Post-Christmas

Hey all.

I'm in Winnipeg without nearby internet access, so it'll be awhile before I post, maybe a few days. Sorry. I will say this: There's been a whackload of snow this month and some of the highways were closed so we weren't sure we'd make the 14 hour prairie trip to my parent's place. When I prayed about it, I asked God to show me what was what. What to pray. That sort of thing.

I saw us driving in our van, driving through darkness, encased in light, safely arriving. Ahhhh.

And God did that. So thanks, God!

Check back in a few days, and pray for me: On the 31st I have a book signing in our old hometown over the lunch hour. And we drive back on the 2nd/3rd. And I preach on the 4th.

Bless you real good, faithful readers. Drop me a line or a comment sometime to tell me how your holidays shaped up, what God's been saying to you, etc.

You are loved!

A tale of two Christmases

The first Christmas was about one spiritual light descending vertically to humanity. Ours, about a trillion electric ones blinking their way horizontally into overkill.
The first Christmas was about a last hope. Ours, about a deep lust.
The first Christmas was about dirty straw. Ours, about tacky glitter.
The first Christmas was about heaven tearing open to deposit love into our midst. Ours, about the ripping of colored paper to put extravagance in our laps.
The first Christmas was about overwhelming grace. Ours, about unspeakable gluttony.
The first Christmas was about freeing the oppressed. Ours, about feeding the consumer.
The first Christmas was about desperate need. Ours, about frivolous want.
The first Christmas was about him. Ours, about us.
The first Christmas...
I want it.

Fruit Fight

More deep thoughts with Brad. Enjoy.

Voices

You gotta be diligent when discerning which voice to listen to.

It's not as simple as, "Was it God, or just my imagination?" Because God can speak through your imagination.

It's not as simple as, "Was it God, or just a person?" Because God can speak through people. He does it all the time. I'm counting on it, in fact. It's why I preach. I'd hang up my spurs if I thought it was just me up there at the pulpit, blahblahblah-ing every Sunday. No, I believe that as I let God get a hold of me through scripture, my words can become his. Or at least some of them. Enough of them to make a difference in people's lives.

And people make a difference in mine. A precious soul approached me after today's sermon and felt prompted to say, "This advent series was the best one I've ever heard." Which touches me deeply, not because my sermons are at the top of her particular sermon slush pile but because the look in her eyes when she said it spoke volumes. It said, "I've been touched deeply. God has used you in my life." Or the newcomer who came forward at the end of one of the services to light the advent candle. I'd asked for a volunteer who felt the message had spoken to them personally. About being overlooked by God. Every step he took that day spoke to me. Affirmed the direction I'd taken that morning. He was worth it. Or the woman today who grabbed me in the foyer at the coffee bar and crushed me in a hug bigger than her giant smile while whispering, "Thank-you."

I don't know if you'd ever thought of this, but what we pastors do with what people say about us can literally make or break us. The affirmation, the compliments, the blessings — these can all be gifts from heaven that we ache to receive. Or they can be pride-propping flesh candy we relish too much, too long, too late.

Apparently Corrie-Ten-Boom would say, "Thank-you," to each affirmation she received. Each one was a flower to her soul. And then, at the end of each day, she'd get on her knees and present the bouquet to God. "This is rightfully yours," she'd pray, or something like that. Amen. So Jesus, for the blessings I received today, here is my bouquet. This is rightfully yours. I love you. Amen.

4:30am

It's 4:30 am. Do you know where your children are?

No, really, it's 4:30am and I'm wide awake. My children are snuggled deep under the thick covers of la-la land, Shauna is snuggled somewhere deeper still, and I... am not. Glory's hamster "Bug" is awake, though, manically gnawing on some bone-dry food pellet with nothing but day old water sharing a bowl with cedar shavings to wash it down. He's nocturnal. Me, not so much. Why I'm awake, I cannot fathom. Or can I?

I had a brainslam of a migraine last night, and self-medicated about 2:30am. Or was it 12:30? Huh. Not sure. So I have a fuzzy head, and a supernatural peace, a'la Tylenol with Codeine. God works in mysterious ways. Usually the little white pills send me packing till morning and leave me feeling quite refreshed (typically I'm not a deep sleeper unless my nighttime stupor is drug-induced).

But here I am, atypically awake. Blinkblink. My conclusion? It must be God. For one thing, five minutes after waking up I had a little epiphany about a big hurdle I've been worried about in ministry. Just a half-twist of perspective that made a huge difference: "Oh. That's right, I could do it that way! Which would take the pressure right off. Thanks, God!"

That realization alone is probably worth getting up for cause it will save (or grant) me more sleep later on.

