The Slow Burn of Transformation

The kingdom of heaven is supposed to change you. The kingdom of heaven is supposed to change this world. The kingdom of heaven though works a little slower than most of us. It is a slow burn and a slow transformation. Yes, there is a quick transformation once one commits their life to the giving life of the kingdom; however there is not a full transformation. We are in the process of being transformed and each day we are slowly becoming who God is creating. Complete transformation does not happen overnight. Paul would say that we are transformed by the renewing of our minds (Romans 12:2), meaning we are constantly being transformed. One cannot quit smoking overnight or quit being an alcoholic or drug addict in a day or two or seven. It is a transforming process and thus the kingdom of heaven is a transforming process that fully converts us into who God is creating us to be.

“I thank Christ Jesus our Lord,” 1 Timothy reads, “who has given me strength, that he considered me faithful, appointing me to his service. Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted ignorant and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus. Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.” (1 Timothy 1:12-17 NIV).

Paul's transformation from persecutor of the church to missionary to the gentiles is notorious in the Christian tradition. We know who Paul was before he became the Paul we know. We are aware of his deeds and his life before Christ. Likewise we are aware of his deeds and life after Christ. Even in the collection of letters that are attributed to Paul, we encounter an ever growing faith and theology of one of the most influential Christians of all time. By the time Paul, or someone writing for Paul, writes to Timothy, his true son in the faith, we are encountering a different Paul than the one in the first Thessalonian letter and the Galatians letter. By the time we read Philemon, we encounter a more mature Paul than before. Paul's transformation does not end on the road to Damascus or when the scales from his eyes falls off before Ananias; in fact his letters suggest that his transformation is just beginning but he is indeed a changed man. As Carl Holladay writes, “While the textual Paul of the Pastorals (1 & 2 Timothy and Titus letters) stands in continuity with the historical Paul, he has also moved beyond the Paul of the earlier letters.” (Holladay. A Critical Introduction to the New Testament pg 423).

Paul's own theology and person continually grows and created anew. While he is changed, Paul does not stop transforming into whom God is creating him to be. Paul's own historical life shows us what happens when one encounters the kingdom of heaven. He demonstrates clear evidence of the life changing power when one finds their role in the story of the kingdom of heaven. The kingdom of heaven changes us. Once we encounter Christ, once we choose to be made whole, we begin to be transformed, healed, and we are thoroughly changed. You and I are not who we were 10 years ago. As we grow in age, as we are transformed from childhood to adulthood, we are in a constant state of transformation. Even the church itself is in a constant form of transformation. With each new discovery, new revelation, new encounter with Christ the church changes. It has slowly transformed from small house churches in Rome or Ephesus to mega-churches in California, Texas, Virginia, Michigan, and other cities and states. It has transformed from extension of the Jewish faith to its own entity with several denominations. The kingdom of heaven does not just change us one and done. It is a continual transformation as Paul writes, “When I was a child I spoke like child. As I grew I put away childish things.”

We cannot expect to encounter Christ and remain unchanged. The most world shattering statement we can make is when we claim God exists. The minute we make that proclamation, we are no longer the same. The minute we make the proclamation, “I am a Christ follower” we are no longer who we just were. We become someone, something different. We become set a part and unlike others. We start the slow burn of transformation. However, many of us do not allow Christ to fully transform us. We reach a point to where the transformation hurts and we simply stop growing. We no longer desire to be fully clothed by Christ. That is to say we stop short of being fully converted.

I believe there are two distinct parts of our conversion. There is the first: Our realization of a greater power and realization of a better life, a life that belongs to the Father, a life created by One in whom our breath was given. A realization of who Jesus is and the choice to become a follower, a believer in Christ something we, Baptist folk, like to call a “profession of faith”. This first conversion is one which allows us to say, “I am trying to be a better person because I am saved by grace.” It is the realization of being in need for the mercy to which Paul speaks to. That is our first conversion.

