how do you know when you are part of a movement?

Last weekend my world was changed. I have been a Christian for 8 years and I would say that I have been pursuing God's purposes of changing the world for about 6 of those years. I have been to conferences, mission trips, staff training and seminars. I have read books, listen to sermons and podcasts. I have prayed to be used and I have thought long and hard about my philosophy of ministry.

In doing all of this I have often felt alive and motivated. There have been many times where I am excited about waking up in the morning. I also have often felt tired and burnt out. Sometimes I have dreamed about quitting and getting a job where I could wear a suit and simply not worry about God's work anymore. Don't get me wrong, I would still go to church. I would still tithe. Even still read Christian books. I just would no longer lend my heart and gut to some promise of God changing things. I would become a Christian who would just grin and bear the values around me. God could still have some of my time, but I have often wondered how long God could have access to my passion. At times I have often felt too tired to be disappointed again.

This all sounds very hopeful, huh? Well, it's real. This is how I have too often felt in the past 6 years. I do ministry full time, but unfortunately I am often leading out of a passion that is simply drawing from a past well. I entered last weekend in this kind of place. I wasn't sure that I really had anything less to give God, to give ministry. I felt dead inside, but was supposed to talk to the students that I work with about life. I felt like a hypocrite and like a fraud. As I prayed for our winter conference (Jesustherevolution) I felt like God was saying "this is going to the beginning of something". Could I dare to believe that? Could I dare to hope? The answer was "no". I came into last weekend with a word from God and absolutely no hope that anything could happen, that anything would change. I secretly hoped that I could simply fade away from full time ministry, get a job and be glad that I had been able to give a few years to something bigger than myself.

But something funny happened; I now believe that last weekend was the beginning of something real and something new that Jesus is doing in the northwest and at the University of Idaho.

Saturday night has long been the crying night at InterVarsity conferences. The speaker says something powerful. People cry. We then all worship together. The script is set and can easily be predicted. This Saturday night though, was not about tears, it was about life and the life of being part of a movement that God is doing. Our speaker (Trent Sheppard, google his sermons and hear a prophet speak) read the "Vision" of the 24-7 Prayer movement and invited us to stand whenever we felt "something". That something for me started in my gut and resonated through my whole body.

I cried.
I stood.
I was able to hope again.

The room was electric. It wasn't a room of weeping or feeling guilty. I was a room where 250 people just became missionaries in a moment (yes I realize that word has negative connotations, but all can be redeemed). The living, breathing, powerful, immense God just called His people to pray and serve Him in a radical and new way. And I think that we said "yes".

As I am writing this my hands are shaking. I don't think this is a response to last Saturday night, but instead to God's continued work of revival in my soul. I feel so utterly alive, so utterly real right now. I want God. I want His presence all the time. Even more so, I want my generation to meet the author of their lives, their passions, their desires. I want to see God move so desperately it hurts. I want to see something deep and real inspire and change the world.

So I am praying again. I am praying the way that I did in the Youth Room at La Villita in Chicago, the way Eli and I prayed in China until late at night and then again early the next morning. Students at U of I are also praying. We have gotten the crazy idea that we can do it for a month straight, 24-7. My basement is full of candles, Bibles, lights, and a giant wooden cross. It is time to pray!

This is happening all over the world. Go to http://www.24-7prayer.com/, read the stories let God speak to you. I really could care less if you are a Christian or not, take the risk and ask why 20 somethings in every corner of the globe have begun to pray.

I do worry that I am not really part of a movement. I worry that I am so hungry to be part of something bigger than myself that I will latch onto anything. I worry that it is not really staff work to spend 2 or 3 hours a day in prayer room. I worry when I start a facebook group that has 50 members to pray, but 6 or 7 people are actually signing up to pray.

What is a movement and what is a good idea? What's the difference?

The difference is marked down the line. Honestly you can't tell the difference in the moment, it can only be judged in historical perspective. When you are in the midst of something, it is nothing but faith that keeps you going.

In spite of my worries, in faith I have to believe that God wants to catch up this generation in a movement that will start in wild, crazy, obsessive prayer then will lead to...who knows?

I feel too alive to play it safe. I feel to alive to build a net if we fall. Someday we will all know if this is a movement or a good idea. As for today, I choose to believe that it is time to pray.

