Teaching Myself

So right now I'm on a boat. No really, I'm actually posting this while on a boat. A ferry, to be exact; between Ireland and England. We have successfully completed the specifically 'ministry' side of our trip and are now on the homestretch. Just a few more touristy things in England before we hop on a plane back to the States. Over the next couple days, we will walk around London, most likely spending time in the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, potentially Buckingham Palace and the Olympic village, as well as other notable London sites. On Sunday, we'll go to church in Birmingham with members of the Globalscope campus ministry located at the local university. On Monday, we'll ferry back to Ireland and spend another night (like last night) at Bonnie's friends' house in Drogheda. Then it's off to Dublin airport for home.

I'm excited for London, but really, I'm just sad to see our time with the kids go. The three days we spent with the children and teens at Lissara were wonderful. Sure, the kids are crazy and the teens are initially shy, but that's par for the course isn't it? We shared a lot of laughs over how the church advertised us: we were called 'The Indiana' and were there for a 'Three Day After School Special'. For our VBS (or 'Kid's Club'), we divided our team into three groups - one taking crafts, another games and the third, teaching. Mikala was part of the crafts group (big surprise!) and our two guys and I were part of the teaching group (even bigger surprise!).

As the base for our crafts and lessons, we used materials they gave us, which were based out of the Gospel of Mark, but the lessons were pretty much original. Our three lessons were on Jesus calling the brothers to be fishers of men, Jesus walking on water and the parable of the four soils. For our first two lessons, we created a boat out of two benches (the deck), a boom-mic stand (mast) and a large piece of poster board (sail). Yeah, we're pretty brilliant. Of course, the older kids think we're ridiculous, but the two younger groups really seemed to enjoy it. I hope our lessons made some impact, or at least were interesting enough that the kids don't hate church forever, but what I loved was how much I was moved by the stories we told. One of the primary rules for a preacher (or any Bible teacher really) is to let the lesson own you; to let it sink in deep and affect you in a real way. It's not likely to impact other people if it can't reach your own heart. I've taught each of those lessons before, with much more theological depth, yet as we sought to distill these stories down to their core points in order to transmit them to kids between the ages of 3 and 12, I was struck anew by the power, connectedness and simplicity of the Gospel. Jesus loves you. He doesn't care if you're the smartest or the lowest in the class, He wants you to use your gifts, talents (well, life) for Him. He wants you to take your earthly calling (fishing, perhaps?) and turn it into something dynamic for His Kingdom. Not only that, but He promises to go with you. Sometimes we think He's given us a calling and then just sent us into the storm of life, all alone and forgotten. But then we find Him walking through the storm with us, easily conquering the waves that so terrify us. Finally, we know He's called us and that He promises to go with us, but ultimately, the response is up to us. The question is: "What kind of heart do I have?" and, "am I willing to believe and act on Jesus' claim to love me?"

These were the truths we desperately tried to give to these kids. Maybe it got through. Maybe not. Maybe they'll only remember the goofy Americans that pretended to be on a boat. Maybe the teens we hung out with in the evenings will think more of us than as just another church group. I don't know. Ultimately, I don't have control of their responses, but I am incredibly grateful for the opportunity to know these amazing kids and to see the powerful work of God, even through the humble efforts of a small Presbyterian church in a small village in Northern Ireland. Thank you for your support, through prayer and money. This experience has been life-changing on many levels and there is so much more I could say. If you have any questions on our experiences, please contact us and we'd love to tell you more.

Blessings,

Josh and Mikala

VBS And Sunday Roast

We have a guest poster today: my wonderful wife Mikala! She will be informeing you about our experiences yesterday as we attended church at Lissara Presbyterian in Crossgar and of our first day doing VBS at Lissara for the local kids.

Hey everyone! I guess I am getting the privilege of talking about our host church. Yesterday morning we attended a very formal communion (this only happens twice a year) at Lissara Presbyterian church. We had met the minister and a few congregation members a few days earlier, so the Reverend had us come up front and introduce oursleves to the whole church. The service was something that I had never experienced. We sat in very old stiff-backed benches, I am sure this was to keep us awake and sand all of the songs out a hymnal. We actually sang straight from the book of Psalms as well, that was very new to me! Reverend Ian preached on Revelation, which was refreshing, as that is something rare in todays churches. Honestly the church was a great experience, but not exactly what I would've picked. This church has many things going for them, but the best are the people. We've been showered with love and hospitality right away. After church we got split up into groups and were given lunch by different families. Bonnie, Josh and I went to the Reverends and his family's house. We enjoyed "Sunday roast" and great conversation. When "Tea time" came around we headed back to the church and had more food! Then we helped with an informal worship service. We got interviewed, helped with music and explained what we would be doing this next week at the church.

