The Church In Exile: Following Jesus In A Strange Land

I went to a concert a few weeks ago where Blowing In the Wind, the classic protest song, was the first song out of the gate. The crowd, filled with longing for any bit of hope they could find, erupted into sustained applause.

All I could think about was how Blowing in the Wind is a pretty good description of the church these days.

We find ourselves searching for the right soil to root and sustain a Cross-shaped community in rapidly changing times and a constantly shifting landscape. It isn’t easy to pass on to our kids the faith that has carried us for so long and through so much. It’s a challenge to bless a world that’s been on fire for so long it’s forgotten how to recognize the healing that can come in a cool breeze.

That’s what happens when you dare to seek truth in an old story that promises good news in a world captivated by anti-heroes and held captive by fake news. That’s what happens when you try to speak when fewer people want to listen, often as a result of others who have spoken for you. That’s what happens when you seek to live into a calling to be a light to nations who wonder if your light hasn’t been out for a while.

And so today, we are haunted by the question of whether the words we know and the stories that shape us are enough. We’ve tried to use different words and mold our stories into other ones. We’ve walked the path others have trod before, seeking comfort in cultural standing and security in political power.

Because that’s the natural response when you are faced with insecurity and vulnerability. That’s what you do when the ground beneath you shifts.

But what you discover is that the powers and principalities don’t have what you need. What you find is there is a cost that comes from using the words of Washington. There’s a price to be paid when the Kingdom of God starts to sound a whole lot less about God and a whole lot more about kingdoms. Trading the vocabulary of sin and redemption for political action and demographic research opens up a void that can’t be filled.

What we’ve lost is the ability to speak words with enough weight to hold life. The price we’ve paid is in forgetting how to tell a story of a Kingdom of plenty. The void we feel comes from missing the vision of a God who is building a table big enough for anybody who wants to be fed.

Exile

The words and images evoke the opening of the Psalms as well as a story Jesus told about a sower. But the word from the Bible for this is Exile.

Exile stands at the heart of the Bible; you can’t understand the narrative of Scripture if you don’t know about Exile.

When Nebuchadnezzar scaled the walls of Jerusalem in 587 and destroyed everything in sight, Exile entered the Jewish vocabulary and imagination. But Exile is more than an event; it is a tragedy that forced people into a new way of life filled with questions about faith, a crisis of identity and a search for answers about what went wrong and how they were going to rebuild out of the rubble.

The prophets, of course, had warned that Exile was coming if the people didn’t turn from their wicked ways and return to the ways of the Lord. Disaster was looming, the prophets thundered, and it wasn’t too much for God to use someone outside of Israel for God’s purposes – someone, like say, Nebuchadnezzar. But hearing that Exile was a possibility and facing the consequences of its gut-wrenching reality were two different things.

Exile doesn’t end God’s relationship with Israel, but it does bring about hard lessons and new questions.

As people who had been evicted from the land, they were forced to reckon with the character of God’s promise. As those who have been ripped away from their families, some to never see their children again, they had to wrestle with their own identity and the character of the God in whom they had heard about if not always trusted.

They had to come to grips with whether God could be worshiped apart from a Temple that was once the center of their lives. They had to learn how to trust God again in a world where even Jerusalem wasn’t safe. They had to figure out whether their way of life could still hold, whether the patterns they had come to count on still made sense in a world a whole lot different than the one they thought they knew. They had to decide if God’s mercies were new each morning was a promise they could count on or whether those were just words that sounded good.

In sum, they had to do theology in the midst of trauma. They had to study and pray and, most importantly, they had to remember. They had to take note of their experience with God and remember the testimony of their ancestors. They had to remember that God had been on the move with them before there was a temple, that God has showed them the way out of slavery in Egypt and that God had not been confined to a building but had been mobile in a cloud.

They all don’t come to the same conclusion about the best way to proceed; the response to Exile isn’t uniform. Just like today, different groups proposed different solutions to the new reality. Some sought a military solution to overthrow their captors while others explored isolation in search of a place where they could practice their faith undisturbed. Still others advocated for some sort of assimilation that involved adopting the culture of their new home.