Here is the "Vision" as it was scrawled on a prayer room wall by Pete Greig in England at 3 AM:

THE VISION

So this guy comes up to me and says "what's the vision? What's the big idea?" I open my mouth and words come out like this… The vision?

The vision is JESUS – obsessively, dangerously, undeniably Jesus.

The vision is an army of young people.

You see bones? I see an army.

And they are FREE from materialism.

They laugh at 9-5 little prisons.They could eat caviar on Monday and crusts on Tuesday.They wouldn't even notice.They know the meaning of the Matrix, the way the west was won.They are mobile like the wind, they belong to the nations. They need no passport.. People write their addresses in pencil and wonder at their strange existence.They are free yet they are slaves of the hurting and dirty and dying.What is the vision ?The vision is holiness that hurts the eyes. It makes children laugh and adults angry. It gave up the game of minimum integrity long ago to reach for the stars. It scorns the good and strains for the best. It is dangerously pure.

Light flickers from every secret motive, every private conversation.It loves people away from their suicide leaps, their Satan games. This is an army that will lay down its life for the cause.A million times a day its soldiers
choose to loosethat they might one day winthe great 'Well done' of faithful sons and daughters.

Such heroes are as radical on Monday morning as Sunday night. They don't need fame from names. Instead they grin quietly upwards and hear the crowds chanting again and again: "COME ON!"

And this is the sound of the undergroundThe whisper of history in the makingFoundations shakingRevolutionaries dreaming once againMystery is scheming in whispersConspiracy is breathing…This is the sound of the underground.

And the army is discipl(in)ed.

Young people who beat their bodies into submission.

Every soldier would take a bullet for his comrade at arms. The tattoo on their back boasts "for me to live is Christ and to die is gain".

Sacrifice fuels the fire of victory in their upward eyes. Winners. Martyrs. Who can stop them ? Can hormones hold them back?Can failure succeed?

Can fear scare them or death kill them ?
And the generation prays like a dying manwith groans beyond talking,with warrior cries, sulphuric tears andwith great barrow loads of laughter!Waiting. Watching: 24 – 7 – 365.
Whatever it takes they will give: Breaking the rules. Shaking mediocrity from its cosy little hide. Laying down their rights and their precious little wrongs, laughing at labels, fasting essentials. The advertisers cannot mould them. Hollywood cannot hold them. Peer-pressure is powerless to shake their resolve at late night parties before the cockerel cries.
They are incredibly cool, dangerously attractive inside.

On the outside? They hardly care. They wear clothes like costumes to communicate and celebrate but never to hide. Would they surrender their image or their popularity? They would lay down their very lives - swap seats with the man on death row - guilty as hell. A throne for an electric chair.

With blood and sweat and many tears, with sleepless nights and fruitless days, they pray as if it all depends on God and live as if it all depends on them.
Their DNA chooses JESUS. (He breathes out, they breathe in.)Their subconscious sings. They had a blood transfusion with Jesus. Their words make demons scream in shopping centres.Don't you hear them coming? Herald the weirdo's! Summon the losers and the freaks. Here come the frightened and forgotten with fire in their eyes. They walk tall and trees applaud, skyscrapers bow, mountains are dwarfed by these children of another dimension. Their prayers summon the hounds of heaven and invoke the ancient dream of Eden.

And this vision will be. It will come to pass; it will come easily; it will come soon.How do I know? Because this is the longing of creation itself, the groaning of the Spirit, the very dream of God.

My tomorrow is his today. My distant hope is his 3D.

And my feeble, whispered, faithless prayer invokes a thunderous, resounding, bone-shaking great 'Amen!' from countless angels, from hero's of the faith, from Christ himself. And he is the original dreamer, the ultimate winner.

Guaranteed.

discipline

"Fasting kicked my butt. I went into this chapter, still focusing on the previous chapter. I honestly have never had good experiences with fasting, I usually get too obsessed and prideful about weight loss and physical appearance. Recently though, I have felt God challenging me in my discipline and character. Seemingly, God has been showing me the connection between my discipline and character weaknesses. I think that my weakness in doing the things of God is directly proportional to my inability to resist evil. Not being able to stay committed to daily silence, keeps me from tearing away from my house to get to campus. Weakness in my own scripture study, contributes to me procrastinating on prepping Bible study and large group talks."