The second conversion is the one in which become fully converted by allowing Christ to fully transform us, to fully convert us into who God is creating us to be. It is to realize that the first gives us the confidence to say, “Nothing can separate us from the love of God” and that being fully converted is to be fully born into the person God is creating. It is to fully reborn as a follower of Christ that says, “My existence can no longer remain the center, because the essence of the knowledge of God reveals my own existence as deriving its total being from his” (Henri Nouwen, “God Exists” Show Me the Way: Daily Lenten Readings pg 37). Being fully converted is allowing Christ to fully transform us, moving away from our guilt of the past and embracing fully this new life. We then are able to say, “Yes, indeed I was once a sinner but my sin no longer defines me thanks to the grace of Christ Jesus.” For once we have been fully converted, fully transformed by experiencing God's “love as the love in which all human experiences are anchored, we can only desire one thing: to be in that love” (Nouwen, pg 38).

We must remember that the kingdom of heaven is a journey of faith. The kingdom of heaven, it appears, is not breaking in all at once. Instead it is coming stages and unexpected ways thus we need to remind ourselves that we are not sprinting but running this race, this marathon surrounded by a great cloud of witnesses whom have gone before us. We must remember that the journey is changing us and to not resist the change Christ is doing within and in the world. Often we start to cling to the past life, the past ways, the past time instead of letting go and allowing God to fully transform us. Something holds us back. Something does not allow us to be fully converted. We become afraid. Perhaps what hinders us is the loud voice that says, “God won't love you anymore.” Perhaps it's the fear of losing what has been given or being rejected by God that binds us and stops us short of being fully transformed. Perhaps it is the fear that “once saved always saved” isn't true.

That used to be a fear of mine and some days I wonder if when it is all said and done if I will find myself separated into the group of the goats. I have been told that the thought of being “once saved always saved” was unbiblical. I would worry myself at night that Jesus was packing his bags and leaving my heart because my heart wasn't pure enough. My worst feeling at the age of 7 was sitting in my room after getting caught stealing tools out of a neighbor's shed was not the spanking I got but the fear that Jesus had left me and I was indeed bound for hell. That fear stuck with me as I grew up until one day when I was 14, my pastor, Earl Powell, sat with me outside our cabin at Falls Creek and read these words, “My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they shall never perish; no one can snatch them out of my hand. My father, who has given them to me, is greater than all; no one can snatch them out of my Father's hand” (John 10:27-30 NIV). He reminded me of what I mentioned before, he reminded me of what Paul wrote to the Roman church, “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels or demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (Romans 8:38-39 NIV).

On June 7, 1994, seven years after my conversion, I began my journey to being fully converted. I was able to cast aside my fear and fully begin my journey to becoming whom God was creating. It was a freeing moment, a life changing moment, and without that moment I would not have embraced this call to serve. I share that story so that you know the power of our assurance of Christ's unending, unconditional love that has been given to all God's people who are willing to open their eyes, hearts, minds, and souls to that love. I share that story so that if that fear resides in you, you may cast it away and fully embrace the journey God has in-store for you as part of the kingdom of heaven. Do not allow the voices of evil and despair deny you a better life, a kingdom life, a resurrection life.

On January 6 an invitation was given to you, inviting you to find your role in the story of the kingdom of heaven. My prayer for all of us this lenten season is to allow the love of Christ to fully transform our lives so that we may one day sing:

Road go ever ever on,   Over rock and under tree,
By caves where never sun has shone,   By streams that never find the sea; Over snow by winter sown,   And through the merry flowers of June, Over grass and over stone,   And under mountains in the moon.

Roads go ever ever on,   Under cloud and under star, Yet feet that wandering have gone   Turn at last to home afar. Eyes that fire and sword have seen   And horror in the halls of stone Look at last on meadows green   And trees and hills they long have known. (J.R.R. Tolkien. The Hobbit pg 284).

My prayer is that at the end of this journey together towards the kingdom of heaven, to a bloody cross and an empty tomb, in Christ's likeness we awake; that we become closer to being fully transformed knowing that God is not through working; that we are able to fully be persons of where God is, and live from a place in which everything matters: giving water to the thirsty, clothing the naked, working towards the kingdom, saying a prayer, smiling at a child, reading a book, and sleeping in peace. All will become different as we are being transformed while all remains the same (Nouwen, pg 38). Let us be able to hear the voice of God say, “My dear child. Something is the matter with you! You are not the person you were.” (Tolkien, pg 284).

