Have you every had a really ordinary experience turn extraordinary all at once? You’re in your favorite spot doing your regular gig, and then all of a sudden what was once commonplace now turns completely surreal. Everything changes. Something has interrupted your groove and perhaps intervened for some purpose. Something, be that a person, a sound, a commotion, a conversation, or a timely word, has altered what may have been an unrecognized passing moment.
I had one such experience, last week, actually. I was in my favorite writing spot in NW Calgary, which for many of you who know me well can probably guess as the Starbucks in Crowfoot. I grabbed my quasi-usual armchair beside the couch and coffee table, ordered my tall-bold-no-room coffee, leaned back in pure satisfaction after my first sip, and began writing in my coil notebook. Such was the routine I was accustomed to at this Starbucks. Nothing out of the ordinary, simply complete bliss and relaxation; the perfect atmosphere to engage in writing. I wrote about 3 pages until my first pleasant surprise came along.
It came with a familiar voice that I’ve grown to love dearly and followed by a surprised laugh that I could pinpoint in any crowd. I looked up already expecting to see my mom and dad ordering their coffee at the till. They had been out running some errands and came to the Starbucks with no presumption I would be sitting in their writing. They sat on the couch beside my armchair and we talked about the day, about the weekend and about my future as a pastor. I shared some of my anxieties and concerns about my job placement, not least of which was my faith in God’s direction. Little did I know in that commonplace moment my faith would be tested not two hours later in that exact same spot. My parents finished the last few sips of their coffee and made it on their way again. I stayed behind to continue writing. I felt as though I was on a roll and was compelled to continue until I couldn’t write any more.
I was intently writing on loving God and refusing to make excuses that lead toward mediocrity. Having written the developing thoughts of my argument I started to passionately drive home my point. As I began this literary journey, my excursion was interrupted abruptly. At first I thought the interruption originated from the two overly-dramatic girls who couldn’t decide whether they wanted to sit on the couch beside me or on the stools. With a few whispers and laughs they opted for the stools and I dismissed the interruption as an inconvenient distraction. The interruption came again, this time more poignantly than before. I put down my pen, gently closed my notebook and listened. Without a doubt I heard something. It was not auditory, yet undeniably vocal. The calling that was neither human nor earthly simultaneously gripped my heart and mind. The instruction was clear: “In a moment someone will sit beside you on the couch. They will ask you what you are writing. You must tell them.”
At first I was paralyzed with fear at encounter and the possibility that it could be supernatural prophecy. A moment later I tried everything I could to dismiss the instruction as my mind playing tricks on me. I grabbed my pen, opened my notebook and began to write frantically in attempts to distract myself. The recollection of the encounter never quite left. Deep in my being I knew the instruction would come to pass. It was simply a matter of time and my willingness.
Strangely enough, the two whimsical girls came back to sit on the couch, but not quite beside me. They sat at the opposite end, continuing in their female gabble and giggles. I half expected one of them to ask what I was writing, but when they got up and returned to their car a strange and fleeting sense of failure brushed my mind. Was I supposed to begin a conversation with these two that would lead them to ask what I was writing? Was I paralyzed by my own lack of faith to pursue what was right? Though the thought was present, I was able to easily dismiss it. I felt a sense of peace even in dismissing the sense of failure, trusting that if the aforementioned instruction were indeed supernatural guidance, the experience to come would be undeniable. All the same, I still dreaded sharing my faith with a stranger.
