Actively Waiting

Do you ever feel stuck? As an aviation and traveling aficionado, I can easily relate this feeling to itinerary disruptions. Kind of like you unwillingly find yourself in a holding pattern after a long flight, being exhausted and just ready to be home in bed. Or stuck on the tarmac because of inclement weather or a gate not ready for your arrival. Or upon landing, you receive a notification that your connecting flight was canceled.  If you’ve ever experienced it, it’s not a fun feeling. Especially when circumstances are out of your control and you’re at the mercy of air traffic control, weather, airline policies, etc. The anxiety can be palpable.

While I am not currently traveling but sitting in the comfort of my living room with coffee, I have felt stuck for a while. We (Rach and I) feel stuck. This summer we were presented with a vocational ministry opportunity that would have required relocation meaning another major transition. We could have pulled it off, there is no question about it. Essentially, the options on the table were moving away or staying put. As we navigated this decision making process, we sought out several trustworthy people and invited them into this conversation. One of whom raised an interesting point, “Relocating would be easy. It’s a new adventure. Staying would be more difficult as it requires patience as you continue to become rooted.” It’s not that we were opting for the path of more resistance, but in a sense it’s the one we ended up choosing in our decision to stay.

For a while, we have felt the tension between following Jesus and what we ultimately feel called to regarding “vocational ministry,” and doing what is necessary to make ends meet. Not that the two are necessarily mutually exclusive, but that’s kind of where we are currently. And maybe that’s the wrong way of thinking about our present circumstances. Our days consist of job searches, applications, an interview here and there. Our Sundays consist of worshiping at a Lutheran church and becoming accustomed to the rhythms of a worship service in that tradition. The week consists of drop-offs and pick-ups; meal planning and grocery runs; spending what sometimes feels like hours to prepare a meal that is devoured in 10 minutes, (or complained about) and then cleaning up; bed-time routines, laundry and rousing the kids for school again. And then of course the occasional medical issue which requires a visit to the doctor’s office, or even the hospital in some cases.

So, waiting for that right door to open. The calling to become clarified. Something to fall into place to meet immediate needs. Seeking to faithfully follow Christ. Navigating the rhythms of life and the interruptions. What is the Lord teaching us in this process? How to actively wait which I know can be frustrating. Time in God’s economy is very different from our own. More often than not, his work occurs at a much slower pace than we are accustomed to. But the waiting that we are called to is not passive. Continue to cultivate the relationships in your community, whether that be your church, CrossFit community, or an enneagram group and book club. Cultivate the rhythms and relationships of your family, whether that be your biological family, or the family that you have been welcomed into. Cultivate your hobbies whether that be gardening, woodworking, painting or cooking. Read and write, think and share. Make music or art. Use your gifts and skills to invest in the people and places where you presently find yourself. 

What are you waiting for? That phone call or email. An invitation to something. An invitation to somewhere. To find a community where you feel safe and known. To feel like you’re not in the grind for at least a day, a week, a month. Maybe you’re waiting for rest. Or for resolution to a conflict. Or for wars to cease. We all long for something, whether that is being known or even on a grander scale, the realization of the New Jerusalem. As we wait and long for resolution or fulfillment or the clouds to lift,  may we wait well. May we be well as we wait. May we look to the things around us that need to be done, no matter how repetitive or mundane. It’s challenging when you’re waiting to focus on the things in your peripheral vision. Let’s be honest, it’s sometimes easier to ignore them. But while you are waiting and following and trusting Christ in the process, may you be at peace in the present and be able to bring things into focus which lift your countenance and instill hope as you look to the future. Actively waiting, It’s not easy. It’s definitely not comfortable at times. But I’m convinced that really good things can emerge in those seasons and processes if we learn how to work and rest and have the eyes to see and the ears to hear where Christ is leading in the season of life we find ourselves.

The Sojourn

So we decided to change things up a little bit by “re-branding”  Thursday’s Thoughts as The Sojourn. I think that this idea of a sojourn captures the Christian life and our engagement with people and the places that Christ calls us to. Our life path has been anything but boring. We have experienced seasons of high-intensity and slower paces, feeling settled and connected to a place and community, then the sense of being uprooted and disoriented. As of late, the notion of this life as a sojourn has become a resonating reality for us. What I mean by that is primarily informed by a Christian perspective and also longings that transcend what we experience in this world. While our time on this earth  and in this life is temporary and fleeting, it simultaneously serves as a catalyst that calls for our engagement in the present with the people and places we find ourselves. Not to sound pessimistic or fatalistic, but the reality is that we don’t know the number of our days. While this thought could be sobering or even anxiety-inducing, it also can usher in perspective, enabling us to take stock of who we are and where we are, here and now, and also who we want to be.

Here and now for us, and probably you, is very different from what it was 5, 10, 15, 20 years ago.  We change as people. Our communities change. Our physical locations change. We are faced with the loss of those who are dear to us. We say see you later to close friends who are called off on new adventures. We welcome newcomers into our community. Maybe you have felt the awkwardness of entering into a new community or context, I sure have. Regardless of where we find ourselves in the present, this sojourn is continually evolving. We are constantly learning how to adapt to new life contexts. 

So then, what keeps us grounded in the present as we process the past and look towards the future as we continue on this sojourn? Or maybe a better question, if this life is temporal (and please don’t confuse temporality with meaninglessness), how do we locate our place and people, as we look toward our true home?

I think of Abraham who during his sojourn “was looking forward to the city that has foundations, whose designer and builder is God,”  who was “seeking a homeland,” (Hebrews 11:10, 15). Most of us are probably familiar with this passage and how it teaches us what faith looks like. But maybe you are unfamiliar with this. Bear with me, and don’t worry, I’m not going to dive into the historical and literary contexts of this passage (although it’s totally worthwhile). Rather, I want to think about from another approach.

It’s undeniable that there is a lot of pain and suffering in this life. It’s equally undeniable that there is an abundance of beauty and good. One of the many beautiful things about Christianity is the hope of the radical transformation of this world. Thus, we are not called to escapism but to be the cultivators of good things in our lives and the community that we call home. We are called to be cultivators of the Kingdom that we long for.

In his book The God of The Garden (which is phenomenal), Andrew Peterson shares what runs through his head as he falls asleep:

“I imagine myself crashing through the walls of the universe, where Time and Space are held like a book in the hands of Jesus. He shows me the ending with a gleam in his eye. ‘Behold, I’m making all things new.’

I wake and it’s morning and the sun has crested the hill and cast its yellow beams on the stone arch. I rise again to work and keep the garden, for I am kept by love.”

