Cupful of Conversations

MOVED!

2009-10-16T10:15:00.002-04:00

Hello fellow readers:

Just a quick note to let you know that my Cupful of Conversations blog has moved to a new domain:

http://commongrace.wordpress.com

You will need to resubscribe. Please continue to follow! I'll be posting new entries soon.

Peace,

Dale

Both

2009-10-02T12:06:00.006-04:00

St. Paul wrote, "Speak the truth in love."

Many centuries later, most of us are still struggling to live this out.

There are some who gravitate toward truth without love. They are often characterized by doctrinal rigidity and moral scrupulosity. If a pastor preaches a sermon on a given passage of Scripture without explaining the meaning of every verse, they accuse him of "not sticking to the text." If he preaches, as Luther did, that sanctification is simply a matter of getting used to our justification, he is accused of "not preaching obedience and holiness." Jesus had something to say to folks like this many years ago in the city of Ephesus:

"I know you cannot tolerate wicked men.. you have tested those who claim to be apostles but are not. . Yet I hold this against you: you have forsaken your first love. . . If you do not repent, I will come to you and remove your lampstand from its place." (Revelation 2:2, 4-5)

There are others who gravitate toward love without truth. They are often characterized by a desire to be relevant and inclusive. If a pastor preaches a sermon on a passage of Scripture which addresses the problems of sexual immorality, they dismiss him as old fashioned at best, judgmental at worst. Jesus had something to say to folks like this many years ago in the city of Thyatira:

"I know your deeds, your love and faith, your service and perseverance. . Nevertheless, I have this against you: You tolerate that woman Jezebel, who calls herself a prophetess. By her teaching she misleads my servants into sexual immorality. . I will make those who commit adultery with her suffer intensely, unless they repent of her ways." (Revelation 2:19-20, 22).

Truth without love is toxic. Love without truth is fluff. When you put truth and love together, however, the result is a life characterized not simply by a combination of the two, but something else altogether. In the words of Eugene Peterson, in his marvelous commentary on Revelation:

"St. John is a poet, using words to intensify our relationship with God. He is not trying to get us to think more accurately or to train us into better behavior, but to get us to believe more recklessly, behave more playfully-- the faith recklessness and hope-playfulness of children entering the kingdom of God. He will jar us out of our lethargy, get us to live on the alert, open our eyes to the burning bush and fiery chariots, open our hearts to the hard-steel promises and commands of Christ, banish boredom from the gospel, lift up our heads, enlarge our hearts."

Listen to Jesus and you will hear the truth, but you will also become a playful and reckless lover.

The Spirit of Creativity

2009-03-27T21:00:00.002-04:00

Christians often debate what it means to be "filled with the Holy Spirit." On one end of the debate spectrum Pentecostals are accused of being fanatical in their emphasis on tongue-speaking and healing as evidences of the Spirit's presence. On the other end of the spectrum Presbyterians are accused of not putting enough (if any) emphasis on the Spirit's ministry. Somewhere in the middle, Baptistic and non-denominational contemporary churches that draw large crowds of suburban Promise Keepers are sometimes accused of insinuating that emotional expressiveness in the worship service is the key indicator that "the Spirit is moving".

While these debates may have a place, it is interesting that when this topic is discussed and debated, a key passage of the Bible goes strangely unmentioned: Exodus 31:1-5.

These 5 verses deal with a man named Bezalel. Not a well known character in the Scriptures.

Who was he? The first person to be said to be filled with the Holy Spirit.

What was the result of the Spirit's filling? He became an artist. He created. He skillfully made crafts of exquisite beauty. This was his ministry, and according to verse 3, the very purpose for which God filled him.

This shouldn't seem odd to us-- after all, the first verses of the Bible make clear that as the Spirit of God hovered over the surface of the earth, a cacophony of creating erupted upon the scene. And God "saw that it was good."

But why is this not discussed more often? Could it be that it seems rather uninteresting to us when compared to the thought of having an extraordinary spiritual experience? Perhaps, but isn't the pleasure of great music, beautiful art, and a well-written movie an extraordinary spiritual experience? Some would say yes, but only if the music, art, and movie is explicitly Christian. But this view hinders us from viewing all of life as sacred, and thus makes Jesus mistaken when He said that even the rocks will cry out in praise to God.

God loves creativity, and will express it through anyone He chooses.

At a little pottery studio in Baltimore, my youngest daughter painted a ceramic cat purple and pink. As her tongue crept out of the right side of her mouth, she focused on the joy of creating. It was then that I understood why Jesus told us to become like little children: For Annie, it was not about staying within the lines or getting recognized for her abilities. It was simply about the joy of painting.

Annie just may understand the Gospel better than I do.

You see, the Scripture says "Where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom". Freedom to create, freedom to fail, and freedom to enjoy all things beautiful. It also teaches that the primary job of the Holy Spirit is not to draw attention to ourselves or even to the Holy Spirit, but to point people to Jesus-- that they would gaze upon His beauty.

In what ways do you see the Spirit's evidence around you?

Coming Soon

2009-03-19T14:26:00.003-04:00

Hi friends. Yes, I realize I have been in a bit of a blog lull lately! Sorry about this. I've been a bit busy with other ministerial duties lately, but I promise there will be more posts VERY soon. Stay tuned.

I greatly appreciate all of your inquiries and comments.

Moments of Grace, Time After Time

2009-03-12T19:56:00.009-04:00

Shelley and I love 80's music.

Last night we cuddled in bed and watched VH1's "100 Greatest Songs of the 80's". What an experience! We laughed at the hairstyles of The Cure, while remembering how it felt to be in junior high dancing to their hit "Just Like Heaven". We sang along with Bon Jovi's "Livin' on a Prayer", while chuckling at the fact that I still listen to them. And of course we immediately remembered Jenny's phone number as soon as the show's narrator mentioned Tommy Tutone-- 867-5309.

But near the end of the show we experienced what I can only call a moment of grace. Cyndi Lauper's hit "Time After Time" was highlighted. I've never really considered myself a Cyndi Lauper fan, but the beauty of that song is beyond words. Co-written and sung with Rob Hyman, the lyrics, the melody, and the passion with which it is performed remind us that songs like this are in existence so that all who hear it will simply enjoy it and experience a moment of grace.

If you're lost, you can look-- and you will find me
time after time.
If you fall, I will catch you-- I'll be waiting
time after time.

Moments of grace, time after time.

My Love Affair with Four Women

2009-02-24T22:31:00.002-05:00

Last Tuesday morning during breakfast, the 1989 Bon Jovi hit "I'll Be There For You" came through the speakers of the kitchen radio we sometimes turn on for background mood music while we eat. Shelley and I smiled at each other. We then set down our coffee mugs, got up from the table, embraced in a hug, and began to slow dance. This was a moment of grace.

The next afternoon I was downstairs in my study when our two-and-a-half year old Annie quietly knocked on the door, poked her head in and asked, "Daddy, can you hold my hand and help me walk on the balance beam?" This also was a moment of grace.

On Saturday I had to attend a meeting all day, and just before I left, our six-year-old Carly kissed me and gave me a post-it note on which she had written: "I love you. Try not to miss us today." Another moment of grace.

On Sunday morning I served bread and wine to the many in my church who came forward to receive it. As I looked into the eyes of each individual and said "The Body of Christ given for you," I was overcome with the reality of how lavishly these amazing people have loved me, and how deeply I have fallen in love with them-- Christ's Body, His Bride. A moment of grace.

Shelley, Carly, Annie, and the Bride of Christ. Four women I love. Four women who love me.

Moments of grace.

Looseness Makes a Marriage Healthy

2009-02-16T10:59:00.028-05:00

Brennan Manning tells the following story:

A man walked into the doctor’s office and said, "Doctor, I have this awful headache that never leaves me. Could you give me something for it?"

"I will," said the doctor, "but I want to check a few things out first. Tell me, do you drink a lot of liquor?"

"Liquor?" said the man indignantly. "I never touch the filthy stuff."

"How about smoking?"

"I think smoking is disgusting. I’ve never in my life touched tobacco."

"I’m a bit embarrassed to ask this, but you know the way some men are-- do you do any running around at night?"