It wasn’t five minutes after the last guests on the couch beside me dismissed themselves that another group of college students came to the till beside me to order their coffees. It was a group of four of them, this time, one of whom was impossible to miss. They say there are two kinds of people in this world: those who are introverts and those who are extroverts, but I would have to say the guy that just came in, the one who was impossible to miss, he was in a category all on his own. I am an extrovert. Compared to this guy, I seem like the shyest person you will ever meet. I don’t think there was one word this guy said that anyone in the Starbucks missed. For that matter, I don’t think there was one thought this guy had that wasn’t made explicitly auditory. He was certainly the strongest personality in his group of friends, and he engaged each of them, along with half the people in the Starbucks, as he vibrantly recounted the events of the last week. Mind you, it was not so much the captivating nature of the stories that compelled the attention of so many, but more so the sheer volume and presence of his personality. I looked up from my notebook to catch a glance of this character. I quickly noticed that I was not the only one spotting this individual. Having seen all I needed, I bowed my head and said a gentle prayer somewhat to the effect of, “Dear God, thank you so much for this guy at the till and his vibrant personality. Please help him to sit anywhere but on this couch next to me. Amen.” That was mistake number one. I don’t know what it is with God and answering these kinds of prayers, maybe it’s his sense of humor, but for whatever reason things seem to happen in the exact opposite way you want them to every time. “Hey man! Can we sit on this couch thingy beside you?” he nodded toward the couch and began to sit down before I answered. “Absolutely! Please, be my guest!” If my prayer was mistake number one then this response was mistake number two. Absolutely? Be my guest? I was making it sound like I wanted him to sit down. Immediately after I gave this invitation, pen and notebook in hand, I knew without a shadow of a doubt what the next question would be.
When you expect that a certain event that will take you out of your comfort zone may occur, you become anxious. When you realize there is no chance whatsoever in avoiding such an event, you become terrified. I was terrified. It wouldn’t be so bad if I knew that I could kind of enter into a surface level conversation, barely, but I knew with this guy there was no possibility of that.
The question came without any form of disguise whatsoever. “What are you writing?” he asked. When the instruction I heard earlier told me someone would ask me what I was writing, I didn’t think the instruction was that literal. I paused for what seemed to be an eternity. “Uh, well, haha,” I think were the first profound words that came out of my mouth. I considered for a split second to lie or to tell about something else I had written. A second later, though, I knew what I needed to say, “I’m actually writing a book about life and my thoughts on God.”
“Oh, so you believe in God?”
“Yes, I do”
“Oh, so you believe there is a heaven and a hell then?”
“Yes, I do”
Without the slightest hesitation, this guy began to tell me his opinion of heaven and hell as if I had asked him for it. “yeah, I believe in heaven and hell to, but like, I believe that earth is hell. I believe that heaven is where you go when you escape hell, so like, I believe in reincarnation. Do you believe in reincarnation? Do you believe that it’s possible?”
I wanted to be as respectful as possible without compromising my convictions, “well, um, no, not really, no, I don’t believe that.”
“So do you believe God is a man?”
“Well, I believe in Jesus, Yes.”
What came next surprised me. This guy obviously knew about Christianity and had chosen not to believe in it, “Oh, so you believe that God came to earth and he died on a cross to save the world and forgive sin and all that?”
“Yep, I guess, that sounds about right”
“I don’t believe in that. So do you think of God as a big man with long grey hair?”
I could tell he was partly mocking me, yet not without an appreciation for my opposing views. The conversation ended shortly after this question as this guy and his friends lost interest in the topic and conversation. I should say that while the guy bombarding me with questions was obviously not uncomfortable about pursuing the theological discussion, his friends more than obviously were. The entire time each of them were curled up like worms being scorched on hot pavement. They looked at the floor nearly the entire time as though I was going to start biting their heads off. It was ironically comical.
About ten minutes later the group of friends made it on their way. The guy bid me farewell and good luck on my book, a little tongue-in-cheek, but sincere nonetheless. I sat there on the armchair, dumbfounded to say the least. I shook my head and laughed quietly to myself. I had to take a moment to process everything that had just happened. It seemed like a really weird dream or something that you would read about. I guess I never thought I’d be the one writing the story. I finished my journal entry in my coil notebook, imagining what sort of influence my testimony may have had. What was its purpose? Why did God bring that exact person to me at that exact moment? Was it some sort of test?
