Why Helping Others is So Difficult but Essential

I have a friend who's really struggling to get on his feet right now. He's lived a life that's been riddled with drugs, prison, and chaos. Over the last few months, I and a few other friends have intersected his life and helped him with clothes, money, food, and fellowship. We've discussed scriptures, prayed with him, and still there's this sense of, "When's he going to get it?"

From the outside looking in, it seems like the cycle just continues. He gets going for a couple days, then another crisis hits, then he's back at the bottom looking up. Although he's been sober for over a month, his mind is still crazier than a shit house mouse. We see one crisis after another, and it gets exhausting.

So, what do we do next in these situations? Do we do anything? Do we "let go and let God?" Do we step back and love from a distance?

The answer is all of the above.

Just like any story, our friend's is full of conflict. We are side characters who enter the story and decide if we want to stick with it for the long haul or play a quick - but important - role.

Questions that always come up when helping someone who doesn't seem to be getting it are, "Aren't we enabling this person? Aren't we hurting rather than helping?"

In my experience, whether I'm enabling someone or helping them never has to do with that particular person. It has to do with me. The subliminal question underlying the question of enabling is, "Do I have enough pain tolerance, patience, and stamina to continue?"

And here's the crux of this story.

We don't have the pain tolerance, patience, and stamina to help people - especially when it looks like there's no hope and no end in sight for the person. When choosing to help others, we're choosing to enter into a story that didn't start with us. It didn't start with that person either. It started with a God who was already working, and moving, and pulling, and forming the story that we get invited into.

When questions like, "Am I helping or hurting?" and "Am I enabling this person?" pop up, it usually comes as a result of the emotional battles we've been enduring from helping the person. Our hearts are breaking, we're experiencing turmoil, and we're doubting whether we're doing the right thing or not. While these are good questions to ask, we have to remember that these are accurate reflections of our human desire to do the right thing.

When we are at our breaking point in helping others, we're reminded of who we aren't. We aren't God. In fact, we're not really helping anyone at all. We're stepping into a story that we needed to participate in just as much as the other person.

In the story I'm currently participating in, I've come to the realization that I'm in as much need of God as my friend is. While his struggles look different than mine, we're both in need of mercy. We're both children, trying to find our way, trying to make sense of life's difficulties, and trying to get on our feet. We're hungry. We're thirsty. We're relying on God to get us through another day.

We cannot generalize what enabling is or isn't. We can't generalize what helps and what hurts. The point is, that we're stepping into a story that's been going on way longer than us, and the main character is a God who is constantly loving us, and calling us, and pouring out his mercy on us. If we choose to step out of the story, it's okay. We're human and can only handle so much at one time. If we choose to stay in the story, it's okay too.

The hope is, as we participate in the stories around us, that we come to the realization that we give because we were given to. We love because we were filled with love. We listen because we were listened to. We advocate because we've been advocated for. We show compassion because we've received compassion ourselves.

Most of the time, I'm not the benevolent being that I think I am. I'm merely a messenger and a receiver of a God who wants to restore and renew all things.

Why I Believe God Doesn't Punish Us

Zephaniah 3:1-13

What does a city that's fallen away from God look like? What about a nation? What about a world?

-It's leaders won't take advice
-It's leaders won't accept correction
-It's leaders won't trust God
-It's leaders are like lions on the prowl
-It's judges are like wolves on the hunt for prey
-It's spiritual leaders are out for what they can get
-It's pastors desecrate the Church, using God's laws as weapons to torture the souls of otherwise         hopeful people

It's in this context that the author places today's passage, using the words of Zephaniah to address the audience of Jerusalem. At a time when corruption, evil, and Baal worship is spreading through the city like a disease, the audience is addressed.

Okay, so what happens when a city is like this?

Just like any other god of the times, punishment happens. Anger, fury, devastation, murder, desolation. The gods are angry, and the author wants the audience to know. This is a common theme among the gods. If you do wrong, the gods will punish you. So . . . sacrifice more . . . give more . . . pray more . . . even sacrifice your children . . . do whatever you can do to save yourself from the wrathful gods who are pissed off at you.

But, the author wants the audience to know something different. Throughout the history of Israel, parallel to the thread of stories of angry gods demanding more sacrifices is another story. It's a story that ends in a different kind of punishment - one that can't be grasped by the human concepts of divine punishment. 

In that culture, in that time, in that place, with those people, the punishment from the gods looks like: a city being wiped out by another city (hence, Jerusalem is about to be devastated by the Babylonian Empire), crops being destroyed by drought, disease running rampant throughout cities, floods, natural disasters.

But, the author once again wants the readers to know that this God is different. This God's punishment doesn't result in death, destruction, and ruin. This God's punishment looks like: purification, restoration, undistorted and unpolluted language, a new desire to worship, a new zeal to serve, reunification, a removal of shame and arrogance, and peace.

It's easy to fall in line with the belief that God is angry and wrathful. After all, what about hurricanes, typhoons, government corruption, poverty, and evil? We are so accustomed to seeing black and white punishment, and believing that our actions or inactions are provoking the gods to react (Since Haiti practiced voodoo, the gods sent an earthquake . . . since America is starting to allow gay marriage, the gods are going to create a communist government . . . since I didn't pray today, the gods are gonna make my day miserable . . . ) If we break the law, we get punished.

So, why not project that sort of black and white thinking onto a God whom we don't understand? If our government does so, if our parents do so, if our church leaders do so, if our bosses do so . . . then doesn't God do so as well?

Earthy punishment has it's place, just like worldly leaders and officials have there place. There is meaning and reason there. There is purpose there.

But, above everything, every institution, every courthouse, every corporation, this author is telling us about a God who loves to restore, reunite, worship, serve, and bring peace . . . unconditionally.  Human laws can't define this God, and this God doesn't work under those laws.