The above is from a journal entry for Practicum class. My reading on fasting today struck a nerve that has been permeating in my for awhile, where is the discipline in my life? I have some discipline, I work out 3-4 times a week, usually wake up between 8-9 AM...you know stuff like that. But spiritual discipline? I am pretty weak.

Ironically, this was not always so. My senior year of college I spent about one hour daily in prayer. For awhile it was great, but then it got very legalistic. If I missed my hour, I was wrecked with guilt, even though for the life of me I couldn't outwardly express any reason that God would be angry with me. My intern year with IV, I felt like God was actually calling me to cool it a little bit, so I did.

But now I am wondering if I have embraced my freedom too much. Am I tired, because I am spending too much time counseling others, without letting God check have input in my own heart? Am I without hope because I am not letting Jesus speak vision into my soul? Am I unwilling to create waves because without hearing Jesus say "I love you" I lack confidence? Do I have not, because I do not ask? Do I let fear separate me from God, because I forgot who He is?

I enter into discipline with great fear. I want to know God (at lead I think I do) but I do not want to let legalism back into my life. I enter in though, because I believe that the innermost parts of my soul are crying out for something eternal. I also believe the eternal God wants more of me.

funny thought from The Sports Guy

"One other bonus with Howard that nobody mentions: Because he's a devout Christian, even when he turns 35 in 2020, those will be Christian years -- he won't have any of that smoking-drinking-partying mileage on him, which means he could play at a high level until his early-40s (much like how Kurt Warner keeps chugging along at age 36)."
-Bill Simmons, ESPN.com http://sports.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?page=simmons/071218

Now that is funny.

I wish I had some clever insight on this, but I don't really. I am not sure that it is true is my deepest insight. His Airness played till nearly 40, and smoked some pretty intense cigars and Mark Sweeney of the Royals is one of the most outspoken Christians in Major League Baseball and he breaks down more often than my crappy Clearwire internet box. However it does raise an interesting question; if you were going to start a team, would rather have a "body is my temple" Christian player, or similarly talented wild man who will step on the throat of their opponent to win? Can a Christian step on the throat of an opponent? Can a Christian still follow Jesus and put a few smoking-drinking-partying mileage on themselves?

Interesting thought all around....

sports & race

This morning I went to a current events Sunday School class. This week's class was the story that came last week when a Golf Channel analyst suggested that the rest of the PGA Tour should "lynch" Tiger Woods in a back alley, as a strategy to catch up with the dominant Woods. Our class talked about this specific issue, this analysts subsequent suspension and whether we hold racist tendencies in our hearts. After listening to sports radio and television coverage about the incident over the course of the last week and having the conversation at church today, I am beginning to wonder if sports is the best venue for race discussion in the 21st century.

Whether you look at this incedent, the Don Imus controversy, the NBA dress code or the diminishing numbers of African-American baseball players, many of the meaningful conversations about race are happening not on CNN, but instead on ESPN. Of course this isn't anything new, Jackie Robinson integrated Major League Baseball in 1947, when Martin Luther King Jr was 18 years old. Sports is generally ahead of the social curve in terms of opportunities for minorities in the US, likely because sports are so result driven. While sports still remains behind in front office equality, one cannot forget just last year when Lovie Smith and Tony Dungy became the first two African-American coaches in the Super Bowl.

So why is sports leading the way in the conversation? I would argue because sports in probably the most integrated part of our society. It is ironic that my church would choose to talk about this controversy, since churches are possibly the LEAST integrated part of our society. Frankly the San Diego Padres have more experience walking the road of multi-ethnicity, than your pastor probably does. Schools tend to break up by ethnicity. Businesses often segregate themselves. Sports cannot. An NFL coach who doesn't want to work with non-white players will simply not be able to win, thus will not be able to work. Period.

Are sports perfect then? Nope. Not by a long shot. Many African-American players have drawn similarities between professional sports and slavery; they make the observation that while the players make money, the mostly white owners make so much more. When these players retire, they often cannot find jobs in these same organizations that they gave their bodies for. That is not a perfect system. The last calendar year has been marred by instances of racist comments first against the Rutgers basketball team, now against Tiger Woods. The NBA is facing the challenges that come when white people decide that they do not enjoy watching players who act too "street" (ie, too black).

