Firm Foundations

I took a pen in my hand and began to scribble down my thoughts in an old journal. It used to be that I would write several times a week, letting the top news of my day flood onto a page and become posterity. Since then, then entries have dwindled and I write on a monthly, or bi-montly, basis. I even have a page which bears this lone phrase, ”So much has happened since I’ve last journaled…” I returned to my odd collection of stories last night and added another reflection which I am going to share with you…

In God’s grace, Ash and I have been preserved. This was not clear until I spent some time reflecting on the past few months here and began to realize that if we were given to our way, we would be in over our heads. If you recall, I spent a lot of time blogging, tweeting, and reading about 24-7 prayer and revival. I began to catch the fire and wanted to spread it. Mixed with the idea of an organic church, the vision was becoming addictive. I prayed fiery prayers for weeks, even months, soaking in the books with Jonathan Edwards, Pete Greig, and Mike Bickle. I had conversations and began to spread the fire to family and friends. We were ready to begin hosting prayer groups in our apartment and teaching on God’s heart for prayer and church…until it became too much.

You see, Christians can have a God-honoring vision but be completely and utterly unprepared for the task. It’s a timing thing. Our job and mission right now (and in the months leading up to this) is to build a firm foundation- specifically focused on our family. Unfortunately, we live in a culture pushing people towards a skyscraper mentality- the church has not escaped this. The skyscraper mentality means that we tend to focus on visible success while we compromise the internal structure of our individual and family life.

If God answered ”yes” to our every prayer, we would be in trouble. If Ash and I had pushed ahead in our passions, we would have been building on a fragile foundation. We probably could have presented a “successful” ministry for a while until the integrity of the structure gave way under the winds and pressures of life. This probably explains why I get frustrated when I look down and notice that I am still on square one. As arduous as this process of refinement may be, I have realized that it is an act of grace. God knows that if we are to have a strong family we have to have a firm foundation- it has been less than six months for heaven’s sake! We need to frontload that work now instead of backtracking in a few years when our relationship shows signs of strain. Slow and steady, remember?

The next time that you feel you are stuck on step one, remember that you are probably being preserved. Instead of thinking that the first step is incidental, remember that it is the foundation upon which many other things will rest. Whether you are reading this as a single or a married person, young or old, this principle of life is the same. Respect it. Honor it. Be thankful that God does not want you to run ahead and fall down. This step will require more time and refinement than many others, so do not be discouraged when you spend years on it. It can be boring. It can be painful. At times, it can even feel like punishment. If you ever want to be a mature believer (or just a mature person) you might as well know that there are no shortcuts. Slow and steady. Build that foundation and make it strong. Spend as much time on it as you need, you will never regret building on a firm foundation.

Look ‘em in the Eye

I used to be really insecure. Actually, if I’m completely honest with you, I still have to push past my insecurities on a weekly basis, sometimes even day-to-day. The difference is that I can work past them understanding the why behind their existence and that I was not meant to be burdened by silly self-pitying holes in my heart.

This seismic shift took place about two to three years ago. It was catalyzed by a realization that I was living in fear and was functioning with a mind and heart of timidity (remember my old blog, God’s Coward? That’s where the name came from…). The sudden awareness was just the initial flake, the rest of the snowball we can blame on my friend, mentor, and church planter, Kit. This is more about my journey but Kit played an essential role in it, hence his cameo.

The day after Ashley and I visited Northampton for the first time, we emailed Kit and his wife because we had heard about their recent move to the Pioneer Valley in an effort to begin a small church. Within a few weeks, we were grabbing coffee in downtown. There was an immediate connection between the four of us, but I was especially drawn towards the guy with the round-rimmed glasses and goatee. He would later point out that during our first meetings I would be “looking around the room and avoiding eye contact for any period of time”. This statement ended up being extremely significant…

Like I said, when we first met Kit, I was stepping into a new era of my life where I was beginning to examine myself objectively, as an outside observer. Who was I? Why did I act the way I did? I was on the brink of finding those out.

I do not remember why Kit and I met for the first time in his office. Perhaps there had been a conversation where I asked him to analyze my attic of baggage or it could have been a random aside like, “Hey, let’s get together some time to dig a little deeper”. Either way, I ended up sitting in that chair in his office telling my life story. I think for the first meeting or two we just talked. I let out stories, the tame and absurd, and whatever else came out of those dusty boxes.

