Hi & Lois...Really!?

I am a stalwart reader of the comics.  I don't know how or why I fell into the habit, but I generally manage (to my wife's chagrine) to read the funnies every morning before leaving for work...even when it means that the kids need to ask twice to grab my attention and get, say, more milk in their cereal bowl...or maybe a spoon with which they can, you know, eat... said... cereal.

While I read the comics every day, I don't generally expect them to speak to me...not with a message from God or anything.  Which made it doubly-strange when they did, this morning.  He did, I mean.  I guess. And it seemed particularly odd when He chose "Hi & Lois" to do it...I mean, really: Hi & Lois!?  Well, at any rate, take a look:

Original Image published online at http://www.timesunion.com/comics/index.asp?feature_id=Hi_and_Lois&feature_date=2009-10-21

Now allow me to explain:  Over recent weeks a group of men (myself included) have finalized all the proper steps to establish an organization called Piercing the Veil. It's purpose? Well...in a nutshell, to help enable men to find their purpose in life.  God's purpose to be more exact...His calling, for each of us.  The Life He promises, now.

So here we are - a group of men who have labored together to establish and register an organization...to create and post a website (http://www.piercing-the-veil.com/)... to reserve space at Wintergreen Resort this January in hopes that 60 or more men will gather in pursuit of God's calling in their life, and I'm reading the comics over my coffee this morning when, in the third panel, that baby hits on the real bottom line we all face.

Is everything I'm doing...most of what I'm up to, I mean...is it all really just, well...crap?

Certainly it is...or can be...in my life.  And why wouldn't it be?  What am I pursuing?  To what do I hold myself accountable?  To what do I aspire?  For what do I hope?  And pray?  Any given day my priorities and actions and thoughts and efforts point to "important" things like my paycheck or vacation plans.  And those are just a few topics that seem "safe enough" to disclose on a blog...what is my real pursuit, moment by moment?  Lust? Power? Money? Fame and Ego?  Seriously. How far removed from a baby's diapers are all of my apparent pursuits, in the big picture I mean?

Oh wait...a big picture? A larger story?  You mean there might be more? 

The last poll data I saw (published in Parade magazine, a reputable source in any good theologian's book) indicated that something like 80% of adults in America muster up a prayer of some sort any given week...so there is at least a collective hope that something more is out there...something more matters.

If that were true, is true, what if that "something more" actually wanted more than a happenstance prayer now and again...and not for His sake, but for ours?  What if He wanted something more for us?  What if, against all odds, He wanted to tell us what that looked like?  Not with layers of duty and ritual or in some type of demeaning "you can't really ever do it" kind of way...but with an invitation and a desire and a hope to chase.  Something to pursue.

Wow.  What if He were to sit next to you on the couch and say, "Boy you're lucky.  Your purpose is to..."

That would be pretty cool, I think.  Might He?  Do you hope He would?  Join me, and others, and a guy named Gary Barkalow (find out more about him at http://www.thenobleheart.com/) at Wintergreen this January 8-10.  Learn more about our group and register for the event online at http://www.piercing-the-veil.com/.

One Thing I Question

For no good reason that comes to mind I turned on the radio this morning on my drive to work.  I don't often do that.  If I can maintain "upward" focus on my drive (instead of spiraling into thoughts about work, my to-do list or, more often, picking up my phone to make a call), I sometimes use the 15 minutes from my house to the office to engage in prayer...but rarely, if ever, do I turn any "sound" on in the morning.  No real aversion, just not something I do - except for today.

Scanning through the available stations I came upon a song that I later discovered to be called "The One Thing."  A youtube or google search indicates that title has been used and reused for quite some time, but the iteration that caught my ear is by a guy named Paul Colman.  The refrain went like this:

"But the one thing I don't question is You.  You really love me like You say You do..."

The song was wonderfully done featuring what sounded like a trio of men.  Acoustic guitar. Beautiful harmonies.  And that chorus was featured over and over again...haunting, almost.  I suppose I choose the word "haunting" to a purpose because I found myself deeply moved by the purity of that line: "The one thing I don't question is You."

It feels pure and deep and completely untrue.

"The one thing I DON'T question is You!?"  Are you kidding me?  That is, to a fault, the one thing I horribly, fundamentally, frequently and fervently DO question!  Should I? Well of course not!  BUT DO I?  Yes.  Oh Lord I'm so sorry but yes.  Isn't that at the heart of it all?  Isn't that really the brokeness of my heart, inherited through generations going back to the original, "Did He really say? Does He really love..." question planted by the enemy?  Acted on by Adam and Eve!?