Our first day at our after VBS called "The Indiana," yes they named the program after us, was a success! We had 49 kids and plenty of fun. We had music, story, games and crafts (with my mad pinterest skills I got put in charge of this area). The kids were very willing to talk with us and I admit they were just flat out adorable. I was told by the Reverend that most of these kids do not come from a church background, so their parents bringing them to us was a big deal. After eating Tea we got ready for the teen drop by time. This time was a challenge for me. I LOVE little ones but talking to a bunch of giggly 13 year girls is not my thing! Luckily we pulled out the volley ball net and well my team destroyed Josh's team, enough said. We played a wonderful cheesy ice breaker game afterwards which made the teens tell us a little about themselves. I do think most of them will come back tomorrow night and we will do another cheesy game!

I will say that even though we got this program thrown at us just this weekend, we handled it very well! I am very proud of the team and all their hard work today!

Love, Mikala

Sightseeing Ministry

There is one certainty when it comes to short-term mission trips: Your expectations on the trip will be broken.

We came to Northern Ireland expecting to jump right into ministering with youth. This means we expected to spend all our time talking and hanging out with young people, being made to look like fools on the 'football pitch' with young people, having our American-ness made fun of by young people, and generally, well, just being with young people. However, up to this point, we have only spent one afternoon and evening with them. Rather, our time has been spent together: planning for next week's VBS, eating, drinking tea, and walking or riding to one of many sightseeing locations. I already mentioned our literal first stop after arriving from Dublin: Monasterboice. Since then, we have seen multiple incredibly interesting sites, plus taken in the flavor of some of the local villages. The most memorable and picturesque destinations included Downpatrick Cathedral and cemetery (the site of St. Patrick's grave and one of the more active locations of his ministry), Tollymore Park (one of the places the great C.S. Lewis found his inspiration for Narnia), Castlewellan (which included a real hedge maze, a beautiful castle overlooking a lake, and a large garden, full of exotic plants and trees), the rope bridge at Carrick-a-Rede point, and especially, the Giant's Causeway.

First, it should be noted for posterity that I finished the maze first. Not only that, but I was well ahead (by about 10 and 30 minutes) of the following two groups.

No, really, I was!

Okay, now that anyone who actually knows me has regained a sitting position, I should add that I split off and tackled the maze alone, rather than attempting to run it in a group, meaning I had much less discussion to deal with on choosing the correct route, so take that for what it's worth.

Anyway, I wish I had space to truly do justice for all the beautiful places I have seen the last couple days, but I'll stick with the one that was by far the best.

The Giant's Causeway lies nearly at the 'top' of the island, where the Irish and North seas meet. It is, without a doubt, the single most breathtaking thing I have ever seen in my entire life. The sheer beauty of the Causeway – the stone formations, the bay, the cliffs – is still a little too much to take in. After walking the 1/2 mile trail to the famous hexagonal stones, we continued up the criss-crossing path on our way to the top of the cliff. The final stage was 162 stone steps known as the 'Shepherd's Path', which, after having walked all day and then taken the steep trail to the steps, was quite the workout! Finally, we found ourselves on the edge of grass-covered cliffs overlooking the Causeway and bay. The sun was beginning its descent through the clouds just to our left while the slate-colored sea went out endlessly before us. I took pictures, but I almost wish I hadn't, just so the innocent sacredness of the moment might live on forever in my memory alone.

(Okay, I'm going to stop trying to describe it because I'm not getting anywhere near the mark. Suffice to say we all could've easily stayed upon that ridge until every last ounce of light had vanished behind the horizon.)

Back to that in a minute.