At their best they sought to be faithful to the God who had sent them into Exile but who wasn’t done with them just yet. In the end, the people came to realize they were paying the price for breaking the one rule you do not break, at least when it comes to being in relationship with God. Idolatry – seeking security in anything or anyone but the God of the Covenant – always leads to disaster. But they clung to the hope that their lived disaster wasn’t final because the God they knew was one whose mercy never ran out. Their hope centered on the truth they knew more firmly than anything else – they were still bound to God because God has chosen to still be bound to them.

Exile forced the people to figure out what they really believed about God and what being in relationship with God was going to look like in this new world order. It wasn’t just about how to sing the old songs in a strange land but about how to trust God while longing for home.

Discipleship For An Exiled Church

The first practice for following Jesus as a people experiencing Exile is confession. To live in relationship with God involves owning up to the ways we have traded radical trust in God for the allure of power and principalities. It involves taking seriously the error of our ways and acknowledging the price we have paid for chasing other gods.

The closer we get to Jesus the more we remember that life with God isn’t about the preservation of a way or life or relishing in the new opportunities other kingdoms promise. Instead, faithfulness is centered on radical trust in the God who has called us into being. That means placing our lives not in the hands of powerful people or institutions that have spanned centuries, but in the rock who has promised never to walk away or forsake us, abandon or leave us behind.

Confession, then, leads to repentance and reorientation. Exile reorients by teaching us that the words and stories we so easily gave up are actually the anchors of the life with God we so desperately need. Searching for a foothold in a shifting cultural landscape has shown us that the place we can put down roots is the old story told in words we’ve heard plenty of times before.

We are learning that despite all the technology we can get into our hands, our lives still hinge on our fundamental relationships – with God and the people close to us. The Gospel is reconciliation – and new creation is still the balm we all need for the wounds that fester among us and within us. Sin that ravages our lives and wrecks our communities might have new hashtags, but what we most need hasn’t changed – sin for grace and redemption for brokenness. The hope for a day beyond exile still rests in the relationships that God wants to give us.

Confession and reorientation lead us to trust. It is the potential to rediscover the trustworthiness of God that redeems the bitterness of Exile. Exile isn’t pleasant and it isn’t without deep costs. But we can be restored through Exile if we learn once again that God can be trusted.

The path forward isn’t in doing it the way we used to do it and we can’t find it in a new system or a creative structure. That’s because the path out of Exile is the path out of the Wilderness and is the path that leads to Golgatha. The way forward is rediscovering how to walk with the God who is still here, even in the strange land. The gift is the presence of the God who still makes it possible to sing even when the ground seems unsteady. The life out of Exile is rediscovering how to depend on the God who delivers on the promise never to let us go.

Thank You So Much For Sharing...

We Will

On Sunday morning our family walked up and stood in front of the church I have been called to help lead. Me, I’m used to that. In fact, it’s expected. It is, despite my serious introversion, a job requirement.

My wife doesn’t enjoy being up front; she avoids it at almost all costs. My daughter, at least so far, is happy as long as there is somewhere to sleep and a pacifier nearby. And yet, there Erin and I were, standing with our daughter and our parents while everyone else stared at us as we prepared to answer some questions from a preacher.

They weren’t just any questions either, but questions about our faith. We were asked what we believe is most fundamentally true – about God and the world that God loves. We were asked about life – particularly the kind of life we believe is worth living, the life we want for ourselves and the one we want for our daughter. We were asked about our commitments – what we were willing to do and what we weren’t willing to do.

Question 1: Do you renounce the spiritual forces of wickedness, reject the evil powers of this world and repent of your sin?

We do.

Question 2: Do you accept the freedom and power God gives you to resist evil, injustice and oppression in whatever forms they present themselves?

We do.

Question 3: Do you confess Jesus Christ as your Savior, put your whole trust in his grace and promise to serve him as your Lord, in union with the Church which Christ has opened to people of all ages, nations and races?

We do.

Question 4: Will you nurture your daughter in Christ’s holy Church, that by your teaching and example she may be guided to accept God’s grace for herself, to profess her faith openly and to lead a Christian life?

We will.

Serious questions these are, questions that require serious answers. There’s nothing that forces you to come to grips with what you really believe is important quite like trying to raise a child.

My wife and I were raised in two different church traditions, particularly when it comes to baptism. She grew up in a tradition that prefers adult baptism and infant dedication. I grew up in one that practices infant baptism and mostly teenage confirmation.

Before our daughter was born we had plenty of conversations about the sacrament– when and how it would be offered if we had a child, why each tradition made sense and what it all meant to receive the waters and blessing of being baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit.