And now I'm in the car with this phrase rolling over me again and again.  I'm sinking into it. It feels familiar.  It feels like conviction and I'm lost in the darkness, in the gap between who I want to be and who I really am. I am literally going to drown in it.  But then, just a little at first, it doesn't feel quite so dark or convicting.  I mean the song is over and I've, thankfully, turned off the radio; but that phrase is in my head and on my lips and the music is driving it home, even with just me singing, a capella, and the harmony only playing out in my head as I continue to mouth the words, to sing these words...and, against my understanding, they grow larger. They grow lighter.  They even begin to resonate, cleaner.

Have you seen, "Good Will Hunting?"  I hope so.  As I played this chorus over and again in my head I was suddenly reminded of the scene from that film when Robin William's character keeps saying over and over again, "Its not your fault" while Will first dismisses then battles against then finally succumbs to the truth of that phrase.  It isn't his fault - it really, really isn't. I've seen that movie several times and, even moreso, I've seen that clip used to demonstrate the love that God has to offer. The fathering He desires to provide to us.  To me.

This felt like that.  Penetrating.  Haunting.  Like there was a truth inside of it that I couldn't really get at on my own.  Something important but impossible.
"But the one thing I don't question is You. You really love me like You say You do..."

And the remarkable thing was to find my conviction not "forgiven" but, rather, disarmed.  I had the dawning awareness that this -- THIS -- is the deepest lie that I must battle: that I live in disbelief of Him. 

It is a lie, you know.  It is an agreement I make that, even at its worst, is just a misconstrued misunderstanding that turns "but how can this be" into "it can't be true." Quick. Simple. Deep. An arrow straight into my heart.

Do you see this?  Can you catch a glimpse of it?  It seems so apparent yet horribly elusive, even writing this and trying to grab hold, to hang onto it, I can feel the idea slipping from my grip.

My heart believes.  My NEW heart doesn't question.  "I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh. (NIV Ezekiel 36:26) My truest self knows -- KNOWS -- He really does love me. Because He rescued me from my real disbelief. Because He gave me the new heart that can't forget and doesn't question. And, yes, sometimes I fail to live from that new heart.  In fact, I fail to live from my new heart far more often than I care to admit. But, ultimately, those failings cannot undo the heart change that He has already wrought.  My failing cannot reform what has already been transformed.

In the song, the chorus gives way to a simple plea: "So hold me. Hold me." Its breathy and deep throated and hungry and satisfied.  Because I am transformed and my new heart doesn't question and I know You love me, hold me.  Hold me.  Like Will held tight by his doctor, like a child held tight by his Mom.  Hold me...because it is true.

This New Man Idea

I try, best I can, to be candid about my lack of piety (at least with you the reader, if not truly with myself).  I'm not as diligent as I "should" be about reading my Bible...my prayer time is often the few minutes I can focus on the Lord as I drive to work (or the even fewer minutes I can steal away from my cell phone as I run between appointments throughout the work day).  Yet I am continually surprised, regardless of my commitment, by how committed the Lord remains to me.

This morning my wife and her mom took our infant son and my daughter (the oldest) with her on a trip to Richmond for the weekend.  I'm left with the two boys (three and five) to brave the elements together -- a boy's weekend! As they build a fort out of the pillows from the family room couch, I'm also left with more free time on a Saturday morning than I'm usually afforded...and as I try to steer them away from the television, I find myself unable to break my own rules by preparing for the college football day with ESPN - what better time to crack open the Good Book?

On a  hunch I went to our church's website to find today's reading - for those who are better committed - in the "read the bible in a year" plan.  The first, and longest, recommendation comes from Isaiah chapters 48 through 50.  While I am no scholar, I was deeply struck by warnings like, "I will feed those who oppress you with their own flesh, And they shall be drunk with their own blood as with sweet wine (Isaiah 49:26)."  I'm sure these can be applied directly to Israel's historical enemies...but isn't it poignant that the Lord's warning is that we will feast upon ourselves...and find the feast sweet?  Grotesque but perfectly on target, for me at least.  Even today, this morning, left to my own designs, how easily can I look inward...how readily can I be lured to my own lustful desires that offer the promise of life, but only result in sluggish destruction?  (Particularly with no good wife to reign me in.)