No, not perfect...but the conversations are happening. There is value in that right? I think so, but I also think that for Christians who claim they want to be about racial reconciliation, this is an arena that we need to be in. These conversations are happening and they are happening on a very large and very influential stage. Are we part of it? Are we, the people who proudly acknowledge the depravity of all human hearts, present when people say that some athlete doesn't have a "racist bone in their body"? Are we there when Christian athletes like Deion Sanders are mocked because they don't act like white Christians, are we there? Or, are we in our segregated churches, talking to people like us. Hey, maybe we are too busy telling people to lay down the evils of sports or mourning all Sunday widows out there.

relief in defeat

The Seahawks are out of the playoffs.

The Cougars are not going to go undefeated.

So why do I feel pretty good this evening?

I think that it has something to do with some emotional detachment. I have been so busy defending the Seahawks from a skeptical national press and trying not to jinx the Cougs, it's nice not to have to get worked up for awhile. I can simply enjoy the Super Bowl. I can pay attention to the Cougars again in March. Mariners won't stress me out until April (though I am really pulling for them to make a run a Bedard). Whew...it's kind of nice to exhale.

I have always held out some dream to go into sports journalism. I really respect the hosts on ESPN Radio and like every other sports yahoo in America I will occasionally say to myself, "I can do that" (which is of course, debatable). Unfortunately, I am too much of fan to ever feign objectivity. So instead, I get myself too worked up and then get philosophical after defeat.

Hope you all enjoy the Conference Championships and the Super Bowl. I will be watching in total emotional freedom here in Moscow.

the gospel

Lately I have been growing tired of the word "gospel". Mind you, I am not tired of Jesus. I am not tired of Christianity. I am not tired of talking about the "good news" (the literal definition of gospel) of God becoming a man. I simply tired of the word.

How did I get here? Well, recently I was at InterVarsity's national staff conference and that is where I realized how I was feeling. The theme of the conference was not being "ashamed of the Gospel", which is something that apostle Paul talks about in his letter to the Romans. When I first saw this theme I cringed. Cringed! I felt so guilty. After all, my job is to be someone who communicates Jesus' offer of relationship and salvation to the world. I should love this theme. Yet I cringed.

I thought about my cringing later that day. I tried to identify what in the world was wrong with me. Then it finally hit me (or perhaps God did the hitting, I am not too sure) I am not tired of the gospel, I am tired of the connotations that I have with word, namely an oversimplified, one size fits all interpretation of Jesus' message.

Unfortunately, I am not sure that I have better definition of the gospel then a simplified one though. Is the good news that God became man? Is the good news that He died so that we don't have to? Is the good news that I can have relationship with God? Is the good news that whole world can have relationship with God? Is the good news that Jesus taught us to love the least among us? Is the good news that Jesus led His followers to talk about Him with gentiles (non-Jews), a necessary step for me and most people I know to be part of the Kingdom of Heaven? Is the good news heaven? Is the good news now? Is the good news Jesus' whole life and ministry? That would take a much longer blog post!

The good news of Jesus is so meaty, so multi-layered, so frickin confusing and so beautiful. I have given my life to it. I have been redeemed by it. I have seen it transform people that I love. I have seen destroy my pride more times than I can count. I want the world to know and more importantly, experience this amazing good news and really interact with God. At least I know that I am not ashamed of that.

self awareness

So I am back in the blogging world. Blogging again is kind of a New Year's Resolution of sorts. I have realized that when I don't blog stuff seems to just pile up inside of me and I am less honest with myself and in turn the rest of the world. To top all of that off, I tend to not blog (or even do the old fashioned journaling) when I feel like I have nothing to say. Unfortunately, when I get out of the habit of thinking about what is going on in my life, I have less to say. It is a vicious cycle.

So I am back. Unfortunately, I really don't have much to say for this first of (hopefully) many 2008 blogs. I am in St. Louis for InterVarsity's National Staff Conference so I should have a lot to chew on over the next couple of days.

Talk to you soon.

what hold does depression have on us?

Why do we hurt ourselves? Why do we kill ourselves? Why do we dream of death?

Is it psychological issue? Do we have too few shrinks?

