Resolutions, hopes, musings, prayers? I really don’t know what these are. But there are ten of them for the new year, offered in no particular order:
1. Exercise – I’m bummed that I’m starting the new year with a couple of injuries that are making my exercise routine more challenging. I remember reading the biography of an Italian climber once who, when interviewed at the age of 87 said, “I still try to do something challenging for my body every day.” That’s my mantra at the beginning of 2010 as well: challenge the body daily somehow.
2. Socialize – The deadline for my next book is May 1st, and I’m aware of my tendency to sort of jump into the ocean of ideas and hide in the safety of my own head rather than be involved in relationships. I’m intent on doing a better job of developing and maintaining relationships with friends, neighbors, and co-workers, during writing season.
3. Encouragement – I was privileged in 2009 to re-connect with some friends from architecture school who were, and still are, gifted encouragers. They reminded my how important this gift is, and I’m intent on developing some little habits in order to more be encouraging.
4. Service – Our church is doing this Rule of Life thing (if you’ve read my book, you know about it), and this year one of our focal points will be service. This is a big and challenging deal for me. When I was in Austria recently, a man ten years older than me got up at 3:30 in the morning to drive someone to airport and then spent the day teaching ski instructors on the slopes while I… slept in, read, did e-mails, took a nap, and tried to write. I was convicted by his action, and the actions of many others, that serving has increasingly become a blind spot in my world, and that if I’d listen more closely to the Holy Spirit, I’d do the dishes more often.
5. Generosity – Stewarding the wealth of health, family, home, and material abundance is a tremendous privilege and responsibility. I’m mindful that I could share more freely and am praying for Jesus to show me the way.
6. Simplicity – I’m tossing stuff I haven’t used, and have it as a goal this year to go through my files (after me) which have become clogged with needles papers, articles, ideas… there will be a fire in the mountains this spring.
7. Mission – As our church moves towards the establishment of new services, campuses, and satellites, it’s on my heart that we also begin to find a way to focus, with greater intentionality, on our own backyard – serving in the North Seattle area creatively and building platforms for relationships there.
8. Teaching – I’ve a men’s retreat this spring and two family conferences this summer. I’m praying that God will use me in these venues, and that I’ll ‘devote myself to these things’ as Paul exhorted Timothy to do. I fear becoming stagnant, redundant, meaningless, as I grow older, and am praying for the capacity to still be used by God, knowing that ‘being used’ is simply the byproduct of my own relationship with Jesus.
9. Beauty – Whether it’s the beauty of creation, poetry, good coffee, architecture, photography, intimacy or…anything else, I pray that I’ll both appreciate beauty and contribute to the beauty of my little part of the world, for it is in beauty and suffering, as Simone Weill wrote, that we see God most clearly. On a practical level, I think this means we need to address the front yard.
10. Contentment – The pursuit of “more” is bothersome to me these days, and I nearly didn’t write this entry because of the risk that it implies a sense of ambition and drivenness that, in reality, simply isn’t in me. Instead, I’m a fan of Ecclesiastes 5:18 – it might even be my ‘verse of the year’, if I were ambitious enough to have one:
Even so, I have noticed one thing, at least, that it is good to eat, drink, and enjoy work under the sun during the short life God has given us, and to accept your lot in life. And it is a good thing to receive wealth from God and the good health to enjoy it. To enjoy your work and accept your lot in life – this is indeed a gift from God.
All right then – welcome to 2010
Years ago a read a little book called, “The Torch of the Testimony”, and after traveling as a tourist during this past trip in Europe, I’m committed to re-reading it in 2010. It’s a church history book filled with biases and lacking footnotes and documentation, so from a scholarly perspective, the material would be a waste of time.
The thesis of the book, however, is both true and sorely needed in our day. Kennedy asserts that, throughout the history of the church, there have always been those who have stood outside the institutional systems of Christianity, eschewing the Protestant/Catholic wars that ravaged Europe (and this blog recently, as well), opting instead for more primitive expressions of the faith; organic expressions of Christ’s life whose sole agenda was to be the presence of the resurrected Jesus in this world. The Waldenses, John Huss, and the radical reformers are among the groups mentioned.