After the return drive and dinner at The Galley (N. Ireland's best fish and chips three years running... no really, the spuds were brought in that day from nearby farms and the fish was caught that morning in the bay across the street), we made it back to Murlough and had a short 'de-breifing' time during which nearly every one of us expressed our utter wonder at God's creation, our enjoyment in the few short hours we have spent with the kids, and also our frustration at the (so far) lack of 'real ministry'. Again, expectations were that sightseeing would be mixed in with our ministry, or else held off to the end, but this seemed to be the opposite – a sightseeing trip with ministry mixed in. "When will the real ministry begin?" we all asked.

First, I should say we were assured that the 'expected' ministry will begin, officially, tomorrow (Sunday) when we attend the church in Crossgar where we'll be doing the majority of our work next week, but perhaps more to the point, I realized that the ministry has already begun. I found myself face-to-face with an unsettling challenge to a truth about the Christian life. A truth I hold very dear and have hertofore spoke of with such confidence: "Everything is ministry. Everything is worship." Yes, there are definitely times when it is more overt and planned, but a Christian's life is meant to be lived in the world, worshiping God and ministering to the needs of others in every situation, not merely visited for official God-business. Although the relationship-building with the youth in N. Ireland has yet to begin in earnest, I kind of came to the realization that I have been building relationships this entire trip – with everyone from the Campus House, with our hosts at Murlough, with our hilarious driver, Paul.

Not only that, but I have had some serious alone time with God this last week. It seems everywhere I turn, I find another place meant specifically for me to have a brief moment of worship. As soon as we arrive at a destination, such as Monasterboice, the maze at Castlewellan, Downpatrick or the Causeway, I make a beeline for the most seculded spot and just start conversing (talking and listening!) with God. Maybe that's the ministry I've needed to be participating in – God's ministry to me. Yes, I am very excited for the relationships we will be building this next week, but I can't allow myself to believe that's when the 'real' ministry begins. The most intense ministry I may ever experience happened not in the church building but in the few moments when I ran to the edge of the Causeway and looked out at the sea that was washing the stones at my feet. It was when I paid the price of sweat to walk the path up the cliff and have the sheer majesty of God literally throw me to the ground in reverent awe.

Ministry is everywhere. Worship is everywhere. We're not bringing it with us, we merely have the opportunity to join in with what has been going on for all eternity. May I have eyes to see what's always all around me. May you see the ministry (and the worship) all around you, wherever you may be.

Blessings,

Josh

Jet Lag And The Extra Mile

Day one of mission trips are always so weird. There is this pervasive feeling of complete lost-ness. Airport customs procedures, even at their best, are stressful. You have no feel for the time or place, you're attempting to acclimate to new food and languages (or in our case, accents/vocab) and you're meeting new people who are forming their first impressions of you. Of course, this is all happening while you desperately attempt to fight off jet lag. In case you've never experienced this wonderful side-effect of modern travel, it basically feels like a mad scientist has given a highly-caffeinated, under-slept toddler full control of your body, but not your brain. You find your thoughts are able to process at normal speed, but your speech and actions go between moments of hyper-active behavior and complete meltdown.

And these changes occur instantly. Without warning. To nine people. At different times.

Yeah.

Plus you're still getting to know your hosts and they're getting to know you. In the background of all this is the truth that this relationship (at least in its present form) will only last a week or two. Your group and its experience, so on the forefront of your mind, to you will be no more than a memory the moment you return home, and to your hosts is merely a drop in the bucket to a ministry that sees scores of people just like you come and go on a weekly basis.

And yet, through all that, the first day or two here at Murlough House has been pretty good. On the way from Dublin airport, we were able to stop at Monasterboice, an early Christian settlement dating back to the 5th century. Aside from the cemetery, the ruins of the two churches and the tower, this site also includes a few of the most important (and complete) of Ireland's many stone crosses. I had to restrain myself from simply taking pictures the entire time; i definitely want to remember this site, but I also wanted to truly see it, to take it in. I could have stayed there all day - looking, reading, thinking, praying - but alas, we needed to continue our trip into Northern Ireland. So we piled back into the van and sped off down the narrow, winding Irish back-highways. Our primary contact and host, Richie, drives, or rather flies, this wide vehicle down the road like he could do it blindfolded (which he probably was) with someone chasing him (which he probably did). I believe the term he used for his driving was 'slinging' the van down the road.