This God loves messy, evil, broken, polluted, arrogant, murderous, and corrupt people enough to restore them and redefine them and reunite them. The consequences we face when doing wrong are the consequences laid out by human institutions (something I still haven't grasped, since I keep getting tickets for not stopping behind the stop sign). It's hard to grasp the concept that there is a God who doesn't react and punish in the ways that we're all familiar with.

So what the author is trying to invoke in the middle of the chaos going on in Jerusalem is this: hope. Hope in a God that takes all of our current mess, crime, sin, wrongdoing, and wants to throw it away and create something new with it.

For the people of Jerusalem at this time, hope was in political leaders, prophets, and priests. But, this hope runs out. They can only massage our spirits for so long before they start wearing their human fallacies on their sleeves.

Who do we run to, hope in, believe in, put our faith in?

The God of restoration, peace, and love who punishes with restoration, peace, and love.









 

God's on our side, but not theirs.

Nahum 1:1-13

Imagine this:

After the terrorist attack on the U.S. twin towers, the most well-known pastor in America gets on international television and says this:

"The Lord is a jealous God, filled with vengeance and wrath. He takes revenge on all who oppose him and furiously destroys his enemies! The Lord is slow to get angry, but his power is great, and he never lets the guilty go unpunished. He displays his power in the whirlwind and the storm. The billowing clouds are the dust beneath his feet. At his command the oceans and rivers dry up, the lush pastures of Korangai Valley fade, and the green forests of Badakhshan wilt. In his presence the mountains quake, and the hills melt away; the earth trembles, and its people are destroyed. Who can stand before his fierce anger? Who can survive his burning fury? His rage blazes forth like bombs, and the mountains crumble to dust in his presence.

The Lord is good. When trouble comes, he is a strong refuge. And he knows everyone who trusts in him. But he sweeps away his enemies in an overwhelming flood. He pursues his foes into the darkness of the night.

Why are you scheming against the Lord? He will destroy you with one blow; he won't need to strike twice! His enemies, tangled up like thorns, staggering like drunks, will be burned like dry straw in a field. Who is this leader of yours who dares to plot evil against the Lord?

This is what the Lord says: 'Even though al-Qaeda has many allies, they will be destroyed and disappear. O my people, I have already punished you once, and I will not do it again. Now I will break your chains and release you from al-Qaeda oppression.'

And this is what the Lord says concerning al-Qaeda in Afghanistan: 'You will have no more children to carry on your name. I will destroy all the idols in the temples of your gods. I am preparing a grave for you because your are despicable and don't deserve to live!'

As you watched the breaking news on CNN, what emotions would well up within you? Would you feel like a sense of relief? Would you feel like God had your country's back? Would you feel that after the horror that your country had been through, God would avenge the atrocities? Would you feel like God took the form of soldiers and tanks and guns and bombs to seek retribution?

This is the context we find today's passage in. Assyria has invaded Israel, is oppressing Israel, and the capital city has been destroyed. Israel's back is against the wall, and hope is fleeting fast. It is believed that God has chosen Israel as his holy, set apart people, but where is he? Where has he run off to? 

The country needs a spokesperson - someone who can put into words what no one else can. Someone who can well up the emotions of the people, someone who can speak about God in a way that speaks into their situation. 

The thought of a wrathful, avenging, and fearful God works perfectly when you're country has just been attacked. The thought that the oppressed side has done no wrong ever, but that the Assyrians have done all the wrong in the world is what the speaker wants the audience to hear. 

Who wouldn't listen to this, and feel like some sort of revenge was happening? Who wouldn't want a God who would fight, and throw fire, and kill off family lines of the enemy after your people have endured years of oppression and exile?

 

Plowshares

Joel 3:1-2, 9-17

I have a friend who recently decided to send out a manifesto through Facebook. It was his time to show the world how it wronged him. It was his time to show all those who had turned his back on him and doubted him that he'd finally arrived. He'd finally made it in the face of opposition.

When he was talking to me about this, it reminded me of a manifesto I sent out once to three hundred people. I had to let them know how they were doing it all wrong. I had to light a fire. I had to show the world that my problems were not of my own making, but all theirs. It was my time to shine, to avenge, to plow my plowshare into a spear and stick it where it hurt.

As I listened to my friend (and refrained from telling him about the train wreck that I was watching), I couldn't help but laugh inside as it took me back to that place.

There are these moments in life where we look back, and all we can see is that the world has wronged us, and we think, "They're gonna get what's coming to them. Just wait and see."

And, we wait. And wait. And wait. And nothing happens except that the anger and vengeance that remains inside us grows and grows. And one day, it finally explodes into this five page email telling the everyone we know about how they've wronged us and that we're right and they're wrong, and the world would be a better place if they just kind of disappeared.

It's our chance to finally catch a break, where all our bullies - fantasized and real - will finally get their final judgment.

And this is where we find the passage today.

[On a side note: when we read the scriptures, we're reading into the author's conception of how things are, and how they view God.]

The author is writing about a prophet named Joel. Joel is announcing to the world - the Israelites - that soon it's gonna be time to "beat plowshares into spears and pruning hooks into swords. No matter how old our children are, they're eligible to fight." This battle is ours to be won, and God's ready for us to bow up and fight. It's the only way we'll be able to avenge the ways we've been treated.

It's no wonder that when Christ came on to the scene, the Jews were like, "Okay, when are we gonna fight, Jesus? Where's the swords? Where's the spears? Hello? Did you hear what Joel said about how our enemies will be judged? Grow some spine!"

There's this thing inside me that's dying to play the "victim card" every chance it gets. There's this inner score sheet that's keeping score of who wronged me, how many times, and I imagine that the people with the most tallies will at least get a foreclosure or get fired from their job or something. Karma, right?