The love of Christ. His continual presence and devotion to his people. That is what sustains us on this sojourn, for the good work we are called to do, until the day when we arrive where we were always meant be, and become who we were always meant to be. The Time and Space where the sojourn is behind us and we are able to breathe and rest because there is nothing left to do. The work is finished. The sojourn is complete. I pray that the future reality that awaits the cultivators of God’s kingdom sustains and gives us the strength and perspective we need today, and in the days ahead.

The Way Forward

“There is so much more life in your front windshield than in your rear view mirror.” The first time that I heard this was listening to Andy Stumpf’s podcast, Cleared Hot. I regularly listen to it, and appreciate Stumpf’s and his guests’ perspectives. One of the common threads that run throughout the Cleared Hot episodes is perseverance in the face of adversity. Doing the good and often hard work that will benefit not only yourself but those around you. 

From conversations I’ve had and listened to, and primarily from my own experience, it’s easy to become fixated on the past. In the rear view mirror, we may be looking at the “Glory Days” as captured by the Bruce Springsteen song (and if you're anything like me, a reference to “The Boss” is forever connected to the “Crime Aid” episode of The Office, but I digress).  For most of us, those fond memories sometimes feel so tangible that when they are evoked by a scent, sound, conversation or whatever, we wish we could revisit that moment in time. Conversely, the past might be filled with traumatic events that feel impossible to escape from the pain that was caused which leaves you paralyzed. Whether consciously or unconsciously the past will always have a significant impact on our lives. But how often do we become fixated on that rear-view mirror, to the point where we will likely run the car off the road?

Even last night, I dreamed of returning to my old position as the Grounds Supervisor at Gordon-Conwell. It was a great season and I would be lying if I said I didn’t want my old job back. Then there are times when not-so-pleasant past experiences emerge, especially when that internal critic rears its ugly head. The bottom line for me, and for you is how we interact with the past. Does it leave us stuck? Does it cause us to want to recreate it? Does it cause us to want to run and hide? Or does it provide the motivation to move forward? And when we gain that forward momentum what sustains it/ us?

Moving forward can be challenging, and uncomfortable, but isn’t that what growth is? Seasons, circumstances, communities all change. We change. As Stumpf says, “progression is non-linear.” And the reality is that sometimes 1 step forward does equal 2 steps backward. The question is how do you respond when it feels like momentum has been lost? It happens. It will happen again and again. How do we regain that momentum? Take a breath, come up with a game plan, dust ourselves off and get back after it. Surround yourself with community that walks alongside of you on this journey.

Yes, you want to be aware of what’s behind you but you also want to focus on the wide expanse of the way that’s ahead of you. After all, isn’t that what Christ calls us to when he beckons us to follow him? One of the main emphases throughout Scripture is the call to remember. Remember what God has done in the past. Learn from the past. You have gained hard-earned wisdom and experience, hopefully. Use that to inform the journey ahead. Even if that journey takes place in valleys and on mountaintops, through storms and stillness, Christ continually beckons us to place our trust in him and put one foot in front of the other. I believe that this grounds us and helps us remain present. Don’t let the past rob you of the good stuff that is in front of you. Don’t let the past keep you from being present in the lives of those who care about you. So, don’t forget to breathe. Be patient with and kind to yourself in this thing called life. Join up with fellow sojourners. Keep looking through the windshield, continue to pursue growth, continue to pursue the good, true, and beautiful. You and those in your life will be better for it.

Growth: Recent Readings and Takeaways


 

The photo above shows some of the books I’ve read recently (and Dietrich). The books are as diverse as their authors. A CrossFit champion, an English farmer, a surgeon, another farmer from Kentucky, and a prominent thinker and media strategist. Of course, this is an oversimplification of who the authors are, but it kind of gives you the lay of the diverse landscape presented by their writings (I’ve included links below to get to know the authors a little better if that interests you).

But, there are threads of continuity that run through the entire stack. Patience. Endurance. Preparedness. Training. Trial and Error. Forethought. Disappointment. Grit. Resolve. Resilience. Wisdom. Folly. Success. Failure. Humility. Pride. Community. Family. Relationships. Place. The real stuff of life. Things which are crucial to our growth.

All these authors are of a very similar mindset of focusing on what is going to make you a better person, a more stable person, and in turn a stability that will have the potential to positively impact those around you.

As a Christ follower, while I read through these books, I’m simultaneously challenged and encouraged. These topics have so much overlap with the Christian faith, giving me a greater perspective and appreciation for the journey that I find myself on. As Paul encourages in his letter to the Galatians:

“And let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, if we do not give up.”[1]

Wherever you find yourself on your journey of growth, hang in there. Look to Christ. Surround yourself with people who bring out the best in you. Don’t grow weary of doing what is good, right, and noble. If you can do these things, no matter how incrementally small the steps may be, you just might begin to surprise yourself with who you begin to see in the mirror.

Wendell Berry: https://berrycenter.org/

Atul Gawande: http://atulgawande.com/

Mat Fraser: https://www.hwpotraining.com/








[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Ga 6:9.

Within or outside of your reach?

A friend and I were texting each other just to check in and he asked, “How are YOU doing?” It had been a rough few weeks. Rach had surgery, then she and all the kids had the flu for about a week and a half, and there were other monsters rearing their ugly heads. Miraculously, I was running at 100%, although a bit weary. My response to the question was that life was feeling dark, hard, and heavy. It’s not that I was feeling depressed or as if some internal battle was raging within me rather, it was an external battle, where I found myself fighting to keep the forces of chaos from getting the upper hand. I found myself fighting to illuminate the darkness and establish order. And at times, it felt like a losing battle.

 

In the last few days, I have been thinking through this notion of darkness and light, chaos and order, and the reality of a perpetual tug of war that we find ourselves caught in the middle of with these opposing realities. So then, what is the path forward? How do we gain the upper hand, especially when we feel like we are treading water all the while feeling that at any moment, one more thing could drag us into the abyss? How do we move forward when it feels like we can barely save ourselves, let alone others?

 

I have been on this journey of restoring the foundations of my life. When I say that, I am talking about my spiritual, physical, mental and emotional health. It is a process that takes time, but is work worth doing. In October of last year, I injured my shoulder. I wish I had a cool story to tell you, but no. I tweaked my shoulder by sleeping on it in a way that required physical therapy to recover full mobility of it. Welcome to your 40s, right?

 

Turning 40 in September caused me to think about where I’ve been, where I am, and where I am going. After some time of reflection, my conclusion came in the words of Jocko Willink, “Build or decay. The choice is yours.” I choose to build. Not just for my own sake, but for my family, my friends, and those who cross my path. I want to be the best version of myself for the sake of others. So, like any sane person does, I joined a CrossFit gym and community. As someone who struggles with social anxiety and feeling like everyone is watching me, not to observe my success but rather my failure, simply walking through the doors of a CrossFit gym produces a good case of heart palpitations. But I entered the gym and never turned back. And I’m becoming a holistically healthier person because of it.