"Of course not. What do you take me for? I’m in bed every night by ten o’clock at the latest."

"Tell me," said the doctor, "the pain in the head you speak of, is it a sharp, shooting kind of pain?"

"Yes," said the man. "That’s it-- a sharp, shooting kind of pain."

"Simple, my dear fellow! Your trouble is you have your halo on too tight. All we need to do is loosen it a bit."

Manning follows up the story with this statement: The trouble with our ideals is that if we live up to all of them, we become impossible to live with.

He's right, and Shelley and I have learned that nowhere is this more true than in the realm of marriage. When a person expects their spouse to be like Jesus, they eventually become angry, frustrated, and convinced that the majority of the problems in their marriage are due to their spouse not being committed or godly enough.

On the other hand, when a person accepts their spouse as a sinner loved by Jesus, they become understanding, affectionate, uncritical, honest about their own flaws, and joyful that they are loved by Jesus no matter what. They begin to realize that the sins of their past and their spouse's past have not only been forgiven by Jesus, but forgotten by him as well. They begin to realize that being a "godly example" does not mean striving to be better and avoid mistakes, but letting people see them repent and be forgiven when they make mistakes.

Two theological terms are important for us to understand at this point:

Justification is the act of being declared righteous by God. We are justified by believing the Gospel (the good news that Jesus died for our sins and rose from the dead).

Sanctification is the process of growing in godliness and becoming more like Jesus.

But here's the question: If justification is obtained by believing the Gospel, how is sanctification obtained? If you answered "by obeying," or "by striving to live up to high ideals," then you might as well rip Colossians chapters 2 and 3 and all of Romans and Galatians out of your Bible.

The fact is, justification and sanctification are both obtained by believing the Gospel. Living by the Law is what made Saul an angry person. He was in conflct with Christians not because they were preaching Law and morality, but because they were preaching grace and he feared that their message would lead people into a life of moral laxity and disregard for obedience. As a result, he became "impossible to live with." People were in conflict with Jesus not because he was commanding people to be like Him, but because he accepted people who were not like Him-- and for that matter, who didn't even love Him.

How intimate is your marriage? Has the romance faded? Do you blame yourself and your spouse for things that happened years ago? Have you forgotten that Jesus has justified you and forgotten your sins? Have you placed such high ideals on your spouse that you find yourself constantly disappointed in him or her? Do you find yourself thinking that if only your spouse tried harder and obeyed more your marriage would be better? Have you forgotten that Jesus perfectly obeyed the Law on your behalf, and that "He who began a good work in you WILL carry it to completion on the day of Christ Jesus"?

If so, loosen your halo and believe the Gospel. Not only will you be a lot easier to live with, but you'll be amazed at how your romance will blossom.

The Uncontainable God

2009-02-11T18:55:00.017-05:00

I love the music of the Indigo Girls. Amy Ray and Emily Saliers-- the multiple Grammy winning acoustic alternative-folk-rock duo from Atlanta-- are best known for their piercing harmonies, poetic lyrics and smooth guitar riffs reminiscent of Dylan but with a flavor all its own.

I was first introduced to their music in 1989, and have been hooked ever since. I've seen them in concert 3 times, each of which was mesmerizing to say the least.

Over the years some Christians have expressed disapproval of the Indigo Girls because of their lifestyles and lack of affiliation with a formal church. While I understand their concerns, I will always stick up for these girls for this reason: Their music was a major factor in my own coming to faith.

The first Indigo Girls song I heard back in 1989, contained these words:

We go to the Bible
We go through the workout
We read up on revival
We stand up for the lookout.

I thought to myself, "Hmmm. . Maybe I should check out the Bible." And so I did, for which I am glad.

Soon thereafter, I bought their album Strange Fire and heard these words:

Hey Jesus, it's me. I'm sorry.
I don't remember all I said.
I had a few-- no, too many
And they went straight to my head
And made me feel like I could argue with God.

I thought to myself, "Hmmm.. maybe I should try talking to Jesus, and apologize for being such a stubborn sinner." And so I did, for which I am glad.

In recent years I have had the privilege of meeting and conversing with Emily Saliers (the woman in the above picture) on two separate ocassions, both of which were in churches where she performed with her father, Dr. Don Saliers. Emily is friendly, soft-spoken, uninterested in being a celebrity, and oddly comfortable in church, though she has had many differences over the years with organized religion. Dr. Saliers is a Methodist minister, Seminary professor, accomplished musician, and a wonderful man who loves his daughter. A friend of mine and I shared coffee with him one morning at the Starbucks on the campus of Emory University. When I told him that Emily's music played a part in my own coming to faith, he smiled, said "that's interesting," and reminded me of a line in one of the great hymns of the church, "Everywhere man can be, thou God art present there." His point: God refuses to be contained within labels such as "sacred" or "secular", but makes himself known in ways that surprise many.

On one of the most recent Indigo Girls albums, Emily sings these words:

There is fire and there is lust
Some will trade it all for someone they could trust
There's a bag of silver for a box of nails
It's so simple, the betrayal
Though it's known to change the world and what's to come.

Yes, the Gospel is indeed known to change the world. And don't be surprised if someday you are reminded of this fact by someone you least expect-- a grungy activist rock star who doesn't spend a lot of time in church, for example.

Quotes

2009-02-08T17:52:00.002-05:00

If I had to choose my favorite quotes, it would be hard to narrow it down to my top 100. Nevertheless, here are three I love.

Martin Luther: There are some who have no understanding to hear the truth of freedom. . . These people you must resist, do the very opposite, and offend them boldly lest by their impious views they drag many with them into error. For the sake of liberty of the faith do other things which they regarded as the greatest of sins… use your freedom constantly and consistently in the sight of and despite the tyrants and stubborn so that they may learn that they are impious, that their law and works are of no avail for righteousness, and that they had no right to set them up.

Tim Keller: Perhaps the biggest faith-deterrent for the average person today is not so much violence and warfare but the shadow of fanaticism. Many non-believers in Christianity have friends or relatives that have become ‘born again’ and seem to have gone off the deep end. They soon begin to loudly express disapproval of various groups and sectors of our society—especially movies and television, the Democratic party, homosexuals, evolutionists, activist judges, members of other religions (all of which are branded ‘false’) and public schools. When arguing for the truth of their faith they often appear intolerant and self-righteous. This is what many people would call fanaticism. . . So think of people you consider as fanatical. They are over-bearing, self-righteous, opinionated, insensitive, harsh. Why are they so? It is not because they are too fanatically committed to Christ and his gospel, but rather because they are not fanatical enough. They are fanatically zealous and courageous, but they are not fanatically humble, sensitive, loving, empathetic, forgiving, or understanding as Christ was. Because they think of Christianity as a self-improvement moral framework they emulate the Jesus of the whips in the temple, but not the Jesus who said, “let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” (John 8:7) What strikes us as overly-fanatical is actually a failure to be fully-orbed in our commitment to Christ.

Rich Mullins: The gospel. . broke the power of mere "moralistic religiosity" in my life, and revived a deeper acceptance that had long ago withered in me. In our society, we tend to swear unyielding allegiance to a rigid position, confusing that action with finding a connection to a life-giving Spirit. We miss the gospel of Christ: the good news that, although the holy and all-powerful God knows we are dust, He still stoops to breathe into us the breathe of life-- to bring our wounds the balm of acceptance and love.

Extremes

2009-02-07T19:57:00.001-05:00

Tonight my six-year-old-daughter asked me, "Daddy, for your birthday do you want a diet or do you want to stay in bed and eat cheesecake?" I couldn't help but laugh as this sweet, smiling angel posed such an out-of-the-blue question.

The reality, however, is that her question served to remind me of the extremes by which I live my life.

For some people, falling into bad habits is something that happens slowly and subtly. Not me. When I fall, I fall hard--- and crash!

Strangely, I always seem to get back up again and resume my pre-crash mode of living.

Two examples:

Number One: I'm a very healthy eater, and I exercise almost every day. But every so often when I get a craving for some rest and a treat, I don't simply go slower than usual on the treadmill and then eat a cookie. No, I eat a pizza, drink a liter of coke, and follow it up with a bowl of ice-cream and seven evenings of sitting on the couch watching TV. Then I top it all off with a touch of hating myself for a day or two. When the stomach aches and self-loathing subside, I'm back to lifting weights, running three miles a day, and eating nothing but spinach, walnuts, and organic quinoa for 6 months.