Is it a chemical issue? Do we have too few pharmacies?

Is it a spiritual issue? Do we simply need more pastors?

Is it a loneliness issue? Do we need to start to be nice to each other?

I don't know, I simply am lost on this issue. I want to have words, I want to have something that I can say that will prevent kids from cutting. I want to have something to pray that will stop college aged suicide. I want to have breathing exercises that will remove the need for drugs.

But I don't.

I know that we were created to live, yet so many of us choose to die. And I think that it is getting worse.

Please pray for my friends. Too many are going down the path injuring and trying to kill themselves. Pray that life would come in and defeat death.

Pray for your friends. I know that I am not alone in having people I love standing on the ledge.

Pray for life.

boondock saints

I just got done watching Boondock Saints. I am still wondering about what the implications of this movie. I know that it is about the most popular movie on college campuses these days. I am still wondering what that means. So while I am working on this, I am wondering what whoever is reading this thinks. If you have seen the movie please let me know what you thought!

created in His image

What if I saw Him in you?

What if you were not the guy who cut me off,

The woman falling out her top,

The politician I don't agree with,

Or the cop who gave me a ticket?

What if you were not the teacher I respect,

The woman who gave birth to me,

Or the man who baptized me?

What if you were not the porn star I used to Google,

The musician I worshiped,

Or the friend I got high with?

What if you were His?

Made in His image,

Given His gifts,

Blessed with His love?

After all,

You are.

convert me

I want the best. I want to read the best books, watch the best movies, drink the best drink and eat the best food.

When I think that I have or know the best, I share it with all. Here is a scoop, Lumines is fantastic game, if you have a PSP, buy it! If you want to see the finest film I have ever seen, rent Shawshank Redemption, and for my money, Bucers (a Moscow coffee shop) is the best drip coffee I have ever had.

I also believe that Jesus Christ is God's only son and is God Himself. It is in Him and Him alone that all people have access to God.

My guess is that while Lumines, Shawshank and Bucers may of been statements that you agreed with or disagreed with, my claim about Jesus elicited a much stronger reaction. My question is, why? Obviously my statement about Jesus was stronger and ultimately more important than my taste in games, movies or coffee, so it is logical that feelings should be stronger about that belief. However, doesn't also stand to reason that I should be more excited and even forceful about my belief is Jesus than about coffee?

Sadly, this is not the case for me usually. See, like most people I am a natural evangelist. I evangelize for everything. Rarely are my opinions anything less than "epic" as Donan calls them. When I am excited about any new toy or song or movie I tell everyone about it. But I am shy about evangelizing in the name of Jesus. Why?

I think a lot of it has to do with my desire to not to offend people. I am afraid that people will fin me intolerant. Or irrelevant. Or just a jerk. The reality is that people may draw just those conclusions. After all, doesn't the old adage go, "don't talk about religion or politics in polite company"? It seems that to evangelize a religious viewpoint just isn't nice or polite. Shill your coffee instead!

I think I need to call BS on this old polite adage. How can I love anyone if I keep my mouth shut about what I believe to be most important? If I believe that the God of the Universe is really interested in saving, loving and living in my closest friends, then someone explain to me how an offer of that is anything less than loving.

In 2004, my dad and I were on very different sides of the political fence. We both had deeply held beliefs about the presidential election, and for both of us, those beliefs were at least in part, rooted in our mutually shared Christianity. So did we do the "polite" thing and just be quiet for a few months? No we actually dialogued about the election and faith. Through a series of emails, my dad and I (in love) articulated our beliefs and though we never convinced each other of anything, we knew each other much better at the end.

A presidential election is very important, one of the most important events this earth offers. If there was such value in that dialogue, then how much more is there conversations about God? If God is real and has revealed Himself...isn't that important for all of us to wrestle with?

So I guess the point of this email is that there are more important things in the world than politeness. I want to invite all who are reading this to enter in to respectful dialogue with each other and those around us. If you are reading this and your beliefs are different than my own, I want you to not be afraid to talk to me and yes, even try and convince why I should smell what you are cooking. If you have read this thing, then you know my beliefs on a lot of things, if you think I am wrong, and you feel that I am wrong about something important, then love me by trying to correct me! If you are just curious as to why I said something, you can ask!