Then there's those times when I've played the victim so hard and so long, that I'll pray for God to "take care of those people. Teach them a lesson okay God? As you know, I've been flawless these last few years, but them . . . rough em' up a little bit. Amen."

The Israelites were looking for a God who would be their superhero, flying into battle, turning over temples, and destroying evil governments. What they got was a ridiculous, laughable, donkey-riding . . . Jesus?

I can hear them now, standing around the wineskin, "I didn't sign up for this. Did you?"

When we talk about judgment, we're talking about the human perception of God's judgment. Joel ascribes the characteristics of his own experiences, own perceptions, and own history onto the unknowable, unseeable, and unfathomable God of Israel.

Yet, when we read through the Gospels, we find something totally different. We find a God who says things like "forgive your enemies . . . bless those who persecute you . . . give your enemy food and water."

We find a God who takes all that pent up resentment of the Israelites waiting on a holy war, and puts it on himself so that everyone (including bullies and victims) is washed clean from their poopie diapers.

I hope today is a day that I don't play the victim card and wish God's terror on the people who irritate me, make fun of me, use me, annoy me, and look down on me.

Maybe today I can see the face of Jesus, the hands, the feet, the cross, residing between me and every person I interact with today. Maybe then, I won't play the victim card.

Highway

Isaiah 19:19-25

The Assyrians are fighting the Egyptians. The Egyptians are fighting the Israelites. The Israelites are fighting the Assyrians.

Nation against nation. Child soldiers. Power struggle. Holy war. God against god. Who's got the biggest, strongest, most powerful god? My god's stronger than your god! Weeping in the city. Labor and toil. No fruit for the labor. Growing crops, but the crops get taken away. Building houses, but the houses get taken away. Babies dying. Elderly insignificant.

Power. Struggle. Fighting. War. Who's got the biggest tanks, bombs, guns, military, god?

It's in this context that Isaiah enters the story with a message about a god who's not interested in grappling for power against other gods. A god who's not interested in making one country stronger than another. A god who doesn't care about other gods. A god who offers an alternative route - a highway - a connection, a freeway between nations that are constantly at war with one another.

This god doesn't feel threatened by taunts like my god is bigger!

This god is planning on providing a connecting highway. Reconciliation. Peace. Access.

Have you ever felt like there was an impossible roadblock between you and someone else. Was there resentment? Was there a history of fighting, of grappling for power, of unresolved conflict?

Then, after weeks, or months, or years of silent scorn and resentment, a freeway was finally opened up between the two of you? There was once again free access to each other? You could talk, go to Starbucks, share stories, and laugh together again at last?

The author of Isaiah wants the readers to know that war only lasts so long. The struggle for power only lasts so long. Trying to prove that one god is bigger than another god only lasts so long. There comes a time when a highway becomes paramount to all. The fighting becomes futile. The power struggle becomes meaningless.

There is a God who sees the big picture. This God creates highways, access, reconciliation, and peace between people and nations that have only known each other through the scopes of missile launchers.

This God creates highways, removes roadblocks, provides free access.

The author is pointing a warring people forward to a point in time where God intersects with mankind in the city of Bethlehem, in the middle of tension, fighting, and war.

The author is pointing the people forward to a time in which God will be the highway, and the signs on this highway that will connect the people at odds will say things like "You're sins are forgiven. I am the way, the truth, and the life. Come to me all who are weary, and I will give you rest. Turn the other cheek and bless those who persecute you."

The author is pointing people forward with hope to a God who reconciles all people with himself. A God who loves people too much to keep distant. A God who is willing to sacrifice himself for the sake of humanity's salvation. A God who says there's a bigger picture than the fighting, scheming, shooting, and grappling you're seeing right now. This is all futile. I've come that you may know life to the point that death has no sting - that you may be on the highway that leads to life, one very different from the death-inviting highway you're on now.

Scholars

I recently heard the term, "scholar", the way I used to hear it.  When the speaker is at his wits end, the speaker makes reference to these sages.  The speaker, in dramatic fashion, gives off the air that he has only seen a glimpse, only a taste of the work produced by these sages.  The taste is so pure and the work so profound that the speaker can only gush over the magnitude of what it is. The truths are indeed true.  The sages have indeed held their ground.   The speaker stands wide eyed and proclaims that the long-held truth has been verified, complete and utterly worked out to the nth degree by these other-worldly wizards.

Hope

Isaiah 65:17-25

Imagine this:

Your nation is constantly under attack by imposing forces. Trouble, chaos, and pain are everyday experiences. The sound of weeping in your neighborhood or family is a normal experience. Every morning you leave your house to walk into chaos. The world you know is full of pain and turmoil. A silent cry of anguish fills your soul, and you try your best to keep a smile. You have friends and family members who had babies, but they never made it to the age of one. Your grandparents and the elderly people that you know are shut in, silent, and miserable. People who live to see one hundred are featured on news channels as miracles. You know people who've dreamed of building their own houses, only to find that they were taken away by a government that demanded more taxes than you could afford. You have friends who dreamed of growing their own food, only to find that once they did, some government institution somewhere found out about it and confiscated their seeds and crops and tools. Imagine working, only to see that you can barely make it because most of your income goes to some outside entity. You've heard stories of people's children being kidnapped and forced into sex slavery.

Now, take a step back, and think outside of your family, your neighborhood, your city, your state, your country, and your continent. Think about your world.

Does this sound more like an imagination or a reality?

It's in this context that the writer of Isaiah says, "But . . . Let me tell you about the God I know."