The timing of events to my thoughts was beginning to seem a little beyond coincidental. During this entire experience at Starbucks I would be processing a thought and then immediately the answer would come. This last thought was no exception. Right as I was processing the purpose of the encounter, I was interrupted one last time. This time when I looked up I saw an old friendly face I had never seen before. It was a strong but older man, probably edging his late 60’s. With grey hair and glasses he looked at me and smiled and said, “I heard what you said to those people sitting over there. Way to go! Keep up the good work!” he gave me a thumbs-up, smiled once again, and turned to leave. I expressed my thanks for his encouragement, and I was encouraged. I was very encouraged. I guess I passed the test.
I forgot to mention something about this last stranger. I never did see him come in to the Starbucks. I distinctly remember looking over my shoulder before the group of people came in and the man wasn’t behind me. Of course, the man could have been hidden behind some ornament or poster board, but what happened next was even more astonishing. I looked down at my notebook briefly after the man turned to leave and I looked up again and the man was gone. I don’t really even know if anyone but me knew he was there. Perhaps it was a mysterious encounter with a kind individual who was prompted by God to encourage me. Perhaps it was something else.
You never know who may be watching, listening and observing your testimony; perhaps a guy who needs to be put back on track, perhaps a bystander who will be encouraged by your conviction, or perhaps, perhaps God will be listening in on your conversation with one of his very own messengers…
You never know when God will test you. You never know when your testimony will make an eternal difference. If you were in my shoes tomorrow, would you pass the test?
29.4.10
A Convenient Sickness?
Have you ever had something really unpleasant happen to you at an ironically convenient time? I mean, when you really think about it, has there ever been a time where you were even a little bit thankful for an unpleasant event, or maybe at least thankful that it didn’t happen at a different time?
It’s hard to think of a time like that, isn’t it? We’re really good at remembering the horrible timing of foul events in our lives. We may actually enjoy it; complaining about our dreadful circumstances to gain the attention and sympathy of others. Yet, when it comes to finding bits of joy in our hurts, we’re much less capable. Actually, capable might not be the right word. Perhaps “willing” would be a better fit. We don’t like to find joy in our hurts because it is hard; we want our hurt to go away, not to think about how it might be a blessing. We blind ourselves from the potential blessing of our circumstances with the discomfort of our present. We are so easily narrow-focused.
It was easy for me to be narrow-focused today. I helped my friend Joel move yesterday and almost as soon as I got home I burned up with a fever and almost every muscle in my body ached. I tried to sleep but the fever made my head spin at a million miles an hour. I did get some sleep, but when I woke up, I still felt awful. Actually, as I am writing this blog I still don’t feel that great (Although, the fever is gone and my body doesn’t hurt as bad). I felt sick all day. I wanted so bad for the day just to be over and for the sickness to go away. Oh, by the way, for those of you who don’t know Joel is the other member of this blogspot. Actually, I haven’t told him I am sick yet. Joel, if you are reading this, you should take some cold FX so you don’t get sick too :P. Ok, back to the blog. When I woke up this morning, I realized how much this sickness was going to ruin my day. I had a whole bunch of work I wanted to get done at the church, people I wanted to get together with, and little errands I wanted to get done. None of these were so much as attempted, let alone accomplished. However, when I looked outside my window, my perspective changed a little.
You know how when you wake up in the morning there’s a certain kind of light you’re expecting to be coming through your window? You know, the certain tone and colors of the sunrise through the drapes of your bedroom window that change every season? Well, being as it’s April right now, I was expecting to wake up to the nice warm oranges and reds of a spring sunrise. Instead, I woke up to a violently bright sea of white and grey. It wasn’t because I was sick and now I was hallucinating (although, a part of me kind of wishes I was). It was because during the night we had 20 cm of SNOW! Did I mention that it’s April? Oh, not just April, it’s April 29th… almost MAY! A little late to be having snow don’t you think? But when my eyes finally adjusted to the blinding sunlight reflecting off the dunes of snow on my front yard, I realized how blessed I was with the timing of my sickness. I mean, honestly, could there have been a more convenient time to be sick? There was a ton of snow outside at the end of April which means the roads would be horrific. More than that, the blowing snow would have been like sandpaper against your face, and mixed with the cold and wind chill, would have been a dreadful way to start the day. So here I was sitting in my room staring at the April winter wonderland, and I realized that even if I was not sick, I would be stuck at home all day. So there’s the first part of the blessing.