 

I was processing through this with my counselor and the conclusion I arrived at was this: If I really want to help people, whether they are family, friends, or even strangers, I have to put on my oxygen mask first before I help someone else put their mask on. Only when it’s done in that order and the life-giving oxygen begins to flow, can any semblance of equanimity appear.

 

So this battle between light and darkness, chaos and order. What is your, my, our next move? The bad news, is that we are our own worst enemies and critics, and unable to save ourselves, let alone anyone else. The good news, there is someone greater who alone offers the salvation we seek, who is the light in the darkness, who establishes order out of chaos. I can’t help but think of the story of the storm on the Sea of Galilee, where Jesus is walking on the water and the testing of Peter’s faith:

 

28 And Peter answered him, “Lord, if it is you, command me to come to you on the water.” 29 He said, “Come.” So Peter got out of the boat and walked on the water and came to Jesus. 30 But when he saw the wind, he was afraid, and beginning to sink he cried out, “Lord, save me.” 31 Jesus immediately reached out his hand and took hold of him, saying to him, “O you of little faith, why did you doubt?” 32 And when they got into the boat, the wind ceased. 33 And those in the boat worshiped him, saying, “Truly you are the Son of God.” [1]

 

Peter’s rescue from imminent doom comes from the one who beckons all of us to get out of the boat and to follow him. Yes, I can establish order and illuminate the darkness in incremental steps, but there are circumstances which I have zero control over. I’m reminded of the Serenity Prayer:

 

“God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, courage to change the things I can, and wisdom to know the difference.”

 

Ultimately, it’s Christ who extends his hand and the forces of chaos part as he holds us fast to him and order emerges. Our path forward? Follow him, and focus on those steps no matter how small or large they may be, which help us build the best version of ourselves and contend for the best in others. Let us be faithful with what we are capable of and place our faith in Christ for the things that are out of our reach.

 

 




[1] The Holy Bible: English Standard Version (Wheaton, IL: Crossway Bibles, 2016), Mt 14:28–33.

"The weathering makes us what we are."

Recently I read a fantastic and thought-provoking book, The Shepherd’s Life by James Rebanks who reflects upon his family, upbringing, and life which revolves around the care of his family’s flock in the Lake District of Northern England. It is a gritty, honest, and beautiful look at the reality of what it takes to raise sheep in a region that is not for the faint of heart. There are moments of adversity and peace, loss and gain, beauty and ugliness, pain and comfort. There is a rhythmic aspect to his writing as the book is structured according to the seasons, summer, fall, winter, and concluding with spring. Towards the conclusion of the section on winter and the difficulties that season brings, Rebanks writes the following:

 

“I understand why people once worshipped the sun and had countless festivals to celebrate spring and the end of winter. It is this endurance in a place throughout everything that nature throws at it, year in, year out, that shapes our relationship with this place. We are weathered like the mountain ash trees that grow here. They bend away from the wind and are battered, torn, and twisted. But they survive here, through it all, and they belong here because of it. The weathering makes us what we are (Rebanks 2016, 233).”

 

Rebanks makes me think of what can be summed up in a single word, adversity. Based on your experience, the word adversity will likely have several very different connotations. I think that we could all agree that adversity is not pleasant. Furthermore, it is an inescapable reality. Yes, there are varying degrees to which we experience adversity on individual and collective levels, dependent upon our context. In these places of adversity, in what, in whom, do we find the motivation to continue the journey that we set out upon? What do we live for?

 

Winter doesn’t last forever, although at times it can seem to go on for an eternity. Or maybe it’s summer and your or my disdain for extreme heat and humidity. But one thing that time and even Scripture tells us, “For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under heaven (Ecclesiastes 3:1; c.f. 3:2-8).” Furthermore, there is a beautiful picture in Scripture where the people who follow Christ are likened to trees which are sustained in, through and by him (c.f. Psalm 1:3; Isaiah 61:3). I can’t help but think of Christ crucified upon the cross, who bears the literal marks in his resurrected body of what he did in our place for our sins, so that one day, the eternal season of rest and the enjoyment of the fullness of the presence of God may be realized. He promises to make all things new, and He who promises is faithful. Until then, we are called to endure in the place and season to which we are called. What is it that helps you hold fast when adversity hits, and sometimes hits hard? I am not advocating seeking out adversity, but rather a change in perspective, that adversity is not the end of the story, but it is in integral part of it. “The weathering makes us what we are.”

“So you live for those little signs that you’ve outlasted it, the point when the days lengthen in March or April and the days eventually warm up, the fields turn marginally greener, and the sheep suddenly lose interest in the hay as the grass begins to grow (Rebanks 2016, 233).”

 

Cultivated for the Kingdom: Part 2

Cultivated for the Kingdom: Part 2

For the past couple of years, I (Scott) have found myself in this place that can be best summarized by the lyrics of “The Sower’s Song,” by Andrew Peterson:

Oh God, I am furrowed like the field

Torn open like the dirt

And I know that to be healed

That I must be broken first

But I am aching for the yield

You will harvest from this hurt

Abide in me

Let these branches bear your fruit

Abide in me

As I abide in you

So I kneel at the bright edge of the garden

At the golden edge of dawn

At the glowing edge of spring

When the winter's edge is gone

And I can see the color green

I can hear the sower's song

Abide in me

Let these branches bear You fruit

Abide in me, Lord

Let Your word take root

Remove in me

The branch that bears no fruit

And move in me, Lord

As I abide in You

I turned 40 this month which has been the impetus for a lot of introspection and reflection, but looking forward also. In my counselor’s office there is the following quote:

“You can't go back & change the beginning, but you can start where you are and change the ending.” (Often attributed to C.S. Lewis, but there are objections to the proposed source. I don’t know whom this quote originated with but I really like it.)

Living in a highly agricultural region, the seasons seem to revolve around the work that needs done in the fields, orchards, and vineyards. This process of cultivation, it’s not easy. It’s hard work but hard work worth doing. I believe that it’s a both/and process that takes a lifetime. There’s not a MiracleGro solution when it comes to following Christ and being cultivated by the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. There are seasons and there is the ebb and flow to those seasons. We are all works in progress right? The same goes for the cultivation of our intrapersonal and interpersonal awareness, skills and relationships.

Part of being cultivated for the Kingdom is the sovereign and merciful work of God. My 3 yr. old son has been fixated on us as humans; the word, the concept, the reality, and he has been asking regularly, “Dad, why did God make humans?” He’s less concerned with the process of the how but the why. There is this deep longing within him to understand and explore the realities of our existence. He’s obsessed with the deeply complex stuff of life, and Spider-Man of course. Not only are we an intended result of God’s creative work, but we are only at the beginning of the understanding of God’s involvement in our lives and how the work takes place.