      "Pay close attention now: I'm creating new heavens and a new earth. All the earlier troubles, chaos, and pain are things of the past, to be forgotten. [18] Look ahead with joy. Anticipate what I'm creating: I'll create Jerusalem as sheer joy, create my people as pure delight. [19] I'll take joy in Jerusalem, take delight in my people: No more sounds of weeping in the city, no cries of anguish; [20] No more babies dying in the cradle, or old people who don't enjoy a full lifetime; One-hundredth birthdays will be considered normal-- anything less will seem like a cheat. [21] They'll build houses and move in. They'll plant fields and eat what they grow. [22] No more building a house that some outsider takes over, No more planting fields that some enemy confiscates, For my people will be as long-lived as trees, my chosen ones will have satisfaction in their work. [23] They won't work and have nothing come of it, they won't have children snatched out from under them. For they themselves are plantings blessed by GOD, with their children and grandchildren likewise GOD-blessed. Wolf and lamb will graze the same meadow, lion and ox eat straw from the same trough, but snakes--they'll get a diet of dirt! Neither animal nor human will hurt or kill anywhere on my Holy Mountain," says GOD. 

   Into the context of where we are, the author is saying there is a God who wants to bless and restore - to bring peace, joy, and happiness. The author is invoking hope in the middle of chaos.

The author is writing about a god who is unlike other gods. While other gods demand war and sacrifice, this god is offering peace and blessing. This god doesn't take on the role of an invading force, but takes on the role of a peacemaker right in the midst of suffering, chaos, and pain.

We have something to look forward to, just like the audience who heard these words did. Our houses may be taken, crops swept away, and paychecks drained, but there is something to look forward to.

Materials

1 Chronicles 22:1-19

The writer of Chronicles writes about a temple that King David wants to build. David says that this temple will be the most famous temple in the world, one that everyone will notice and hear about. This temple will be an intersection between God and man, something unheard of in the world at this time.

Temples are normal. Building temples is normal. But, building a temple that intersects God and man is a breakthrough concept to the people of this time. But, it goes deeper than this.

In the narrative, David says that his God told him, "Because you have shed so much blood before me, you will not be the one to build this temple. Your son will be the one. And I will bring him peace with his surrounding enemies, and I will establish my throne through him for eternity."

Throughout the passage the writer talks about what the temple will be built out of - stones, iron, bronze, and cedar.

Or, the materials David used throughout his lifetime to conquer lands and people. Fight, conquer, clear the land, and establish the throne.

What is the author trying to convey to the audience at this time?

This God is different. This God wants to take the materials that are being used to conquer, kill, and destroy, and use them to build a temple that intersects humanity with the divine. This God wants to take the materials that were once used for war, and use them to bring peace.

So, how does this apply to us?

In order to answer this, I have to tell you a story about New Years Eve.

I'm a recovered alcoholic. Last New Years, my girlfriend held a party at her house, and all our friends showed up - normal drinkers I might add. There was a blender for margaritas, there was a cooler full of beer, and there was a sense of community.

This was the first time in my sobriety that I would be the one serving the drinks.

So, from the get go, I chose to be a good bartender. I went around asking people if they needed a drink, blended margaritas, poured liquor, grabbed beers, and served our friends.

What was once the source of death and misery for me, was not being used as a source of life and fellowship. The materials that once led to jail trips and broken relationships now led to bringing other people joy.

The author is telling us about a god who doesn't want iron, bronze, cedar, and stone to be used to fight and conquer. That's what all the other gods are for. This god is different.

This god wants to use the things that everybody else uses to bring destruction, to bring life and peace to the world.

And that begs the question: How are we doing with our materials? Our weapons? Our words? Our skills and trades? Are we using them to build sacred places where humanity can intersect the divine? Or, are we just following in line with the way the rest of the world builds its temples, fights its wars, conquers its lands, and follows its gods?

Today's Action: Make a list of all our materials - houses, cars, computers, clothes, money, time, beds, blankets, passions, skills, etc. With each material, ask, "Am I using this to create an intersection between man and God?"

When Prayer Isn't Awkward

 So, one night I was standing in a church at this conference, and the lady next to me smelled cigarette smoke. It was on my clothes because I had just smoked.

The lady decided that since she smelled the smell on my clothes, she'd pray a prayer of deliverance for me. Her prayer went something like this as she laid her hands on me: "God, we ask in the name of Jesus that you deliver [what's your name again?] . . . Jon from this bondage that he's in. In the name of Jesus, we speak it into existence that cigarettes no longer be a part of his life."

After she finished, I felt awkward. I felt like I was supposed to be feeling something, but wasn't getting the right vibe. I thought it was a nice gesture, and I didn't want her to feel like she'd just wasted her time, but the truth was I wasn't picking up what she put down.

And that brings me to a point about prayer.

I've experienced several types of prayer in my life, and I'd like to briefly categorize a couple of them:

The hit and run prayer: This is the one where I'll be sitting at a coffee shop somewhere, and a stranger walks up awkwardly and decides that I need to be prayed for. After it's done, they leave, I'm weirded out, and we never see each other again.

The "I told you so" prayer: This is where the person praying makes it clear to the person being prayed for that they're obviously wrong or living in a way that doesn't agree with the one praying.

Lets face it, there are times when the timing is just a little off, or just a little misguided, or just a little weird. But, there's also times when prayer is effective, meaningful, and powerful.

And that's what happened to me last night.

As I was standing in a garage with three friends, it's become a common theme for us to pray for each other before we go home for the night. One of the guys who prayed for me mentioned in his prayer that a word came to the forefront of his mind. Simplicity.

As soon as he said that a word came to his mind, I was pretty sure it was going to get weird. But, as I listened on, I realized that this friend - who I hadn't talked to or seen for at least six months - was praying about the exact thing that I blogged about a couple days back.

When we finished, I asked my friend, "You read my blog right?" He said no, and I was like, "That's funny. That's exactly what I wrote about last night. I've been complicating everything about the Bible, trying to get smart. And, in the meantime, that childish wonder I had for so long just kind of disappeared. That's weird."