Number Two: I go long periods of time getting along with everyone I know and feeling joyful just to be alive. And then one random person I don't even know very well criticizes me and immediately my emotional armor disappears, leading me to spend the next 7 days stewing and thinking of ways I can criticize them in return. When that's over, I hang out with and hug that person while we laugh and drink coffee, which they generously bought for me.

Billy Joel sang, "Darlin' I don't know why I go to extremes". I don't know either, but I'm thankful my family and my church love me the same either way. I now know that the reason I'm always able to resume my pre-crash mode of life after my extreme crashes is not because of any ability I possess within myself, but because I'm surrounded by people whose grace for me is extreme.

Grace Under Fire

2009-02-06T12:21:00.001-05:00

The Gospel is the death and resurrection of Jesus-- nothing more and nothing less (1st Corinthians 15:3).

We portray it as something more when we fail to acknowledge that Christ's death and resurrection is ALL we need to be put into right standing before God--- in other words, obeying the Law (10 commandments) in addition to believing the Gospel will not somehow improve upon our standing before God (Galatians 3:6-14).

We portray it as something less when we fail to acknowledge the offensive depth of our own sin and the lengths Christ went to in order to forgive us for failing to obey the Law: In other words, He not only took the punishment we deserved for breaking His Law, He obeyed it perfectly and gave us the credit for it (Romans 4:7-15).

When we portray the Gospel as something more than or less then Christ's death and resurrection, we are left not with a distortion of the Gospel, but with no Gospel at all (Galatians 1:6-10).

Many have a hard time with this, and seem to believe that if a person confesses Christ as Lord and Savior but doesn't have all of their theological ducks and ethical standards in a row, they can't be a Christian. Truth be known, I often feel this way. I struggle to believe that God could possibly love a continual lawbreaker like myself. It seems too radical to believe there is nothing I can do to earn God's love or to increase His love for me once He has given it. So, I revert to living by Law, because it is safer than letting God love me. It is less radical than falling upon His grace and believing that Jesus didn't preach to us from a distance but came and lived with us, eating with whores and rebuking theological nitpickers who believed the whores needed Law rather than forgiveness. It provides a deeper sense of pride in me when I can tell people they are going to hell without having to build a relationship with them and look into their eyes when they are feeling confused from the bad decisions they have made. I'm afraid that if I preach His grace to others, they will misunderstand it and think they can live in sin and not experience the consequences. I'm afraid that if I do not preach Law to myself, I will start doing really terrible things and enjoying it.

This mindset not only reveals that MY theology and ethical standards are not sound, but more strikingly it reveals that I don't understand the love of God in Christ.

I have disregarded the words of the Apostle Paul in Romans chapter 4:

For what the Law was powerless to do in that it was weakened by the sinful nature, God did by sending his own Son in the likeness of sinful man to be a sin offering.

I have made a mockery of William Cowper's words that appear in every church hymnal:

How long beneath the Law I lay
In bondage and distress.
I toiled the precept to obey
But toiled without success.
But to see the Law by Christ fulfilled,
To hear His pardoning voice
Changes a slave into a child
And duty into choice.

I have reveled in being a Protestant who upholds Reformed Theology, but have ignored the foundational belief set forth by the very one who launched the Protestant Reformation, Martin Luther:

The greatest knowledge, and the highest wisdom of Christians is, not to know the law-- to be ignorant of works, and of the whole active righteousness, especially when the conscience wrestles with God. . . But it is a strange thing and unknown to the world, to teach Christians to be ignorant of the law, and to live before God as if there were no law: notwithstanding, unless you are ignorant of the law, and are assuredly persuaded in your heart that there is now no law, nor wrath of God, but only grace and mercy for Christ's sake, you cannot be saved; for by the law comes the knowledge of sin. Contrariwise, works and the keeping of the law is so strictly required in the world, as if there were no promise, or grace.

Thank you Jesus, for being "born of a woman, born under law, to redeem those under law, that we might receive the full rights on sons." I thank you that I am "no longer a slave, but a son." I thank you that since I am your son, learning to walk is not a burden. It's great to know that you don't get mad at me when I stumble and fall. Instead you pick me up, and are thrilled that I am walking at all. Amen.

Consistently Inconsistent

2009-02-05T11:25:00.006-05:00

The most consistent thing about me is this: I am inconsistent. Terribly inconsistent.

I hate my inconsistencies, because I'm tired of having to constantly justify myself before others. Living this way eventually becomes enslaving.

But then I realize that we're all this way. And suddenly I love my inconsistencies, because they remind me that I don't have to justify myself before others. Believing this way immediately becomes freeing.

There are plenty of inconsistencies in our lives:

A Christian angrily expresses his disdain for socialism, while using the U.S. postal system to send his bill payments with the money he makes teaching public school (where he earns a salary that qualifies him for a governmental stimulus check, which he gladly signs and deposits in his FDIC insured bank account).

An individual asserts that religion is narrow-minded, so he chooses to be an atheist because it is the only belief that makes sense.

A couple is so against their church relocating that they decide to leave and go to another church-- thus, relocating.

A gay couple proudly dons a rainbow sticker in their car window to show the public that they stand for diversity, while the attendees at their parties are predominately gay couples who voted for Obama.

A Christian agrees that relationships are vital to growing a healthy church, and is upset that his church doesn't organize a program to go door to door asking total strangers why God should let them into heaven if they were to die tonight.

A man chooses only to vote for candidates who are "pro-life" (meaning against abortion), but has never once wept for the Iraqis the U.S. has killed, saying "That's different. It's a war."

A woman complains that her church is not compassionate enough, but gets upset when her church gives gifts to inner-city poor people who are are jobless and unappreciative.

A man gets mad when someone tells him God isn't mad at him.

A person believes that all religions are equally valid paths to God, but refuses to go to a church that believes Jesus is God.

A pastor preaches that husbands are to love their wives as Christ loves the church, and later that night he rolls his eyes when his wife asks him to take out the trash and give the kids a bath.

A couple criticizes their church for years, and then they blame the youth ministry when their own kids eventually turn away from the church.

A heterosexual couple gets worried when a homosexual couple attends their church, but refuse to acknowledge and repent of their own sin of legalism.

Wouldn't it be easier to stop fighting about these things, to stop trying to defend ourselves, and to simply admit that we are ALL (in the words of Brennan Manning) "a bundle of paradoxes"?

What if admitting this freed us from judging people who act differently, believe differently, and look differently, and therefore freed us from bitterness, impatience, condescension, and self-righteousness? These are the sins that are most prevalent in my own heart, and they lead to rather ugly traits from which I long to be delivered. So, what if being free from these traits took our attention off of our attempts to justify ourselves, and opened our eyes to believe Paul's words to the 1st Century Roman Church (which was much like the 21st Century American Church):

"You may think you can condemn such people, but you are just as bad, and you have no excuse! When you say they are wicked and should be punished, you are condemning yourself, for you who judge others do these very same things. . . Don't you see how wonderfully kind, tolerant, and patient God is with you? Does this mean nothing to you? Can't you see that his kindness is intended to turn you from your sin? . . . for all have sinned, and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus." (Romans 2 & 3-- NLT and NIV)

This thrills me, because it reminds me that I am justified by grace through faith in Christ, and therefore no longer have to justify myself before others. Knowing that I am accepted by God doesn't lead to me want to sin more, or to cover up my inconsistencies, but to admit that I am frequently wrong, judgmental, unforgiving, and hard to get along with due to my stubbornness. And it leads me to shout for joy that I am covered by the One who loves me anyway. And when I admit this, the more God breaks in and replaces and rearranges the mix-matched furniture of my heart, revealing how consistently inconsistent and hateful I can be. And slowly but surely, my hypocrisy and self-righteousness begin to lose their grip on me, and God reminds me through His Word that he loves me not because I am right, but because I am HIS. And He promises to change me, to bring me more into conformity with His ways, and to forgive me when I fall short.

That's a truth that IS consistent-- for all eternity.