The second blessing that comes with my sickness is the reality that it didn’t take place at some other significant time, like my grad weekend or during the completion of my final papers. If I had been sick on an occasion like those, I would have been so upset. Thankfully, that was not the case. I was conveniently sick not then, but today.
Finally, my sickness gave me time to think and pray. There is little else you can do when you are sick but to think and pray. You’re likely stuck in bed or on the couch all day. You could watch TV, but it would probably give you a headache before long. So besides sleeping, there’s really not much else to do than to think and to pray. Today I had the opportunity to think and to pray quite a bit (along with sorting some files and pictures on my computer, for which I am also grateful). I had the opportunity to talk with the Creator of all things more than I usually do on a given day. For that I am thankful.
You see, it is so easy to look at what’s wrong in our life. Granted, this fallen world brings a lot of unpleasant and uncomfortable circumstances. However, with an eternal perspective the troubles of our present fade in the light of our connection to Christ. A focus on eternity allows us to see the significance of each moment God has granted to us, and the finitude of our hurts and pains.
When we see God in every moment, we find the fragments of joy in our brokenness.
How has God bless you today?
It’s hard to think of a time like that, isn’t it? We’re really good at remembering the horrible timing of foul events in our lives. We may actually enjoy it; complaining about our dreadful circumstances to gain the attention and sympathy of others. Yet, when it comes to finding bits of joy in our hurts, we’re much less capable. Actually, capable might not be the right word. Perhaps “willing” would be a better fit. We don’t like to find joy in our hurts because it is hard; we want our hurt to go away, not to think about how it might be a blessing. We blind ourselves from the potential blessing of our circumstances with the discomfort of our present. We are so easily narrow-focused.
It was easy for me to be narrow-focused today. I helped my friend Joel move yesterday and almost as soon as I got home I burned up with a fever and almost every muscle in my body ached. I tried to sleep but the fever made my head spin at a million miles an hour. I did get some sleep, but when I woke up, I still felt awful. Actually, as I am writing this blog I still don’t feel that great (Although, the fever is gone and my body doesn’t hurt as bad). I felt sick all day. I wanted so bad for the day just to be over and for the sickness to go away. Oh, by the way, for those of you who don’t know Joel is the other member of this blogspot. Actually, I haven’t told him I am sick yet. Joel, if you are reading this, you should take some cold FX so you don’t get sick too :P. Ok, back to the blog. When I woke up this morning, I realized how much this sickness was going to ruin my day. I had a whole bunch of work I wanted to get done at the church, people I wanted to get together with, and little errands I wanted to get done. None of these were so much as attempted, let alone accomplished. However, when I looked outside my window, my perspective changed a little.
You know how when you wake up in the morning there’s a certain kind of light you’re expecting to be coming through your window? You know, the certain tone and colors of the sunrise through the drapes of your bedroom window that change every season? Well, being as it’s April right now, I was expecting to wake up to the nice warm oranges and reds of a spring sunrise. Instead, I woke up to a violently bright sea of white and grey. It wasn’t because I was sick and now I was hallucinating (although, a part of me kind of wishes I was). It was because during the night we had 20 cm of SNOW! Did I mention that it’s April? Oh, not just April, it’s April 29th… almost MAY! A little late to be having snow don’t you think? But when my eyes finally adjusted to the blinding sunlight reflecting off the dunes of snow on my front yard, I realized how blessed I was with the timing of my sickness. I mean, honestly, could there have been a more convenient time to be sick? There was a ton of snow outside at the end of April which means the roads would be horrific. More than that, the blowing snow would have been like sandpaper against your face, and mixed with the cold and wind chill, would have been a dreadful way to start the day. So here I was sitting in my room staring at the April winter wonderland, and I realized that even if I was not sick, I would be stuck at home all day. So there’s the first part of the blessing.