I learned two things last night:

1. Prophecy is not telling someone that their house is going to burn down in three weeks, and it's not about knowing when it's time to start storing up canned food and gas masks. It's about being a good listener, and paying attention to the stories beneath the stories. It's about noticing when people are crying for help below the surface, and then encouraging them and building them up - using words to breathe life and energy into someone who really needs it. 

2. If my friend could pick that up from our conversation, then I can pick stuff like that up from the many conversations that I have throughout the day. I can listen for the stories beneath the stories - the subplots. There are hints, prompts, and cues that we give each other every day, letting other people know that we need hope and encouragement in specific areas. If we can pick up on these, we can breathe life and energy into areas in peoples' lives that need it.

Today's Action: Listen for the stories beneath the stories that the people around us share today. It's possible that an encouraging prayer is exactly what they need at that moment in time.

Search

1 Chronicles 16:7-36

My friend Mike was living in a tent under the bridge two weeks ago.

For the last sixteen years, he's been in and out of prison. He's been a drug dealer. He's been a lunatic. He's been addicted to crystal meth. He's been married and divorced. He's seen his kids get taken away. He's seen his parents abandon him, left to the foster system.

He's lost it all.

I met Mike through another friend of mine, who came across him one day and noticed that he was in need. We started hanging out in his garage, talking, praying, listening, strategizing, emailing, and praying more.

We asked Mike, "What do you want?"

He replied, "A good woman, a roof over my head, and a job."

Mike woke up one morning in the tent to the sound of the police. He was trespassing, so the officers put him in their car and took him to the streets of Houston. "You can't stay here," they told him.

He sat on a curb after they dropped him off and cried. He was done. He lost all hope.

And then, the good woman showed up. She had a car, which turned out to be a shelter.

As my friend and I spent time with Mike in the garage, and paid attention to what he was saying, we started hearing a new story. Mike started praying with us and for us. Mike started talking about God and the scriptures he was reading.

Then, another friend showed up on the scene. He has a house, which has an extra room, which Mike is moving into today. This other friend also has a business, which has an extra position open, which Mike was hired for.

In one month, Mike has seen sixteen years of chaos, drugs, prison, and homelessness come to a screeching halt. He's stepped into a new story, drawn by the simple prayers and conversations about the Bible in a garage.

With the help of friends, Mike started pressing into the things he wanted, but he didn't want the same things anymore. It was time to grow up and become human again.

Mike's world is being rocked by a God who cares too much about us to let us continue suffering.

I'm once again floored at the way someone can have such a dramatic change in their life, in such a short time. Who could be the cause of it other than a God who cares about the details, who loves us even when we're unlovable, who's there in the crack house and the church house? Who's calling, and drawing, and listening, and moving, and creating, and shaping, and delivering? The Lord our God.

Today's Action: "Think of the wonderful works He has done," and do one thing to help Mike get the glasses he needs.

How I Tried To Get Biblically Intelligent and Went Insane in the Process

I'm reading a book I recently purchased from the bookstore. It's about two best friends who leave everything that's dear to them, and head to Mexico on horseback. It's set in the early 1900's in the Texas Valley, and John Grady - the son of the ranch owner who's just died - is determined that if he can't stay on the ranch, he's gonna go find some horses to break in Mexico. His best friend Rawlins is all in, and their adventure begins.

The other book I've been reading forever - the Bible - is full of adventure as well. It's full of people leaving everything to embark on a new journey. It's full of passion, risk, danger, and romance.

As I read the forementioned book, I'm not bugged with the constant questions of, "Is it true? What was the author trying to say? What was going on in the world at the time? What did that sentence mean to the audience (which is me and whoever else has ever read the book)?"

Yet, every once in awhile there's this tendency when reading the Bible, to stop reading it as I would a great novel. There's this voice inside of me that says, "Jon, you've been doing real good. You need to step it up though and get intelligent."

So, for the last few weeks this voice has been getting louder and louder. I started getting "smart." I started doing research, and reading commentaries, and using Bible dictionaries, and reading Greek and Hebrew, and using thesauruses, and the list goes on and on and on.

It came to a head this weekend.

I sat in my recliner for about fifteen hours straight, trying to find the perfect, most flawless method of studying the Bible. I Googled, and typed, and took notes, and watched slideshows, and read excerpts, and wrote down questions to ask myself, and learned about inductive Bible study, and learned that the only way to really know what the author is trying to say is to interview him or her.

I was insanely trying to find perfect formula that I could plug a scripture into and come out with a workable application - a principle by which to live by.

I was getting pissed - at the Bible, at the authors, at all those Bible school professors who said there was only one way to study scripture, at myself for going down the rabbit hole one more time.

The more intelligent I got, the less inspired I became. Hmmm.

Good, formulaic, systematic study works great for people who are willing to put in the hours, days, and months to find the answers they're looking for. But, here's the problem.

No matter how much effort, time, and energy I put into finding exactly what the author meant - what the motives were, what he/she was trying to teach the audience - it's impossible to know what the author's motives were, especially when it was around 30 A.D.

I'm not the kind of person who finds life in putting hours of study into coming close.

I need to dumb myself down again. I need to read it like I'm reading All the Pretty Horses - inspired, excited, and wondering what's gonna happen next.

And, another point that I lost sight of the last few months:

The Bible has to be accessible to everyone, even when they pick it up for their first time. Their are scholars and teachers out there who say that there's only one way, one method, and one interpretation of the scriptures. The problem is - that way, that method, and that interpretation require the skills of a forensics expert. And, most of us just aren't wired like that.

If the Bible is accessible to all, then there has to be freedom to read it like we would an awesome novel.