Then I started getting feedback (this is when that whole “avoiding eye contact” thing came into the scene). Most of you know I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and fortunately for all of us, my heart has been beating steadily the past few years. Prior to that however, my heart was a bloody mess (there’s that darned British accent I toy with that Ash hates). I would lash out in frustration and fear. I would withdraw from people to be alone in my insecurity. I would wither until I had been in the dark enough and then I would emerge only to find myself spiraling downward again within a few weeks. I reached the point where I wanted to know what in the world was going on with me.

There’s a verse in the bible that says, “A man is a slave to whatever masters him”. This became the chapter title for that period of my life; I was a slave to fear and bitterness. I had trust issues from deep betrayals from dear friends and they were eating me from the inside out. As wet met, Kit pulled the layers back, gently I might add, and showed me the scars in their raw form.

I never made eye contact because I was unsure of myself. I lived my from affirmation to affirmation. This simply means that my worth was determined by what other people said about me. Did people like my style? I was good for a week. Did people think I was undependable? I would drown in despair. Did people think I was creative? I would get an energy boost. Did people think I was sub-par? I turned off the lights and went to bed.

I lived my life to make others happy. I had been twisted by foolish choices, getting burned, and pursuing my desires recklessly until I was a muddled mess. I loved God, but I felt unworthy and unclean. I understood grace but was a “toughen up” kind of guy. It was not until I realized that I was totally unable to pick myself up that I was able to melt away. Kit showed me that I was so unsure of myself because I had not yet figured out who I was.

This launched a journey (which we are all on) to figure out who I was and who I was meant to be. I’m still working on this today but there are some key elements I discovered right away.

1. I am who I am. This isn’t meant as a rebellious “this is just how I am” but rather as a “we are all unique and that is what is special about us and what makes us human”. This also is not an endorsement of submitting to sinful patterns but is rather meant to promote a mentality of “I can be a better me because there’s only one person who can be me”.
2. Being broken is okay. Most people have baggage. It’s okay to admit that we are insecure and fearful. As we know, Jesus didn’t come for the healthy but for the sick. I’m a bedraggled ragamuffin and you are too. Being broken means we were meant to be fixed (and whole) and can get back there.
3. I can’t do it alone. Humans are pack animals. We were not meant to live “independently” but “interdependently”, counting on one God and one another to help us through our struggles. We also aren’t meant to celebrate alone!
4. My identity should not be found in what I wear, who likes me, or my social status, but in my role as a Child of God who is unconditionally loved and accepted.
5. It doesn’t take long to get moving. While working for healing and going to counseling can take a long time and be issues of pride for many of us, there are always things we can do right away that move us further from the lies of worthlessness and hopelessness that riddle the atmosphere of our world and closer to the arms of love.

Like I said, this is a journey we are all on. Some of us haven’t started. Some of us have very few issues to overcome. Some of us will need some spiritual CPR to get us moving again, but the good news is that you are not alone. Take my story as an example of that.

The journey continues on today as I learn to be a good husband, friend, and servant. It is daunting, exciting, and most of all, humbling. So here’s to being meant for more than living as a trivialized puppet seeking affirmation from others. And, of course, a special thank you to Kit for teaching me what it means to really be a man, a son of God, and someone who can “look ‘em in the eye”.

Simple Gestures

This is a revision of a previous entry. I had written about a small group of us who had gone out to the streets a few days ago to hand out Christmas bags to the less fortunate. After reading my post however, I realized that it was a bit impersonal and I wanted to recount the experience in a different way…

Kit and Trish had been sending out emails for a few weeks, trying to pull in any last minute gifts before going out to buy materials for stuffing gift bags. They mentioned that they would be sending out nearly forty gift bags with the imagine team which I thought (foolishly) was an over estimation. In my strolls up and down Main Street these past few months, I would usually only come across a half-dozen or so homeless and street musicians.

I arrived to a flurry of activity in imagine’s meeting space overlooking the main intersection of town. There were piles of flashights, socks, gloves, scarves, toothbrushes, soap, gift cards, etc. strewn about the room, waiting to be placed into the rows of gift bags. Again, I thought to myself that forty bags was absurd but it really didn’t matter as we began to fill the bags to the top!

I was anxious to get outside and back into the cold air to hand out the bags as we double-checked to make sure each one had the appropiate ingedients. We assigned teams and then took a moment to pray before bundling up.