I’m convinced that one of the reasons that God came to us in the flesh in the person of Jesus Christ, was to show us the way forward in navigating the complexities in life. His comforting presence to the lost and hurting (physically, emotionally, mentally, spiritually), the way he dealt with injustice, the way he dealt with individuals, crowds, and the disciples too, provides a glimpse of what it looks like to follow the Good Shepherd, the Carpenter, the Gardner, the one in whom the fullness of God was pleased to dwell.

It’s through this journey of following Christ that we began to experience and see his patient, cultivating work occurring in our lives and the lives of others. And let’s be honest, we all need that work and need to simultaneously cultivate our own hearts towards God, ourselves and others.

I recently read the collection of essays, What Are People For? by Wendell Berry (you would do well to read any/ all of his writing). It’s deeply anthropological and something that is resonating with me regarding how I view myself and others, and how I care for myself and others. As a Christian, these aspects of existence are informed by my faith. So this season that I find myself in, the season that you find yourself in, how do we engage in that process of the cultivation of our faith and the outworking of it? It’s still something I am working out while being an extremely busy stay-at-home-dad, husband, etc. There is beauty in the ordinary and maybe it’s through the ordinary stuff of life that good and beautiful things take root and begin to flourish. And you know what, I believe that it’s in those and the most unexpected places that God’s cultivating work in our lives takes place and the kingdom of God grows.

Onward and upward friends.



Cultivated for the Kingdom

For a while now, I’ve had a ruminating thought about the work of God in my life and the lives of others. I suppose that this thought might be best expressed through an obscure but a strikingly profound reference to Jesus when he encounters Mary Magdalene in the garden, outside of the empty tomb from which he had emerged upon his resurrection:

Christ and St. Mary Magdalen at the Tomb, by Rembrandt



15 Jesus said to her, “Woman, why are you weeping? Whom are you seeking?” Supposing him to be the gardener, she said to him, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have laid him, and I will take him away.” 16 Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned and said to him in Aramaic, “Rabboni!” (which means Teacher), John 20:15-16 (ESV).



“Supposing him to be the gardener.” Is this just a case of mistaken identity or is there something that the text is whispering to those who have ears to hear? I believe it’s the latter. One of the primary ways that Jesus communicated was in the form of parables which contained profound truths about the kingdom of God and what it looks like to follow Jesus and be in the world but not of the world. Many of those parables employed agricultural metaphors and similes. Their function, in my view, was to be a stumbling block to the hard hearted and an open door to those who were seeking. And by the way, have you ever noticed that parables are absent from John’s gospel? If you have noticed, have you thought why that might be?

Rachael recently preached on the parable of the sower from Luke 8:1-15. If you’re not familiar with it, the parable is an agricultural one about sowing seed and soil conditions necessary for the seed to take root and eventually flourish. Jesus explains that seed is God’s word and the soil is the condition of the heart. It’s interesting that between the telling and explanation of the parable is call that is central to understanding and following Jesus, “Whoever has ears to hear let him hear.” There is this aspect of the parables and the truth that they contain that at times is puzzling and transcends human knowledge and wisdom while simultaneously incorporating the stuff of everyday life.

Looking at Jesus’s ministry, it is primarily the religious leaders that rejected Jesus and the message he proclaimed, largely in part due to their expectations of who the people of God are and what the kingdom of God looks like and who they thought the Christ would be. Over and over again it is their hardness of heart, and spiritual deafness and hardness of heart.

So back to John’s gospel and the absence of parables. I had never thought much about it until I was taking a class on the Biblical Theology of the New Testament. My professor raised this question and all of us were silent and probably searching for the right answer or hesitating to respond in case it might be a trick question. One student responded “Jesus is the parable.” A stumbling block to the hard hearted and an open door for the seeker.

Mary Magdalene and Jesus. Luke makes it clear in his gospel that this woman who was most likely a Gentile, formerly demon-possessed but liberated by Jesus, and possibly a former prostitute, this Mary was one of the few who had ears to hear what Jesus was saying. She was present at his death (when Jesus’s disciples and friends had fled), present at his burial, and the first to encounter the resurrected Christ. She was a firsthand witness to the mysterious reality of the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of the heart. The Kingdom for the broken, weary, and suffering where they are welcomed and made whole. The Kingdom that is now but not yet. The Kingdom whose king is a carpenter, a shepherd, even a gardener, fully God and fully man. The Kingdom where all will be made whole.

Mary whose heart had been cultivated by the gardener who encountered her at the tomb in the garden, had ears to hear and a ready heart so that when he called her by name, she knew exactly who it was that was speaking.

It’s my prayer that my heart and your heart and the heart of those who have not heard the call of Christ, may be cultivated by him so that his word might take root in our lives. May we be known as cultivators of the kingdom in our families, our homes and communities. Let us like Mary, have ears to hear, eyes to see and a heart to see God at work in this world.

“The Sower’s Song” song by Andrew Peterson has meant much to me over the last couple of years. May it encourage, comfort and strengthen you.



Where Can We Go With All Our Questions?

Under the Banner of Heaven

Last weekend, we watched the mini-series Under the Banner of Heaven, which is a true crime show based on the book of the same title by Jon Krakauer. It’s a story of a brutal murder that occurs in a Mormon community and of one of the protagonists, Detective Jeb Pyre, who is also a Mormon experiencing a crisis of faith as he investigates the murder. Now, as a disclaimer, I have not read Under the Banner of Heaven, yet, nor have I done any research regarding Mormonism. That being said, Rach grew up in a community which was predominantly Mormon, and there were many things in the show which she attested to as accurate from her experience having grown up with friends who were Latter Day Saints.

There were a variety of elements of the show that were, I suppose you could say “triggering,” based on some of our personal experience and from the stories others have shared with us from working and serving in Christian ministry. Thus, aspects of the show oddly resonated with us. One of these aspects is asking the hard questions about faith and the church. In the show, there is this theme of when someone is asking questions about their faith, they are told that those questions should be left on the shelf.

Why are we so threatened by the asking of questions?

Are we afraid to ask questions?

How do we respond when someone asks us a question about Christianity?

Where can we go with our questions?

Asking questions is a good thing. It is one of the primary ways in which we learn and begin to understand the world around us. It is how we grow, maybe even mature. Throughout the Bible, you see many people seeking to understand God and his ways, the state of the world, and how to find their way to God in the midst of everything. From Abraham, Job, Moses, and David to John the Baptist, the disciples, and even Jesus. Yes, Jesus, the Son of God, who upon the cross asks in anguish, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

The Christian faith is not a static faith, blind faith. It is a dynamic faith, a living faith. As Jesus called people to believe, he also issues the challenge, “Do you have ears to hear and eyes to see?” Is part of having eyes to see and ears to hear, asking questions? Isn’t the asking of questions, sincere questions, essentially faith seeking understanding?