The quest for knowledge and intelligence can easily substitute the childlike wonder that comes with sitting on a porch and reading as if it were the first time. When I read it like a child, I talk about it as if I don't know anything. And usually, it's those conversations that light my mind on fire and inspire the minds around me. It's the wonder, not the intelligence, that captivates me to talk about what the Bible says.

Hopefully, by the morning, I'm dumb again.

Robes

Acts 1:10 - They stood there, staring into the empty sky. Suddenly two men appeared--in white robes!

This last month, I've been stressed out about some stuff that went down between me and some friends. I've been walking on tiptoes, afraid to talk, afraid to confront, and afraid to be present. I felt like I'd been lied to, but even more, the resentment I've held in my heart has been eating me up. I hadn't been able to see an end in sight until Sunday. I've been working through my emotions, how the situation has affected me, and how I've reacted in pretty childish ways. I was hopeless in this situation.

So, what does that have to do with the verse?

Luke writes about an empty sky and two men in white robes. The sky is empty and the robes are white.

This brings to mind a contrasting difference from the book he'd previously written about Jesus.
When Luke describes the sky at the point of Jesus' death, he writes:
 . . . And it was now about the sixth hour, and darkness fell over the whole land . . . the sun being obscured. . . 
and John wrote about a robe . . .

The soldiers, having braided a crown from thorns, set it on his head, threw a scarlet robe over him

Luke is trying to let the audience know that something big is happening here.
The sky was black and the robe was scarlet, but now the sky is empty and the robes are white.

For the audience, this contrast would have brought to mind the scriptures in the Torah they'd have memorized:

I will sing for joy in GOD, explode in praise from deep in my soul! He dressed me up in a suit of salvation, he outfitted me in a robe of righteousness, As a bridegroom who puts on a tuxedo and a bride a jeweled tiara.

Soak me in your laundry and I'll come out clean, scrub me and I'll have a snow-white life. 

"If your sins are blood-red, they'll be snow-white. If they're red like crimson, they'll be like wool."

Luke is letting the audience know that death is not the final answer - that pain and suffering are not the bookend. What was one red like blood is now white as snow. The sky that was once black as night is now bright and light.

Which means . . . no matter how much pain and suffering we are experiencing now - it's not the final mark of who we are.

Yes, we may be hopeless right now. The troubles may be huge right now. Our hearts may be in shambles right now. Our guilt may be deep right now. Our sorrow may seem infinite right now, but . . . we will wear white and the skies will turn bright. 

Our dirty laundry will be scrubbed clean and our distorted minds will be redeemed. We have hope!

 
 

Hobbit Church

It'd be fun to have a church with hobbitlian architecture.

I want my round bible.

The first study will be over all books: chapter 3 verse 14.

What a merry time we would have.

Cloud

Acts 1:9 - These were his last words. As they watched, he was taken up and disappeared in a cloud.

What is Luke, the author of Acts, trying to convey here?

Does the language of God, clouds, and disappearing acts make sense to the audience he's writing to?

For the audience, a light bulb would have gone off when they read these statements from Luke. As good students of the Torah, they would have been very familiar with the language of God dwelling in clouds and even disappearing, seemingly forever. 

GOD went ahead of them in a Pillar of Cloud during the day to guide them on the way . . .

The people kept their distance while Moses approached the thick cloud where God was.

It was now the morning watch. GOD looked down from the Pillar of Fire and Cloud on the Egyptian army and threw them into a panic.

. . . whenever Moses entered the Tent, the Pillar of Cloud descended to the entrance to the Tent and GOD spoke with Moses.

Then Solomon said, GOD said he would dwell in a cloud . . . 

It's almost as if the author is trying to convince the audience one last time that this man Jesus, the one taken to a Roman cross, the one persecuted by the Jewish religious leaders, the one who couldn't possibly have any connection to the God of their understanding - in fact shared the same dwelling places of the God they'd grown up to believe in. 

Have you ever been in a situation where two seemingly unconnected things were all of a sudden connected in a way that blew your mind? 

There's another point to this story.

According to the narratives of the Old Testament, there was a time when the God of Israel stopped talking. God went away. From dwelling in a cloud by day, leading the Israelites, to completely shutting off for hundreds of years. The Israelites thought it was over, done with. God had left the building. 

And now, it seems that the same thing's happening again. But, there's one striking difference. 

For the Israelites in the Torah, they'd never seen God. They saw a cloud. They saw fire. They saw glimpses of the divine. For the Israelites, the departure of God left them without direction.

Luke here is writing that this time it's different. This time God's leaving something behind. Not only is Luke connecting the God of the old covenant with this man Jesus who's ushered in a completely new concept to the world he's been a part of, but he's leaving something behind . . . a light, a marker, a guide, a spirit.

For the audience, this would have been a mind-blowing concept, that Jesus would leave in a cloud. The only God they knew up to this point dwelled in clouds and couldn't be seen.

I can see the people reading this for the first time, looking back and remembering the times they'd watched Jesus, listened to his words, criticized him, applauded him, and watched in amazement. As they read these words, it came full circle. The One whom they'd believed in for so long, who lived in clouds, who spoke from a distance, had been right in front of their eyes. 

May we recognize today that God is not at a distance, but with us, guiding us, compelling us to take part in an amazing plan of restoration.

Spirit

Acts 1:8 - What you'll get is the Holy Spirit. And when the Holy Spirit comes on you, you will be able to be my witnesses in Jerusalem, all over Judea and Samaria, even to the ends of the world."

We've all talked about highs and lows. We've gone down to the "valleys of death" and risen again to experience a fresh start, a new lease on life. Maybe we're in the valley right now. Maybe we're climbing out. Maybe we're floating on a pink cloud, thinking life just couldn't be any better than it is right now. "If only we could stay like this," we think to ourselves.