And so we made the walk from our seats to the front of the church Sunday not in respect to tradition or out of some ecclesial obligation, but because of what we have come to believe is true about the way God works in our lives and in the world.

We looked at each other and smiled as we heard a friend pronounce the words over our daughter:

I baptize you in the name of God the Father, God the Son and God the Holy Spirit.

Because this we believe – these questions are impossible to truthfully answer yes to on our own.

Sin and evil lurk around every corner and find their way into our lives when we are looking and when we aren’t. How could we possibly reject them by ourselves?

Rejecting evil, injustice and oppression is a supersized task, even if the freedom does come from God. There isn’t a day that goes by when we aren’t aware – even as privileged and relatively comfortable people – of the injustices and evils and oppression that friends and neighbors face on a near constant basis. Rejecting these is God-sized work.

The very nature of faith is trust and yet we are keenly aware of how easy it is to place trust in other things – reputation, money, popularity, and comfort just to name a few. And while the Gospel breaks down every barrier, many of which we don’t name in the liturgy, I admit that I’m still pretty good at clinging to the old identities and ways of being.

And then there’s the real tough one – that our lives are to be examples to our daughter that will lead her to Christ. We’re supposed to live in such a way that she will reject the idolatries of the world and find freedom from the sins that bind us and might bind her. It isn’t our intellect or powers of persuasion that we are being asked to affirm, but the integrity of how we try to follow Jesus.

How could anyone say yes to these questions?

And yet there we were, declaring with boldness and confidence that we will resist evil and oppression, that we will  live in the freedom of God, that we will put our whole trust in God’s grace and that our lives will bear witness to the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

We did it because we know that the same grace our daughter was receiving in the water – the power to resist sin and grow in grace – was at work in our lives. The same grace that was drawing her to God before she is even aware of it is the same grace that is sustaining and pulling us forward in our life with God as well. Our own strength and faith commitments announce a dreary No. But with God’s grace, working in our lives and the lives of our faithful friends and community we can shout a joy-filled Yes.

Christ is alive. Grace is ever-present. God is at work.

Will you follow Jesus and show your daughter how to do the same?

Without reservation – We Will!

Thank You So Much For Sharing...

Beyond Fear: The Shove of Resurrection

For some people the Resurrection stories are some of the hardest in all of the Bible to believe. After all, it’s never been easy to make sense of Resurrection. But in some ways they are among the easiest to believe, because it doesn’t take too much imagination to identify with what we read there – people overwhelmed by fear, paralyzed by worry and struggling to find a clear idea of what it all means.

It doesn’t matter which Gospel you read, because this is what we encounter in almost every story that involves Jesus appearing after Easter morning. It is probably most vivid, however, in Mary’s encounter with Jesus at the tomb.

We don’t find her laughing or celebrating, but instead John tells us that she was weeping. She didn’t know what to believe. She didn’t know what had happened. She assumed the worst – that someone had stolen his body – maybe the one thing that could make a terrible week even worse. The event that gives us hope and faith had reduced her to fear and anguish.

And yet, that’s not how she left the tomb. Because Jesus was there and he helped her make sense of it all. He showed her that there was more to this story – and hers. Because she had a role to play – go and tell your friends what you have seen and what you have heard.

At the tomb on Easter morning Mary experienced a journey from fear to mission – from where have you taken him to I have seen the Lord.

Mary isn’t the only one to experience the Resurrection in this way. In Luke 24 we read how a walking Bible Study with Jesus helped two men get to a place where they too could say we have seen the Lord. It was on a beach that Peter had the conversation and received the forgiveness he desperately needed.

Three times Jesus asked Peter if he loved him, once for each time Peter had betrayed him, of course. This is the moment Peter received the forgiveness he needed and this is the moment Peter discovered the purpose and mission Jesus has for his life.

Because in a post-Resurrection world, forgiveness always leads to discovering your purpose and receiving your mission.

That’s why this story matters so much.  We know, with Mary at the tomb, what it is like to be assaulted by grief. We know, with the men on the road to Emmaus, what it is like to walk away in despair. We know, with Peter on the beach, what it is to desperately need forgiveness.