As Kennedy says so well, “The history of the working of the Spirit of God is not the history of any organization, and what usually goes by the name ‘Church History’ is only too often a sorry tale of bigoted quarrels and selfish intrigue. Yet the history of the two, the spiritual movement, and the earthly institution, are sometimes so closely intermingled that it is impossible to give an account of one without referring to the other.”
Normally, my annual time in Europe is primarily devoted to teaching (and a day or two of skiing). But this past trip included vacation time with the family. Touring castles and cathedrals allowed me to see first hand the effects of these bigoted ecclesiastical quarrels and some of the misery that inflicted. When faith is coupled with the pursuit of political power, military might, and the expansion of one’s ‘interests’, be they Protestant or Catholic, history tells us that what ensues will invariably be violent, ugly, and contentious, all in the name of Christ.
But always, in the midst of the institutional Christian insanity, there have been little bastions of greater light. Of course, history also tells us that these bastions of light, as they grew, faced their own trials and challenges. Success, we come to see, is dangerous. Still, the groups of which I’m thinking were convinced that if they were going to be a testimony of Christ, they’d need to release their institutional ambitions, leaving their preservation and growth to God.
As Dietrich Bonhoeffer sat in prison while the war against Germany raged, he began envisioning what would be necessary for Christianity to survive in post-war Germany. In letters written from prison, he envisioned churches that were cut free from state, and even pondered the end of denominationalism, believing that autonomy and locality of churches loosely tied together through fellowship rather than formal ties, would ultimately create a healthier testimony of Christ than institutional interests could ever hope to achieve.
As the church I lead grows larger, Bonhoeffer’s observations and contemplations are helpful. We’re in an age and culture where the franchise is a very real possibility for growing churches. But before spreading our non-denominational logo, we’d be wise to, at the very least, pause and listen to the words of Bonhoeffer:
“The clergy should live solely on the free-will offerings of their congregations, or possibly engage in some secular calling. She must take her part in the social life of the world, not lording it over men, but helping and serving them. She must tell men, whatever their calling, what it means to live in Christ, to exist for others. And in particular, our own church will have to take a strong line with the blasphemies of hubris, power worship, envy and humbug, for these are the roots of evil. She will have to speak of moderation, purity, confidence, loyalty, steadfastness, patience, discipline, humility, contentment, and modesty.”
Nothing could be truer… or more timely, at the start of a new decade.
Merry Christmas from Austria… I’ll be on holiday until New Year’s Eve. In the meantime, here’s a gift I’ve shared with my family as a way of saying: God has blessed me beyond all I could ask, hope, imagine.
May you know Christ’s life as your hope, peace, and joy throughout the new year.
See you in 2010
After falling last Thursday on the ski slope in Austria, I could barely move. My fall was a mere 150 meters of skiing above the gondola, which I needed to enter in order to get down the mountain, for only the top half is presently up and running. It was getting dark, and every turn made my insides feel as if they were being pulled apart, so much so that I briefly considered sitting on the snow and waiting for help to come.
As the nature of my injury became clear, I did what I’m prone to with everything: research. I visited countless internet sites to discern the finer points of distinction between three possible injuries. What was troubling me was that fact that only one of these three was ‘self healing’. I agonized over this, because I’m one of those people who like to know what’s going on, whether it’s good or bad. Unfortunately, though, my twenty minutes of internet medical training left me ill equipped for an accurate self-diagnosis.
By Monday afternoon, I’d decided that I needed to speak with someone who had more knowledge about these injuries than me. Fortunately, there’s a ‘ski injury specialist’ whose office is within walking distance of the school. He treats members of the Austrian national ski team, so I suspected he might have seen an injury or two in his time. What’s more, he speaks English. That settled it. I made an appointment for Tuesday morning, and was in the examining room by 9AM. (that the whole thing cost me less, by paying straight cash, than it would have cost me out of pocket with my current insurance is another story… for another time).