Everywhere

2009-02-02T20:38:00.001-05:00

Two of my favorite musicians whose music has filled my ears and inspired my heart for the better part of my life are as follows: Rich Mullins and John Denver.

I first heard the music of Rich Mullins in 1990, and began falling it love with it in 1993 when my then wife-to-be put several of his songs on a "mixed tape" for me (yes, Shelley and I are that old). I've loved his work ever since.

My first exposure to John Denver's music is harder to pin-point, as some of my earliest memories involve hearing and singing his songs around the house and in the car. In fact, my mother informed me that she listened to him while I was in her womb. I've loved his work ever since.

On September 19th, 1997, Rich Mullins was killed in a car crash. Less than a month later, on October 12th, John Denver was killed in a plane crash.

I still remember exactly where I was and what I was doing on each of those days when I heard the tragic news. I remember sitting in silence pondering the events and wondering why it had happened. Shelley remembers me weeping.

For a few days I couldn't bring myself to listen to their songs, because when I did, it hurt.

But within a week I was listening to them again, and they began to penetrate my senses more deeply as I started reflecting on how these men lived their lives and approached their craft.

John did not claim to be a Christian. Though he experienced extraordinary times of love and happiness, his two marriages turned out to be tumultous, even violent at times. On more than one occasion his depression led him to drive while intoxicated. Some would ask what benefit there could possibly be in listening to the music of such a man. However, I never once felt that his music led me away from God and into sin. To the contrary, actually.

These words of his continue to stir me:

I have to say it now: It's been a good life, all in all.
It's really fine to have the chance to hang around.
To lie there by the fire and watch the evening tire
While all my friends and my old lady sit and watch the sun go down.
Talk of poems and prayers and promises, and things that we believe in.
How sweet it is to love someone, how right it is to care;
How long it's been since yesterday, but what about tomorrow?
What about our dreams and all the memories we share?

Those are the words of a man who understands that the best moments in life are ordinary, and that relationships are vital but complicated. Like King David and the other Psalmists, he was a man who understood the power of poetry, the importance of prayer, and the joy of believing promises.

Rich was a Christian, and believed that his music was a gift from God given to him to be a venue for telling others about the Good News of Jesus. He loved and served in the Church, but he wasn't a particularly churchy type. He wasn't big on pious cliches, programs, and strategic plans. And in spite of his popularity and financial success, he chose to give away everything he owned except the necessities he needed to live in a single-wide trailer on a Native American reservation in Kansas.

These words of his continue to stir me:

Well I can still hear my dad cussin'; he's working late out in the barn.
The Spring plants and comin', and the tractors just won't run.
Mom, she's done the laundry; I can see it wavin' on the line.
Now they've stayed together through the bait and the string of those times.
Talk about your miracles, talk about your faith.
Well my dad, he could make things grow out of Indiana clay.
Mom could make a gourmet meal out of just cornbread and beans.
And they worked to give faith hands and feet and somehow gave it wings.
Now they've raised five children; one Winter they lost their son.
But the pain didn't live the crippled and the scars that made them strong.
Never picture perfect. Just a plain man and his wife
Who somehow knew the value of hard work, good love, and real life.

Those also are the words of a man who understands that the best things in life are ordinary, that spirituality is earthy, and that there is a joyous freedom in being real and honest. Like King Solomon, he understood that life is sometimes complicated and messy, and like the apostle Paul he understood that Christ's strength is made perfect in weakness.

What I love most about these fine musicians is this: They both refused to be labeled. Rich did not want to be known as a Contemporary Christian artist, and John Denver did not want to be known as a secular Country artist. Indeed, both of their respective industries were never comfortable giving them such labels because their music simply did not fit with what was typical for any of those categories, whether sacred or secular. The reason I love this is because it testifies to what is perhaps one of the least discussed truths of the Bible: Everything is sacred. There is no line of separation between what is spiritual and what is secular. In the words of the Psalmist, "The earth is the Lord's and everything in it." In the words of Donald Barnhouse, "All of life illustrates Bible doctrine." In the words of John Denver, "My heart so full of love for you sings praise for all I see". And in the words of Rich Mullins, "There is such a thing as glory, and there are hints of it everywhere."

I am not a pantheist or a universalist. I confess with the writers of the ancient creeds my belief in one Lord, one faith, one baptism, and one Holy Church, but oh may God deliver us from trying to confine his glory to sacred churchy things.

Leonard Bernstein once said "When I listen to Beethoven's 5th, I can't help but believe that there is something in the universe that won't let me down."

When I listen to Rich Mullins and John Denver, I can't help but believe that there is such a thing as glory, and that there are hints of it everywhere.

Everywhere.

Thinking about buts will lead to an affair

2009-02-01T19:29:00.016-05:00

I have often said that God's grace does not have a "but" (meaning that His love for us is unconditional and that Christians are free from the commandments of men and the fear of sliding down a "slippery slope" into sin). Many have a hard time with this teaching, and believe that my view of grace is misleading and insensitive to people with moral convictions. Some even respond "I agree, but we also need to __________", fill in the blank: Behave, try hard, etc.

So, I feel the need to clarify:

I WAS WRONG.

It turns out there are several verses in the Bible that DO put buts onto statements about God's grace. Here are a few:

1st John 2:1-2: "My dear children, I write this to you so that you will not sin. But if anybody does sin, we have one who speaks to the Father in our defense ---Jesus Christ, the Righteous One. He is the atoning sacrifice for our sins, and not only for ours but also for the sins of the while world."

Romans 5:20: "The law" (which includes the 10 commandments) "was added so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord."

Galatians 5:4-5: "You who are trying to be justified by law have been alienated from Christ; you have fallen away from grace. But by faith we eagerly await through the Spirit the righteousness for which we hope."

Colossians 2:20-23: "Since you died with Christ to the basic principles of this world, why, as though you still belonged to it, do you submit to its rules: "Do not handle! Do not taste! Do not touch!"? These are all destined to perish with use, because they are based on human commands and teachings. . . But they lack any value in restraining sensual indulgence."

Now you may say that I am pulling verses out of context, being selective, not teaching the "whole counsel of God," and subtly giving people the impression that because Jesus forgives us we can sin all we want and God won't care.

Before you make that leap, however, allow me to tell a brief story:

A few years ago a close friend of mine from high school called and told me that he was addicted to pornography. He viewed nudity frequently and thought about it constantly. He was troubled when he was reminded of Matthew 5 where Jesus taught that entertaining such thoughts is essentially the same thing as having an affair. So, realizing that his besetting sin was becoming a controlling force in his life, he asked me what he should do about it. I urged him to cancel his internet, get rid of his computer, and stay away from Walden Books. He followed through and took these actions, but it only worked for a little while. Pretty soon he found others venues to feed (and even justify) his addiction.

Let me be clear: There are times when actions such as the ones I urged him to take are necessary. In fact, I believe this is what Jesus was insinuating with his shocking statement "If your right eye causes you to sin, gouge it out and throw it away" (Matthew 5).

There's more to this issue, however. Much more. Back to the story.

A little while later my friend taught me something that I unfortunately neglected to teach him. He said these words:

"Dale, the funny thing is that while I was dating Stephanie, my desire to look at porn was virtually non-existent. I'm not saying I was never tempted, it's just that the temptation had no appeal to me when compared to the joy and satisfaction of simply hanging out with her, reading together, going for walks, listening to her talk about what she was learning in her study of the Bible, and being in a real relationship where I was able to love and be loved."

Years ago a pastor referred to this as "the expulsive power of a new affection." His point was that the way to overcome a love for something inappropriate is to replace it with a love that is much greater, more beautiful, and stunningly irresistible.

Ever meet someone who feels strongly about living by parameters that keep them separate from the culture, but is a rather stern person who gets uptight whenever they hear a sermon about grace that doesn't fit into their preferred genre of systematic theology? That's because they are so busy focusing on how NOT to have an affair with the things of this world that they have forgotten how TO have an affair with Jesus. Their obsession with being right and theologically precise protects them from everything but their own heart, which Jesus said is where our real problem lives and lurks (Matthew 5 again). And that's why I'm glad for a God of radical grace who gets infuriated not at me, but at the sin that attempts to steal my affection from Him (or, as the book of Exodus refers to Him, "A jealous God").