The second blessing that comes with my sickness is the reality that it didn’t take place at some other significant time, like my grad weekend or during the completion of my final papers. If I had been sick on an occasion like those, I would have been so upset. Thankfully, that was not the case. I was conveniently sick not then, but today.
Finally, my sickness gave me time to think and pray. There is little else you can do when you are sick but to think and pray. You’re likely stuck in bed or on the couch all day. You could watch TV, but it would probably give you a headache before long. So besides sleeping, there’s really not much else to do than to think and to pray. Today I had the opportunity to think and to pray quite a bit (along with sorting some files and pictures on my computer, for which I am also grateful). I had the opportunity to talk with the Creator of all things more than I usually do on a given day. For that I am thankful.
You see, it is so easy to look at what’s wrong in our life. Granted, this fallen world brings a lot of unpleasant and uncomfortable circumstances. However, with an eternal perspective the troubles of our present fade in the light of our connection to Christ. A focus on eternity allows us to see the significance of each moment God has granted to us, and the finitude of our hurts and pains.
When we see God in every moment, we find the fragments of joy in our brokenness.
How has God bless you today?
8.4.10
To know the music
It’s all around us. In front of us. Behind us. In the air. In the ground. Yes, even within our own bodies. Yet, the funny thing is, we so easily miss it. I wonder why that is. Why is it so easy to miss? Some may say it is too quiet, but I don’t think that is the issue. Actually, If I’m going to be honest with you, I think it has much less to do with the volume and much more to do with our listening. In fact, I think that there are times when the volume is piercing and undeniable, and still we will go to the effort of blocking it out and ignoring it all together. And then, when it is quiet or perhaps even silent, we wonder why it isn’t louder instead of leaning in and listening carefully.
We don’t want to hear it until it is convenient. When things are going well, it’s mostly a nuisance. When things are going terrible, it’s never what we want to hear. When we are desperate we listen to everything else. Even when we are at the top of our game, at the peak of the mountain, we still go searching for something else to give us direction. Tell me, does it shock you like it shocks me that when our hopes and dreams come crashing down upon us we don’t know which direction to point our eyes and ears?
We begin listening to everything else, and it consumes us. It consumes us so much that we don’t even recognize the very thing which has always been all around us in every way. We may even fall so deep as to replace what should be heard with something entirely different, thinking the two are the exact same thing. And so I ask again, does it shock you?
It’s easy to miss. But you know, it’s also easy to see if you focus your attention. When you filter your attention on what is good, you will be able to see it; not only in the present, but in a way that you will know it was with you all along.
It’s not always loud. It’s not always audible. I empathize with you if you are in a place where you feel like you can’t hear it. Whether you are there or not, let me encourage you:
The silent symphony of God’s love is love without words, for words aren’t enough.
Eternal life...
... is to know the music
We don’t want to hear it until it is convenient. When things are going well, it’s mostly a nuisance. When things are going terrible, it’s never what we want to hear. When we are desperate we listen to everything else. Even when we are at the top of our game, at the peak of the mountain, we still go searching for something else to give us direction. Tell me, does it shock you like it shocks me that when our hopes and dreams come crashing down upon us we don’t know which direction to point our eyes and ears?
We begin listening to everything else, and it consumes us. It consumes us so much that we don’t even recognize the very thing which has always been all around us in every way. We may even fall so deep as to replace what should be heard with something entirely different, thinking the two are the exact same thing. And so I ask again, does it shock you?
It’s easy to miss. But you know, it’s also easy to see if you focus your attention. When you filter your attention on what is good, you will be able to see it; not only in the present, but in a way that you will know it was with you all along.