Where can we go with our questions?

When John the Baptist is imprisoned, he struggled with his expectation of who Jesus was. The same John who leapt in the womb when his mother, Elizabeth, encountered Mary who was pregnant with Jesus. The same John who baptized Jesus and witnessed heaven invading earth at the baptism. When in prison he sends messengers to Jesus to ask “Are you the one we are looking for or should we look for another?” In one of my favorite sermons by Dr. Sean McDonough, he makes the point that John’s question is not an expression of doubt but one of faith, because he cares about God and his kingdom and the people of God.

So where do we go with our questions? I think that the Creator, Redeemer, and Sustainer of the cosmos might be big enough to handle our doubts, our fears, our searching. In fact, I believe he wants us to bring our questions to him.

How do we respond to the questions of fellow sojourners? Skeptics? Those who are seeking understanding? Those who disagree? Are we threatened? I hope that above all, as a follower of Jesus, I am approachable, that people who have those questions, especially the hard ones, feel comfortable asking them. And I pray that God would give me wisdom and the ability to hear, understand, and respond, even if the answer is “I don’t know” or “I disagree,” but at the very least, let me walk alongside you on this road that leads to the One who can handle anything you have to ask.

Who is Right?

One of the intrinsic flaws of humanity is that we all think we are right. Even if we might deny that assessment initially, if we truly own our disposition and look at the state of our heart, it tends toward doing, believing, and saying what is right in our own eyes. As the writer of the Old Testament book Ecclesiastes says, there is nothing new under the sun.

It does seem intensified in an era where everything that is going on in the world can be shared and observed through these tiny screens that we are addicted to. Furthermore, it has never been easier to share our opinions, perspectives, and convictions on a global stage by pressing that “post” or “share” button.

We live in a polarizing world. Who we are is often defined by who we are not. Often who we are not is presented in an “over against the other” way. With the debates over gun control, sexuality, abortion, (insert whatever issue you would like), etc., the thing we all have in common is the massive rift that divides us.

Rach and I have had numerous discussions regarding these issues and the way forward as Christians. Among our “conclusions” is that as followers of Christ, the way of the cross is our absolute.

There is nothing new under the sun.

 

Pro-Life, Pro-2nd Ammendment; Anti-Immigration, Anti- LGBTQ; Conservative; Evangelical; Complementarian

Vs.

Pro-Choice, Pro-Gun Control, Pro-Immigration, Pro-LGBTQ; Liberal; Exvangelical; Egalitarian

 

Who is right? I am, you are not. This is our dispositional default.

As people who claim to follow Christ, the requirement of taking up our cross and dying to ourselves and living for God and others is foundational to who we are. Belief matters. Ethics matter. And the truth is that we humans are complicated creatures with experiences that have for better or worse shaped who we are. As quick and seemingly convenient as labels are, the issues and we as people are much more nuanced than we might like to admit.

This calls for wisdom. Not our wisdom or the wisdom of the world or our culture, but wisdom from God. As followers of Jesus, are our lives, thoughts, words, and deeds shaped by the way of the cross?

Gracious Father, help us. In your mercy, guide us. In your mercy, shape us by your Holy Spirit. In your mercy, conform us to the image of your Son. In your mercy, give us ears to hear and eyes to see. May we be a people who are shaped by the way of the cross. Help us follow your way in this world. Help us follow your truth. Forgive us for actions, words, and thoughts which have dishonored you and dishonored others. Forgive us for our complacency and the things we have left undone. Would you give us your wisdom and help us be the people you have called us to be. Thank you for forgiveness. Help us to do what is right in your eyes. In the matchless name of your Son who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, One God, now and forever, Amen.

Light in the Dark Places

In recent weeks we have been confronted once again by the reality of darkness in the world. The school shooting in Uvalde Texas, the news of the widespread sexual misconduct and immorality and subsequent cover-ups within the Southern Baptist Convention, and a multitude of other stories on smaller and individual scales. This darkness can feel heavy, suffocating, and even impenetrable. Despite all the darkness and rumors of darkness, there has been something resonating within my heart, soul, and mind.

Our daughter recently performed in a church program and if you have been in a Christian environment for any length of time, you have undoubtedly seen and heard a children’s performance of “This Little Light of Mine.” I chuckled to myself when the kids at the program began singing this as I thought “Really? Again?” Well, I immediately felt convicted. Yes, convicted. I know that’s a strong word, a foreign word, maybe an uncomfortable word. But that’s what I experienced.

I have been asked not why, but how I remain a Christian considering the brokenness, darkness, and at times, apparent hopelessness that manifests itself in the world and in the church too. One of my answers:

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

I have been watching the show Stranger Things and there is one scene in which one of the protagonists, Max, is in an alternate dimension, and in danger of being destroyed by the darkness, but when hope seems lost, a light shines in the darkness in the form of her favorite song, her friends fighting for her life, and a literal light. That light becomes her salvation as she flees the darkness and runs with everything she has toward it.

The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it.

In the New Testament, the reality of light and darkness finds its strongest and clearest development in the works of John, the disciple of Jesus. Light is synonymous with life and that which is good and pure while darkness is synonymous with death and evil. But the Light is more than a comforting notion, it is the person of Jesus Christ, the Son of God.

When we are confronted with the darkness and brokenness of this life, we are simultaneously reminded that there is hope in the person of Jesus, the one to whom John bears witness saying,

The light is here and now if you have eyes to see and ears to hear. The light is yet to come for those who can believe it. We are daily confronted with darkness, yet we are not called to escapism but to confront the darkness by letting the light of Christ shine through us as we extend ourselves by our words and deeds to those who dwell in the darkness. So then, in the truth conveyed through that children’s song, are you hiding your light under a basket or are you going to let it shine?

Singer, songwriter, and author, Sandra McCracken recently wrote a book titled Send Out Your Light. I highly recommend it. Here is the link to her book and music catalog which has brought me comfort and perspective in recent weeks:

Also here is the song Is He Worthy? by Andrew Peterson. I’m sure we have shared it before but here it is again:

Friend, may the reality of Christ being the Light in the darkness comfort, encourage, and compel you to send out your light into the dark places.

Citizens

We hope that this song settles deep in your bones and ministers to your souls as it did ours.

Lyrics to Citizen

by Jon Guerra.