Brennan Manning put it this way:

"Christianity is not primarily a moral code but a grace-laden mystery; it is not essentially a philosophy of love but a love-affair; it is not keeping rules with clenched fists but receiving a gift with open hands."

Remember the but statements in the verses at the beginning of this post? I dare you to take some time to be still and simply think about those buts. But be warned: If you do, you'll get wrapped up in a passionate affair with a Lover who will never stop pursuing you. In fact, His attraction to you is fatal, for it will turn your stiffness into song, your bitterness into balm, and your complaining into compassion.

Rest for the Weary: What the Hobbits Understood

2009-01-26T21:36:00.002-05:00

Anyone who has been on a journey has a story to tell, and this is the story of my journey through depression.

In the Fall of 2007, I was 33 years old and entering into my tenth year of full-time pastoral ministry. I was doing what I had wanted to do since I was 17, and what I went to college and graduate school to be trained to do. The years of ministry had been a wonderful adventurous learning experience, and I was grateful for every day of it. My family life was enjoyable with my lovely wife and two daughters. Nevertheless,

I was shutting down.

I was beginning to experience what I can only describe as a dullness of spirit-- I was losing interest in the things I used to love doing, I was avoiding people I used to enjoy, and I had a constant sinking feeling within me-- the way it feels when you've been through something really sad and you are on the verge of tears and then you break down and cry, which is something I was doing regularly though no one else knew.

I never felt suicidal. Not even close. I didn't stay in bed with the shades pulled down until I looked like the uni-bomber. I didn't rebel against God, drop out of church, or start fighting with my wife.

In fact, quite the opposite.

I was in the best physical shape of my life-- I exercised daily, had a 31 inch waist, weighed an even 150 pounds, and celebrated my solid blood pressure and obsessively healthy eating habits. I worked hard at this.

I was getting up early every day, spending extensive amounts of time reading the Scriptures, praying, and pastoring a church where we celebrate communion weekly. I worked hard at this.

Shelley and I were getting along just fine. We regularly had intimate evenings, seldom argued, and I took Carly to school everyday, making her one of the only kids at her school whose dad did this on a consistent basis. I worked hard at this.

Our finances were healthy. No debt, and we lived in a home we spent a lot of time beautifying. I worked hard at this.

But I was shutting down. Feeling bad and getting worse.

What was happening to me?

The odd thing about it is that I didn't even consider the fact that it might be depression. I didn't know what it was. I just knew I was feeling a way that I couldn't explain, and so I didn't. I was perplexed though, because people who are working this hard at doing the right things-- godly and honorable things-- cannot and should not get depressed.

So I thought.

Then I happened upon these words by author and fellow pastor Steve Brown:

"The reason we're so bad is that we're trying so hard to be good. . . The only way you will ever get better is by believing that you don't have to. . . That's how I got better. . . I'm still not good, but I'm better than I was."

As if this were not enough to jolt me into reality, I happened to hear a classic rock song by the band America, which contained these words:

"Well I tried to make it Sunday, but I got so damn depressed. . .
Well I've tried to fake it, I don't mind sayin', I just can't make it."

That did it.

I decided to stop trying so hard.

I decided to stop faking it.

I decided to come to terms with the fact that I was depressed and needed to get help.

Guess what, my wife already knew.

And thus began the process of healing, and the amazing experience of being free to tell people what I was feeling.

I went to a pastor's gathering with several friends of mine who are in the ministry. I mentioned to the guys at lunch that I think I might be struggling with depression. To my surprise, they all smiled, and one of them looked around the table and asked, "Are any of us at this table not in counseling or an an anti-depressant?" No one raised their hand. Instead, they hugged me and my friend Chris said, "You're not alone in this. And it's okay to get help."

I started to wonder if perhaps "being a good witness for Christ" (the odd cliche' that continues to reverberate throughout the halls of Christendom), did not mean what I had been led to believe for so many years. Could it be that it's not about being strong, setting a stellar moral example, being a better person who tried hard and spent a lot of time talking about what to do and what not to do? Could it be that it's simply about being transparent, honest, and willing to say to struggling people the two words that Anne Lamott calls the most powerful sermon anyone could ever preach: "ME TOO"?

That sounds too easy. If only Jesus had said "My yoke is easy and my burden is light".

I decided to go to a trusted counselor who specializes in ministerial problems. He listened to me and he said, "Dale, you have to stop. Now. It's okay to take a break, to stop trying so hard to be successful. Ask your leader for a sabbatical, which is standard in most denominations. In fact, even if you weren't depressed you are past due for one."

I then went to my family doctor. He listened to me and looked into my eyes and said, "Dale, I have been there. It's depression. Whether you realize it or not our culture and our churches put an enormous amount of pressure upon us to be a better parent, more successful in your career, and better looking than the next person. We begin to subtly live by that philosophy and we wonder why our country has the highest rate of depression of any country in the world."

I then met with each of my leaders, and my two staff members are gems, told my story, and asked for a sabbatical. They didn't hesitate to grant it. Not for a second. They gave me 15 weeks off, starting on Memorial Day which was just a few short months away, the time needed to get get things in place to cover my duties while away. These leaders of mine never even questioned whether or not they would continue to pay me during my time of rest. This humbled me, and made me feel loved and accepted. It was almost as if they operated under some strange belief that the Bible describes grace as Jesus generously crediting rest into the accounts of weary sinners and promising to continue giving it even though the weary would not have to work to earn it, and that this strange belief was not simply a spiritual thing that was separate from other areas of life but should extend to our dealings with other people as well. Imagine if the Bible taught such a thing. That would have to fall into the category of good news, which in biblical Greek is the word Gospel.

But, I digress.

My leaders were amazing, overwhelmingly understanding and supportive. They displayed compassion that humbled me and made me ask myself if I would have been as gracious if I had been in their shoes. I still wonder that.

We announced it to the congregation, and with the exception of a few of the usual suspects, the folks of New Life Church were overwhelmingly supportive, understanding, and loving.

I stopped trying so hard. I stopped basing my identity on whether or not my church would ever be big, and I stopped doing many of the things I was doing that a pastor shouldn't be doing anyway: running the church, trying to be every single person's best friend, not resting until I visited everyone, returned every email, refuted every disgruntled person who threatened to leave if we didn't get a better youth ministry than the church their friends attended. Instead, I started to pray in fits and starts, spend more time on sermons, and enjoyed leisurely being with people in my church and community-- listening to them, going to Starbucks with them, and loving them without an agenda, without pressuring them to do more in the church, without asking why their attendance is not as consistent as I would like, without getting mad because not everyone agreed with me about everything. I started to enjoy people again, began to fall more deeply in love with my church, and started to feel twinges of missing them when I thought about being away from them for 15 weeks. I started taking a mild anti-depressant too. I kept exercising and eating healthy, but if I missed a few days of working out, or decided to splurge and have pizza and ice cream one night, I didn't feel guilty. I spent more time with Shelley and the girls, with my brother, sister, parents, and grandmother.

You know what? I started to get better. And to my surprise, the church even started to grow a little more. Even though I was no longer trying to be the Messiah of the church.

It is now one year later. I do not live in a constant state of ecstatic jubilation (which is abnormal anyway). I still get discouraged, worried, and exhausted from working too much. But I assure you this much is true: I'm better than I was.

Steve Brown was right, so was Sister Golden Hair, my pastor friends, my counselor, my doctor, my wife, my leaders, my staff, my siblings, and the message of Jesus:

Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest.

In Tolkien's The Fellowship of the Ring, he describes the powerful transforming influence that the land of Rivendell had on the hobbits when they went there to rest in the midst of a dark and trying time:

"For awhile the hobbits continued to talk and think of the past journey and of the perils that lay ahead; but such was the virtue of the land of Rivendell that soon all fear and anxiety was lifted from their minds. The future, good or ill, was not forgotten, but ceased to have any power over the present. Health and hope grew strong in them, and they were content with each good day as it came, taking pleasure in every meal, and in every word and song."

My family, friends, my wonderful church, and all whom God mysteriously uses in my life, are my Rivendell.