And so we rejoice after Easter that the worries that threaten to stop us in our tracks don’t. We celebrate in the light of Sunday the possibilities for new life that come when we begin to understand how God’s story is still unfolding in us, even now. We experience joy in Resurrection when we realize the purpose and mission for our lives that comes from receiving and experiencing God’s forgiveness and grace.

The Resurrection matters because we have become convinced that there is a power within us that is strong enough to break the bonds of fear. We live by the grace that is stronger than judgement and rest in the forgiveness that frees us from anything that would prevent us from living in the light of God’s love. We cling with everything we have to the promise of Romans 8 that because of all that has happened we trust that there is absolutely nothing with the power to separate us from God’s love.

Resurrection matters when it becomes the reality that lingers every day of our lives as we live into the new mission we have been given. God’s victory over death invites us to tell when and where we have seen the Lord. The light that shines out of the empty tomb calls us to bear witness to God’s love in a world that desperately needs a glimpse of it any way it can get it. We experience the joy of new life by getting to participate in the new thing God is doing in redeeming and restoring the world.

A journey that begins in fear ends in becoming partners with God to change the world.

That’s why Easter matters.

 

Thank You So Much For Sharing...

40 Days, 40 Ways: A Practical Guide For a Holy Lent

It’s more than weird to look forward to Lent. It is a theological contradiction.

But, as I like to say, people are complicated. I know I am.

The last few months have been a roller coaster, and not just in the ways we experience on television and online. My wife and I welcomed our first child in December and spent the first month of her life in the NICU. What I’ve discovered in returning back to the life I knew before – with work and access to opinions – is that I need this season of Lent.

Returning to relationships and trying to lead a community has reminded me that I need the gift of these forty days as much as I ever did. I need the intentionality that comes from giving something up or taking something on. I need the focus that comes when my own inadequacies and brokenness are revealed. I need the reminder that on my own I am powerless but in Jesus power doesn’t come from my strength but in my weakness.

Some people have a hard time appreciating Lent, with its brooding darkness, its emphasis on sinfulness and confession, its near constant reminder of our inability to stand on our own. But its essential. Not only is it impossible to appreciate the light of Christ’s Advent at Christmas or the glory of Resurrection at Easter without Lent, but these forty days teach us plenty about God and about ourselves, particularly the truths we would give anything to keep hidden.

We begin, a week from today, with a reminder and a charge. The priest leads us to recall how the wages of sin are death – “From dust we have come and to dust we shall return” – and invites us to the new life that comes by reorienting our lives – “Repent and Believe the Gospel”.

Law and Gospel. Truth and Grace. There’s plenty there, maybe all of it.

And so we embark on a journey to remember all the ways sin has carved out a wall between us and God. We go through these days coming to grips with the ways our idolatries, of various stripes and orientations, mar our relationship with one another. The disciplines remind us that the passions we allow to rule our hearts and minds might make us feel good for a minute but in the end do long term damage to our souls. We begin to come to grips, maybe for the first time, with the reality that we are powerless if we have to stand on our own. By the end of this journey into and out of the wilderness we hope we have learned, at least a little bit, how to find our hope in the help that comes in the surprising form of redeeming, renewing and restoring grace.

At its best, Lent isn’t a six week experience in self-loathing and confession. Instead, it’s an opportunity to pay attention to the cracks and to watch what happens when we let in the light of God’s grace. It’s not about making ourselves feel bad or thinking that somehow we can do something to make us more right with God. This season, instead, is about watching and paying attention, being reminded of the places we most desperately need God’s grace, and then taking on a practice or discipline that can help us reconnect with the God who still comes to us and for us.

Often Christians have either given something up for Lent or taken something on. Giving something up can produce gratitude and appreciation for our utter dependence on God. Taking something on can help us become intentional about reconnecting with the Source of our life and hope. However you fast or whatever practice you take on this year, my prayer is that this will for you a Holy Lent in which you come to know and appreciate how much and how deeply you are loved.

As for me, I’m going to commit to practicing the Examen more regularly and to explore the fullness of the Cross by reading Jürgen Moltmann’s The Crucified God.

But in the meantime, here a few ideas that might help you leave your idols and rend your hearts this season.

1. The Psalms: Commit to reading the Psalms – every single one of them. The Psalms are one of the best ways we learn how to pray. This was my Lenten practice for a few years and I highly recommend it. Save Psalm 22 for Good Friday.