And really, try out Lumines, Shawshank and Bucer's drip. They are all really fantastic.

"come and see"

When Andrew first met Jesus, he inquired as to where Jesus was staying. Jesus responded by telling him to, "come and see". Andrew, with his companion did as Jesus said, they spent the whole day with him. After one day with Jesus, Andrew was so excited, that he found his brother Simon and told him that he had found the long promised Messiah. 

The next day, Jesus met Phillip and told him to follow. Phillip did as he was told. He was so impressed with Jesus, that he sought out Nathaniel. When he found Nathaniel he invited him to meet Jesus. When Nathaniel scoffed at Jesus' hometown, Phillip invited Nathaniel again. What was his invitation? He invited Nathaniel to "come and see". 

With Jesus it just seems to work that way. The invitation is rarely "sit and listen" or "read and learn". Scripture has no space for felt boards or even well-intentioned blogs. If you want to met or know Jesus, words never work. His miracles sound to wonky, his parables are clever, but not revolutionary on first listen (give em time...). Jesus needs to be met. He needs to be experienced. To get Jesus, you need to "come and see". 

I confess that I like clever words. I like books. I like apologetics. I get excited by well-written sermons and good post-modern Christian literature. But I am not a Jesus follower for any of these reasons. I did not chose to allow Jesus to be my teacher because someone finally explained away the problem of evil, or convinced me that I truly had free will. I chose to follow Jesus because I came and saw Him. I prayed and I met Him. I worshiped and I felt His presence. As I studied His biography, something tugged at me that was not at all intellectual. When I feel far from Jesus now, no amount of conversation or study can match simply "being" with Jesus. 

John 1 (where I got the stories above) is short on fireworks. But we see some intangible something about Jesus. These men simply spend a day with Jesus and their entire lives change. They become disciples. 

So if you are reading this today I invite you to "come and see" Jesus. Go to church on Sunday, you can sit in the back if you want. Read a gospel, or as much as you can right now. Stop reading this blog and simply say "Jesus, if You're there I want to come and see You", then simply start talking about your day and wait to see if He responds. Let's face it, if Jesus won't meet with us, then I have dedicated my life to a fraud. But I bet, if we go to see Him, He will show up to meet with us. 

lost in a cloud

As I am writing this blog I am listening to The Transfiguration by Sufjan Stevens. The song ends by repeating: 

Lost in a cloud a voice: Have no fear! We draw near!

Lost in a cloud, a sign: Son of Man! Turn your ear!

Lost in a cloud, a voice: Lamb of God! We draw near!

Lost in a cloud a sign: Son of Man! Son of God!

The cloud being referenced is the cloud hiding the face of the Father, when He spoke of Jesus, to Peter, James and John on a mountainside. Jesus has just stood along side Moses and Elijah (Israels two greatest leaders/prophets) and was transfigured from a lowly carpenter into a the Lord in all His glory. 

I have read this story since I was a child, but Stevens has helped me go somewhere else. I have always stayed on the surface of the story; Jesus has been revealed as Lord, He is greater than Israel's prophets and is being affirmed by the Father. I felt very intelligent when I first put together that God's glory had been personified as a cloud during the Jews time wandering the dessert. It all fit so neatly, Jesus is clearly the greatest of all Jews, the messiah, God Himself. 

This is all true. 

But the cloud never meant a thing to me. It's just a cloud. 

This is no ordinary cloud though. This cloud engulfs them (Matthew 9:34), they are as Stevens puts it "lost in a cloud". 

I have grown obsessed with this song and as result, this piece of scripture over the past week. I want to be lost in that cloud. I am tired of the rest of the world. I am tired of my questions, my doubts, my responsibilities. I want to be in the cloud. I want to be engulfed in the presence of God. I want that foreboding cloud in the distance, the cloud that leads the way, to be close. 

wither

he is the vine, we are the branches

we are told to love, but we cannot

we are told to serve, but we want more

we are told to embrace the unembracable, but we shy away

he is the vine, we are the branches

we are told to love mercy, but we thirst for vengence

we are told to turn the other cheek, but we fear pain

we are told to be humble, but we want to know

he is the vine, we are the branches 

we are told to wait, but we squirm

we are told to recieve, but we are proud

we are asked to be intimate, but we are ashamed

he is the vine, we are the branches

paul

My friend Paul is a great guy. People always need a Paul in their lives. Paul is a constant servant, he always makes time for people and he loves to do things for his friends. Some people simply want to tell you how much they like you, or perhaps more telling, they want to convince you that they really are good people. Paul isn't like that, Paul will work his fingers to the bone to show you that he loves you.