If you're reading this and are starting to think perhaps you have the seedlings of depression, don't follow my example. Instead, learn from the Hobbits. They were smarter than I'll ever be. Find your Rivendell-- a safe place to rest, tell your secrets, and take pleasure in every meal, word, and song. And stop trying so hard. Believe me, you'll get better.

Fill it Up Again

2009-01-26T11:01:00.002-05:00

Coffee. The most popular drink in the world.

Its intoxicating aroma, it pleasurable taste, its mood lifting effect.

Students, artists, businessmen, elderly widows, lovers-- people love it.

Perhaps the most significant appeal throughout the centuries is neither the pick-me-up it gives nor the palate-satisfying benefit it delivers, but rather the warm conversational community it somehow creates.

In the Fall of 1993 I was a Sophomore in college. Knoxville, Tennessee. My friends and I loved spending time in the section of town known as the Old City, an historic artsy district filled with shops, eateries, bookstores, and what quickly became our favorite hangout: The Old City Java House. At one time, long ago, I imagine that the building was a factory of some sort. The floors were creeky, uneven, distressed and darkly-stained wooden planks. The tables and chairs were also made of wood, and appeared to be hand-made by a skilled craftsman with an eye for beauty. The walls were weathered bricks, the ceiling was high, and the lighting was dim.

It was a magical place.

We would gather there at least once a week. Wearing frayed and faded jeans, flannel shirts, and Birkenstocks, we would each order up something different, and would sometimes share our drinks-- not because we wanted each others' germs, but because sometimes it was a struggle to scrape together more than $7.85 between all of us. We felt close, warm, and confident that we could speak freely with each other and still be safe and loved.

I loved that year.

This morning as I sit enjoying my morning cup of Whole Foods Pleasant Morning Buzz Blend-- spritzed with a tad of cream and a sprinkle of stevia-- I think of them.

Many are living in the Midwest, a few are overseas, several are still in the South, a couple are in the Rockies. Many have since married, several have children, and more than a few have gone through intensely painful divorces and have gradually picked up the pieces and begun to experience the healing of their emotional wounds.

I smile as I think not only of them, but of the space we shared and the atmosphere in which we lived; little rooms in large dormitories with red bricks and white Corinthians columns. The breathtaking beauty of the Fall in East Tennesee-- the mountains covered in leaves more yellow than Big Bird, more red than Kool-Aid, and more orange than the flames that flickered on the candles my roommate and I would light during the power-outage of that year's snowstorm.

I think of the long nights of laughing until our abs looked like Stallone's when he fought the Russian guy, listening to the Indigo Girls, Phish, and Edie Brickell, worrying about our exams, and talking about sex.

I think of the September morning when I first saw a girl with sandy blond hair, a white t-shirt, jeans, and a Jansport backpack walking up the main hill of campus to the 100-year-old building where she would have her next class. I was dazed. One month later we had our first date at Old City Java. Fifteen-and-a-half years later we are still in love, with two daughters, and every morning we drink coffee together and talk about what's new, what's good, and what we are worried about.

And we love this year, this time, this moment, this space we share.

Emily Saliers, one of my favorite songwriters, penned these words: "The new road is on old friend. Fill it up again."

Yes, we're all on an exciting new road, and it is paved with the fond memories of old friends. And while were traveling on it, let's drink down a cup of Java and then fill it up again.

Beyond Cliches and Clean-Cut Conclusions

2009-01-24T22:13:00.002-05:00

Ecclesiastes. It has long been one of my favorite books of the Bible. Part memoir, part poetry, part anecdote, saturated with an earthy and brutally honest tone throughout its twelve chapters. The perfect recipe for a fun read.

The writer is searching, experimenting with life, hoping to conclude with finely packaged answers about the meaning of life and why his beliefs make sense.

But he never gets there.

It doesn't resolve.

Many Christians are uncomfortable with this interpretation. They argue that the writer was frustrated and angry because he was "doing things man's way instead of God's way". They quickly point to the final two sentences of the book where they believe the writer finally sees the light and comes to a clear-cut godly conclusion: "Fear God and keep his commands. For God will bring every hidden deed into judgment, whether good or evil."

The problem is: This is not a conclusion.

Well, it is the writer's conclusion, but it is not the conclusion many people want to believe.

Here's why: The entire book of Ecclesiastes makes clear that the writer not only believed in God from the beginning of chapter one, but also worshiped him, studied him, and sought to do what pleased him. So why was he so discontent, frustrated and angry?

Because he was doing it out of fear.

Yes, fear of what God might do if he disobeyed any of his commands.

When he writes the final two sentences of the book he is NOT referring to the same type of fear of the Lord that other passages in the Bible commend, where fear is used as a sense of speechless awe as one gazes upon the beauty of God. And he is not referring to the same type of obedience Paul speaks of in Romans 1, the obedience that comes from faith in Christ.

What he is really saying in those final sentences is, "Be afraid of God. He burdens us with all kinds of requirements, and if you don't do everything he says he will judge you."

How do we know this? Because in chapter 7 the writer states: "Do not be overrighteous. Neither be overwise. . . On the other hand, do not be overwicked. Don't be a fool. . . Pay attention to these instructions, for anyone who fears God will follow them both."

Interesting. Fearing God will lead you to follow two paths: being overly righteous or overly wicked. Both are simply two different ways of avoiding God, and that is why Ecclesiastes is so relevant for us today.

Our fear of God is leading us to follow two paths: That of the devoutly religious and that of the defiantly rebellious.

On the one hand you have people who are devoutly religious. These people are typically in churches. They love to hear preaching about how God's grace frees us from the need to prove ourselves to God, but they quickly follow it up with "Yes, I agree, but we are also to be holy, and set a good example for others so that no one is led into sin by us doing things that might offend them". These people view everything as black or white, right or wrong, sacred or secular. They can't stand unanswered questions. They don't like it if something is unresolved. They love formulas, principles, and steps that promise godliness.

And they are avoiding God in doing so.

On the other hand, you have people who are defiantly rebellious, who indulge in sins they know will shock others. They are typically not in churches. They view everything as relative, believe that truth is whatever works for you, and that it doesn't matter how you live as long as you are happy.

And they are avoiding God in doing so.

The irony is, it's the people in the second group that are usually more receptive to the Gospel, who have an easier time grasping the concept of God's grace and their need for that grace.

It's those in the first group who try to make God into a neatly packaged belief system, a set of doctrines to be argued, a code of morality to be uniformly adhered to by all. They are often frustrated, vocally critical of their church, easily offended by ungodly people, obsessed with doing everything right, and generally intolerant of anything that is not explicitly Christian.

Think I'm making a leap? Read Luke 15, the story of the man with two sons. Then we'll talk.

The point is, Ecclesiastes raises more questions than answers, and that is precisely why it was written.

It was written to push us to look for the answers by continuing to read the succeeding books of the Bible in which we learn that Jesus perfectly kept all of God's commands, gave you the credit for it, and was nailed to a cross to bear the punishment you deserved for not keeping them, wiping your record clean. Forever.

It was written to make us say "That CAN'T be the end of the story. There HAS to be some good news in all of this", which would then lead us to greater joy when we come to 1st John 4:18: "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love."

It was written so that when we read the writer's words in chapter one: "What a heavy burden God has laid on men!", we will continue to search to see if God says otherwise. Then, when we read 1st John 5, "His commands are not burdensome", we will fall head-over-heals in love with the Lover of our souls.

"But I already believe that", you say. "I understand the Gospel".

I must confess: I say this all the time. But my daily life proves otherwise. For example:

Why do you say you believe salvation is a free gift that can't be earned, yet when a church participates in a Christmas ministry that gives gifts to the inner-city poor you complain that they are giving handouts to people who haven't worked for it?

Why do you say you believe God is "sovereign" and "in control", yet when a Democrat whose father might have had a Muslim background gets elected President you get upset, speak unkindly of him, question his profession of faith in Christ, and make snide jokes about how you'd like to move overseas?

Why do you say you believe Galatians 5:1 which states "Christ has truly set us free", but quickly add "But that means that we are only free to obey"? What happens if you don't obey? Would God love you less?

Why do you say you believe we should not forbid things the Scriptures do not forbid, but when a Christian friend gets together with other men in the church for a beer and a "secular" movie, you get concerned and say that it was not a wise use of God's time and money?