I was teamed up with Jen and we were the first out the door, taking a right to head towards the bridge on Main Street. I had come across men and women seeking refuge under the bridge many times but today there were only pedestrains casually passing by. We decideed to climb the stairs that took us to the topside of the bridge. Once there, we found a small group of men huddled around a bench by the train tracks. They were covered in thick coats and hunched their shoulders to keep their faces out of the wind. Jen and I tried to stall by looking down the path in the opposite direction (because there wre four of them, so we second guessed whether or not it would be wise to approach them) but realized quickly what an awkward avoidance that would have been…so we stepped up and greeted them.

As soon as we introduced ourselves and explained what we were doing, everyone was smiling and grinning. We ignored the bottle of cheap vodka on the bench, partially covered by the fringes of one man’s coat and continued on in our conversation. We found out rather quickly though that most of the shelters in the area were full for the night (it’s not even the coldest part of the season yet) and that a shelter nearby had recently closed. I asked more questions until one of the men looked at me and said something to the likes of, “Well,we just have to man up and sleep out here!”.

We chatted for a while longer until Jen and Ihad to move on to hand out the rest of the gifts, leaving the small group of men standing alone with their bags waiting for evening. I felt useless as I walked away, wishing that I had some warm place to offer temporary refuge. I was hoping that the gift bag would provide some warmth, physically and relationally, to help them through another day.

I have posted on homelessness before and received a wide variety of feedback- some responses are in support of offering aid (on any level) and some are against it, arguing that these people have made the conscious choice to live on the streets. Let me say that we offer gifts on an unconditional basis. We don’t give because some people “deserve” it. Those who live on the street are a mixed bag, for sure. Some of them have made disastrous life choices, injuring others and themselves, while others have had the extreme misfortune of personal injury and loss of work. We do not discriminate either way because we do not have to. We understand that if grace and mercy were gifts based on merit, many of us would be counted “unworthy”.

In fact, this is the essential component of Christianity. Undeserved grace. If we were to reflect some form of merit-based grace, we would be reflecting some other God besides the God of the Bible. When we go out to the streets to give Dunkin Donuts cards and warm socks, we do not discriminate. We cannot pretend to know the stories of these men and women. Are we foolish enough to stand in judgment and say that these people are destined to be street-dwellers for the rest of their life? Or, do we have a choice(perhaps even an obligation?) to offer what we can in the hope that they can find the support and strength to someday go to bed on a mattress that they own in an apartment or home where they can pay rent, taking baby steps on the path to healing…

Small gestures make the difference around here. Sometimes, that is the best thing we can offer. It may make no difference, or it may start a conversation, a relationship, an opportunity. We are not a “Go big or go home” people. We are more of a “Let’s see if we can help with our small pool of resources” group.

We went through more than half of our bags (a reality check for the times when I thought forty bags was too many) and there are some leftover to hand to those we did not see that day. If you feel like coming along with us next time, stop by Kit’s blog, imagine’s website, or leave me a comment and we’ll get you in on the fun.

Playing in the Rain

 

I took this while walking over to imagine/Northampton tonight. Since moving to Northampton, I’ve been keeping my eyes open for unique photographs that tell a story. While most of my work is portrait or wedding photography, my heart is in photojournalism.

There are always street musicians on Main Street but most were tucked away tonight, staying out of the rain. This guy was under a store awning, playing a type of xylophone. I usually shy away from pointing my camera at unsuspecting victims but this was a shot worth taking. He kept his head down, his face shaded by his cap, while people passed by covered by their umbrellas. His change plate looked mostly empty as he tapped his instrument. He was surrounded by shoes, each pair probably averaging $30-$60. Ironic.

There’s a man on the left who is walking by the musician. He tried to avoid getting in my shot but I got this one off before he walked around me. If I wasn’t there, he would have followed his straight line right past the man making music.

There are actually three stories here. The first is a man walking by a street musician who is playing in an entranceway to a closed retail store on a cold, rainy, winter evening.

Then, there is the story of the street musician: he could be an intentional wanderer, a guy down on his luck, a man about to make a change, etc. We don’t know his story. You’ve heard the phrase, “A picture is worth a thousand words…”? The end of that phrase could be ”…but there are thousands more to see”. Simply put, I am saying that there is an unread story here. We might have a pre-supposed idea of a street musicians story and his/her worth. Perhaps we need a different angle. We’ll never know his story.

