we fear that we cannot control where it goes.

We have worked hard to build our empires. We have created pharaohs out of our money, politicians, and religious leaders and we have become enslaved to them. The Christ has come to set us free and that freedom hurts.

In the Voyage of the Dawn Treader, in a conversation between Eustace and Edmund, CS Lewis alludes to the pain the Christ brings with him and the pain of following him.

“I looked up and saw the very last thing I expected: a huge lion coming slowly toward me. And one queer thing was that there was no moon last night, but there was moonlight where the lion was. So it came nearer and nearer. I was terribly afraid of it. You may think that, being a dragon, I could have knocked any lion out easily enough. But it wasn't that kind of fear. I wasn't afraid of it eating me, I was just afraid of it -- if you can understand. Well, it came close up to me and looked straight into my eyes. And I shut my eyes tight. But that wasn't any good because it told me to follow it.”

“You mean it spoke?”

“I don't know. Now that you mention it, I don't think it did. But it told me all the same. And I knew I'd have to do what it told me, so I got up and followed it. And it led me a long way into the mountains. And there was always this moonlight over and round the lion wherever we went. So at last when we came to the top of a mountain I'd never seen before and on the top of this mountain there was a garden - trees and fruit and everything. In the middle of it there was a well. . . .”

“Then the lion said -- but I don't know if it spoke -- 'You will have to let me undress you.' I was afraid of his claws, I can tell you, but I was pretty nearly desperate now. So I just lay flat down on my back to let him do it.The very first tear he made was so deep that I thought it had gone right into my heart. And when he began pulling the skin off, it hurt worse than anything I've ever felt. The only thing that made me able to bear it was just the pleasure of feeling the stuff peel off. You know -- if you've ever picked the scab off a sore place. It hurts like billy -- oh but it is such fun to see it coming away.”

“I know exactly what you mean,” said Edmund.

“Well, he peeled the beastly stuff right off -- just as I thought I'd done it myself the other three times, only they hadn't hurt -- and there it was lying on the grass: only ever so much thicker, and darker, and more knobly-looking than the others had been. And there was I as smooth and soft as a peeled switch and smaller than I had been. Then he caught hold of me -- I didn't like that much for I was very tender underneath now that I'd no skin on -- and threw me into the water. It smarted like anything but only for a moment. After that it became perfectly delicious and as soon as I started swimming and splashing I found that all the pain had gone from my arm. And then I saw why. I'd turned into a boy again.”

It hurts to follow the Christ. There is a cost to recognizing who is the Christ. And it is that which Jesus tells Peter in his rebuke. It is the cost and pain, Jesus reminds us of when each time we recognize him to be the Christ. A painful cost we cannot avoid. We cannot avoid the cross; for if we do, in hopes of a better life then we lift the things of humans and not the things of the divine.

Lenten Journal: Ministers as Spiritual Guides

“Those who seek to save their jobs will lose their jobs. Those who lose their jobs will find them”

Over the past couple of days I have been in dialogue with others about professional ministry and compensation, specifically salaries. I get very uncomfortable when it comes to talking about money and how much one should or should not get paid. I am fortunate that I make a very good living at what I do; while others are not so fortunate.

Two things irk me about the conversation: 1) The expectation that we should get paid a certain amount even if it puts a strain on a church budget and if they won't strain their budget you leave. 2) The expectation among ministers that we are validated by our congregation through the exchange of money.

I sincerely believe both are poor expectations of the minister. I have seen ministers make ungodly amounts of money while their congregation makes very little. I have seen ministers make so little they qualified for food stamps and struggled to make ends meet. I understand the issue of compensation but I struggle with the expectation of validation through salaries. I am more inclined to accept the call to a church who pays me little yet recognizes when I am overworked, exhausted, and worn out and sets aside adequate time for recovery through vacation and sabbaticals, than I am to accept the call to a church who pays me well but does not recognize the need for self care, saying, “Well, we pay you very well for your time.”

The discussion of money also leads to the negative effect it could have on ministry and the main purpose of my post.

Ministers have a unique calling in many ways. We are called to serve God, the church, our communities, and our families. We are paid to serve others through certain activities: preaching, visitation, prayer services, youth gatherings, retreats, or camps. Yet, in the unique calling, I wrestle constantly with the prophetic voice of my ministry and the salary attached to the strings that control my arms and body. The salary takes a calling and turns it into a profession.

The argument of salary leads to the negative question of who do we really work for. The natural and first response from both parishioner and minister would be God. We work for God so we have the right to use our prophetic voice. I believe that is partially true but a prophet was never employed by the church. In order to be such a voice, they had to be free of the control of the church in order to fully prophesy. Elijah and Elisha were not employed by First Israel Church.

Such thought has often led me to ask, “Are we going to see a change in professional ministry?” That question relates to the statement above, “Those who seek to save their jobs will lose their jobs. Those who lose their jobs will find them.” Before yesterday, my response was the same, I do believe we will eventually see a change in professional ministry with the possibility of ministers moving towards a bi-vocational or volunteer ministry. After yesterday, my response has change.

While I do believe there will come a time when ministers in order to fully live out the gospel will need a second job that pays for the mortgage and bills and food, and only work part time in a local church setting. I believe that time doesn't have to come. If ministers begin to see themselves not employed by God or the church, rather see themselves as the paid spiritual guide I think we may see a better shift in church ministry.

The spiritual guide is one who sees himself/herself as something more than a pastor or minister. They see themselves as ones who walk along side their congregation. They marry them, they bury them, they preach honestly to them, they live in faithful community with them, they flow with them through the ebbs and tides of this wild life while gently pushing them on the things that make them uncomfortable, to challenge gently with love. The spiritual guide recognizes when the congregation has swum out too far in the seas of faith and become frighten. They recognize the fear and instead of violently pushing them or allowing them to drown, they allow for them to safely swim back to shallow waters but continues with those who wish to keep swimming, constantly returning to see if any more wish to swim further out.

Ministers as spiritual guides is not a new thought. In fact, it was a required class at BTSR; however, it was not explored at this level. It was used as a time of personal reflection/prayer (good) and a time of learning polities for job security (bad). Ministers as spiritual guides, for me, is a freeing way to see my profession. Better yet, through the lens of a spiritual guide I am free not to see it as a profession. I am free to see it as a calling. I am free to be reminded of my ordination and the challenge set before me as a minister set apart and called by God to serve God's people. The salary then becomes neither a reward, expectation, or a necessity; it becomes a blessing, a gift. It becomes a gracious gift from a gracious people who I have the honor to serve.