The answer is simply this: You don't understand the Gospel. Neither do I. You know the facts, that Jesus died for your sins and rose from the dead, but you haven't thought through the implications of those facts. Neither have I. There's a disconnect in our minds between spiritual matters and everyday life matters. That's why the Christian life is a process not of learning principles to live by, but of continually rediscovering the Gospel.

Discover the richness of Ecclesiastes. Explore it. Wrestle with it. Argue with it. Ponder it. Let it push you to believe what the writer himself believed: "There is a time to dance. . . He has made everything beautiful in it's time".

I hope that's music to your ears. If not, get closer to the Musician and listen some more.

Tap the Rockies

2009-01-20T08:50:00.000-05:00

There is a place where the air is clean, the sun is hardly ever veiled, and the exquisite snow-capped mountains seem to have been freshly chiseled just yesterday. A land where healthy eating and active living are not only possible to attain, but difficult to avoid. A culture where acceptance is the norm, and beauty is the pervasive theme.

Colorado.

If you've never been there you'll think I'm overstating its reality, possibly bordering on being a mystical tree-hugger. If you have been there you'll think I'm understating its reality, possibly bordering on being a mediocre describer of a place that comes close to Tolkien's Rivendell.

I was born there, but we moved before I was a month old.

I spent a Summer there during college. More than 15 years ago. I traveled many roads, hiked many trails, and shook many hands. I never dreamed I would backpack to a Peak more than
14, 000 feet above my hometown of Virginia Beach-- 14, 110 feet to be exact, and yet my feet were still on the ground. It was mid-July, but the snow came steadily down.

I spent a good bit of time there in recent years as well. In Boulder. Where my sister Jessa lives. The streets there are smooth and clean. The people are laid back, lean, and artistic. It's a wonderful place to be.

My wife, daughters and I are returning to Boulder in August. We'll wake each day to the view of the Flat Irons, the warmth of the sun, the sound of mountain bikes passing by, and the taste of Whole Foods dark roast coffee. Carly and I will hold hands and take walks in the morning. Annie and I will share hummus in the early afternoon, and Shelley and I will sip wine and kiss in the evening.

I will officiate my sister's wedding while we are there. I'll pronounce this girl-- who to me is still in many ways the same baby sister my mother brought home from the hospital when I was eight-- and Chad, her wonderful lover, husband and wife. I will also sing to her, at her request, the way I did when she was a toddler. A song about love.

John Denver once sang about an east coast man who "would rather be in Colorado, singing of love in Boulder Canyon". I'm content where I currently live, but in August of 2009 there is no other place on earth I would possibly rather be than in Colorado, singing of love in Boulder Canyon.

He Shines in All That's Fair, So Lighten Up

2009-01-19T07:37:00.013-05:00

Christians have had a long and conflicted relationship with culture. And there has always been a segment of Christians who believe that involvement in the culture is a dangerous business, for it dances close to the line of embracing things that might be displeasing to God. Hear me out: our world is flawed, and there are some dangerous elements to the culture, but is withdrawing from the culture and forming a separate sub-culture really the answer? On the other hand, is targeting the culture and trying to "save" it something the Bible advocates? If you answered yes to either one of these questions I want to pose something for you to consider: It is interesting that those who object to Santa Claus are often the very ones who live by his creed: you better watch out. . . you better be good. . . It's also interesting that those who speak against being "of the world" often base their lifestyle convictions not on Scripture but on the culture itself: dress up to go to church. . . sing mostly traditional hymns without drums. . . believe that the earth is very young. . . don't support public schools (Yes, those are merely preferences of a specific segment of the culture. They are not biblical commands. The same could be said of drinking in moderation, reading novels that may have an occasional explitive, and watching movies that don't involve Bible characters, people being left behind, and cartoon vegetables who botch the point of the story of Jonah).

Lest you think I am attacking those convictions or the people who hold them, let me clearly state: there is nothing wrong with holding and practicing such convictions. In fact, everyone is free to do so, as long as they are acknowledged as personal preferences and not biblical requirements.

My point is this: When we expect others to live by our preferences, and act as if they will be more godly if they do, we have crossed the line into absurdity by attempting to take the place of God.

C.S. Lewis put it this way:

"One of the marks of a certain type of bad man is that he cannot give up a thing himself without wanting everyone else to give it up. That is not the Christian way. An individual Christian may see fit to give up all sorts of things for special reasons-- marriage, or meat, or beer, or the cinema; but the moment he starts saying the things are bad in themselves, or looking down his nose at other people who do use them, he has taken the wrong turning."

Christians throughout the ages have believed that God makes himself known in two ways: Generally (through nature and all that exists, which reveals to us the beautiful artwork of God according to Psalm 19:1-6) and Specifically (through the Bible, which reveals to us the truth of God's redeeming love in Jesus Christ according to Psalm 19:7-14). Here's what intrigues me: We go to great lengths to argue that the entire Bible, God's specific revelation, is "inerrant" (which I strongly believe with every fiber of my being). I'm curious though, have you ever heard anyone argue that God's general revelation is inerrant? The fact is, if God chose to reveal himself this way it HAS TO BE inerrant. It is, however, harder to interpret, and therein lies the tragedy: Because the light of nature (which includes many aspects of the culture itself) is often harder to understand and interpret than the Bible, we would rather not take the time to try and interpret it. In other words, we don't want to think, so we simply erect barriers that forbid entrance into anything that seems popular in modern culture, for fear that those things might contain sinful elements. We would rather discourage people from watching Friends and Seinfeld because they are "worldy" shows that sometimes deal with immoral subjects, rather than celebrate and learn from the amazing sense of community those shows portray-- a type of community which Christians long to have but seldom find in the very place where it is supposed to be found: the church. We would rather discourage people from going trick-or-treating on Halloween rather than remove our own religious costumes that conceal our sin to others the other 364 days of the year.

Why do we spend so much time being uptight and offended at trivial matters such as what kind of music is godly, how many winter coats a person should have (something I recently heard someone debating), and whether or not Christians should read Harry Potter? The old hymn states, "This is my Father's World, He shines in all that's fair. In the rustling grass I hear Him pass, He speaks to me everywhere".

He's shining on you, my friend, so lighten up.

I Will Ease Your Mind

2009-01-15T09:22:00.006-05:00

In June of 2004 I spent 5 days in downtown Pittsburgh at our yearly denominational meeting (known as General Assembly), which I always enjoy. On the second morning of the trip I was walking from my hotel to the Convention Center where that day's meetings were soon to begin. As I crossed a busy street bustling with taxi cabs and cell phone occupied business people dressed in ways that didn't make sense in the humid sizzle of a Pittsburgh Summer, I saw something in front of the famous Melon Arena that widened my sweat-stinging eyes: a flashing sign which read "Simon and Garfunkel in concert tonight".

Could this be happening? One of my all-time favorite music duos actually giving a concert across the street from my hotel?

In 2004? The same guys who reached their height of fame and parted ways before I was even born?

I walked up to the ticket booth of the Melon Arena, bought one of the few remaining tickets, and returned that night feeling only a slight twinge of guilt that I was missing the evening worship service back at the Convention Center. The concert began at 8 p.m. Words will never do justice in describing what took place in the arena that night. It was two and a half hours of sheer beauty, celebration, and euphoria. The high point of the evening came with the dramatic performance of Bridge Over Troubled Water, as I and 20,000 others were powerless at holding back the tears.

When I arrived back at the hotel I asked a pastor friend of mine how the worship service went. He rolled his eyes and responded, "The sermon message was essentially 'Sin is bad, so don't do it. If you keep doing it, God will find out and you'll be sorry.'" I responded, "I see. How was the music?" He answered, "We sang dirges with archaic vocabulary and minimal instrumentation." He was clearly troubled and uneasy about the evening. I took the elevator up to my room, plopped on the bed and thought to myself, "I listened to two old Jewish guys passionately sing lines such as 'Jesus loves you more than you will know', and 'When tears are in your eyes I will dry them all... Like a bridge over troubled water, I will ease your mind, I will lay me down'. Now you may say that's unfair, and that communicating God's love is not what Paul and Art had in mind when they wrote these songs. And you're probably right. But I tell you this: it eased my mind. It reminded me that though sin IS bad and we SHOULD be sorry for it, God provided a better remedy than simply telling us not to do it. He sent a substitute, One who actually did say "I will lay down my life for you". I will lay me down. I love you more than will know. Believing this is not only the wheel that turns us from our sin, but the bridge that continues to hold us when we do sin, promising to bring us past the troubled, murky water in our hearts.