The third story is similar. A man with no identity is walking by. He could have been on his way home or on his way to a meeting. He could be a businessman or a stay at home dad. We will never know who he is but there’s a story there too. He is a real person and has grown up in this world just like you and me, leading him to a moment in time where he will be frozen until long after I am dead and gone.

Chances are, we’re all in a photograph somewhere- maybe it was a New Year’s party at your friend’s house and someone has an image with you eating a fistful of Doritos in the background of their photo. Maybe a tourist was taking a shot of a busy street and you happened to be walking by at that exact moment…

There’s always more to the scene then what you see at first. Keep an eye out for the stories around you, especially the ones below the surface, you’ll be surprised at what you find.

I Miss This



It’s quiet here. Ashley and I are at my parents house for the weekend, visiting some CT friends and taking a breath. I’m reminded of how loud the city can be. There are car horns and sirens all day and night. The bars across town have young people yelling and laughing, filling the streets with their noise well into the wee hours of the morning. There are babies that cry in their strollers while moms chat outside of Woodstar Cafe and the big trucks grind theire gears a couple of feet away on Main Street. It can get pretty noisy.

Moving into a city is like taking a dive into a lake. While you are outside of the water, you can observe the tendencies of the waves, the reflection of the morning light off the surface, the surrounding vegetation, but you still don’t really know what the water feels like. Moving into the city is like diving off of the dock and being completely immersed in the unnatural life of city-dwelling. Much like swimming underwater, living in a city (for us) is not sustainable. For a while (a year or two), we’ve decided to live in downtown, to “experience” the sights and sounds of one of America’s most influential cities in the 1700′s. We wanted to know what it was like to be in the water before we decided that we didn’t want to get wet at all.

There is a reason behind this madness. You see, when you have a burning desire to live like Jesus, you know that you have to reach out to the “agora” (the marketplace), the metropolis, the center of thought and commerce. Some of you may love the city. We don’t. We like to visit cities like Boston, San Diego, and New York, and then leave them to continue on in their nutty existence. But we knew that we would never be able to reach out to Northampton if we didn’t dive in for a while to experience the sights, sounds, and tastes of the little city.

But here, it’s the light of the morning that wakes me up, not a dump truck emptying a dumpster. Here I can look out and see God’s handiwork in the naked trees, ready for winter. I can hear…almost nothing! Soon there will be some birds chirping and the occasional car that drives by, but that’s about it.

We’re wet from diving in and have learned quite a bit. But I miss this. I miss being in nature and in creation. I miss being able to walk outside and listen to the breeze in the branches of the maple and oak trees. I miss walking to the rivers edge where I know I can be alone. I miss walking through the woods and hopping from rock to rock down by the water. Imiss being able to smoke some pipe tobacco while reading some Psalms without worrying about being heckled. We’ve got a little while longer but I am truly excited to move to a house and live in a place like this.

We’ll continue to dive into the city, coming up for short breaths on holidays and long weekends, until we are sufficiently drenched and can continue our work from a quieter, more pure, gentle place. Thank God for every season.

More Than A Church

Kit recently asked me to write a few words about how imagine/Northampton has been challenging or impacting Ashley and me in Northampton. Here was my response:

Whenever Ash and I say that we are “going to a church” in Northampton, what we are really saying is, “we are following Jesus with a small group of other people who love our Lord and want to see his grace and mercy manfest in this city.” When we first came up here, there were lots of thoughts and ideas buzzing through our heads. We had recently gotten married, I had finished my degree a year ahead of schedule, and we had just moved to this city because we felt, after much prayer and consideration, that it was where God wanted us to be. Northampton was a love-hate relationship for us from the onset. We loved the culture and the colors of this historic place but we were struck by the pungent odor of pain and hurt that rose from beneath the surface. We knew immediately that this was an illustration of how God pursues his people; he looks for the dirtiest, most broken individuals and relationships, and moves in with them so that they can know of his abundant love. That is what he wants to do here. He wants to “move in”.
 