So that evening we did a little more sightseeing in the nearby bay-town of Newcastle, plus we took a tour of the actual house (built in the mid-1800s) and the grounds, which are part of a state 'trust' (state park). Today, i went for a run in the chilly, beautiful Irish dawn, with the green fields and mountains on my left and the sea on my right. Later, we settled in and spent a few hours chatting with a group of elderly people who have lunch here every so often, then, while everyone else either took a nap or played a game, Richie took me, the only 25+ year old who can drive a stick, for a quick UK/big van driving test to see if I was fit to transport us when he couldn't. I'm proud to say I passed and only got confused with the drive-on-the-left thing a couple times, mostly when turning right (which all of a sudden is much more dangerous than it is back home!).

The only other thing we've experienced is the hour we spent listening to John Moxen, the founder of Murlough House's ministry, share his testimony. John is a wee, 77 year old man with a great sense of humor and surprisingly spry step. When I say he's a 'wee' man, I mean I can see over him. The guy literally chooses his seat based upon which one allows his feet to touch the floor. Anyway, his life is a tale of unflagging commitment to God's Word (which, as he says, "is not black ink on white pages, but the living Jesus") and a willingness for God to move and act, even if he feels he is neither worthy or clever (as a dyslexic, he didn't learn how to read till 27). Aside from his quote about the Word, the other memorable thing he said almost right out of the gate, was that God allows life to be hard, not beacause it's fun for Him but because "He wants to see if you've got any second mile in you." "Most people" says John, "aren't willing to go the second mile. They quit as soon as it gets tough." Then he proceeded to tell his life-story; one that has been full of second miles.

I think of John and I look at my life. How often have I quit too soon and stunted the work God had for me simply because I went into this thing thinking it would only be one-mile jogs followed by recupperating rests? How often do I find my testimony full of 'what-ifs' and wasted potential because I was ill-prepared for the 'dark night', for mile #2, for doubts, fears and unmet expectations? I refuse to allow that to become my testimony. Ministry will be tough and it will include many unsavory moments, but I want to be a man that savors it anyway. A man who pushes through the hills rather than walks up (or off) them. My story will look different than John's, but I refuse to let this wee man outmatch me in devotion and endurance! I am grateful to have the opportunity to meet him and Richie and the rest of the Murlough House staff, and am excited for the upcoming week of service and new experiences. Let the miles come!

Thanks for reading and I'll be sure to post some of Mikala's thoughts in a couple days.

Blessings,

Josh

thoughts on the Holy Spirit

It is amazing how much of my life is lived with a cup in hand.

Without a second thought, I set one beside my plate. Beverages accompany my every meal and snack - often serving as a meal or snack themselves. Every moment of the day seems shared with refreshment of some sort. I read, write, think, and talk with a drink in hand. (As I write this, I’m nursing a pot of hot tea.)

You can imagine that due to my habit of constant hydration, I also clean a lot of cups. It seems that no matter how hard I try to conserve, I always end up using at least a few per day. One for water, one for milk, one for coffee or tea, one for a pop or some other cold beverage. How often I find myself with warm water running, soapy rag in one hand and cup in the other!

There is another use I have for cups, though. This is my least-favorite and therefore least-used application for household drinking vessels: cleaning. (For any who find themselves often at the mercy of my hospitality it should be noted that these are typically older, partially destroyed containers; fit for nothing but the trash or their current use - not for guests to drink from!) However much I try to avoid it though, it is inevitable that dogs, tubs and carpets need cleaning. So I find myself yet again performing a task with cup in hand.

I am a cup. A vessel made for a specific purpose. Sometimes that purpose is light and easy. Sometimes it’s unlovely and frustrating. Yet regardless of the ease of function, I am constantly compelled to fill myself to the brim - to steadily watch the water of life rise within my soul. Then... to turn and pour - that the overflow may be a refreshing draught or cool ablution to those upon whom I turn my attentions.

This is the essence of worship - of the Spirit-filled, Word-saturated, Christ-like life.

Hold that thought.

We are told that if we believe in Christ, His Spirit dwells within us. During their final meal together, He told His friends that the Counselor would come to them. In the midst of their grief and loss, in the thick of their confusion and slipping faith - when they felt most abandoned, He came to them. “I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you."