I'm feeling awfully foolish
Spending my life on a message
I look around and I wonder
Ever if I heard it right

Coming to you 'cause I'm confused
Coming to you 'cause I feel used
Coming to weep while I'm waiting
Tell me you won't make me go

I need to know there is justice
That it will roll in abundance
And that you're building a city
Where we arrive as immigrants
And you call us citizens
And you welcome us as children home

You were alone and rejected
Misunderstood and detested
You gave it all, didn't hold back
You even gave up your life

How can we call ourselves Christians
Saying that love is a tension
Between the call of the cross and
Between the old party line

Coming to you for the mothers
Who are all running for cover
There is a flood from their weeping
Tell me you won't make them go

I need to know there is justice
That it will roll in abundance
And that you're building a city
Where we arrive as immigrants
And you call us citizens
And you welcome us as children home

There is a man with a family
He has a wife and a baby
He broke the law just to save them
Working for three bucks an hour

Truly you said we were equal
Everyone's heart is deceitful
Everyone born is illegal
When love is the law of the land

Coming to you for the hungry
Eating the scraps of this country
Didn't you swear you would feed them
Tell me you won't make them go

I need to know there is justice
That it will roll in abundance
And that you're building a city
Where we arrive as immigrants
And you call us citizens
And you welcome us as children home

There is a wolf who is ranting
All of the sheep they are clapping
Promising power and protection
Claiming the Christ who was killed

Killed by a common consensus
Everyone screaming "Barabbas"
Trading their God for a hero
Forfeiting Heaven for Rome

Coming to you 'cause I'm angry
Coming to you 'cause I'm guilty
Coming to you 'cause you've promised
To leave the flock for the one

I need to know there is justice
That it will roll in abundance
And that you're building a city
Where we arrive as immigrants
And you call us citizens
And you welcome us as children home

Where we arrive as immigrants
And you call us citizens
And you welcome us as children home

Is there a way to love always?
Living in enemy hallways
Don't know my foes from my friends and
Don't know my friends anymore

Power has several prizes
Handcuffs can come in all sizes
Love has a million disguises
But winning is simply not one

Inundated by Voices

Language. It’s the primary way by which reality is expressed. And by language, I (Scott) mean something that transcends a system of vocabulary, phrases, sentences, and grammar. Language communicates our experience, our faith, our understanding of the world. While language can be systematized, I don’t believe that it is confined to that system. For millennia, language has been expressed through a variety of mediums. Everything from art, music, architecture and of course books, has been used to convey a message.

OVERWHELMED

If you are anything like me, you may feel overwhelmed with what at times seems to be an ocean of competing languages and messages. While there is nothing new under the sun, the advent of social media has intensified this feeling. Our intake of language can often make us feel like we have been gorging ourselves at an all-you-can-eat-buffet. I for one, often wish I could close my eyes and ears to the onslaught of messages that I encounter each day. So then, how do we navigate this? How do we find our way forward in a world in which we are bombarded with languages, words, messages, that all competitively claim that they are the truth?

In recent months, I have been contemplating and discussing with others about a multitude of “Christianities,” which are often defined over against others by the language that is employed to communicate who God is and how he is at work in the world, who humanity is, and who the church is and what the church is called to do. We often identify ourselves by which camp we belong to: Charismatic or Reformed, Evangelical or Exvangelical, Conservative or Progressive. I often think of the closing of the Gospel of John which says “Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written (John 21:25).” It almost feels that the world has been filled 100 times over with books on the right way to read and interpret Scripture (just google at how many commentary series there are), books on theology and Christianity, not to mention the multitudes of podcasts and social media accounts. Now, I am not being dismissive of various viewpoints or interpretations. Even though I have my own leanings, I want to hear the perspective and story of others and believe there is great value in doing so. In fact, I have a large library and am regularly reading these books and enjoy doing so. I think that one of the aspects of this discussion that is often neglected is that we are fallible creatures that have a propensity to get things wrong, even when we think that we are right. I’m not meaning to sound overly critical or skeptical, but at times, with all the competing languages, one wants to throw their hands up in the air and scream at the heavens, “whose words are true?”

“Whose Words are True”

For me, I always come back to the same person, and that is the person of Jesus Christ, the Good Shepherd, the perfect carpenter, the consummate cosmic gardener, Son of God, Son of man. I love the passage in John where Jesus says some things that were hard to understand and the following exchange takes place, “After this many of his disciples turned back and no longer walked with him. So Jesus said to the twelve, “Do you want to go away as well?” Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God” (Jn 6:66–69). Then a couple of chapters later, Jesus identifies himself as the Good Shepherd who knows his sheep and they know him and hear and follow his voice alone. 

Friend, in all that I am processing through and sharing in this post, I want to be clear. I am not advocating the start of a new church or denomination or another Christianity. I simply want to hear the words of Jesus. I want to hear and follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. I want to be shaped by his language, his way. I want the language of my faith to reflect the greater story of the God who seeks and saves the lost. 

 Father, help us hear the voice of your Son whom you sent and have spoken through to show us the way of life. Would you graciously guide us by your Spirit as we follow the voice of the Good Shepherd. Would you sustain us and give us eyes to see and ears to hear the way which you have revealed to us in Christ. Amen.

Person over Power: The Way of Our Christ

We are honored to share the words of someone we deeply respect and whose thoughts align so well with the conversation we have started. Thank you Nielsen Greiner for sharing with our community today. You can find more of his thoughts on the link below.

I see the Ravi Zachariases and Mark Driscolls and John MacArthurs of the world and know if these men were the summation of what I believed about the church, Christians, God, I would run as far as I can and never look back, except to glare. But then I avert my gaze and there’s another standing over and above them.

In some cases the powerful and oppressors even call themselves the victims and oppressed. These (mostly men) who claim to follow a God—Christ—unconcerned with holding political power or religious authority, whose mission was unattached to “success” (political or religious), who did not shy away from calling out powerful authorities (again, political or religious) and neither did he seek to leverage his divine nature to flatter or impress or gain a following. His trademarks were love, humility, compassion, honesty. His mission was of another world, he who asked us to rejoice in persecution if it occurs and to love our enemies, bless them, pray for them.

And more. Like Christ, in matters of injustice, harm, violation of the inherent human rights of others, we speak up for the oppressed, against the systems and structures of power, even when they are our own. We do not speak out in order to build ourselves a platform, nor in order to elevate our own names or ministries or churches.

Yet this does not exempt us from raising our voices against power and oppression and speaking up for the weak and oppressed. From leaving the 99 for the one. Especially within our own faith traditions and communities. Our responsibility is not absolved in the face of our own weakness. All of us are prophets. All of us are called to stand with survivors, victims, the wounded and downtrodden, naming first the injustice in our own hearts and then calling it out in the church and in the world. We are all guilty of injustice and at the same time still called to bring the guilt of injustice into the light.

In darkness the power and guilt of injustice grows wild, feral, ugly, demonic. In the light its power is mitigated, perhaps even destroyed. It thrives in darkness, is weakened in light. The light is painful, but it frees us, as well as those oppressed by injustice.