Prior to coming to the Pioneer Valley, we had heard the stories of church plants that have gone belly-up in the last decade. We had heard about communities of people who were committed to God’s heart for this town who found themselves face-down after only a few months. What was going to make us any different? Nothing. We’re not better or any less human than they were. In all honesty, it has nothing to do with “us” being “different”. The community of the people in imagine/Northampton is far more than a small group of people planting a church. Karen Bayne meets new people in town on a weekly basis and is forming friendships and relationships with other families and moms. Kit and Trish are handing out Bruegger’s Bagels gift cards to the hungry and the homeless. The other people on the team are reaching out to their neighbors, workplaces, and “third-spaces”. There is a missional drive that is taken over by a raw thirst for change by the folks in this church. We do not reach out because it seems like a good growth strategy, we reach out because we know that Jesus reaches with us and touches the hearts of the lonely, lost, wounded, confused, skeptical, and curious. Being a part of imagine is much more than being part of a church plant, it is being a part of kingdom work. It is being the answer to our prayer, “Your kingdom come and your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”

Paul and the Areopagus: Parallels with Northampton

Some thoughts on Paul’s confrontation with the Areopagus…

There are some parallels that can be drawn between Paul’s experience in Athens and the Christian’s experience in Northampton. It should be made known that, when I refer to a Christian, I am referring to a man or woman who is in a maturation process with a deep longing and thirst for closeness with our Lord, Yahweh. They are to be studying, praying, serving, and fasting regularly, moving from the fringes of nominal Christianity to a more centralized and dedicated focus on Christ and his life. Any other Christian, content with a holy-huddle and a low standard, might not be able to draw the following conclusion.

Paul was making his way through Greece and was just escorted out of Berea when this passage picks up in Acts 17:15. Those who helped him reach Athens had already departed back to Berea (bearing the message that Timothy and Silas should come and join him) and we can imagine Paul, strolling through the city, much like one would walk down the main street in Northampton.

As Paul walks around, observing his surroundings, he begins to notice the presence of idols. Records show that Athens had nearly 30,000 gods to whom there would be shrines, altars, and physical images built. The Greek words eidolon (“an image” or “figure”) and latris (“worshipper”) are the root words resulting in our modern day word “idolatry”. Acts records Paul’s emotional response for us:

“…his spirit was provoked within him as he saw that the city was full of idols.”

The Christian might walk down main street today and find many similar man-made ideas and images dedicated to various deities. Paul later began his speech to the Areopagus by referring to an alter “to an unknown god.” The Christian can see that same altar beneath the surface of the broken, weary, and lost, who find solace in giving themselves over to something they do not know. The Christian could observe the tattoo art and tribal identity marks to earthen gods and spiritual beings. They might be able to smell the incense being offered to the gods of depression, anxiety, anger, knowledge, greed, fear, and pride. They would see many, many idols in the store windows and the alleyways. They may, like Paul, begin to experience a rising storm in their soul, being stirred by a lovesick anger, jealous with compassion and cringing in pain.

Paul, in this state, goes to the Jews at first to speak about Jesus. He tries to win them over as he has done before but we see this may be to no avail in Acts. The Christian, in similar fashion, might go to local churches, the “devout persons” (17:17 – ESV), to “reason” with them, to ignite them, to call upon them. Paul also goes into the “agora”, or marketplace, to talk to the general populace, until he finds himself speaking with Epicurean and Stoic philosophers.

These philosophies are far from dead in our culture today. The Epicureans denied the existence of a god and instead were the “live for the moment” kind of people who felt that this life was all that existed and therefore, all that mattered. We have heard of this today, have we not?

The Stoics were pantheists, believing that everything is God, not that everything is God’s. God was not an actual being with a desire for intimacy with his creation. Their goal was to remain unaffected by the highs and lows in life and live a detached existence, abstaining from many pleasures so that they would know only the life of moderation.

The Christian in Northampton will see the Epicureans and the Stoics. They will observe those who deny a god altogether, idolizing the fullness of knowledge as life’s ultimate fulfillment. These people do not want to hear about God as he might frustrate their cycle of self-centered greed and pride. The Christian will also see the Stoic; the unattached, morbid, moral-relativistic reed that bends in a soft wind, believing that God is everything…a far cry from God having dominion over everything.

Paul is brought before the Areopagus to speak. Athens, as Luke says in Acts, was a city where “all the Athenians and the foreigners who lived there would spend their time in nothing except telling or hearing something new (v. 21 – ESV).” So, they gave Paul an audience because they wanted to know “…this new teaching is that you are presenting? For you bring some strange things to our ears. We wish to know therefore what these things mean.”

Paul goes on to lay out a succinct and bold message before his curious listeners, eventually concluding with the resurrection of Jesus which, as expected, created a divide. Some believed, some did not, and some others just wanted to hear more about this God-man, Jesus. Paul was not accusatory in his speech. He was straightforward and used some of their own Athenian writing to help illustrate his point. His charge was simply, “The times of ignorance God overlooked, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent.”