Lenten Journal: "Evolution of a Faith Journey" by Erin Rourke Collier

It was my first week of my first ministry job - children's ministry specialist. I was driving to work, across the James River, excited about the opportunity to do ministry and work with kids, when it hit me: I would be teaching these kids about faith. You may think, "well, duh, I think that's part of the job description," but what I realized is that I would have a direct impact on these children and their faith formation. And as someone who was (and is) still unlearning things from well-meaning childhood Sunday School teachers, it scared me. What if I screw these kids up? What if I set the stage for things that they, too, would have to unlearn?

My faith journey has been one of evolution as I have grown older, from a more rigid understanding as a child to one that has more gray than black and white. So as part of ministering to the children at church, I have been vigilant to make sure they have the opportunity to question, to think, to find a voice for their own faith. It has also meant I have been very particular about who teaches them. Not vocally, of course, but internally I cringe when I hear a child regurgitate a literalist interpretation of something that they've heard from a teacher.

But the truth is, I can't control the faith of another person. I can't force them to think a certain way. I can't even ensure that my evolving faith is without its blind spots and shortcomings. (Actually, I am fully aware that I don't have it all figured out!) Besides, in my teaching and ministering to these children, if all I do is create a bunch of little mini-mes in regards to faith, have I actually done my job?

The best I can do is offer these children a safe space to question and explore their faith, giving them tools for a lifetime of faith development as they grow older and encounter new situations and information. So, while I won't be asking a fundamentalist to teach, it does mean that I need to be okay with a teacher who isn't on the same spot of the faith spectrum. And that means dealing with my own control issues, as hard as it may be. Besides, having teachers with varying opinions can help children see that it's possible to disagree on some things and still be brothers and sisters in Christ.

At the end of the day, I need to trust that these children have the ability to sort through the faith ideas presented to them and, over time, come to their own expression of faith - even if it doesn't end up looking exactly like mine.

Lenten Journal: Outreach is Hard but No One Got Arrested

I'm breaking my Lenten fast.

Don't judge, you've already broken yours I'm sure.

I'm breaking in for a moment to share a story about yesterday.

With family in town for my son's birthday, I rushed home really fast to take a family picture when I ran across a large group of teenage boys standing outside the church smoking.

My face lit up.

When I returned to the church I found them inside roaming the long hallway, not really sure if they wanted to go into their Sunday school class. Then I found them gathering around my desk as I was being introduced to the faces I didn't recognize. Then I found them roaming the halls once more and I felt the anxiety level of the adults rise.

Why were they here?

My stellar preaching of course!

Okay for the truth, a group of adults volunteered to take a group, whoever wanted to go, to a concert in Norfolk. They were here to go rock their faces off. And based on the reports I got back, they did just that.

Why am I sharing this? Well almost ten years ago during my rookie year as a youth minister, I took a group of youth to a concert as well. We were getting ready to go when a large group of teenagers showed up. They were not a part of the group nor were they signed up. A few students at OBU (that's Oklahoma Baptist University) had heard about the concert and decided they would invite almost every teenager they ran into. What started out as a trip for 20 turned into a trip for almost 40.

I was furious. I didn't have money to pay for all these kids. I didn't have a place for them to ride. They were unexpected guests who should have called ahead before showing up. Who just shows up like that? I didn't respond the way I should have. I didn't respond as Jesus would.

It's a blemish. The even worked itself out and everyone was able to go and a good time was had by all and a few of those unexpected visitors and I talked and they became followers of Christ that evening.

Yesterday was a redeeming moment. History was repeating itself and instead of turning people away or being frustrated, I watched as the adults leading the trip embraced them all, found rides, and took off to enjoy a wonderful concert. I watched my congregation's anxiety level rise and what I thought would be an anxious moment turned into a beautiful day of faith kingdom storytelling.

I received an email this morning that simply read: Outreach is hard. But we had a good time and nobody got arrested.

Yes, outreach is hard because when you open your doors you never know who that unexpected visitor will be. Thank God almighty for redeeming moments. Thank God almighty for loud teenagers who brought life into our hallways. Thank God almighty for the willingness of adults to embrace them and make room for them.