It’s not always loud. It’s not always audible. I empathize with you if you are in a place where you feel like you can’t hear it. Whether you are there or not, let me encourage you:
The silent symphony of God’s love is love without words, for words aren’t enough.
Eternal life...
... is to know the music
19.3.10
Read your Bible, Go to Church, and Always Remember to say “Jesus”
Have you ever been stuck inside a bubble? I mean literally, you scrunched inside a 4 foot bubble. I was about 8 when I had my stuck-inside-a-bubble experience. It was at the mall near my house. There was this massive indoor playground with tunnels and jut-outs and ropes and slides and everything an 8-year-old could ever want in a playground. It was a child’s miniature paradise. And when you’re 8 years old, everything seems a thousand times bigger than it actually is. That is how an 8 year old can get completely lost in a playground half the size of a basketball court. It sure doesn’t help when the main focal point of the whole maze of tunnels and tubes is a big clear ball in the center: the bubble. Every single kid made it his or her personal mission to make it to the bubble. I too wanted to get to the bubble, but unlike every other child, I couldn’t find the way. Oh as a sidenote, you’ll probably figure out quite quickly that I am not normal. Ok, continuing. After what seemed to be an eternity (but in actual time, probably only 15 minutes) I stumbled into this strange pathway that I had not been down before. I bent, twisted and jumped through hoops to get through this jungle of plastic and Plexiglas. And all of the work paid off. I was finally there: the bubble.
I was completely overwhelmed with excitement and accomplishment and satisfaction at the fact that I had finally made it into the bubble. For the first five minutes I just sat there in the middle of the bubble in proud victory over the eternal caverns I had overcome. Soon after, some other kids had found their own way into the bubble and we all rejoiced together at our accomplishment. Not too long after this, another group of kids came back to the bubble and attempted to force their way back into the bubble which was once there. In the span of about 2 seconds, all of my feelings of excitement dramatically transformed to panic and desperation. I needed to get out of the bubble. Now.
By this time the bubble was far beyond the limits of human capacity. I wanted desperately to get out of the bubble. To say it was no longer comfortable would be a monstrous understatement. I pushed and fought my way through the bombardment 4-foot’ers and after a little less than forever, I finally made it out of the bubble. I cannot describe to you the sense of disappointment and failure I felt leaving that bubble. I felt excluded, defeated, alone. And I knew the last thing to ever happen would be me getting back into the bubble. There was no chance of that.
And yet I wonder, is my experience as an 8 year old in a massive indoor jungle gym really that different from the churches all around us? If we stop and think about it, does our maturity as members of the body of Christ reflect better on our calling as a human being, or maybe better on that of an immature 8 year old? Or, dare I say, the eight year old could teach us lessons? But even if we were taught by the eight year old child, we wouldn’t listen. We would be too busy in our own bubbles we have created. I mean really, we know everything there is to say and do anyways, right?
Consider with me the foyer of the church. You walk in the doors a few minutes before the service and everyone, absolutely everyone is standing in little pockets of circles. At the drop of a dime they could join hands and start twenty different games of ring-around-the-rosie. But something like that would require effort, and for sure we wouldn’t want that. Who brings effort to church? That’s for after church when you’re making your 12 topping pizza before the big game. No, the circles would continue to be circles and you would only be able to join one if you had made the twists and turns and jumped through hoops to get there. The funny thing is, that’s not even the beginning of the bubble we create. The real trick is understanding the unwritten rules.
Rule number one: Read your bible.
Just read your bible. Open the pages and read words. If you can understand what the words are saying, bonus.
Rule number two: Go to church.
Make sure you come to the main weekend service, and the more you can come during the week, the better.
Rule number three: always remember to say “Jesus”
If there is ever a deep, theological challenge, a main point from the sermon, or basically any question asked in the church, the answer is Jesus. It doesn’t matter what you really think about the issue or question, the answer is Jesus.