Paul is not a well educated guy. He is not a professor or a theologian. He loves Jesus, but isn't all that interested in trying to tell other people the answers. Paul has never really figured out to condemn people...maybe his life has something to do with that.

Paul you see, in an alcoholic. For years he drank too much. Maybe it had something to do with seeing too many war-time duties. Paul never knew how to discern when he had too much, of course until the day he decided not to drink anymore. Never had a drop after that.

Paul also smokes. He knows he should stop, but it's a nasty habit you see. Besides, he already has the emphysema, so is it really worth stopping? Oh, and don't count on that emphysema thing keeping Paul from refinishing a table, painting a bathroom, building a garden or working on any other project that needs done.

Paul loves his wife, Bonnie. He talks about her all the time. She is the prettiest, smartest, most patient woman in the world, if you ask Paul. He cannot make it through a conversation without talking about Bonnie. Sadly, Bonnie passed away about three years ago, even though you would never know it by the way he talks about her.

Paul also loves the Raiders. I guess not anyone is perfect.

Paul just does things the right way, he doesn't know any better.

About eight months ago Paul took a job working at a church. He would be paid moderately, but he would be able to move out of his truck and into an apartment in the church. He took the job and did the right thing, and the right thing was to work hard. Despite his emphysema he got his jobs done, even if that meant working late into the night.

I don't know if Paul was working late last night when the shooter entered the church. He may have been working on one of his many projects. What I do know is where Paul was shot...in the church office. By the phone. Paul made a choice and it wasn't to hide in his well hidden apartment. Paul chose instead, to make for the office, for the phone. Paul never made the call he tried to make. He was shot too soon for that.

Paul did, however, die as he lived. He died doing things the right way.

My friend, enjoy your new life without emphysema. Enjoy your new life without loneliness. Keep living the right way.

I love you.

a call to live

I have a confession for everyone... I am bored.

Bored, bored, bored.

I am bored of overly choreographed worship. I am bored of TV. I am bored with DVD's, video games, even (just a little bit) with sports.

All of it simply reeks of familiarity, it feels like I have seen it or experienced all too many times before. I want live an abundant life, but somehow, somewhere I have settled for a redundant one.

But I have to ask; does anyone really have the answer to that which ails me? Really? Is there anyone out there, any real saints or real sinners who can tell me what it means to truly live?

I have tried pretty hard a more worldly route. I have drank nights away, with only slight recollections to tell me what I missed the morning after. But those nights rarely ever led to any epic life giving morning. They were depressingly like each night that came before them. The script remained the same: Drink. Smoke something that would have me coughing for two days. Tell all my friends how much I loved them (which was very true, though I only seemed capable to say it when intoxicated). Hit on some girls. Abuse myself with a cookie sheet, a bush, or occasionally a lighter and then go to bed somewhere I never intended to. Repeat.

Is that really an epic or abundant way to live? I craved stories, something that would impress others, or make me some sort of legend. However, most those nights filled no real hole, except a legit desire to see my buddies.

But do Christians really offer a better path? As a Christian male I know that an entire Christian industry has formed around a basic acknowledgment that we are bored by Christianity. For awhile I found a lot of satisfaction in that industry, but I am no hunter or camper. I have lots of friends who are not Christians who feel manly out in the woods. I don't. I have to believe that Christ's promise of an abundant life still applies to me, as wussy as city life has made me.

Recently I thought that maybe abundant life would meet me if I took better care of my body, if I could simply do away with all of the pesky insecurities of the way I look, then life would suddenly grow easier and more exciting. So I changed the way I eat and started working out. Next thing I knew I weighed 40 pounds less and could run longer and play sports better then I ever had before. Surely life feels more abundant now! Nope. I am still me and perhaps that is the problem.

In reality I do want to be part of some epic story, the heart of what I was looking for when I would get wasted and use my hand for kindling. I do want to be part of an adventure, just not one in the woods. Furthermore I am correct in seeing that insecurity is holding me back. Unfortunately insecurity cannot be healed by looking good in facebook pictures.