Contrast that with today's corresponding verse in Ephesians 4:17-24.  The Message calls this "The Old Way Has to Go," but for once my wife's New King James speaks more clearly to my heart when titles this section "The New Man:"

"This I say...that you should no longer walk as the rest of [them] walk, in the futility of their mind...alienated from the life of God...because of the blindness of their heart; who, being past feeling, have given themselves over to lewdness, to work all uncleanness with greediness...that you put off, concerning your former conduct, the old man which grows corrupt according to the deceitful lusts, and be renewed in the spirit of your mind, and that you put on the new man which was created according to God, in true righteousness and holiness."

Oh that I could keep my heart from being blind!  And to whom is Paul speaking but to me, to us, to the church!?  He doesn't assume that we are living as "new men" but that we need to be encouraged to do so. That we are ABLE to do so!  He recognizes - God recognizes - that we all too readily feast on our own flesh even as we sit at the foot of His table...and so He takes the time to remind us NOT that we are messing up, but that we are CAPABLE of so much more.  That we don't need to look at the feast He has prepared - the desires and promises He offers us - and yet settle for the hyphenated and false desires that would have us drinking our own sweet wine.

He has better wine for us. 

He is faithful to invite me into the new life He promises; inviting me to be the new man He knows and loves.  Does He blame me for my blindness?  Or does He rather understand and shine a light...even offering me new eyes AND a new heart?

Maybe there is more to this "read the Bible every day" thing than just duty and obligation after all.  I think I'd like some more of this...

Accountable for Parables

A few weeks back I spent some time thinking through (and writing about) the invitation to participate that is inherent in parables. Christ is asked a question. Christ answers with a story. The "asker" must apply himself (or is invited to apply himself) to the question of "what in this story addresses my question...answers my need?"

Last week I was able to listen to a good friend of mine as he presented a message entitled, "The Restoration of Masculine Sexuality" to a men's group. It’s interesting to be in that room as a variety of men struggle to interpret and apply a heady message such as that. I can guess, with 25 some-odd men listening, that circumstances ran across the spectrum from "in desperate need of rescue" to "casually interested but in fairly good shape," and all points in between.

My friend is a huge fan of film. He even refers to movies as "modern parables." And I agree. During his presentation he showed several clips, not as illustrations of a point, but as launching platforms for new perspectives on masculinity, on rescue, on beauty. I spent the 90 minute presentation both drawn into his material and separately observant of the other men in the room. For the most part they seemed stalwart - hopefully intent on absorbing information to the exclusion of interacting, but perhaps in some ways opposed to what they were hearing (I've gotten encouraging reports since the event that lead me toward the former, by the way).

As we watched these clips together, the men and I, and listened to my friend invite us all into a deeper understanding of God the Father's hope for our lives as men, I began to realize another aspect of parables that has intrigued me in the days since. I've already pointed to the parable as an invitation - but I hadn't realized, until now, how strikingly accountable we are each forced to become for our own response.

I don't want this to become confused with some kind of invitation to the altar or anything. I've come to new terms with this idea of "once and for all," you can be sure. I mean to say that I’ve learned to differentiate the start of a journey from the journey itself. You can certainly start on a journey "once" but if your time ever after is spent simply re-starting, you aren't really journeying at all. But I digress...

Isn't it amazing, back to my point, how the process of extending an invitation shifts the weight of accountability fully to the invitee? If I explain things in detail, step-by-step, through process, I seem to have mounting accountability for the transfer of my explanation to my listener. I can check - test, even - to see if the information is understood and assimilated. But when I invite someone to participate, through a film clip or a story...a parable, I am only responsible for the invitation - the remaining onus ("what do I make of this?" "why is this important?") rests squarely on the hearer...the seeker, so to speak.

I suppose this idea intrigues me most because, whether writing or speaking, I feel a burden to translate my ideas in a relevant way that impacts those who will listen. To begin to acknowledge where my responsibility might end in this regard is a powerful concept for me. Many people I know, pastors, part-time speakers, teachers, often get caught in a performance struggle: "Did I say that right?" "Did I make the best case?" And I'll often hear people settle back to a hoped-for truth that "God will make what He wants from it" as they seek to lay that responsibility down.

I'm beginning to pick away at the inkling of an idea that this responsibility was never really mine to take up.

Risk Affirmed

I've had an interesting 10-14 days. Remarkable, in some regards. Trying in others. I live in a constant state of risk/reward - its the life of sales, I suppose...but it is somehow still true in my walk, as well.