Thank God almighty.

Reclaiming the Kingdom of Heaven

Jesus, full of the Holy Spirit, returned from the Jordan and was led by the Spirit in the wilderness, where for forty days he was tempted by the devil. He ate nothing at all during those days, and when they were over, he was famished. The devil said to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, command this stone to become a loaf of bread.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is written, “One does not live by bread alone.”’

Then the devil led him up and showed him in an instant all the kingdoms of the world. And the devil said to him, ‘To you I will give their glory and all this authority; for it has been given over to me, and I give it to anyone I please. If you, then, will worship me, it will all be yours.’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is written, “Worship the Lord your God, and serve only him.”’

Then the devil took him to Jerusalem, and placed him on the pinnacle of the temple, saying to him, ‘If you are the Son of God, throw yourself down from here, for it is written, “He will command his angels concerning you, to protect you”, and “On their hands they will bear you up, so that you will not dash your foot against a stone.”’ Jesus answered him, ‘It is said, “Do not put the Lord your God to the test.”’ When the devil had finished every test, he departed from him until an opportune time. Luke 4:1-13

Over the past several weeks I have spoken to you about being participants in the story of the kingdom of heaven. We spoke about joining God's epic story and the risks that come with being a part of the kingdom of heaven. We spoke about the need to tell the story together and that the kingdom of heaven does belong to one person but to the whole community. We spoke about the trials of the middle and how Israel struggled to continue on their journey to the promise land and their desire at times to turn back. Today, we are going to look at happens when our story is hijacked by something other than God.

The hardest part of any story is for the characters to listen to the writer. I have been told, and have discovered this some in my own writing, that the characters or the subject matter tend to take a life of it's own. I have experienced this while writing sermons and papers. I would have my thesis written, scripture passage chosen, and theme outlined and I would start writing. As I wrote I discovered a great struggle between myself and my topic or my character. I would write a paragraph and reread it only to discover that something hijacked the story and what I wanted to say was not being said and I would have to delete the entire paragraph.

I believe the hardest part of being a participant in the story of the kingdom of heaven is listening to the voice of the One who is writing. It is hard in a long journey to listen to the voice of the shepherd, of the leader. The Israelites struggled listening to Moses because they felt God was absent even though the signs all said differently. Christians today struggle with the story of the kingdom of heaven because our story is continually hijacked by something/someone other than God. We continually wander through the wilderness listening to other voices who claim to be speaking for God. We turn to the voices of ministers and preachers who reside in positions of power instead of turning the voice of the one who washes our feet.

At the heart of the temptation of Jesus rests the issue of power. Every temptation Satan presents Jesus with is a temptation on being in power and remaining in control. Jesus has the power to command the stones to turn to bread and feed himself. He is given the opportunity to use this power for his own selfish need, a negative we will see him turn into a positive when presented with the hunger of others. Satan's temptation is not about hunger or satisfying one's hunger, it is about something greater. It is an opportunity for an outside force to hijack the kingdom of heaven. The same is said of the other two temptations. Satan presents Jesus with two more opportunities to gain power and control over the kingdom of heaven.

Satan offers Jesus an opportunity to showcase his power in very worldly ways: To throw himself down in order to prove he is the messiah, a temptation that is he is forced to revisit again from the cross, and to bow down and worship him. Two temptations that are about seizing power and control in the coming kingdom. Jesus denies each of these temptations, reminded himself that we do not live on bread alone, we are not to test our God, and we are to worship and serve God alone. He denies not only spiritual and physical temptations but he denies Satan an opportunity to hijack the story of the kingdom of heaven. He remembers and listens for the voice of God, the voice of the one ushering in the kingdom of heaven.

If I may speak boldly I would suggest that the story of the Church in America has been hijacked by the American Church. What I mean by that is that we have become a people who have traded in parts of God's story of the kingdom of heaven with man's story of America. Meaning, we have equated a particular party's platform (Democrat, Republican, Tea Party) as representative of the Kingdom's purpose on earth. Allow me to share a story.