Final Rule: We don’t want to offend you.
If anything here or anything said inside the church offends you, feel free to disregard it. We don’t want to offend you.
Of course, I have placed a high level of Sinicism into this thought. I have done this, not to express how I actually feel about the church, but to exaggerate and prove a point. I want us all to understand that the constructs and functions of our churches are not functioning the way they should… and perhaps the trouble we have with our students and congregation giving pat answers to the question, “what is God saying to you” is really a reflection of the “Jesus” bubble we focus all of our attention on creating. And we do such a good job of creating this select, exclusive group that only the qualified few will recognize this Christian bubble as the “Red Letter Bubble”.
Perhaps the red letters of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John are not meant to strengthen the walls of the exclusive, comfortable fellowship of believers, but rather meant to challenge our thoughts, break down our human regulations and heal our paralysis which was brought by self-imposed comfort and complacency. And then, in a very real sense, the red letters which our Savior was dying to say to us might come and bring transforming life renewal.
“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”
2 Corinthians 5:14-15
What might be possible if this verse became the defining reality of our lives?
I was completely overwhelmed with excitement and accomplishment and satisfaction at the fact that I had finally made it into the bubble. For the first five minutes I just sat there in the middle of the bubble in proud victory over the eternal caverns I had overcome. Soon after, some other kids had found their own way into the bubble and we all rejoiced together at our accomplishment. Not too long after this, another group of kids came back to the bubble and attempted to force their way back into the bubble which was once there. In the span of about 2 seconds, all of my feelings of excitement dramatically transformed to panic and desperation. I needed to get out of the bubble. Now.
By this time the bubble was far beyond the limits of human capacity. I wanted desperately to get out of the bubble. To say it was no longer comfortable would be a monstrous understatement. I pushed and fought my way through the bombardment 4-foot’ers and after a little less than forever, I finally made it out of the bubble. I cannot describe to you the sense of disappointment and failure I felt leaving that bubble. I felt excluded, defeated, alone. And I knew the last thing to ever happen would be me getting back into the bubble. There was no chance of that.
And yet I wonder, is my experience as an 8 year old in a massive indoor jungle gym really that different from the churches all around us? If we stop and think about it, does our maturity as members of the body of Christ reflect better on our calling as a human being, or maybe better on that of an immature 8 year old? Or, dare I say, the eight year old could teach us lessons? But even if we were taught by the eight year old child, we wouldn’t listen. We would be too busy in our own bubbles we have created. I mean really, we know everything there is to say and do anyways, right?
Consider with me the foyer of the church. You walk in the doors a few minutes before the service and everyone, absolutely everyone is standing in little pockets of circles. At the drop of a dime they could join hands and start twenty different games of ring-around-the-rosie. But something like that would require effort, and for sure we wouldn’t want that. Who brings effort to church? That’s for after church when you’re making your 12 topping pizza before the big game. No, the circles would continue to be circles and you would only be able to join one if you had made the twists and turns and jumped through hoops to get there. The funny thing is, that’s not even the beginning of the bubble we create. The real trick is understanding the unwritten rules.
Rule number one: Read your bible.
Just read your bible. Open the pages and read words. If you can understand what the words are saying, bonus.
Rule number two: Go to church.
Make sure you come to the main weekend service, and the more you can come during the week, the better.
Rule number three: always remember to say “Jesus”
If there is ever a deep, theological challenge, a main point from the sermon, or basically any question asked in the church, the answer is Jesus. It doesn’t matter what you really think about the issue or question, the answer is Jesus.
Final Rule: We don’t want to offend you.
If anything here or anything said inside the church offends you, feel free to disregard it. We don’t want to offend you.