Yes, seeing Paul Simon and Art Garfunkel eased my mind. Perhaps this is the ease of mind that another Jewish writer (also named Paul), who became a Christian in mid-life, was referring to when he wrote to a church in Philippi, "And the peace of God which passes all understanding will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus."

Does Grace Have a Big But?

2009-01-13T20:21:00.009-05:00

Ever heard someone express concern about something being a "slippery slope"? I have. And unfortunately it was always expressed in response to someone doing things that the Bible allows, and even encourages. Here are a few examples I have heard over the years: We don't want women reading Scripture in a worship service (which the Bible allows) because that might lead to men not taking initiative as leaders. . . We shouldn't allow people to wear jeans to church (which the Bible allows) because that might lead to people dressing provocatively. . . We shouldn't put our kids in public schools (which the Bible allows) because they might have a teacher who teaches a different view of creation. . . We shouldn't use wine for communion (which the Bible commands) because it might offend people who are teetotalers. . . Please understand, I'm all for unity in the church (and I should add that the above statements are not matters of concern in the church where I currently serve), and I believe in being "careful to do what is right in the eyes of everybody", as the Bible says. The problem is that that's really not what's behind the above "slippery slope" concerns. What really lies behind those statements is disbelief. Yes, disbelief that Jesus came to set us free from the commandments of men. It's as if people are afraid that if individuals really believe that God loves them unconditionally (which the Bible calls "grace") they might start living a life of wild abandon, in addition to possibly voting Democrat and listening to "secular" rock music. People who have this fear want all statements about God's grace to be qualified-- in other words, we must preach a "grace, but" theology. A pastor friend of mine was recently accused by his leadership of preaching "cheap grace" when he told his congregation that "grace means God will never be angry with you again." (It's interesting that those who object to such a statement are often very angry themselves). They wanted him to add something like "But, you need to keep trying to be godly, being careful not to sin. Otherwise God might get angry." The fact is, grace is neither cheap nor costly. It's free. Otherwise it wouldn't be grace. In other words, grace doesn't have a big but, a little but, a nice but, or a firm but. Grace is but-less. Otherwise it would not be grace. If you are admiring the beauty of God from atop the glorious mountain of His grace, you won't be concerned about the slope. You'll believe Psalm 121 which states, "He will not let your foot slip," and you will be free. Free to live, free to love, free to laugh, cry, doubt, repent, forgive and be forgiven. In Luke chapter 7 Jesus tells a remorseful prostitute who comes to Him in tears that she is forgiven. And the story ends. No buts. No ifs. Just 'Your sins are forgiven. . . Go in peace." Of course the other people in the room (some of whom were religious leaders) were probably nervous that she might go and sleep around some more. That she was getting off too easy. That Jesus should have been more harsh. But Jesus knew better. That's grace.

I Hope You Dance

2009-01-11T13:07:00.008-05:00

Soon to be six years old, Carly is the older of our two daughters. Like many six-year-old kids, she has much to learn about how to behave. Specifically, she interrupts me when I'm talking, she often doesn't answer me when I ask her what she learned at school, and she gets lots of food and grape juice on her clothes when she eats, thus my wife has become a stock-owner of Spray and Wash. But here's the thing: She loves to dance. Never is she more graceful, peaceful, and utterly joyful than when she dances. At her most recent ballet recital, she and her class danced to Barbara Streisand's 'Memories'. . . 'Daylight, I must wait for the sunrise, I must think of a new life. . .'. It hit me: I'm determined to get her to behave by demanding that she answer me properly, warning her about how inconvenient it is when she gets a stain on her clothes, and thinking I can improve her behavior by promising ice cream or a movie. The problem is, the more rules I try to enforce, the more mechanical and predictable our relationship becomes. When she dances, however, she dances neither in fear of making a mistake nor in hope of getting a reward. She simply dances, savoring each moment as a portrait of beauty and delight. I ask you, when it comes to living what Jesus called 'an abundant life', who is closer to understanding the love and grace of God: the one who behaves, tries hard to always answer correctly, and never stains their clothes, or the one who dances freely and goes wherever the music takes her just grateful for the joy of knowing that even if she slips and dances rather poorly, a roomful of loving parents will applaud, and her father will embrace her and bring her home when it's over? I think you know the answer, and I hope you dance.

Remembrance

2009-01-08T21:05:00.008-05:00

Driving home this afternoon, I happened to hear the song "Don't Know What You've Got 'til it's Gone" by the 1980's hair band Cinderella. I smiled, remembering when I first heard that song: in the Fall of 9th Grade, and I loved that year. Now believe me, I'm not one of those guys who still wishes he was in high school. There is very little of it I would want to re-live, and some of it was close to hell. My 9th grade year, however, is a year I remember with great fondness because it gave me something that endures long after high school: Friendship. Duane and Chris were the guys I hung with that year. We met in the school band, where we all three played trumpet. We played hard that year-- in the classroom, on the football field, in parades, and in a competition in Myrtle Beach-- a week-long trip which has a story all its own. We also laughed hard that year. Oh my, did we laugh hard. When my grandfather died that Spring, I cried hard, and Duane and Chris consoled me, in the only way that 9th grade boys know how: they hugged me and made fun of people we knew until I cried with hilarity. We spent lots of time at each others' houses, sleeping over, eating junk food, prank calling our teachers (before caller ID came along and ruined such a fine art at which we were very skilled), watching movies, playing Nintendo, and talking deep into the night. We even occasionally attended church together, perhaps because their parents made it part of the deal when someone spent the night, or perhaps because we needed to assuage our consciences after a long night of trying to out-cuss each other-- though I'm not so sure that's a sin anyway. In any case, I think the reality is simply that we enjoyed each others' company. I've seen these two guys very little since graduation in 1992, but I've thought of them often. Here's to you, Duane and Chris. Thanks for the memories.

To the Beat of a Different Drum

2009-01-05T09:26:00.008-05:00

With the inauguration around the corner, I hear lots of conversations about Obama. And I can't help but bristle when I hear the way many Christians talk about their new President. I recently heard a member of a nearby church refer to Obama as 'a Muslim terrorist.' I've heard other Christians call him such names as socialist, baby killer, and "homo-lover." I'm not a politician, and I've only been a pastor for 10 years. However, as I have studied the Scriptures, it seems clear to me that such demonizing is contrary to what lies at the heart of the Christian faith: Love. It also seems to me that the Christian approach to politics is neither Red nor Blue. Why must the church be identified with any particular political party? More specifically, why has the evangelical church traditionally been identified with the Republican Party, which claims to be "pro-life" toward those in the womb, yet from birth forward advocates what one writer calls a "Social Darwinism": A survival of the fittest, i.e. poor people don't work hard enough, bad people should be executed, and countries suspected of having WMDs should be preemptively bombed even if it means killing a few innocent civilians. Conservatives will say this view is ignorant and immature, and yet many in their Party speak of the war in Iraq with a "They started it" tone, and immigration with an "I was here first" tone. Liberals will say they agree that love and peace is the answer, and yet many in their Party speak of Bush in a manner that is quite the opposite of such virtues. It's time for an end to partisanship in the church, and an acceptance of the fact that Christians should sometimes vote Democrat, sometimes Republican, and sometimes for third party candidates. Furthermore, the name-calling has to stop, towards both Bush and Obama, and friendships should not be affected by how one votes. Though I voted for Obama in the Pennsylvania primaries, I voted for a third party candidate in the general election. But I support Obama because he is my President. If life, peace, and freedom are so important for us Christians, then perhaps it's time that WE seek to implement these values in our communities rather than expect politicians to do it for us.

A New Blog in a New Year

2009-01-01T15:43:00.004-05:00

I've started the new year with the worst headache I've had in ages. I didn't get smashed last night, I think it's just the weather. In any case, here's to a new year in which I will periodically post various essays and other such musings I am working on. Peace.