In the book Hijacked: Responding to the Partisan Church Divide, Mike Slaughter tells a story of when he could begin to tell when some his congregants began to marry their faith with their politics, specifically conservative politics. “Phil, a really great guy who loved to serve,” Mike writes, “and was a real support for my young family, asked if I thought it would be okay for him to insert voter guides in the Sunday morning worship bulletins. He handed me one of the brochures to peruse. I called Phil a couple of days later and mentioned that I noticed all of the recommended candidates were Republicans. He assured me that all of the candidates stood on a pro-life platform and that was the reason for lack of inclusion of Democrats. Well, I was all for the pro-life part, so I asked why my friend Tony Hall, a U.S. congressional representative from our area, wasn't listed. Tony was pro-life, an outspoken Christian, an advocate for the poor, and a Democrat who had spoken at a men's dinner at Ginghamsburg that year. Phil's response: “Tony's economic ideology is too liberal.””¹

The kingdom of heaven is indeed a story about pro-life but it is an all-encompassing story of pro-life. It is not just about where a Christian view on abortion. It is about where a Christian stands on the surpassing grace of justice that is being ushered in through the kingdom of heaven. It is the pro-life proclamation of the Sermon on the Mount. It is the pro-life proclamation from the desert in which Jesus refuses to feed himself to satisfy his own hunger. It is the pro-life proclamation of the feeding of the 5,000 when Jesus takes compassion on the hungry and feeds them. It is the pro-life proclamation from the cross, “Forgive them.” “Today you will be with me in paradise.” It is the pro-life proclamation that being a resurrection people, a people who faithfully believe that life is a right for all people, not just an argument on Roe v. Wade. We are a people who are willing to protect life not just from pregnancy to birth, but from birth to childhood to adolescents to adulthood and until the parting of this world. That is being pro-life, protecting all life and knowing that life at any age is sacred. We must realize that the kingdom of heaven is being hijacked by political affiliation that defines life to begin at conception and ends at birth. That is not what it means in the story of the kingdom of heaven.

Jerry Falwell constantly preached against abortion but he did more than just preach or protest. He didn't just say he was pro-life, he went the extra mile. He provided women with housing, financial assistance including medical expenses, and loving support, even arranging adoptions for those who chose not to keep their babies. His pro-life stance went beyond political platforms. Likewise, Mother Teresa went beyond just a pro-life stance. She would say to women who were thinking of getting rid of the child, to reconsider. She pleaded for them to give those babies to her, and she would see that they were cared for and nurtured.² When was the last time those of us who claim to be pro-life went beyond just standing and protesting?

In his sermon, “The Drum Major Instinct”, Martin Luther King Jr., writes, “The other day I was saying, I always try to do a little converting when I'm in jail. And when we were in jail in Birmingham the other day, the white wardens and all enjoyed coming around the cell to talk about the race problem. And they were showing us where we were so wrong demonstrating. And they were showing us where segregation was so right. And they were showing us where intermarriage was so wrong. So I would get to preaching, and we would get to talking—calmly, because they wanted to talk about it. And then we got down one day to the point—that was the second or third day—to talk about where they lived, and how much they were earning. And when those brothers told me what they were earning, I said, "Now, you know what? You ought to be marching with us. You're just as poor as Negroes." And I said, "You are put in the position of supporting your oppressor, because through prejudice and blindness, you fail to see that the same forces that oppress Negroes in American society oppress poor white people. (Yes) And all you are living on is the satisfaction of your skin being white, and the drum major instinct of thinking that you are somebody big because you are white. And you're so poor you can't send your children to school. You ought to be out here marching with every one of us every time we have a march."³

King acknowledges the temptation we face each day with the powers that be. He speaks to the corrupt feeling of security and superiority of the tempters and how they hijacked the Civil Rights Movement. Civil Rights was not just about equality, ending segregation, or voting rights, it was and is about kingdom justice. It is about the justice of Christ saying, “I do not live on bread alone. But on the living word of God.” “I do not worship power and control and prestige. I worship God alone. I have come not to be served but to serve.” “I will not put my God to the test and use my gifts to prove my worth and my word. My word and deed alone are enough.” (my translation). It is reclaiming the story of the kingdom of heaven from the voices who would say, “Not all people are created in the image of God. God's favor only belongs to (insert party, race, gender, class).”