Saturday before last I had the opportunity to speak at my church's Men's Breakfast. I hoped to present some avenue of insight into my personal story and preview a concept that will be revisited this coming weekend as we tackle the topic of sex and the lies we believe from the enemy about our own desires. While sex and lust are far more compelling topics for men, I hoped to reveal the same subject matter -- the lies of the enemy -- in a different facet.

In my life I've wrestled quite a bit, life-long I suppose, with ego and validation and pursuit versus loss. Risk/reward. I've come to understand that one tactic of the enemy is to point to my victories, particularly those in pursuit of kingdom goals, and whisper a lie into my ear: "Its all about me."

What's remarkable about kingdom living is how God works to heal wounds...even when we are trying to reveal His truth in the midst of those wounds. That sounds difficult, so I'll explain: I was preparing to expose myself in a venue to discuss my "ego issues" -- a position that lends itself exactly to the "ego issues" which I hoped to describe!

So, preparing to talk with some candor also lent itself to feeling a need for affirmation, validation, and...well...a stroke or two of the old ego! What I found is that God provided me respite and prepared my heart through good friends and men around me, timely reminders of His desire to delight in our achievements (and His invitation to enjoy that delight) and, even more remarkably, a sense of peace and the chance to rest.

Resting is not something I do very well.

It is through that growing peace...with myself and my role in God's economy, that I feel called to share that talk (for those who care to listen) without carrying quite the same burden I have in the past for any accolades...or more specifically any lack thereof. If you have 33 minutes and 50 seconds to spare, please feel free to listen to the story I shared about the loss of my daughter, the writing of a play, and the crushing lie of the enemy in my life.

UPDATE: Player stopped working at some point so please use the link below...

Clicking on this link will take you to a 4shared.com page where you can listen on an embedded player...or I think you can download and even rip/burn/whatever a copy of the MP3 here: 4shared.com link.  Happy listening!

Christian Membership

I have two books on my desk at work right now. The first is called "32 Ways to be a Champion in Business" by none other than the inimitable Earvin "Magic" Johnson (this appeared on my desk the other day with no inscription or explanation and I can only take it to be a practical joke...so if you happen to be the one that left it here, please solve the mystery and present yourself along with an explanation) and the second is a daily readings compilation from C.S. Lewis called "The Business of Heaven." Magic Johnson is not the inspiration for today's entry, by the way...

The Lewis quote centers on the idea of "Membership" and, more specifically, the Pauline / Christian meaning behind the word "member." I recommend you take a quick read through this link as a reference point:

http://tinyurl.com/ku7qfy

Maybe I'm pulling too much out of Lewis's text...or, far more likely, I am carrying way too much baggage into it! I think I am just hard-wired to assume, by default, that God is a generalist...and that the only battle in Christianity is the line that seems to be drawn somewhere between me in my seat and me kneeling at the altar - the "in or out" line of forgiveness that is the foundational cry of evangelical churches: come to the altar and you will be saved.

Not that this foundation isn't critical...but there are after-effects that can sometimes linger when we allow ourselves to be identified simply as "in" or "out." Such a simplistic valuation lends itself to the very definition that Lewis is, I think, rallying against: the unfortunate idea that we are generic 'units' in God's economy.

We are not generic. We are not units. We are not simply one more chip on an othello board turned from black to white. We are individual and important and even critical to His plans. We have a role to play that is exclusively ours. Not that God's will depends upon us, but we are invited to play our part in uniquely fulfilling His will...His plans.

Even more important, I think, is this idea that the body of Christ suffers damage when it loses a member. I don't mean this like the body of Christ is cumulatively 100% and then drops to 99%...I mean it in the sense that losing my pinky-toe impacts my ability to maintain balance and to fully function in the manner I was created to be. And, to me, the idea of "losing a member" isn't about death or distance - it is about letting our brothers and sisters in Christ be taken out by the enemy...or, worse, watching them slumber and allowing them to continue to sleep (the ultimate and most successful of Satan's attacks).

Man, that's like trying to walk when your leg is asleep - or waking up with your arm dangling limp at your side and trying to make coffee!

The promise and hope of Christ is freedom. Out of the pulpit I tend to hear incrimination..."why aren't you free - why aren't you pursuing - why aren't you being more?" (This is not an indictment of my pastor, it is an indictment of my ears.) Among my group of brothers I tend to hear..."I wish he could be free - I hope his heart comes alive - I would love to see him experience this better." Sounds better, doesn't it...but it is still about that person, that "other," and not about "us" as a whole.