2. Dive in:  Maybe there’s a particular book or section of the Bible you’ve wanted to spend more time in. Maybe you’ve always wanted to read and understand Exodus or some of Paul’s letters. Lent is a good time to do just that.  A good commentary to read with the Scripture can help.

3, Let Luke 9 Be Your Guide:  We read in Luke 9:53 that Jesus set his face for Jerusalem. You might simply finish the Gospel from there, letting Jesus’ mission and ministry on the way to Jerusalem and the redemptive suffering he experienced for us once he got there order your days and devotional life.

4. Explore Holy Week: – Spend time preparing for Holy Week by reading the narratives from the Gospel that describe Jesus’ final week. Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan’s The Last Week is a great companion.

5. Don’t Just Read About It: Commit to spending your Holy Week living through the story with a local church. If you are part of a local church participate in their services – maybe volunteer to read or serve as part of the worship services (Speaking from experience – pastors and worship teams are always looking to fill slots particularly on Thursday and Friday). If you don’t have a local church, commit to attending services to experience the depth of mercy of the Cross.

6. Begin Well: Mark out time next week to begin your journey through Lent by being marked with the ashes – from dust you have come and to dust you shall return.

7. Find Answers on the Atonement: Engage a good book to help you understand how Christians have historically made sense of the Cross. If you want to really nerd out, join me in reading The Crucified God. Other good resources include Christ the Center, by Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Sign and Sacrifice, The Meaning of the Cross, by Rowan Williams, or God For Us. There are plenty others out there, these are just a few.

8. Walk With Others: Most churches offer a special class or small group during Lent. Check one out and see what happens.

9. Find Some New Companions: Sometimes we need to know that we aren’t the only ones who struggle with faith or discipleship and need to learn through the stories of others. There are a lot of good spiritual memoirs out there, stories of people who experienced grace in a new way. One of my favorites is Found, by Micha Boyett (It’s currently a little more than a dollar on Amazon.). Take This Bread by Sara Miles is a gift, as is Liturgy of the Ordinary, which just happens to be written by my friend, Tish.

10. Trade Talk Radio For a Podcast: Instead of spending your time listening to the latest sports controversy or diving into opinion on the latest political rant, download a podcast or two and spend your time in the car being nourished. A couple of my favorites are The Practice Podcast and On Being: With Krista Tippett.

Sometimes we need to know that we aren’t the only ones who struggle with faith or discipleship and need to learn through the stories of others.

11. Take a Spiritual Inventory: Lent is a great time to take stock of your life and faith, to see the ways your life reflects your faith and the ways it could reflect it a little more strongly. This is a great way for families to reorder their lives intentionally instead of living as our schedules dictate. Erin and I are reading Becoming and Belonging, but there are plenty of other books out there. Sacred Rhythms, by Ruth Haley Barton, is a great resource for learning and ordering your life through a rule of faith.

12. Read a Book With Your Spouse: My wife and I try to read a book together every year during Lent and Advent. We don’t always stick to it, but when we do we’ve found it a great way to reconnect, have conversations about things we care about and allow God to work in and through each of us to help us one another grow closer to God.

13. Fast, No Seriously, Fast: I’ve always fasted on Good Friday, a small way to attempt solidarity with Jesus. My friends, Katie, Andra and Mike taught me the power of fasting. I didn’t always love it, but it did always teach me something. Fasting has a weird ability to make you grateful and aware of all the ways God takes care of you.

14. But At Least Put Your Phone Down: One of the biggest obstacles to my relationships – with God and with other people – is my addiction to my phone. If you can’t give up your phone for a day, find time to put it away and focus on the gifts all around you. By actually enjoying life in front of you, instead of what other people are doing online, you might catch a glimpse of the beauty you have missed.

15. But When You Look At It Pray: When you get a text from someone, particularly someone you struggle with, pray for them. Invite God to bless them and for them to receive grace, wherever they are. If you want to get real brave, you might even text them back and ask them how you might pray for them.

16. Remember Your Baptism: Jesus’ march to the Cross began in the Jordan, when John baptized him and God blessed him. Our service flows from our baptism. You might begin each day in the shower simply remembering that you have been baptized and how that makes all the difference.

17. Write a Letter: People don’t write letters anymore but maybe we should. Write a letter to someone in your life who has made a difference. Share with them how God has used them to bless you.