 This kingdom is not for the powerful. It is for the weak, humble, meek, whose authority is rooted not only in speaking truth but as much or more so in courageous acts of love, compassion, justice. All we hold is to be surrendered and given away. All enjoyment of life is to be shared. We speak out against the power that threatens to corrupt us, we speak up for those crushed by this power. And if we have been participant in this very power we now oppose, we allow ourselves to be brought down with it, always choosing the person over the power. Even when it means we “lose” or “fail,” this is our salvation. We submit to the light, whatever it overthrows, even if it includes ourselves, our ministries, our churches.

We on our thrones must be brought low, choose humility. We give up any claim to power and authority to be with, to be one of, the least of these. We don’t bow low in humility to receive power and authority, no, we do it for its own sake, as it reflects the way and heart and actions and words and life of Jesus. Not for reward, recognition, glory, or crown. No. Because it is right, the way of our Christ.

The Lost Sheep

Within the last couple of years, it has sadly become a regular occurrence to hear of a church or pastor or Christian leader or Christian organization whose conduct is anything but Christlike. Although the breaking news of these events and the conversation around them fades away, the long-term impact continues to be felt. Often, it is those under the “care” of others who suffer the neglect and abuse of those who are entrusted with their spiritual, emotional, mental, and even physical well-being. One friend sharing his experience said the following, 

““I would say the root of my hurt has to do with the church/organizations that care for their own reputation and pursuit of goals/vision than me as a person. It’s a parallel system where instead of ‘leave the 99 and go after the 1’ it’s, ‘keep the 99 moving and leave the 1 in the ditch’.””
— Anonymous

Rachael and I recently listened to the podcast The Rise and Fall of Mars Hill,

We highly recommend this podcast for a variety of reasons, but primarily because it raises awareness of the brokenness within the church, but also points to the beauty of God at work in the midst and aftermath of this brokenness. A friend and I were recently talking about a recent article concerning John MacArthur and his church which can be read here,

My friend asked,

“is the system broken if this is the fruit we keep seeing?”

Anyone who has experienced the brokenness within the church likely wrestles with the same question. What is the solution? Deconstruction? Reconstruction? Reformation? Doing away with the structure of the church of the 21st century? In the coming weeks, we want to further explore this topic as we share our thoughts on the way forward. For now, think of that one lost sheep, who each of us were or maybe even are or can identify with. So many of us, myself included, if we are totally honest with ourselves, are guilty of doing what is right in our own eyes. Sometimes I wonder if we’ve lost sight of what it means to follow Jesus.

Friend, may I suggest a way forward for this moment? Reflect upon the reality of the Good Shepherd who sought you in your sin and brokenness to lead you upon a better way. Lord, Christ, would you give us eyes to see your way and ears to hear your voice. Help us be attentive to the hurt and the wounded. May we see your beauty and the hope that you offer to the lost and reflect you to the world around us. Amen.

An Ordinary Man, And Extraordinary Faith

And Jesus answered them, “The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. Whoever loves his life loses it, and whoever hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. If anyone serves me, he must follow me; and where I am, there will my servant be also. If anyone serves me, the Father will honor him.

John 12:23–26

Today marks one year since my grandfather, Edward Winslow, left this world for his true home. His physical absence is painfully noticeable. He was present in every sense of the word. He was more reliable than the passing of time itself. He could outwork anyone, and he did time and time again, even as his age progressed. He was larger than life, and central to mine. I grew up living across the street from him and my grandmother. I worked side by side with him splitting and stacking firewood, clearing snow, raking leaves, building homes, riding around with him and his dog in his truck. I watched Jeopardy regularly with them and sat at the kitchen table as grandpa would eat his Ritz crackers with peanut butter and drink his tea. On Sundays, he and my grandmother were the door greeters at our church giving the warmest welcome imaginable.  After church we would go to their house and I always remember Grandpa helping Grandma by making the mashed potatoes and slicing the roast, and then cleaning up afterwards.  I could continue but to suffice to say, he lived an ordinary, unassuming life. Yet he was a man of extraordinary faith.

For my grandpa, the journey of following Christ, began when he was encountered by the resurrected Christ. I mean this literally. A few years ago, I asked my grandpa about when he began to follow Jesus. In his words, “I seen him, and he told me to change my ways.” One day, many years ago, a carpenter from Nazareth visited a carpenter from Stony Creek. I can’t explain it, but I absolutely believe my grandpa when he said that Jesus appeared to him in his house. I’ll put it this way, my grandfather was one of the few individuals “in whom there was no deceit.” From that moments to his final breath, my grandpa lived a life in service to Jesus and others. He was the most selfless person that I have ever known. He found true life, abundant life in following Jesus. His faith was quiet yet remarkable. He and my grandma would pray for their kids, grandkids, and great grandkids every day at their table. Sacred moment in ordinary spaces. One of the most sacred moments that I have ever experienced was a few days before he completed that final leg of this life’s journey. Rach and I visited him in the hospital to just be with him. I read scripture to him and prayed for him. He was on morphine and was in and out of sleep but as I would read, he would repeatedly say “Jesus.” I have never heard the name of Jesus spoken in such a beautiful way. Then he would doze off and several minutes later he woke up and started praying for me. The most simple and beautiful and powerful and coherent prayer that I will treasure for my entire life. He lived a life that demonstrated the faith that sustained him. Through his character and conduct, he continually pointed people to Jesus. His life was the greatest sermon that could be preached. 

Friend, have you seen Jesus? Do you have resurrection faith? Only in Jesus can true life be found and I believe that to my very core. May we live lives that reflect this upside down reality, the trajectory of the Christian life, from death to life, as we follow Jesus who was, AND who is, and who is to come.

Also this song by Brad Paisley and Dolly Parton, Where I get Where I’m Going, brings me comfort. I hope you enjoy it too.

"Be Encouraged" by Cari Dougan

“I’ve been reading Brennan Manning & his softness toward Jesus envelops me every time. reading his words is leaving with a sob in your throat because the spirit of his devotion carries to the page.

Through reading, I've realized the reason why Jesus’ message is so unique it is because it opens us to the eyes of God. An internal and holy force, like cascading sunlight in our very chest, that allows us to see with new eyes.

There's a huge contrast between the loving of Jesus & the religious/external mindset. But I think we rarely talk about how the contrast is internal.

For example, in the story of the good samaritan, we see a priest walk by a man who was beaten, stripped of his clothes & left for dead alongside the road. His external law doesn’t require him or move him to stop and help. It is a force outside of his humanity, to put rules and laws and confine. His religion is control, which is ultimately self centered & not willing to be inconvenienced.

Then there’s the good samaritan: the one who I think symbolizes an internal awakening, a transcending from ego, one who is willing to see through the eyes of God. He was not only inclined to stop. but was MOVED to stop, by the spirit within him. This allowed him to see humanity before any judgment or pretenses. someone who is loved despite knowing a thing about them.

Our truest selves can be found in giving this kind of love, because it’s what we were made of. It’s the very thing we crave. 