We are not alone. If we accept the Word of Christ, His Spirit takes up residence within the confines of our hearts.

Anything? A catch in the throat? A leap of the heart?

..... nothing .....? Hm.

One of the greatest casualties of our intellectually-based faith tradition is our doctrine concerning the Holy Spirit. From the flannel-graph to the pulpit, we utterly fail to grasp the full meaning of the Holy Spirit’s indwelling of our souls. Now, the wonderful ladies who taught my Sunday School classes were most likely not attempting to inspire fear when they told me that God is “always watching,” but they did. He sees all - He sees me when I’m sleeping, He knows when I’m awake. He knows if I’ve been bad or good...

ahem.

The tragedy is, though, that our teachings on God’s omniscience tend to lean us closer to St. Nick than the Holy Spirit. We hear of God’s all-knowing, all-seeing presence and think of a distant, keen-eyed list keeper - amiable for the most part, though terrible in wrath if it comes to it.

In fact if we are honest the omniscient, everywhere-at-once side of God has little to do with the Holy Spirit in our minds. In most Christian rhetoric, this mysterious member of God’s personal community tends to be viewed as a gift giver (back to the jolly fat man again!). Our thoughts tend to fall most on what He does for us (“Does He give me an inexplicable ability to speak in the tongues of angels?” “Does He make me a more passionate worshiper?” etc.) and we forget that God’s ability to see all of Creation stems directly from His Spirit infusing that Creation. Then once we finally hold that idea, we run into another problem. Since the Holy Spirit is a less “concrete” idea than the Father or the Son, we tend to not assign Him a specific entity. Rather He becomes an ethereal, metaphysical cloud of a being that can be called upon to perform specific functions (i.e. give something) when needed and forgotten when it is convenient.

The issue here is not that the Spirit of God is a giver of spiritual gifts. He is. Paul tells his brothers in Corinth that the Spirit manifests Himself (makes Himself known) in different ways for different people “for the common good.” Some are given gifts of wisdom, or intellect. To others, He gives them gratuitous amounts of faith. Still to a few others, He passes out the fireworks - gifts of healing, prophecy, tongues, interpretation, etc.

The point however, is not in the gifts but in their rationale: “for the common good.” Gifts of the Spirit are given in accordance with the inherent potential and need that God sees within an individual, but they are all given for the ultimate purpose of building up the body and displaying Christ to the world.

What is the best way of carrying out that purpose though? What is the vehicle that will translate our raw God-given talents into the currency of life-giving Spiritual gifts?

If we continue to read Paul’s letter, he tells the Corinthians that he will now show them “the most excellent way.” This ‘most excellent way’ is the key. The key to understanding the purpose of our gifts, of our lives as Christians. It gives context to our community and our mission. Without it, we are mere children playing with toys far beyond our comprehension. And, like toddlers piloting motorcycles, the result will be anything but “for the common good.”

This ‘most excellent way’ is simple. So simple in fact that we can sum it up in one word. But like most one-word solutions, the unpacking of the concept is beyond any one man’s ability to fully comprehend or achieve. The simple answer is love. The full idea however, is beyond even the divinely-inspired pen of Paul to completely convey.

First he tries explain that, without love, our spiritual gifts of tongues, prophecy, scholarship, faith, and generosity are worthless.

Our GOD-GIVEN gifts mind you. All meaningless without love.

Moving on, the Apostle then tries to explain both what love is and is not:

It is patient and kind. It is not envious, boastful, proud or rude. It is not self-seeking or easily angered. Nor is it a record keeper of past injustices suffered. It gets no pleasure from evil, only from pure, unadulterated Truth. Love always protects, trusts, hopes, perseveres and above all, never fails. (paraphrase)

Now that’s a nice list, but what does it mean for our lives, our community and the world? How does Paul expect us to take in such an “excellent way” and still learn to use the gifts we’ve been given? And what does this all have to do with the Holy Spirit?

First, remember that the gifts themselves are not the point. They are for the ‘common good,’ which is, in essence, the building up of our Christian brothers and the world around us. Secondly, we learn to use our gifts as we learn to love. Think about that. Our gifts do not become truly Spirit-given until they are used in love with the purpose of building others up. Just because we have a talent (e.g. engaging speaker, musical abilities, keen intellect, hospitable nature or empathetic disposition), does that mean we are automatically using them for God if we express them in the context of church? Could we really assume that the church building is so holy that a vindictive, impatient, unkind man can step up on the stage, preach a sermon and build up the body?