Through his temptations Jesus reclaims the story from Satan. Jesus sets the parameters of it means to be a part of the kingdom of heaven. Jesus tells us that if we wish to tell the story of the kingdom of heaven, we cannot tell the story appropriately or faithfully through the power of politics, the power of ministers in the public eye, or the power of self-righteousness. When we seek to tell God's story of the kingdom of heaven through the means of power we ignore the weakness of the cross. When we seek to tell God's story of the kingdom of heaven through the means of power we give in to the temptation to hijack the story for anything but God's kingdom. We give into the temptation to lean ourselves and our own understandings. We take the story away from the lowly manger, the weak cross, and the empty tomb and we give the story back to the powers and principalities of this world.

However, when we seek to the tell the story of the kingdom of heaven from a grateful heart, a place of deep gratitude and love, we begin to reclaim the story. When the church begins to function as a place of worship, a community of believers, a gathering space for the broken and faith departed, the church reclaims the story from those who wish to seize the story for their own desires and their own pursuits.

Today is the first Sunday in Lent, a time when we break down this idol of power and control and give up such desires and direct our attention to our Lord, Jesus. We are able to reclaim our story from the powers and principalities and transform ourselves into faithful storytellers of the kingdom of heaven. Let us reclaim our story. Let us take back that which has been seized and perverted for selfish gains. Let us re-imagine and be reborn and return to the true nature of the kingdom of heaven: the nature revealed through and in the temptations of Christ.

1Mike Slaughter & Charles E. Gutenson. Hijacked: Responding to the Partisan Church Divide pg 26-27

2Shane Claiborne//Tony Campolo Red Letter Revolution: What if Jesus Really Meant What He Said? pg 93

3Martin Luther King, Jr. “The Drum Major Instinct” 1968 http://mlk-kpp01.stanford.edu/index.php/encyclopedia/documentsentry/doc_the_drum_major_instinct/

Lenten Journal: It Would Serve Me Well by Eric Gaston

I approach Lent from a background in which Lent was not practiced, encouraged, or really even talked about. It’s not that I was taught that Lent was something weird or bad, it just wasn’t a part of the typical Oklahoma Southern Baptist Church’s teaching.

I learned about Lent from one of my best friends who attended the small Catholic parish across town. He explained all about fish and fasting, about focusing and following the rules. Honestly, I always thought that some of the things that people I knew chose to fast from were kind of silly.

Gum? I thought to myself. How silly.

I got an earful from my buddy when I voiced this opinion to him, being reminded that I was in no place to judge someone else’s fasting.

This is when I really learned about Lent. He explained to me quite passionately that as long as the fast resulted in causing one to think about the events of Easter, it didn’t matter from what one was fasting as long as it was a serious endeavor.

I would like to say at this point that I became a devout, passionate observer of Lent.

I didn’t.

I have observed Lent a few times, without much dedication.

My cynical side reminds me that Lent is not a biblical observance (despite loose ties to various feasts and whatnot) and that its origins are rooted in neo-Pagan rituals.

But the more I think about Lent, the more I wonder why I haven’t been practicing it all these years. While I see Lent as primarily a Catholic ritual, it would be silly of me not to try something that is designed to nudge me toward being intentional about reflecting on the gruesome sacrifice and glorious rising of Christ from the grave.

Why would I not want to spend EVERY day, much less 40 days, intentionally reflecting on the greatest gift ever given.

To my shame, I am prone to lose sight of what’s really important in life. I often enjoy debating more than worshiping. I sometimes relish bitterness and oppose forgiveness because of my misguided sense of self-anchored justice.

I forget sometimes, sadly, that the God who embodies and defines what is righteous and just staged the biggest jailbreak that the universe will ever know in order to rescue me from a death sentence I most assuredly deserve.

It would serve me well to be intentional about remembering that I did not and never could deserve one ounce of forgiveness from God, but that Christ set aside his place in heaven to come to earth to be executed in my place.

How dare I ever treat anyone as if they need Christ while acting like I never did...that somehow I need Jesus less that someone else. How dare I? I do it every day.

I would be in far better place if instead of doing that every day, I reflected on Jesus every day.

I could start with 40 days. 

I could observe Lent. 