Of course, I have placed a high level of Sinicism into this thought. I have done this, not to express how I actually feel about the church, but to exaggerate and prove a point. I want us all to understand that the constructs and functions of our churches are not functioning the way they should… and perhaps the trouble we have with our students and congregation giving pat answers to the question, “what is God saying to you” is really a reflection of the “Jesus” bubble we focus all of our attention on creating. And we do such a good job of creating this select, exclusive group that only the qualified few will recognize this Christian bubble as the “Red Letter Bubble”.
Perhaps the red letters of Matthew, Mark, Luke and John are not meant to strengthen the walls of the exclusive, comfortable fellowship of believers, but rather meant to challenge our thoughts, break down our human regulations and heal our paralysis which was brought by self-imposed comfort and complacency. And then, in a very real sense, the red letters which our Savior was dying to say to us might come and bring transforming life renewal.
“For Christ’s love compels us, because we are convinced that one died for all, and therefore all died. And he died for all, that those who live should no longer live for themselves but for him who died for them and was raised again.”
2 Corinthians 5:14-15
What might be possible if this verse became the defining reality of our lives?
15.3.10
The Bitter Sweet Problem
Although I haven't been involved in youth ministry for an extremely long time, there is still one thing that consistently comes up and is becoming to frustrate me more and more. Time and time again when doing a bible study or a talk or anything with some sort of spiritual emphasis, a question will be thrown out there. A question asked to see if the youth are picking up what you are throwing down. The question will often be sound something like this "So, how do you think we can apply what has been talked about in your life?" Maybe it looks like that, maybe the question is phrased a different way, but the person leading the study or doing the talk will say something along those lines to see if the youth are grasping the idea that is being discussed. The person who asks this question seems to almost enjoy punishment, because without a doubt the next few words that come out of the youth's mouths will frustrate and sometimes leave the leader feeling crushed. "Read your Bible", "Pray" and "Go to Church". There you are, the classic Sunday School answers that go right beside "God" and "Jesus". The very words that crush me every time I think I have said something of value. These answers generally come from the students who have been gone to church their entire life and have grown up in a christian house hold. These are the students that have their personal relationship with Christ and you are trying to help them live a life that is fully devoted to Christ.
The frustration comes because these students, who are generally Christian's, are generally the most frustrating to work with. There are ones who don't have a Christian background but they are the ones who are asking the questions but also trying to find the answers. They are not comfortable with where they are in life and are trying to figure it out. On the other hand, there is a usually a group of youth that are comfortable with where they are and don't want to be moved from their state of content, this is the frustrating group. What's frustrating is that they are right and they know it. Reading your Bible, praying and going to church are going to generally help with spiritual things. Everything within me wants to tell them they are wrong because you know full well that they are not getting the point, they are just saying it because it's right. And sometimes it doesn't even matter what the answer is, or whether they have even thought about it, they figure they don't have to think anymore cause they have figured out how to stay content. A question I always find myself wanting to ask these youth when those phrases make their inevitable appearance is "when was the last time you actually read your Bible then" or "when was the last time you actually prayed?" Pray is an answer that is tossed out there for a lot of questions but when it comes to a time when you actually want someone to pray, everyone in the room is pretty quick to not make eye contact and try and look invisible. These are not problems that are in just one specific group, I have been involved in a few groups and have experienced this in all of them.
So how do I help move these students away from their comfortable lives of content? How do you get them to actually live the very applications that they consistently say they should be living. Apparently I enjoy the pain and frustration of it, because this is one of the things that drives me to continue working with them, trying to help transform my life and theirs. It is in fact the bitter sweet problem to have. How do I help bring the Word of God alive to them. Another reason why I care so much about this, is because I used to be one of the youth 6 or so years ago. I used to be content in my faith and not really care to move out of that state. It has only been within the last few years that I really started to understand why we do these things like reading our Bible, praying and going to church. It has only been recently that verses such as Jeremiah 31:33 or Colossians 1:27 (shocking I use those two verses, eh?) have revolutionized my world. So my question: How do I do ministry because off this? On one hand it is great to see youth coming up from the church and being solid in their faith, but on the other hand too often I see the same kids staying content in it.
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