He looked, poked, assessed range of motion. I explained the injury. “It is not the serious kind” he said. “It will heal on it’s on.” Relief, immediately becomes a question: “How long until it heals?”
“You will know” he says.
“How?” I ask.
“It will stop hurting.”
“But right now I can’t even do a sit-up” I say.
“Your body is telling you to not do sit-ups then. The pain is there for a reason.” And then he said this: “All healing requires pain.”
I walked home, both gladdened by the diagnosis, and pondering that last statement: “all healing requires pain.” I thought of the painful revelations I’ve tried to avoid facing in my life, revelations about hurt, loss, rejection. Try though I have (and still do, at times) to silence the pain, it rises to the surface, revealing my own need for grace and transformation. But facing the pain, and letting the pain do it’s healing work, is as much a necessity for the soul as the body.
Jesus faced the pain of loss in the garden, and it worked towards both his perfection and our healing.
Helmut Theilicke, the German theologian (I won’t tell you which denomination 🙂 said, “the problem with the church in the West is an inadequate view of suffering.” I might say that there are many other problems as well; inadequate Christology, consumerism, idolatry of wealth and materialism. But Helmut’s right in saying that we have inadequate view of suffering, because we’re trained from the earliest age to build a pain free life.
We learn that every time we’re told that there’s a new drug available for your malady. We learn that when we self medicate away the pain of our isolation. We learn that when we make choices based on self-preservation rather than integrity.
The gift of pain is the shaking and alterations it brings to our lives, precisely so that we might be healed from whatever it is that is robbing us from wholeness. I feel better today, but still can’t do a sit up, so I’m forcing myself to stay of the slopes. Pain is the teacher and the lesson is simple: relax and let go of your demands to master the hill. You’ve a different plan now… but it will still be good.
In case you weren’t at Bethany Community Church yesterday (and even if you were), I thought you’d enjoy this little production, created by roaming around Munich in search of learning more about Sophie Scholl and the White Rose.
Many people ask about the fruit of their work. I can offer two stories, and with each, a word of hope from the Scriptures. First, when the news of the White Rose reached America, the allies printed the leaflets by the tens of thousands and air-dropped them over the German cities, doing what, in their wildest expectations, none of the white rose would have imagined while they were living. Jesus said it this way: “Except a grain of wheat fall into the ground and die, it remains by itself, alone. But if it dies, it bears much fruit.” These lives bore fruit, precisely because they were willing to die. And of course, the thing of it is this: Jesus is asking all of us to lay down our lives, and ways both large and small, for His purposes. We must learn to make His will our only agenda, which means we must also learn to listen for His voice and be quick to follow Him. In this way, we will find ourselves swept into the destiny God has for us.
The second principle is related to the first. I will surely never go down the road of laying down my life unless there’s something far more important than ‘my life’ in my worldview. Of course, those who follow Jesus know that, whatever their life might entail during these days on earth, their life on earth isn’t the end of it all. They have more. One women wrote this, regarding the tremendous sacrifice of the White Rose students: ‘You can live without owning anything. But you can’t live without having something ahead of you, ahead of you in the sense of something inside you. You can’t live without hope.‘
Of course, there is nothing greater in which we can invest our lives than imparting the beauty of Christ’s reign into the very real world of this day, blessing people in the name of Christ, and inviting people to both be reconciled to God and join in the work of manifesting His kingdom. Hans and Sophie were exemplary and inspiring to me, not only because of their courage, but because their courage came wrapped in lives well lived. Clearly enjoying good food, the mountains, poetry, and good conversation, they nonetheless held the courage of their convictions in such a way that they were willing to lay everything on the line for the sake of their call. It cost them their lives, but their testimony lives on.
“Therefore, since we have so great a cloud of witnesses surrounding us, let us…lay aside our weights of sin, fix our eyes on Jesus, and run our race.” May we too be joy filled people who love God, love others, and stand firm!!
Cheers… from Austria
Last night, the students who’d come together twelve weeks ago to begin their Bible School experience, brought it to completion with a graduation supper, and a closing service, honoring both the students and the staff who, together, were the body of Christ in this beautiful part of the world for the past months. I do the last week of teaching because my lectures are on I Corinthians, which is about what it means to be a church, an appropriate topic for just before students leave.