I could observe Lent as a ritual without any connection to my heart. 

Or, because I need the reminder that my forgiveness was absolutely and totally undeserved. A reminder that Jesus loved me enough to come down and rescue me from hopelessness. 

And whether I fast from gum or food or TV or sleeping in a bed, as long as points me to this reminder - this reminder of the greatness of Jesus - then Lent is something that we all should learn to practice.

Lenten Journal: I am Powerless

Some of the best movies and stories revolve around the fight between good and evil over power and control. Frodo and the Dark Forces of Sauron battle over control of the powerful ring. Spartacus and the Romans battle over the power of freedom and control of human beings as slaves. Batman battles crime lords and criminally insane characters for control over Gotham. We all seek power and control in some form.

I read today that the Pope is resigning at the end of the month. I read a lot of jokes about it too: "I know what the Pope is giving up for Lent." "Pope joins Twitter and then two months later resigns. Some people can't handle social media." If we were able to move past the obvious jokes I think we would see a watershed moment. For the first time since the Middle Ages, a man, chosen to be the head of the Catholic church, whom is clothed in immense power, chooses to give up that power because he can no longer carry on the duties that come with it.

To give up such power and control in today's world is something we do not hear of very often. Sure people give up their power and control when they are forced to by scandal or under threat or through a takeover, but rarely do we hear about one giving up power voluntarily. The Pope exemplifies Christlike leadership in this moment.

As I get ready to approach Lent, I found myself drawn to the struggles of power and control in the scriptures. I read the temptation of Christ for the 50th time and discovered that underneath every temptation laid the issue of power and control. What type of a messiah would Jesus be: a powerful leader or a humble servant?

Power and control: something that perhaps binds us all and something that needs to be let go of.

I am looking off in the distance and I am preparing for this Lenten journey. I am discovering those areas where I seek power and control and I am practicing releasing them. I am unbinding myself from such things and I hope to be free.

I am powerless.

I am powerless; that is what this long winding road is revealing to me. To be a better leader, father, husband, pastor, son, brother, and friend, I need to relinquish the power that binds me and the control that ties me. I must be powerless if I wish to carry my cross and follow Christ because I know where he is going and I must go with him.

This will be my last blog post (besides posting my sermons) during Lent. I am giving up this space so that others might share their stories.

The Urge to Turn Back: Don't Turn Around Bright Eyes

http://bible.oremus.org/?ql=226904750

According to my father I am the youngest person to ever ride the Shockwave roller-coaster at Six Flags Over Texas. I was three or four when I first rode it. We, Kendrick men, are roller-coaster men. We ride roller-coasters when we go to theme parks and we do so bravely and without fear. I remember when the Texas Giant opened at Six Flags Over Texas and the excitement around the roller-coaster. It was going to be the tallest and fastest wooden roller-coaster ever built. When it opened I remember standing in line to ride this behemoth of a ride and I remember the excitement I had when we first got into line.

It was at least a 45 minute wait to ride the Giant. I remember being excited the first few minutes and looking up from a far off distance at the towering ride and hearing the screams of joy from the other riders and the sound of the cars clanking to the top. With each clank and each scream I felt my heart leap with joy and exhilaration and I could not wait to get there. Then as we approached closer and closer and the steep grade became clearer and clearer, my excitement turned to dread. I slowly found myself getting nervous and fear crept up inside me. It is one thing to witness the ride from a distance than it is to see it up close. As we made our way up the stairs and into the our respective holding areas, I wanted to go back. As we approached the cars I no longer wanted to ride this roller-coaster. I wanted to turn back. I wanted to go back to where it was safe. I wanted to watch from the distance. I did not want to be this close. I did not want to experience the ride.

It was too risky of a ride. The incline was too steep and the drop was too high. What if the bolts did not hold up? What if the cars went too fast and flew off? What if I fall out of the seat? Slowly it felt as our turn came to climb into are cars. The choice was there: ride or step over the cars and exit the area?