Today is the day after Easter. Today is the first day to follow the resurrection of Jesus. For many of us, the resurrection of Jesus doesn't represent anything more than a fancy type of fire insurance, some guarantee that hell is not in our immediate future. I am banking that it means something more. I am banking that it represents a new way to live our lives. Life without nagging insecurities. Life that takes place in the midst of some epic story. Life that offers adventures and challenges that dare us to be more than we thought we can be. I need to live like Jesus' resurrection ultimately gives me an opportunity to fail. By fail I mean shoot higher and farther than I could if what I did depended on me and now that death (or boredom, they feel the same to me) is only temporary and that life really can be eternal.

I want to invite anyone who reads this to come along with me. If you are bored with church, your lifestyle or your own pesky internal monologue, let's live resurrected lives!

silence

iPods, laptops, elevator music, car CD players, generic muzak... is there anywhere that you can go for a little silence these days?

And if there were, would we actually want it?

This week I was at a staff retreat and we spent one day taking three separate SILENT retreats. I was forced to spend 6 hours quiet for one day. SIX HOURS?! How did I survive?!

Quite well, actually.

I heard from Jesus. I dreamed for campus. I recognized how exhausted my body was. I saw beauty in the world around me. I mourned the way evil had rocked my life and the lives of those I love. I recognized bad patterns in my life and the way I use my time.

Without my mp3 player, March Madness or Spring Training I was forced to look at myself. Some of what I saw was ugly, some was beautiful, some was just downright hilarious.

Of course that was the point of the exercise and that is the role of silence in our lives.

So friends join me! Try taking some time each day to stop and be quiet.

what does a Christian look like?

Donan recently told me about a Bible study that she had where a woman in the study lamented that she didn't "look like a Christian".

Look like a Christian?

This has got me asking myself, what exactly does a Christian look like?

Well, if you watch a lot of TV, I suppose a Christian wears a lot of sweaters. You know, really tasteful ones. Oh, and khakis! I almost forgot the very well ironed khakis.

If you read Relevant magazine Christians dress really, really well. Tight shirts, emo pants, sports coats and trendy plastic rim glasses.

If you went the missions conference that I went to over Christmas break, you could buy all of the clothes that we were selling and look like a mission minded Christian!

If you hang out with me, mostly we wear t-shirts and jeans.

I am not making light of the question... in fact I think that it is a very important question. Is it wrong for Christian to look trendy? Sexy? Grungy? Should Christians spend a lot of money on good haircuts, or should that be spent on more important things?

What about at church?! In God's house should we dress up? Is it more authentic if we are more dingy in the presence of the Lord? Yesterday I wore orange and blue to church, a nod to the Chicago Bears, is this a sign of my idolatry, or a fun little riff that I was planning on wearing for the rest of the day?

This seems like a silly question I realize, but I am not sure that it actually is. I have seen this scene too many times, someone walks into a church and soon realizes they have violated some unspoken dress code. A college girl who is showing a little cleavage is all but ignored by the church, until a timid middle aged woman with a sweater buttoned up to her neck finally greats her. Awkwardness hangs over the conversation like a carport. Or a twenty something couple comes to church with their small child. All of them are dressed in their finest formal garb, unaware that this is a "cool church" where the congregation looks like they are following the Fray on tour.

Maybe Andre was right, "image is everything".

Or maybe not.

Jesus had quite a crew of groupies and I am sure they all dressed according to their roles, just like today. Think that the rich tax collector and the fishermen dressed alike? What about the prostitute and the religious zealot? Paul was one of the most respected religious teachers of his time and in those days the religious leaders tended to wear some pretty nice threads (sound familiar?), but after he gave his life over this subversive movement, he encountered a new church headed up by a fisherman! Quick, picture Billy Graham and you favorite fishing buddy. What do you think their closets look like?

Ultimately, I don't think that our church's are ever supposed to be full of similar looking people. The Kingdom of God is for everyone; cleavage, green hair, flannel, ties, holey jeans and bad perms be damned! When the unspoken rules of our culture start to dictate norms more than the word of God we have a problem. We need Jesus. His group of misfits worked, because He made it work.

What are we willing to lose to make it work?