What would happen if the Christian, in a city that, for the most part, views the Christian God as irrelevant or offensive, began to speak about Jesus to the religious elite, the average joe, and then the academics? Northampton is a city that values knowledge. Religion, especially Christianity, is viewed as a harmful element in society that needs to be dismissed. For many, it has caused serious pain and frustration. Other just don’t like it. Still others have formed a hostility as they view Jesus and his followers as corrosive fundamentalists.

I’m afraid that much of the Christianity in Northampton has Jonathan Edwards rolling over in his grave. There is a cheap-grace or no-grace mentality. Simply put, Christianity has to be affirming of all practices, beliefs, and values, or non-existent. Sorry Jon, we messed up.

Let’s be clear that while I am discussing Northampton, I am considering the American development as a whole. The Christian minority in Northampton is thinking, fasting, and praying to seek God’s heart for this town. Idols reign here. False gods reign here. False teachers promote their ideas and lead more and more people into a twisted form of Christianity. I pray that the Christian, like Paul, would experience a burning for this town – a jealousy, a fearsome boldness to speak true love into the messed up hearts around here. I pray that they would be brought to their knees, pleading for God to return to us and rest here as he did in the 1700′s.

There is a sign in town that says “Ideas live here”, I hope that one day that sign would read, “Jesus lives here”.

Why Do You Love?

Fasting has brought me to a place where I’ve been revealed as a more selfish being than previously thought. I have seen an emergence of another side that spits back at God when his answers are slow or riddled. When his recent answer to my question regarding my lack of work was “wait” I was temporarily satiated with an answer. However, as soon as “waiting” became inconvenient and went beyond my specified time restraints, I was face to face with the monster within. As this revelation unfolded, I came to see that, in my life, God’s mercy, grace, and goodness, have been largely expected and taken advantage of.

I’ve been out of work after leaving my job about two weeks ago. I left because I was plagued a with never-ending tiredness and dreariness and I was straining my relationships with an inability to accommodate the early morning work hours. Some people adapt quickly and some don’t. I’m one of the ones that never get used to waking up at three or four in the morning. I would walk in the door at night and flop onto the couch like a grumpy old man. Now, I’ve been looking for a job that can significantly contribute to our monthly bills and the forecast for work is, in honesty, quite bleak.

Don’t get me wrong, there are jobs. The issue is that many of those I’ve come across require a green card and a drug screen. The other jobs are less than 20 hours a week and, as most of you know, that doesn’t really help when living in a city. Starting my own business will not help make significant income for a while. So, during this fast, I’ve been pouring over online job postings and glancing up at God with a What are you doing up there? snotty appeal. You can understand the frustration, right?

Yesterday was when the scenario spiked. I sank into the couch in frustration and argued with God in my head. I’ve been praying and interceding for days. Weeks! Maybe even months. I’ve moved my family up here to serve you! And now you won’t give me a full time job that has some kind of positive element in it? What gives?!

Then it hit me. How had I become such a spoiled brat?

God has provided for us in immense ways and has proved himself faithful time and time over. Yet I still find myself raising a fist at the sky and sulking around an apartment when I don’t get what I think I deserve. Who died and made me king? I believe that there is a job out there for me, and that my Daddy wants to provide it, but he wanted to make sure that I wasn’t loving him out of selfishness. He wanted to show me that I was motivated by a dark goal and not out of full-grown, mature, dedicated love. He’s “refining me” as we say. I could probably trace some of my prayers back and find the time when I asked God to lead me, guide me, grow me, and refine me. So, it’s pretty obvious that this is a lesson I asked for. Jesus is an effective teacher (the best), not an easy one…he wants to make sure that we learn rather than pass with an easy A.

So, I suppose that my question would be for any of you reading this is, Would you love God even if he wasn’t showering you with gifts this very moment? Why do you love and serve God just because he is good, holy, and faithful? Just because he is God?

Thank God for his grace to learn, repent, and get back on track.

Staring into Fire

Okay. Now that the random assortment of pillows are organized on our bed I can take a breath from cleaning and applying for jobs to continue writing…

Yesterday I gave a rapid overview of the past few weeks which, as expected, concluded in some passionate thoughts that jumped into the post before I shut my laptop. I suspect that this post will continue that trend.