Our scripture passage this morning reminds us of the urges to turn back. The Israelites are wandering the wilderness, on their way to the promise land. A few chapters before they experience the exodus from Egypt as they watched as Moses stretched his hand out over the sea and the Lord drove the sea back by a strong east wind and they walked across on dry land. They witnessed the sea collapse in on the army of Pharaoh and drown them. They experienced songs of joy and freedom only to be met by harsh climates and terrains and rough roads. They cried out for food and the Lord provided for them. From the wilderness of Sin the whole congregation of the Israelites journeyed by stages. They camped at Rephidim but there was no water there. The people quarreled with Moses about the lack of water. They questioned him asking, “Why did you bring us out of Egypt, to kill us and our children with thirst?”

This is not the first time they questioned Moses nor would it be the last. The change that has taken place in their lives was once believed to be a great thing was now death. They had felt this way before. After celebrating their exodus, they discovered that the journey would not be easy. The saw the army of Pharaoh coming and cried out, “Was it because there were no graves in Egypt that you have taken us away to die in the wilderness? What have you done to us, bringing us out of Egypt? Is this not the very thing we told you in Egypt, “Let us alone and let us serve the Egyptians”? For it would have been better for us to serve the Egyptians than to die in the wilderness.” Their story had barely begun and they were ready to turn back. They preferred slavery and service to masters than they did to be a nation of God. They believed the exodus would make them into a powerful nation and when it did not come, when they felt conflict and struggle they desired to return as slaves. “It is better to shackled to the powers that be than to be free sons and daughters of the living God,” they thought.

Christians often criticize Israel during their wilderness wanderings. We struggle to relate to them, after all, we would not be so shallow or ignorant as they would if we had experienced such miracles. We would stay true to the Lord and not stray because we know better. We are not a sympathetic people to struggles of our ancestors even though we should. We are not that different than the Israelites. We are not as mature in our faith as we would like to think. We have more in common with the Israelites wanderings than we would like to admit. When it comes to the middle of our story we are the Israelites in every way and in every form.

The middle is the hardest part of any story. One of the reasons it takes me a year to finish a book is because of the middle. I get to the middle of the story and I put the book down because the middle seems to go on and on and the end is no longer in sight. The same may be said of our journey with God. We are drawn to a faith that holds a lot of promises, promises that are joyful and rewarding but when the journey gets difficult or we encounter conflict along the way we want to turn around and go back. We begin to long for a time when life was easy and everyone left their doors unlocked. We become nostalgic, like the Israelites, and become trapped in the past. No matter how many miracles the Lord does for us, we still long for another time that was or for a time that has yet to come. We long for something to come along and get us out of the middle.

The thing about a crossing is that it is hard; that is what makes the story of the kingdom of heaven worth being a part of. If our stories were meant to be easy than what need would we have for a creator? I often hear that this is not meant to be, that we were not meant to have struggles or conflict, that our journey was to be easy. I often hear that life became hard when Adam and Eve ate from the tree. I do not think that is true. I do not think life was easy for Adam or Eve when they were in the garden. When I read their story I still see conflict and struggle. I see Adam being given the task to name ever animal and thing under the sun. I see his struggle to find a companion and God creating until one is made that is of Adam's bones and flesh of his flesh. I see struggle in their story and I see what happens when we get stuck in the crossing of the middle. I see what happens when we long for what was or for what has yet to come.

But that is not the end of what I see. While I see banishment and exile and wandering, I see a God who remains faithful and provides. I see a God who has not forsaken or abandoned but walked along side the people. I see a God, when questioned by others, bring forth water from the rocks and bread from the skies. That is what I see. I see a God whose faithfulness is made true as we trudge through the middle on our way to the promise land. I see a God through whom life is being made new and whom shines the sun through the dark clouds.

If we wish to be a part of God's epic story then we are going to need the faith that moves mountains if we wish to get to the other side of the sea. We are going to have trust that water will spring from the rocks and food will fall from the skies. We are going to have to show a little faith and trust there is magic in this night. We are going to have keep moving, one step at a time, and hold on to the promise that God is our God and we are God's people. We must hold true for God will not forget the covenant made with Abraham, Issac, and Jacob, the covenant that was fulfilled in the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

Let us, this morning, break the bread and drink from the cup, trusting in God's saving deed. Let us this morning look to our ancestors of faith and remind ourselves of the water God provided when it was needed. Let us believe that the Lord is indeed among us.