I've had my share of ups and downs. Sometimes, they mesh together. One area of life that once was a constant struggle now seems a success, but another area of life seems to be going downhill fast. 

I remember the first feelings I experienced after I took my last drink of alcohol. The feelings themselves were a brand new concept. After years of flushing them down, I finally experienced sadness, pain, happiness, and peace. I didn't know what to do with them, but I felt them nonetheless which was a bonus in itself.

Throughout the scriptures, there is this concept of a Holy Spirit, or Spirit. It's referred to in many different ways:

Earth was a soup of nothingness, a bottomless emptiness, an inky blackness. God's Spirit brooded like a bird above the watery abyss.

The body is put back in the same ground it came from. The spirit returns to God, who first breathed it.

. . . the Spirit that brings wisdom and understanding, The Spirit that gives direction and builds strength, the Spirit that instills knowledge . . .

Yes, weep and grieve until the Spirit is poured down on us from above And the badlands desert grows crops and the fertile fields become forests.

And that's just the beginning: After that-- "I will pour out my Spirit on every kind of people: Your sons will prophesy, also your daughters. Your old men will dream, your young men will see visions.

  

"I live in the high and holy places, but also with the low-spirited, the spirit--crushed, And what I do is put new spirit in them, get them up and on their feet again."

Time and time again, the authors of the scriptures described this phenomenon of Spirit pouring and filling and refreshing and giving and instilling.

Even Isaiah the prophet told the Israelites to weep and grieve until the Spirit poured down to break the deadly drought they were in.

What the Spirit meant to the authors was this gift that rained down from the heavens, this energizing, refreshing gift from the gods that seemed to refresh and create new life in people. And then, Jesus entered the scene.

He tells the disciples that soon the spirit would come on them, that they'd be able to do things they'd never imagined. They would be awakened to things they'd been asleep to for a very long time. They'd have new breath inside them.

But, this was just the beginning. The concept of Spirit changed from the way it was used in the Old Testament. You almost had to catch it. You almost had to be in the right place at the right time, and somehow the stars would align, and you would start saying things that made everybody think you were a loon. 

Even in the days of Joel, thousands of years before, it was forecasted that God would "pour out His spirit on all people." And so, it's happening. What was originally reserved for the special, chosen ones of God, was now meant for everyone. Everyone got a piece of the pie now. 

And that brings us back to highs and lows. To capture that awakening sense of relief and refreshment after experiencing a day, a month, a year, or multiple years of turmoil is to capture the Spirit of God at work.

What's been poured out on us, or instilled in us, or given to us, or rained on us, is this piece of God, this spirit, this breath, that is constantly breathing new life and new hope. When we awaken to it, and pay attention to it, it gives us the ability to do things we'd never thought possible. Some of those things are simply tapping back into the things that once brought us life and energy. Some of those things are really hard, and we never thought we'd have the courage or the stamina to live them out. 

But, one things for sure. This piece of God called the Spirit gives us something that we couldn't get on our own. That courage, or that joy, or that stamina to sit through that conversation, or that overwhelming sensation of freedom that overcame you at the Mumford and Sons concert. When we start paying attention to that, and trying to capture that, we find energy we didn't think we had and abundance that we formerly thought was nonexistent.

Clock

Acts 1:7 - He told them, "You don't get to know the time. Timing is the Father's business."

I was talking to a friend last night as he talked about the "state of the nation." He said that America needed a spiritual awakening, and that because of the current government we may see in our lifetime a civil war - a rise in the Conservative party to take back the values of our country. 

I've overheard many conversations like this, and they all had this undertone of a two-sided, good verses evil, "God's taking back the country" sort of philosophy.

This isn't a new idea. In fact, this idea has been mainstream for thousands of years, going all the way back to Israel. 

A guy named Daniel once said, "The man dressed in linen, who straddled the river, raised both hands to the skies. I heard him solemnly swear by the Eternal One that it would be a time, two times, and half a time, that when the oppressor of the holy people was brought down the story would be complete."

Thousands of years after Daniel, another guy named Jesus arrived on the scene. He was dressed in linen, and it was written that he appeared at a river - the River Jordan to be exact. This river had tons of historical significance to anyone who paid any attention to the Torah. 

For the people who watched the man Jesus and paid attention to his life, they saw the person whom Daniel was talking about in the scriptures. In their minds, Jesus was the one who was going to bring "the oppressor of the holy people down." 

But, Jesus had something different in mind. He spoke a language that referred back to the prophet Isaiah. Isaiah once said, "Yes, he'll banish death forever. And GOD will wipe the tears from every face. He'll remove every sign of disgrace From his people, wherever they are. Yes! GOD says so!"

For the Jews, Jesus was their own self-fulfilling prophecy - the One who would bring them to power after all their hard work and sacrifice. Finally, after years of not getting their way, they would become the next Rome. They would get to run the show.

This same narrative seems to be underlying the message that my friend shared with me last night. "God wants to overtake them, so we can reclaim our rightful position of power."

For the Jews, time took on a very different connotation than what Jesus had in mind. Time for the Jews meant the ticking clock moving forward to a point of reclaimed power. For Jesus, time was made of a string of moments all leading forward to a point of redemption for all of creation. 

There is often this belief among Christians that God is going to use political means to reclaim something that was originally theirs.

For the apostles whom Jesus was talking to in this instance, there was a concept that needed to be smashed. It had to do with this idea that time was leading to this reclamation of power. Jesus was trying to tell them that the power had already won out, and it looked much different than the power of political force. It was a power that banished death, and redeemed people from the inside out. It was a power that brought hope, and life, and energy, and not another us vs. them power struggle. 

God's redemption is not about a politcal party overtaking another political party. Time isn't about a means to a reclamation of power. It isn't about one day restoring a country back to the origins of its founding fathers. 