About a week after Ashley got back from IHOP – KC, we had the privilege of going to the Onething conference in West Haven, CT. We turned it into a mini-retreat and got a hotel room that was a half mile from the event. We listened intently to Wes Martin, a guy we had never heard of before, speak about God’s call for a generation of forerunners and watchmen – two terms you would become very familiar with if you read any of the material from IHOP. There were many words of truth spoken but there was one story that stood out to me from the rest. (Do you recall from my last post that verse from scripture, “A man is a slave to whatever masters him”? (II Peter 2:19) We’re going to get into that again…)

apparently, it is illegal to become a Christian in Cairo, Egypt. If you are born into a Christian family, you are free and clear, but if you switch from being a Muslim to being a Christian, you could be imprisoned. Worse yet, your family will disown you. This sets the stage for a house of prayer that exists in downtown Cairo…

Wes was speaking with the leader of that house of prayer and became intrigued by the regular occurences of Muslims becoming Christians. Feeling it was an appropriate question, Wes asked how it was that so many people were risking imprisonment and isolation in an area where becoming a Christian is a big deal…

The leader simply responded, “We pray the crazy prayer!”

Wes, waiting for a more detailed or extravagant plan, stopped taking notes and looked at the man puzzled. “What’s the crazy prayer?”

Simply put, the crazy prayer was what happened when all the people in that house of prayer began to pray for just ONE Muslim friend. They would pray for days, weeks, and even months until that friend came to the house of prayer. The situation that follows the crazy prayer is not uncommon; these Muslims will come to the HOP after being stirred up with visions and dreams of a man named Jesus. When they’ve had enough, they’ll ask, “Who is this man Jesus? Tell me about him!”

Very quickly, many of these same Muslims will express a desire to convert to Christianity. Because of the risk of becoming a Jesus-follower in Cairo, the pastor or leader of the HOP will take some time to sit down and talk through the implications of professing Jesus as Lord. They will warn them again that they will essentially ave to face imprisonment if they are found, or lose their identity and leave the area.

After the leader has poured out all of the risks and threats, the Muslim will look back and say, “Thank you for your concern, honestly. But have you seen Jesus’ eyes?”

Wow. That story totally landed on me and stuck to me like glue. These people were fearless because they had experienced a higher awe by having encountered Jesus in a profound way. The threats were real, but they became irrelevant as these Muslims decided that the gaze of Jesus was more convincing than any other man, idea, or thought.

So this comes full swing back to that verse in II Peter, “A man is a slave to whatever masters him.” Perhaps an appropriate question could be, “Whose eyes are you staring into?”

I believe that the gaze of Jesus is more powerful than the gaze of any other idol, idea, or man. If we are staring into the eyes of one whose eyes are like a blazing fire (Rev. 1:14), what other gaze can conjure up fear? After looking straight at Jesus and experiencing the power of his love and jealousy for us (and tarrying there as long as possible), whose gaze can melt our hearts?

I am spending time daily praying that Jesus would reveal his heart for me, and that he would let me see his jealousy and passion for his people. I want to be in a place of wonder before his throne where I become oblivious to the threats and concerns of this world. This doesn’t mean that we are to be unwise; it is simply a burning desire to be engrossed in this man, who is God, and let the awesomeness of that reality dictate our lives, thoughts, hopes, and fears.

Whose eyes are you looking into? Lock eyes with Jesus. Let his gaze determine your steps. Let his stare penetrate your fortified heart and mind. His eyes are more powerful than anything, because it is that same burning passion that led him to a cross where every blow of a nail and every drop of blood had to seek his permission before he was pinned to a tree and his blood pooled on the ground below – for us.

Stare into fire.

Embers

I’m not sure how to go about bringing you up to speed on what’s been going on here in the Pioneer Valley because so much has happened in such a short while…

Let’s start with Ashley.

A while ago, we had decided to take some of our money and send Ash on a trip with a handful of other women to IHOP-KC (the International House of Prayer – Kansas City).  Without much fanfare, the day arrived and she was on her way to Missouri. We had felt a few weeks/months prior that a retreat was necessary – for both of us. We knew that sending Ashley to a place that was bathed in prayer where she would receive teaching and nourishment for her soul was a good use of our money and would be a boost to our spirits as a newly married couple…all I can say is that God came through.