18. Encourage Someone: This is a great thing to do for someone you don’t always see eye-to-eye with. We define ourselves so quickly based on what we think or particularly in 2017 how we voted. Find a way to encourage someone who sees the world differently than you do. Tell them how grateful you are for them, even if their bumper stickers or Facebook posts make you want to pull your hair out.

19. Tweet Love: I’ve never been one to give up Facebook for Lent – too much of the ministry I do happens there. And so if you must Facebook, Facebook with love. Commit to giving people the benefit of the doubt. Commit to encouraging someone else. Commit to remembering that you can count on one hand the number of people whose minds your political post changed, if that number even goes to one. But seriously, how might our witness be strengthened if we committed to loving one another well through how we interact online?

20. Give Something Up: I’m not talking about something trivial here. Give something up that makes you angry, that sends you off the deep end, that distracts you from becoming the person that God wants you to be. The Desert Mothers and Fathers taught that the passions were anything that pulled us away from God. So give up one of these passions in your life and celebrate how much better life becomes when you do.

21. Try Something New: Try a new spiritual practice, particularly if you are in a rut. There are plenty of practices out there – different ways to pray or read Scripture, new avenues to journal or use art, exciting approaches using the spoken word or silence. Pick something new and live into it for a season. You might be surprised how God can work through it.

22. End Your Day With the Examen: Part of the Spiritual Exercises, the Examen invites us to review our day, celebrate the good and the bad, and see all the places God was at work in our life even if we didn’t see it at the time.

23. Keep a Gratitude Journal: One of the best ways we can experience God’s grace in our lives is to commit to practicing gratitude. Take a moment at the end of the day to celebrate what you are grateful for and how you experienced God during these 24 hours. It will change your life.

24. Try Liturgical Prayer: Sometimes we feel like we will never have the right words when we pray. Fortunately the Church has prayers available to us. A great place to start is the Liturgy of the Hours. Many of my colleagues have been blessed by Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals.

25. Words of Life: Lectio Divina is a way of praying Scripture. It literally means divine reading. You can do it in about 20 minutes. It’s a great way to begin your day.

26. Commit to Something: Whatever practice you choose, commit and schedule it. Try to commit to doing something everyday. Even if it doesn’t seem like much you will notice a difference.

27. Challenge Yourself: We live in an echo chamber in which we can get the news and experience the world with our own slants. One thing you might do during Lent is commit to reading something that might help you understand the point of view of people you disagree with. It might be one of the most radical practices you could choose for this season.

28. Liberals, Read This: If you find yourself furious at your uncle who voted for President Trump, you might read Strangers in Their Own Land in which an academic from Berkeley travels to Louisiana to listen and learn from members of the Tea Party.

29. Conservatives, Listen Up: If you are fed up with all the protests and the anger and the rage from your liberal friends on Facebook, you might read Just Mercy, by Bryan Stevenson. Or if fiction is more your style, try The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead.

30. You’ve Got To Move It: It’s amazing the difference exercise can make in your overall outlook and your connection with God. Commit to exercising and then to praying once you are finished. For some of us prayer is the natural response that we actually survived the experience.

Try to commit to doing something everyday. Even if it doesn’t seem like much you will notice a difference.

31. Neighborhood Prayer: One way to get exercise is to walk around your neighborhood. Pay attention to what you see, who lives there, maybe the people you’ve never noticed before. Pray for your neighborhood, asking for God to move in it, and how you might play a role in making it a better place for everyone to live, to raise their kids and experience the wholeness we were created for.

32. Shelf The Booze: Fast from or consume less alcohol and donate the proceeds to charities or ministries that work with people struggling with addiction like Celebrate Recovery.

33. Spread Your Wealth: Fasting can also help you save money to donate to charities or ministries that work for good in areas you are passionate about. One of the great kingdom efforts in Tennessee is Thistle Farms, a ministry that encourages and empowers women who have been victims of abuse. For those of us concerned and upset about the new restrictions on refugees, finding a way to support organizations that advocate for immigrants and refugees is a great idea as well.

34.Be a Neighbor: Connect with your neighbors, next door and across the street.  Find out what’s going on with their families and in their lives.  Know specifically what you can pray for them about. Good neighborhoods make good communities, and good communities are one way God’s mission goes forward.

35. Pray For Leaders: Most of us don’t agree with everyone who is in charge about everything, but they need all the help they can get.  Add the mayor, school principal, county commissioners, governor, members of Congress and President to your prayer list.