God's timing is about unleashing the power of redemption throughout the world and its people. It's about restoring things back to the way God intended them to be, and not the way "founding fathers" intended them to be. 

Pipes

Acts 1:3 - After his death, he presented himself alive to them in many different settings over a period of forty days. In face-to-face meetings, he talked to them about things concerning the kingdom of God. 

I have to admit that talking about someone dying, coming to life again, then appearing and talking to their loved ones is a very big pill to swallow. As I sat on the back porch thinking about what could even come close to this event recorded in the scriptures, I thought about one of my friends I used to work with.

She was a severe meth-addict. She didn't realize how deep she was in the stuff until several hospital trips helped her hit a bottom that was seemingly non-existent. My heart went out to her as she struggled day in and day out. I would pick her up for work in the mornings, only to find that she was still strung out from the day before. So, I'd go bang on her apartment door, yelling at her that it was time to go to work. While opening the restaurant, she'd turn up System of a Down to the point it made our ears bleed.

Her arms and legs were sprinkled with red sores from the lack of nutrients, and I literally thought I was going to see my friend die one day, right before my eyes. I had to give up on her. I couldn't bear the weight of her addiction, as I could barely stand the weight of my own. She was insane in the way that only an addict could understand, and her agnosticism told her that she would eventually get herself out of the mess.

When she lost her job at the restaurant, things went downhill fast. She moved away to go on her last binge, staring death in the face through overdoses and hospital trips. Before she left, she gave me a gift one morning. She'd promised me that she was done with meth. I'd heard and said that one before, but nevertheless, she handed me a cylinder glass container. It still sits on my dresser at home.

Inside the jar contained all the meth pipes she owned - crushed and covered in wax. While it was a good gesture, and it meant alot, I knew that she wasn't ready to quit.

It wasn't until several months later that I ran into her at the club I attended meetings at. She - who was once a sore-ridden, scrawny, rail of a girl - had put on some weight and was walking out of a CMA meeting! She'd gotten a sponsor and was working the steps. I couldn't believe I was seeing the same person.

She's now been sober for 18 months, and she has a child on the way. She's starting a family, and she believes in God. She's been raised from the dead, and I talk to her every so often about life.

I'm convinced that as of right now, the only "proof" I have of a crucified Christ is seeing the sores on the meth-addicts arms and legs. The only "proof" I have of a resurrected Christ is seeing the once hopeless alcoholic find a way of life that puts God in control and not self. So often, I spend so much time trying to wrap my mind around the unfathomable, while missing the significant stories of death and resurrection happening all around me.

While I can't prove that Jesus appeared after death to his apostles, I can hold the steady hand of an alcoholic who once suffered DTs. I can look into the eyes of a recovered meth addict and, where once only darkness resided, see new life. It's a hard thing to come by trying to prove matters that only faith can handle, but to touch, see, and hear new life in the form of once hopeless human beings is something I can accept as true.

God, we ask you to heighten our senses today so that we can take part in the resurrection happening around us.

Theophilus

 When Luke addresses Theophilus in the introduction to the book of Acts, he uses the term "O," as in "O, Theophilus." It was common in those days (1st century Jerusalem) to use this term to signify a bond between two people. But, the very name implies something much deeper.

In Luke's first narrative on the account of Jesus, the book is written to Theophilus as well. He is addressed, "Most excellent Theophilus." This was a proper address to a high ranking official.

So, why would Luke use such a common address in his second letter to this mysterious man?

The reason is, it implies a change. Somewhere between the address in Luke and the address in Acts, Theophilus changed. A change in address implied a change in status.

We could say that somewhere along the way, Theophilus not only became convinced of Luke's testimony of Jesus, but that Theophilus was moved to do something about it. But, he didn't exactly know how to go about this "doing." So, Luke wrote the book of Acts.

Luke's testimony was so convincing to Theophilus that he dropped his "excellent" status and joined the ranks of the commoner.

Almost two milleniums later, I wonder what it would have been like to be so convinced of this man Jesus. Removed from the scriptures, I have no testimony. I can listen to sermons, watch people who claim they believe, but when it comes to the inner response that Theophilus must have experienced, it's hard to come by. I don't know of anyone who's encountered on a tangible basis the resurrected Jesus, besides the narrators and characters in the gospel accounts.

I'm on a search for truth. I want to tap into the power that must have been running through the veins of Theophilus as he waited on instruction from Luke. I'm tired of trying to manufacture what can't be created by my power. I'm tired of jumping on the latest religious bandwagons in an effort to recapture what must have been the most exciting time for the Church, recorded in the book of Acts.

I simply want to be so convinced in the account of Jesus, that I'm moved by a power that I can't create. Theophilus and Luke didn't create or manufacture what they were experiencing. They were receivers of it. They were merely responding to what they were seeing and hearing, experiencing tangibly.

It seems like the more we move away from those early times, the less we have to work with. The less proof we have of that resurrected Christ; the less desperation we have to follow what was taught those early disciples; the less motivation we have to give all to the movement of the Christ. The power of the gospel, at best, compels us to gather once a week and if we're not too busy, twice. It compels us to sing, teach, take notes, and hope we do a better job this week before we enter the building next.

Who can blame us though? Our experience with Jesus, and God for that matter, is nowhere close to what it was like for both Theophilus and Luke. If the scriptures are true, they encountered something that overcame them. They were moved beyond the forces of creating the next best church gathering, into a movement that was out of their hands. Yet, they were so in tune with it that it led them to change.

Maybe Theophilus quit his job with the Roman government. Maybe he got fired. Anyhow, something profound happened in his heart, and he was desperate to do something about it.

The questions that I've been asking myself lately are: Do I believe that they believed? Do I believe that they encountered the risen Christ? Do I believe that what they encountered prompted them to give up everything for the sake of Christ?