The week was refreshing both because of the students hunger for the word, and because of the conspicuous absence of the fighting between the emergent church and neo-Calvinists. On Sunday the 20th, I’ll share a video about the history of the Protestant church in this village, along with God’s movement of ecumenism between Protestants and Catholics. I must say, the absence of rancor between Catholics and Protestants over here is humbling. Both groups recognize that, within their organizational ranks there are both believers and unbelievers, realizing that institutional loyalty, or loyalty to doctrines beyond the sufficiency and centrality of Christ, are entirely secondary. I wonder if we have anything to learn from this?
These students will scatter, back into churches of many flavors, in many parts of the world. They won’t bring rancor over issues of sovereignty and total depravity. They won’t consider themselves emergent. They just love Jesus, and are trying to love others too. This, of course, is the point isn’t it?
Anyway, I love my job – shepherding a tremendous flock in Seattle, and declaring Christ to the next generation as I travel and teach several weeks a year. I thank the Lord for both worlds, as I’m increasingly convinced that each enhances the other in profound ways.
Cheers! And students… congrats. You blessed me more than you can know this past week.
Our church staff was looking at this article yesterday, which articulates some data from the Barna research people about how Christians are perceived by those who are not. I wonder if the real Jesus, not the one conservatives and liberals have fabricated, would be perceived as boring (remember when he walked on water, remember the accusation that he went to the wrong parties, the ones with unreligious people), or judgmental (remember the women caught in adultery who, in accordance with Levitical law should have been stoned, and he found a way to forgive her?), or insensitive to others? The people who hated him the most were the religious experts – seminary trained, with big Bibles that they used to prove to themselves that Jesus was a heretic worthy of death (John 5:39, Acts 13:27). They’re the only people Jesus angered, at least until those people nearly incited a riot in their efforts to get him killed. Then Rome stepped and helped put him to death.
The normal run of the mill people though? They seemed drawn to the man, which is baffling because they’re not generally drawn to his body on earth today, the church. Why is this?
Of course, this could be a huge conversation, because there are many reasons. But let’s tackle just one: We’ve become, frankly, rather utilitarian in our approach to relating to God, each other, and the world. What do I mean? I mean that we may well have the right ‘WORDS’ about the sin nature of humankind, and our need for reconciliation with God, which has been miraculously provided through the incarnation and death of Jesus (I John 2:1,2). All of this is good and true, but it’s sort of like a house without any beauty (see the attached movie). The ‘gospel’ is good news, not only because it gets us justified… it’s good news because God is reconciling people to Himself and each other, breaking down dividing walls. If we start breaking down walls too, by reaching across doctrinal divides, not to shoot our brothers but to share and learn from each other, we’ll add the beauty to the message. The gospel is good news because the entire earth is going to be transformed (Romans 8, Ephesians 1:10,11), and so we can embody a little glimpse of this earth renewal by caring for our environment because God cares for His creation and we’re in His family. The gospel is good news because, according to Luke 4, people are healed, debts are forgiven, captives are set free. Unless you want to spiritualize all of that, and turn those things into a tract about getting to heaven, then maybe we ought to be working to set people free who are caught in human trafficking, and feeding the hungry, digging wells and opening clinics. This stuff is beautiful.
Instead, we’re boycotting Old Navy, not because of unjust labor practices, but because they don’t say “Merry Christmas” in their ads. This is more than embarassing, it’s angering. It’s just another exercise in missing the point, and our house continues, to look to the world, like a prison camp filled with boring haters, rather than a welcoming home, the place where the beauty is so inviting we can’t help ourselves… we’re drawn. This is what the church is supposed to be, and can be. But only if we start behaving like Jesus. Until then, we’ll continue to be like the people Jesus struggled with the most: religious prigs.