Well, yes and no.

Thankfully, God can use the worst of us to glorify His Name and strengthen His Church. No doubt there will be some who hear the message and don’t realize the personal context of the deliverer. They will walk away strengthened, praising God for using that man’s gifts. On the other hand, God is also willing to allow that man’s hypocrisy to curdle in the hearts of those of his hearers who know him best. They will leave frustrated that God would allow such a miscreant to so brazenly exhort others to abide by words he himself refuses to follow. The God-given talents were used, the Spirit-given gifts were not.

Unfortunately for me, I am that vindictive, impatient, unkind man (who also happens to deliver the occasional sermon). What hope is there for one such as me? How can I move from merely using my human talents for my own ends to allowing the Spirit of God to course through my veins and into my actions? How can I apply Paul’s teaching and love those around me when every desire within urges a different approach? In short, “who will rescue me from this body of death?”

Paul answers that in another letter when he declares that I am not controlled by the sinful nature, but by the Spirit (if the Spirit of God lives in me). And I know that the Spirit lives within me because I have made a commitment to be a disciple - on that day when I was baptized in the Name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. I know because I am not controlled by the sinful nature. Oh I am most certainly still susceptible to it, but I am not controlled by it. Because of Christ’s sacrifice and my decision to accept it, my dying body is no longer the dominant force in my life. My soul, that smallest of sparks from the eternal Flame of God’s being can be alive because of Someone Else’s righteous acts on my behalf. It is in that knowledge of my own insufficiency - the comprehension that I did nothing to merit the Counselor’s presence in my life - that I am able to pursue this life of love that Paul lays out.

Now that’s what I call the gift of the Holy Spirit!

It‘s not a talent or ability, but the free bestowing of God’s presence in my life. He is not a spying, red-suited list keeper, but an “ever-present help in trouble.” The Spirit is not a faceless entity, ready at our beck and call but a member of the Godhead. He is the paraklete: the Helper, Aid-giver, Consoler and Counselor. The Advocate, who takes our case before a Judge we are unqualified to see. The Giver of gifts and Reminder of the Will of God. He takes the frozen hearts of care-worn pilgrims and saturates them in the warmth of the God of love.

And the most impossible part of it all? Quite often we get to be the vehicles of that love. Oh sometimes the Spirit just skips a step and pours His gifts upon unsuspecting men and women (cf. the book of Acts). Most of the time, though, He relies on our fumbling hands to do His business. He works in us at an individual level, filling us up in preparation for acts of love, and then works through us to accomplish them.

Which brings us back to the cup.

I am a cup. You are a cup. We are all called to be vessels of the Holy Spirit. A chalice filled to the brim with the crystal clear water of life.

Throughout our daily lives, the God of the Universe spends His time pouring the limitless waters of Himself into the cups of our souls via His Word, prayer & meditation, fasting & praise, brief revelations of Joy and Beauty and acts of love received. We then in turn pour our small, hole-ridden vessels out upon all who happen to step into our path. A worshipful Christian life is a one that is daily filled by the Lord and poured out upon others. Sunday just happens to be the day He set aside for us to practice it together en masse. We could not hold it in even if we wanted to. A Christian who keeps the Water to himself most assuredly has an empty cup. If we are truly allowing the Spirit to flow into our souls, there will be no doubt because it will - it must - overflow onto others.

So how do we know for sure? The Apostle John says that there is a way we can know we are walking in the Truth. There is a method we can follow that will put our hearts at rest in the presence of God so that even if our hearts try and condemn us, we can know, without a single, nagging doubt that we are pleasing God:

This is how we know what love is: Jesus Christ laid down his life for us. And we ought to lay down our lives for our brothers. If anyone has material possessions and sees his brother in need but has no pity on him, how can the love of God be in him? Dear children, let us not love with words or tongue but with actions and in truth.