The difference between the priest and the good samaritan reminds me of the saying, “you are what you worship.” If only external things are worshiped we will only see “external” change. Change in routine, maybe some behavior, but only when others are there. We put on a performance. A show. But the reality behind the curtain is very different. 

It's like religiousness is a stubbornness to not address our wounds. So we cover them with a performance and a look we think is necessary to be “seen.” But it leaves wounds unattended. left to the dangers of bacteria & infection. 

So underneath we are sick. All for the sake of an external show. 

While communion with Jesus offers a cleansing of our wounds, an unraveling so they can breathe & in turn be seen.

“We boast of our weakness,” as Paul says, because it shows the healing and restoration of Jesus. “So that christ’s power can rest on me” 

When we foster a deep relationship & communion with God, we see INTERNAL change. An unraveling of who we think we are, to understand who we truly are. How loved we are. Transcending our ego allows us to see our true self in the light of Jesus. In the light of the one who created us. 

In the bible it says we will find God in the eyes of the “least of these.” I have always thought it’s because he’s in the least of us. the parts we don’t like. the dark & selfish pieces. How he loves us there. Asks to dwell and be there.He doesn’t just say I accept you, he says can I live with you here? 

That kind of love is heartbreaking & world shattering. To sit with a holy presence, in the depths of our darkness. What we perceive as our ugliest, Jesus sees with the eyes of God. pieces of ourselves that were beaten, on the side of the road, vulnerable & left for dead. 

We get to uncover our wounds- let them in the light to heal. Because he has already stopped for us. He has already come for us. Expressed adoration over us. Right where we are. 

If we don’t see the parallel of Jesus stopping for the worst in us, we won’t see the healing available for our worst. And in turn we will lack compassion for anyone else. 

Our self loathing becomes an idol which blinds us to the wonder of God, the wonder of us, the wonder of creation. 

& If our religion leaves us rigid & unwilling to be moved by God's heart, we are a stumbling block to the freedom Jesus offers abundantly. as C.S. Lewis says, we imply that his sacrifice wasn’t enough. 

Control & religion is tantalizing because it can make us feel powerful, but it isn’t ours to hold. It is the very thing that stops us from being interrupted, even if the “interruption” is God himself.

While a relationship with God does the exact opposite. It allows us to see with the eyes of his spirit. Softens and liberates us with a radical tenderness. Bringing newness like we’ve never seen before. Restoration to deeper innocence and hope than we even had as children. A willingness to be stopped creates a willingness to be HERE.  

Be encouraged, by a love that refuses to let us be anywhere but here."





Is there room for Grey in the Gospel?

Christianity has never felt so polarized. Dividing walls have been drawn, made political, economic, racial, biological, and doctrinal. 

Web MD and Psychology Today say this about black and white thinking or what is called Dichotomous Thinking. It is a thought pattern that makes people think in absolutes. For instance, you may think you are either always right or the world’s biggest failure. Psychologists consider this thought pattern to be a cognitive distortion because it keeps you from seeing life the way it really is: complex, uncertain, and constantly changing. Black and white thinking doesn’t allow you to find the middle ground, which can be hard to sustain in life at those extremes. It can also lead to or be a root of mental illness including narcissism, anxiety/depression, borderline personality disorder, OCD and have severe impact on your relationships and other areas of your life. .[1]

Now, I am not saying that there is not right and wrong or absolutes in this world, but I am proposing a perspective of humility in our thinking that allows us to see humanity as Christ did, to exemplify his self-sacrificing love on behalf of those who disagreed, ridiculed, and eventually killed him.


Humility breaks down dividing walls that have been erected in our society and is made fully possible when the story of Christ’s own humility is absorbed into our own stories. Christ’s story of humility echoing throughout the Bible gives humanity the ultimate example of bringing unity to a polarized world.

“Have this mind among yourselves, which is yours in Christ Jesus, who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross. ”
— Philippians 2:7-8

This is the story that we as humanity partake in. This is what unifies us as God’s people. It is not our doctrine, not our political affiliations, our freedoms, or even who we follow rather it is in the emptying of ourself and the recognition that the cross is sacrificial love.

May we reflect Christ’s own emptying to a polarized world. 

[1] Kristen Carter, Black and White Thinking Can Affect Your Health, Psychology Today, Nov. 10, 2020, https://www.psychologytoday.com/us/blog/health-and-human-nature/202011/black-and-white-thinking-can-affect-your-health

What can the weary offer?

I (Scott) woke up this morning entirely unmotivated to do much of anything. I have felt exceedingly exhausted as of late and the last thing that I wanted to do today was write something for Thursday’s Thoughts. That would require effort which I was honestly unwilling to put forth. But something has been nagging at me.

Exhausted

Rest-Deprived or Rest-Opposed

The words of Jesus,

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
— Mt 11:27–30

Most of us are probably all too familiar with this Scripture, yet we find ourselves as individuals and as a society rest-deprived, and in some cases, maybe even rest-opposed.

When I feel weary, I order take-out, make an Old-Fashioned and turn on Parks and Recreation. All of this is done in an effort to escape a reality that sometimes feels too hard to face. As much as I would love to say that I run right into the arms of Jesus when I feel like I have nothing to give to those around me, it doesn’t happen all the time.

This week I have been reading Tish Harrison Warren’s new book Prayer in the Night. The framework of Warren’s book is the Anglican prayer of Compline and her own story of hardship, loss, beauty, redemption and hope which we will be talking about in upcoming posts. 

Warren, and Anglican priest, shares her thoughts on Jesus’ invitation to the weary and what is offered in this invitation:

“Jesus promises nothing more or less than himself. He will yoke himself to us and never leave our side. He won’t take away the weight we bear, but he will bear it with us. God owes us nothing. Any happiness, success, or desire fulfilled is a gift to be received gratefully. It’s gravy.
God promises us simply himself. He refuses to be an end to any other means. By his mercy, we can taste eternal life, which is defined by Scripture not as making it to heaven or seeing our dreams coming true or nothing bad ever happening, but as knowing the true God and the one he has sent (John 17:3). That’s the promise: we can know God. Take it or leave it. Is Jesus Enough?
”
— Prayer in the Night; For Those Who Work or Watch or Weep

The call of Jesus to follow him, is a promise that he will journey with us. The call for the weary to come to him, is an invitation, even a challenge to trust him. Indeed, there are times when we may feel that we have absolutely nothing to offer. Doing so may feel overwhelming, yet there is something that we can offer. As Christ offered himself to and for us, we can do the same for others. Furthermore, we offer Christ though our comfort, care, and kindness as we minister to each other and those around us.

Friend are you weary?

May you find rest in the person of Christ. May you find encouragement among the community of those who follow Jesus. May you find comfort in knowing God and the one he sent.