What I guess I hear Lewis saying here is that our motivation needn't be purely altruistic because it isn't just about having a good heart for others...it's about having a heart to see the entire body healed! It's about realizing that every individual member, EVERY INDIVIDUAL MEMBER, must become fully alive and functioning and playing his or her part. Otherwise we all suffer.

Lets say I read this morning that 7 soldiers were killed yesterday in Afghanistan. I can make note of that fact. I can, perhaps, mourn that statistical loss. I can even add it to a running total of soldiers "lost" in the war effort this month, this year...this war. But, somewhere in Afghanistan, a patrol is adapting to overcome the loss of a real person who provided unique value to their collective objective. Men are adapting to that specific loss and its impact on their ability to function. Heck, leaders are likely requisitioning new people with similar skills because they can't stop doing whatever that soldier was doing, but they don't have that soldier -- that 'member' of their team -- available to do what they need anymore!

You see...if this idea of "membership" in Christ is more than just an "in" or "out" proposition, I am forced to operate under the assumption that members of the body MUST be fully functional or I CAN NOT FULFILL my role in the body, either. Seems like God would cover this somehow in the bible...oh wait, see 1 Corinthians 12.

So...do I want to see men come alive in Christ and experience the freedom He has to offer? Yes I do. For their sake...and for mine.

Strength and Weakness

I attended my first men's breakfast recently - my first at this church, I mean. I've done a terribly good job of being distant and unengaged at my church - particularly among the general congregation. The senior pastor and I have a good relationship and I'm on familiar enough terms with many...but many more I wouldn't know the names of or wouldn't connect names to faces, if I were pressed.

I think this stems from my experiencing such dramatic transformation among the small group of men I have come to know and trust well...and the fact that none of them attend my church. Its unfortunate that I find myself unwilling to extend similar trust and risk among others whom I see every Sunday (well, many Sunday's at least). I am, to an extent, working to change that by the way.

As breakfast ended and we came to the time of announcements and the morning's agenda, our pastor was called upon to kick things off. He is better than I at maintaining the daily devotional according to our published "read the bible in a year" schedule and chose a verse he'd read that morning (I believe) to remind us of our need to lift one another up: "We who are strong ought to bear with the failings of the weak and not to please ourselves. Each of us should please his neighbor for his good, to build him up," Romans 15:1-2. His message, generally speaking, was a reminder that we who are strong in Christ should look for opportunities to lend our strength to others who may be weak. He also alluded to the concept that we are each, individually, both weak and strong at different times in our lives and, potentially, in different circumstances. So, in relationship, we are called upon to offer strength into another man's weakness knowing that we might one day be leaning on the strength of others even as we come to feel weak.

I agree. Though I found myself thinking of another concept having to do with strength and weakness...one that had me searching through the Bible in hopes that I wasn't completely unsupported by scripture in this idea: God is made strong in my weakness. Turns out, Eureka! and Hallelujia! that I am not completely off-book (although it was probably a song lyric that I remembered moreso than a scripture reference, to be honest). 2nd Corinthians 12:9 has Paul saying, "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.'"

For me "power" and "strength" are somewhat synonymous (though we could certainly go down a long path differentiating the two) and so I find myself caught between two verses having to do with strength and weakness...one in which I am called to be strong and the other in which I rejoice in God's strength made perfect when I am weak. So, if God's power is made perfect in my weakness and I am called to be strong in the midst of another man's weakness...what am I to make of that!?

I believe God is a God of relationship and that He utilizes His people in the midst of circumstance to deliver on His promises. I believe that genuine relationship among, well, "believers" requires genuine risk and that genuine risk requires our willingness to be genuinely weak. We are not the hero's of our stories - we are victims and perpetrators and the greyness within which we live, while sometimes revealing momentary and unique strength, is far more often a reflection of our deepest weaknesses and failings.

I believe that appearing weak is the most difficult thing for a man to do - and it is often only that: appearing. To be truly weak to the point of truly needing another - any other, particularly a man or a father or a friend - may be the deepest and most compromising crack at the bottom of the dark chasm that separates us from God.

But...

There is incredible hope to be had, not in spite of this weakness but because of it! Among the men whom I trust and love I sometimes, though rarely, dare to be truly weak. In those moments I am begging for and requiring them to be stronger than I. Through that time, among believing men who are for me and for one another, I believe God gives these men His strength - inviting them to deliver on His pledge to perfect His power only in my weakness.

And so, in those transcendent moments, we are fulfilling through one another the promise of God to His people.