There’s a story of a young boy who went to Sunday school one week to see a life-sized, cardboard-cutout of Jesus standing in his classroom. His teacher proceeded to speak of how Jesus died so that He could live inside us - that He loves us so much He wants to come into our hearts.
The boy’s eyes got wide. He raised his hand and said, “But He’s so big! If I let Him inside me He’ll be bursting out all over the place!”

thoughts on identity

"I don't want to talk to him, you do it!"

"Shh! No, you do it."

"Why?"

"Because I'm staff, you're the student. You should talk to the new stu-dent."

So begins another Sunday morning at the Campus House. New, unplugged students sit quietly fidgeting in their seats, instantly betraying their newbie status while the vets circle the wagons 'round the most interesting conversation, or the coffee (depending on the morning). Some dutiful leader will trudge over to the nearest of these new kids and try to strike up a conversation. Yet the answers come too quickly; flat responses not begging a response or further questions. Two minutes later, the stock questions are used up, the awkward silence begins, and the defeated leader returns to the group. Guess they didn't really want to belong, or they would've answered my questions better. Oh well, mission accomplished. Count one more jewel in the ol' crown and pass the creamer.

...All we wanted was to belong, to be included; for the circle to open towards us and for that exchange of stories and life-experiences to begin. The couple to our left (both fellow campus pastors) smiled and introduced themselves. We began said exchange. Yet our answers quickly came, our return questions begging only the smallest concessions from their target. All we wanted was to belong, to be included. Why then did we resist that which we wanted most? I turn to ask another question, to somehow keep the conversation moving forward (to where...?), and they dutifully answer. The stilted, forced conversation ground on for a few minutes more, until they saw old friends and slowly pulled themselves out of our sphere and into another. All we wanted was to belong, to be included - and they wanted to include us, to help us belong.

So who's fault was it that we didn't? Who must take the blame for the breakdown of community? Is it the ones inside the circle who legitimately try but fail? Is it the outsider who just can't get comfortable?

God, why is this so hard!?
Why does this community thing give us so much trouble? I mean if we were made to do it, if God hard-wired the desire and abilities for deep human interaction within our psyche, why do we find it so difficult?

For that matter, why do we find it so hard to do, well, anything we were created to do? Why is it that every single thing we were created to be - those things that should be at the center of our existence, at the very core of our being and self-perception, are the most elusive of all? Our retreat speaker says that "horses were made for running, dogs for hunting, and humans for worship - to dwell in the presence of God." Dwelling? How could I ever dwell in the presence of the Almighty? It's hard enough for me to force myself before His feet in the 20 minutes provided by the music leader, or in my contrived, bored devotional moments. Dwell in God's presence? I have difficulty just visiting! Worship is just one stop around the board, one corner along the way to my $200 and "GO". How can I encourage a lifestyle of worship from those I profess to teach, when I find it so hard to practice?

She just won't leave me alone! She slammed it down my throat in high school, she followed me to college. Oh I never saw her, she was too good for that, but I heard her. When I was studying for a test, reading for a report, or researching a paper, she was there whispering in my ear ... barely audible to anyone else, but present nonetheless. I thought I'd left her behind once I graduated, but she keeps popping up!

I am, of course, talking about my senior AP lit teacher.

"Identity!" she'd say, "It's all about identity! Raskolnikov, Frankenstein and his monster, Hazel Motes, all the Bundren's, Invisible Man, Marlow, Kurtz... they're all after identity!" And it was true. It seemed that every book we encountered found someone searching for identity - for who they really were in this messed up world. I don't mean by vocation, nationality, ethnicity or any other way that men try to define one another. I mean personally, deeply. These characters wanted to know who they were at the root of themselves. When all else was stripped away, what was the truth that would remain? Would anything?

Discussing this idea of "identity" brings other characters to my mind. Other men and women who just wanted to know who they were... King David - "What does it mean to be 'God's anointed'? Am I still worth anything once the crown is stripped away? When I'm exiled from my own city?" Or take Moses - "How do I lead God's Chosen People? Where's the balance between self-degradation and over-weaning pride? Am I still worth anything if I delegate my responsibilities to other men?"

What of Sarah or Hannah (lacking the one thing a respectable eastern woman needed - sons)? Who were they if not just dry wells, objects worthy of scorn and derision?

Zachaeus? Just a mean, wee little man (one sympathizes)!

And Peter? So impulsive, so "leap first" - just a cover for insecurity.