36. Lift Up The Lonely: Our church makes a special effort to connect with our homebound members and others who struggle to find community during Lent. Take the time to send a card. If you work with youth or other church groups, this is a great time to visit nursing homes or other long-term care facilities.

37. In Short, Invest in Relationships: We are so busy and despite having more ways to be connected we have become less connected in actual relationships than ever before. Take some time to take someone to lunch or coffee and sit with them and learn what’s really going on.

38. Get Informed Where You Live: We all seem to know more than we would like about national and global politics. But there is plenty in our neighborhoods to become informed about. Get informed about issues with education or health care in your local community. Pray for the leaders and ask for God’s wisdom about how you can make a difference.

39.Mentor: Believe it or not you have skills that could help another person. Commit to finding relationships and ways you can improve someone’s life with the skills and knowledge you already have.

40. Be Intentional: Above all, be intentional and have a holy Lent as God does work in you and through you. May this be a season that you long remember for the ways God transformed your life, the life of your family, the life of your community and the life of the world.

Thank You So Much For Sharing...

Keep Knocking

Some words just stay with us. No matter what we do or where our lives take us we just can’t get rid of them. They appear out of nowhere and find us in the middle of the night, only to stay for a while in the times when we would rather think about anything else.

You can read some of the words that like to torment me in the fourth chapter of Ephesians.  They interrogated me all those years ago when I first considered Jesus and they have returned with a vengeance lately:

“I beg you to live a life worthy of the calling you have received.”

It’s hard out there for everybody, it seems, and certainty for those of trying to lead in and through the church. People are angry and overwhelmed. We see it most clearly online around politics, but that’s far from the only place. People are generally scared and overwhelmed. And so we lash out and we tell people what they have to do. We long for a better way but we also seem to have given up the belief that such a way is possible. We once believed in exceptionalism. Now we settle for inevitability.

I, like seemingly everyone else, am anxious too. I wonder what it means to take on a ministry of reconciliation in a world that gets more fractured and pulled apart every day. I search for answers as I read and pray in a sea of problems that seem too large for me to solve. I keep looking for a way beyond despair from powers and principalities that seem much too large for me to influence or confront.

What does it mean to be faithful to the Gospel I trust right now?  Indeed, those old words are back. What is required of me to live a life worthy of the calling I have received?

Jesus once told a story to explain prayer and action. He talked about someone going to a friend’s house late at night in search of bread. The moral of the story was this: keep knocking.

He said that if you keep knocking the door will be opened. He said that if you keep knocking someone will listen to you. He said if you keep knocking even though someone’s first instinct is to keep the door shut and pray the knocking will end, if you keep at it the door will eventually swing wide open.

Living a life worthy of the calling means to keep knocking. So even when it feels like it doesn’t make a difference, we are going to keep gathering people to read our Story that says God is preparing a table for all the children of the world. When it seems like no one is listening we are going to keep telling the truth as we understand it. When the shouting is only getting louder we are going to make space to listen because we know that God hates a divided world and is making a better one. When we are hungry for a better way we are going to gather around a Table because we know the one thing we have in common is a desperate need to be fed. When we wonder if there is anything we can possibly do to make a difference we are going to work and pray because we’ve come to believe that without God’s help, it might be impossible.  But we have seen that when God gets involved justice does roll down like waters even if the water hasn’t reached everybody just yet.

To trust in the God of the Bible is to trust that truth – that God is with us. And so as followers of Jesus we trust that the best way to transform the world is to do the things Jesus told us to do. After all, he said he came not to condemn the world or even to leave it alone but to transform it and renew it with love.

It is because we know that we aren’t alone that we can keep knocking. We can keep knocking because we know we don’t have to take on the powers all by ourselves. We can keep working at reconciliation because we know God is at work in it with us. We can advocate for justice again and again because we know that we aren’t working on our own. We can do the seemingly innocent but actual radical work of reading and living in this Story because we know God is still writing it in and through us. After all, Jesus told us that we were to be his witnesses, and that God was giving us the power and the wisdom to do it well, despite ourselves.

It is easy to get discouraged and to feel overwhelmed. It is easy to believe that your work and your life don’t have the power to make anything change.

But you aren’t doing this stuff on your own. You can live a life worthy of the incredible calling you have received.

Don’t give up. Keep knocking.

Thank You So Much For Sharing...