With a world conference beginning to address the issue of climate change, I found two interesting reads this morning in the New York Times. The first is about the conference itself, particularly the cries from the far right about the possibilities of dire economic consequences if we actually take steps to address the issue. Really? I was in Germany last week, which is cloudy like Seattle, and farther north, and yet while traveling by train I passed dozens of solar farms, acres of solar panels quietly creating energy without carbon emissions. At least 30% of the houses seem to have some form of supplemental solar heating. Cars get 40 miles to the gallon and upward. Farther north, it’s wind that’s energizing the Netherlands. Yes, it surely appears that Europe is in the midst of a disaster due to their commitment to be green. In fact, American companies that are working in solar are considering relocating, not because of labor costs, but because the market for their products is Europe and Asia.
The reality is that we’re in the midst of an economic change in the same fashion that we moved to cars from trains at the beginning of the 20th century. However, that wasn’t exactly a pure free market was it: roads, an absolute necessity for cars, came from – tax dollars. The government intervened and provided infrastructure (surely one of it’s responsibilities). Why we are afraid of such intervention today?
And before either the left or the right warm up to any of the proposed health care plans, we’d be wise to consider this material, and much more like it that calls us to address prevention. If we go down “prevention” road, however, we’ll need to start thinking about so many things: exercise habits, sleep habits, anti-biotics in food, chemicals in everything. Far easier, I suppose, to simply try (if you’re on the left) to push everyone into a bigger system that is much the same as what we have now, or (if you’re on the right) let the market take care things.
I’d advocate that we shift our paradigm towards prevention and building healthy lifestyles through education and incentives. But, like climate change, such an enormous paradigm shift would be unthinkable because the cost to drug companies, the insurance industry, and some medical establishments would be too high. When the day is done, though we all acknowledge change is needed, I’m wondering if we have the will to make the hard choices on any either important issue, health care, or the environment?
In a few minutes I’ll go to class and complete the studies in Genesis with students here, and then board the train for Augsburg, where I’ll spend the evening with friends before filming tomorrow at Dachau and sites in Munich. Tomorrow night it’s on to Salzburg for supper with a friend and then Schladming, where I’ll be teaching I Corinthians next week.
The week here has been good with many students from Canada, a few from America, and the rest from places in Europe, Africa, and one student from Egypt. I wish you could be with me for all these conversations, which range from the persecution of Christians in Egypt by Muslims, to the struggles of pastoring in rural Kenya, where drought and water problems have stretched the capacities of all the people, to the differences in health care systems and taxation between Germany and America. I spoke with a German student who shared her grandfather’s recollections of fighting in WWII, and a story of how God spared his life during a bombing, reminding me that their were people of faith on both sides. Last night I had supper with a friend and the whole time I was wishing I’d brought the video recorder with me. We spoke of Hitler’s addiction to Theosophy, why Germany was vulnerable, and the profound effect Bonhoeffer had on Germany after his death. We also spoke of the American addiction to success and the dangers of that, as he sees it encroaching on the church in Germany.
This travel, and these kinds of discussions are priceless to me for many reasons. First, they remind of the gospel’s malleability. It looks different in Germany, than Kenya, than Amsterdam, than Egypt, than France, than America, and that’s OK. Second, I’m reminded of the danger we all face, of imposing our style of Christianity, with all our strengths and weaknesses, on other cultures. It’s important to share the central themes: devotion to Christ, the nature of his work, our calling to allow His life to be born in us and expressed through us – and then let these themes take shape in various cultures.
I worry, though, that our American church is becoming fragmented along some very unhealthy lines, agreeing with some commentors on previous posts that some core doctrines are at risk of compromise by the emergent church. At the same time, I’m concerned that the more conservative branches of our faith true are holding on the centrality of Christ and adding a bit of Americana to that, as if being pro-free market, and pro-war is somehow inherently Christian. This is, in my opinion, not only nonsense…. it’s dangerous.
Tomorrow I’ll shoot some footage from Dachau, and in Munich, where a resistance movement to Hitler challenged Germany’s apathy. I think there are lessons to be learned there… or at least some musings. I won’t post, probably, until Sunday, because I’ll be travelling.
Cheers… In Christ