And on, and on...

It's probably cliche to say that Jesus got it right but well, He did. He must have had questions... right? I mean, what was all that business with His baptism? Did He need to be confirmed by John? Or when He asks His disciples who they think He is. Does it really matter? The very embarrassing Gethsemane ordeal? And what in the world was all the loneliness of the cross? All that "forsaken" business? Sounds pretty depressive for someone who knows He is God's one and only begotten Son!

Yet I think it's in that last example - of the Messiah's final cry of despair - that we find the answer to our own question of identity. Jesus lived His earthly ministry and life (interchangeable ideas for Him. Hmmmm... ...ahem, anyway) with a confidence and a well, humble swagger that had never before been seen. He was so confident in His place with His Father that He was literally unflappable. It astounded His audiences, it mesmerized His disciples. It drove His enemies crazy. Yet it drew all of the above to Him like a magnet. But why? I mean, why was the Saviour so irresistible to those He met?

By now you can probably guess the answer is "Identity." Jesus knew Who He was on the deepest level. To sum up like 5 hours of talking, our speaker says that God gives us two things - unconditional love and freedom. Jesus had both of those - a knowledge that He was completely, unchangeably, deeply loved. And, because of said love, He was free to pursue eternal, Kingdom-driven dreams. Now since He was God and He kinda came to save the world, His dream was pretty focused but you get the idea.

So when did this twofold gift - the promise of love-everlasting and freedom-eternal - come to us? Well, we were originally created to know and enjoy both gifts, but the Fall pretty much ended that dream. It was not until Jesus came and showed us exactly what that kind of life looked like that we were able once again to appropriate these gifts. He showed us what a real Human Being looks like. See, the times we act most like "humans" is not when we fail. It is not when we get angry or depressed, or our pride is bruised, or we get this overwhelming desire to prove ourselves. Those desires are carnal. They're animal. No, we act most like humans when we live comfortably rooted in the knowledge of the Twofold Gift. Paul described it as Jesus becoming the "Second Adam" - the One who could reverse the first Adam's damage and could show us again how to appropriate and live out the knowledge given in The Gift. Lewis describes it as Jesus beginning a "good infection" at the root of humanity - one that will slowly - sometimes imperceptibly - yet relentlessly transform the whole Tree. We're called to "catch" this infection and follow our Kinsman Redeemer where He will lead.

Where are we following Him? Into humanity. Sweaty, dust-covered, flawed, glorious humanity. Slowly, as we begin to appropriate the Gift - as I begin to not only believe but actually live as though God loves me without condition or stipulation, and that His love sets me free - we can pass it on to others.

And now we find ourselves at the end (or back at the beginning). You see, we long for community. All of us. We all want to know and be known by others. To have them encourage and challenge us with Truth. To have "a real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinner." But that desire will forever go unfulfilled until the day we catch Jesus' Good Infection and pass it on. Until the day we live as though nothing in this world can take us because we "are all sons of God through faith in Christ Jesus" (Gal 3:26), that through the waters of our baptism we have truly "clothed ourselves with Christ" and become God's true and rightful heirs... until that day, we cannot have true, lasting community because we do not yet have it with God ourselves. So you see, it's really up to you, and me. Whether I am the insider or the new kid, community begins with me. We cannot invite people to share a gift we have never received, cannot lead people down a road we have never travelled. But I have faith that one day, when I can finally just believe what I should have always known about myself, I can shake off the paralyzing rust of sin, take up the privileges and responsibilities of The Gift and become, for the first time, truly Human.

Then I can ask you to come along.

new direction...

so this is going in a new direction.

previously I had used this space as part of an assignment. I had a class that basically kept up with my ministry and gave me internship credits labeled as "field experience." now that I am graduated and in an official full-time ministry position (actually, I've been in it for a year now), I wanted to use this as a place to think.

I'll do my best to only publish edited versions of my "thoughts," but understand that I'm writing this as a means to help process different thoughts/notions/theories of the theological/devotional/life persuasion.

I tend to speak more clearly and explain myself better if I've battled it out on the keyboard first.

I really would like to keep these coming out about once every month at the least (preferably more... just depends on the craziness of the semester).

so without further ado, here's the first two entries that I've had sitting around for a month-ish.