From the airport back to our apartment, Ashley talked  nonstop about what God was saying and doing in the church (global), what he was saying to this generation, and what he had for our marriage. I was finally able to wrestle free of the momentary envy (I had really wanted to go!) as Ash pulled out several books and resources that she had purchased and won in a raffle. All the while she was continuing to talk and explain the things that had transpired over the short trip, resulting in a burn that began to develop in my spirit. I looked at the books and began to devour them that night. God was pulling us forward in tandem, no questions asked!

We began to dig into Nazirite DNA by Lou Engle – a book that calls for intentional consecration for the sake of Christ (some of your are familiar with it). I also began to get into Prayers to Strengthen Your Inner Man and John Piper’s biography on Johnathan Edwards, A God Entranced Vision of All Things. My soul was beginning to swell after a few short days. These books were revealing desires and thoughts that I had held onto for years though I had felt alone in them and often ended up far from the mark…

I recall a frustrating friendship a while ago that would bounce back and forth between being God-honoring and rebellious. The cord was finally cut when I realized that I had a burning desire to pursue obedience and holiness in my life rather than momentary pleasures, and that I didn’t want to be tied to people who spoke a gospel of cheap grace into my soul. At that point, I wasn’t quite able to express this desire quite so clearly and it has taken me a few years to finally understand what that growing flame was; it was a calling to be a “holy nation”, a “chosen priesthood”. It had been an ember in my soul since I was a child and these defining moments were the times when God breathed on the ember and made it multiply, glow brighter, and burn hotter.

If you’ve read my blogs for a while, you are probably familiar with the passionate posts that were nothing short of rebukes to the church of today. While some of these were not timely or entirely appropriate (many of them were written before I understood the extent or true source of my frustrations), they came out of a heart that was watching the Bride of Christ in America get sucked into a culture that worships gods like complacency, relevance, independence, and mirrors (self-image, pride).

As the embers have grown and been fanned into a flame, I’ve come to see that my heart cry was not the temporary zealous yelp of my youth as I had been told it was. My soul longing for intimacy with Christ and the pursuit of holiness was much more than that as a teenager and it is much more than that now…it is the calling of the Jesus follower. It is the essence of being a Christian. It is the inevitable longing of those who are fed up with a sin-ravaged world.

These past few months have led me down a path where the idea of “church” has began to morph into a new animal (or an old animal, depending on how you look at it).While I believe that there is a place for the church of today, I believe that we are on the brink of a generation that is no longer impressed with cool ministries, relevant technological presentations, and hip church cultures. I believe that prayer and fasting are going to become central and vital to the Bride of Christ in America (and anywhere else where it hasn’t happened). I believe that people will begin to feel the pull on their souls towards their creator and they will desire him in his fullness, not our interpretation of who is for the sake of relevance.

There is a divide coming. Those who are dedicated to the cause of Christ will no longer stand on the fringes of Christian culture, but will put up an offering and put forth a cry that will turn lives and hearts to Christ. They will no longer cater to culture, but will direct it by being the only solid foundation in a shifting and weakening society that embraces pluralism and universalism. Those who are not committed to Christ will voluntarily step away from the call as more sacrifice is required. They will choose Mammon. They will choose self-worship. They will choose convenience. They will choose a gospel that requires nothing of anybody…a gospel of happiness, not holiness. Again, I belive a divide is coming.

The church needs people who spend time letting their hearts be humbled and crushed under the magnitude of the cross. I heard a speech recently that accused many of us of having a “low view of God”. It gets at the heart behind why we walk in sin…if we really spent time trying to understand the gravity of God’s heart for us, we would begin to live in a holy fear of him rather than a spineless bending towards the pressures of our world. I believe we have a low view of God.

“A man is a slave to whatever masters him” is a promise from scripture. It says that we will be under the direction of whatever we bow our knees before.  If we bow our knees before a loving God, we will be his “slave”. If we bow our knees to society, we will be societies “slave”.  Who do we bow to? Who you you bow to? Who or what masters you?

I’m running out of time. I hope to post more on the Onething conference in West Haven and some other stories, but I hope you take some time to think about what I’ve begun to uncover here.

Are you going to stand on the fringes of what it means to be sought after by God? Are you going to follow part-time? How are you going to respond?

I recently heard a story of a girl who had decided to become a Muslim and when asked why she did this (choosing Islam over Christianity) responded with a searing reality, “Because they require more of me”. What do you think of that?

More to come…