I feel no ethereal urge to battle for my kid's souls tonight. I'm not getting a bizarre vision for some lady I've never met ironing clothes through her tears accompanied by supernatural insight into her life. I'm clacking away at this blog post, hoping that my words will resonate with some of you. Cause I do believe in "the divine encounter approach" to personal devotions, which, in a nutshell, underscores the fact that when God calls the meeting, whenever God calls it, the time will be meaningful. I'm sitting here for a reason, people.

My only request is that you take my nocturnal musings to heart and pay attention to those little (or large) tugs from God's Spirit. They can come any time, anywhere, for a multitude of reasons (only checking in with God will solve that mystery). When God says, "Hey, I want to spend some time with you," my advice?

Say yes.

Dreams

Dreams.

I got a really cool email today from someone who'd had a dream that I was in, and thought it was significant. Like, from God. She shared the dream with me, and it really did speak to me. I haven't settled totally on the meaning yet, but that'll come.

Now, there are pizza dreams, brought on by too much spicy food before bed. Or "soul dreams," as someone once described them... kind of a peek into our subconscious struggles, banes, and fears. Satan can introduce dreams too. Nightmares on drugs, kinda thing.

But God gives dreams too. More than we realize. Try reading Matthew sometime, in particular the Christmas story. Joseph is told to marry Mary by an angel in a dream. He's told to escape to Egypt through a dream, told to come back by a dream. The wisemen are told to avoid Herod on the return trip by a dream. Pretty solid pattern there.

I don't get many God dreams, but I know people who do. God confirms things to me in dreams sometimes. Sometimes the dream raises an issue that I'm apparently too thick-headed to appreciate while awake. Captive audience while I'm sleeping, I guess.

What about you? Ever had a God dream? Willing to share it?

Needle in a snowstack

We got probably 8-10 inches of snow a couple of nights ago. I want out several times in the evening to shovel so there'd be less to shovel in the morning. Shoveled a few neighbor's walks too, and threw most of it in a giant mound (five feet tall, ten feet long, seven feet wide) on our front yard so that the next morning I could bore out a quinzy for the kids (that's a hollowed out igloo thingy, for all my Southern readers who care).

Next morning I got up and dug the thing out with the kids, making an entire second fort with the snow from the hollowed cavity. Tedious work, but so worth it. I mean, the inside was so big we fit our whole family of 5 in there yesterday just for fun! (that's Joel inside at night). I stood up after finishing with a throbbing back, cold-bitten cheeks, and a sweaty back, only to realize my pockets had been open the whole time. My wallet was stuffed with snow like an arctic hor'deuvre... and my keys and cellphone... were gone.

Oh, snap.

Could'a been anywhere. I shoveled two neighbor's places, one right up to the front steps, and then of course there was the mountain of snow and the freshly built fort. Did I mention that I've already lost my cellphone once this year and that there was one'a'them newfangled electro-coded dudad Toyota keys on my keychain worth $300? Yeah.

I prayed, I really did. Cause God knew where they were. And he could show me, in all that snow. Cause otherwise, it was like finding a needle in a... you know the drill. But these were two very expensive needles in a very unforgiving haystack. Er, snowstack.

When I prayed, I had a thought. That perhaps I'd inadvertantly scooped my stuff up and over the fort walls as I built them. I could even see it in my mind's eye. So this morning, I dug around a bit on the walls. Chiseled the snow away from the edge (it hardens crispy overnight when you shovel it). Nothing. Yeah, I could have done more, but I gave up about three quarters around the corner. It felt silly, thinking I could find such small things in such a big snowstack. So I stopped working. But I kept praying.

Then a neighbor called. Said he had my cellphone. Happened to find it as he was moving snow around as he re-shoveled his walk, one of the two I'd done a day earlier. Thank you Jesus! And hope surged in my heart! Maybe we'd find the keys after all. Now, watch this:

I went to school to pick up my kids, and Glory asked to have a friend over. I hadn't recharged my phone yet and usually Shauna and I check with each other before saying yes to friends requests. I couldn't call to do that... but something VERY small inside me said I should yes. So I agreed. I mean, very small.

When we got home, Glory asked if she and her friend could play outside. It's minus 30 today, plus windchill. I should have said no. Inexplicably, I said yes.

Glory and her friend went to play in the quinzy, and they decided they wanted to dig a hole in the wall right at the very spot where I'd shaved off some snow in my futile search for the gear and given up. Even though I specifically told her the day before NOT to pick at the fort because I'd spent so much time making it so awesome. But I said yes anyway. I'm not sure why.

Two minutes later, you guessed it, in come the girls flashing my jangling keys! (They were right where I'd given up looking, buried six inches into the middle of the fort's wall, waiting for the next Chinook or Spring to ruin their hiding spot).

Think of how many times I could have chosen a fork in the path that took me farther from my keys! I think God kept them from me earlier so that I could tell Glory's friend that I had prayed to God to find the keys and that she had become the answer to my prayer.

Cool, huh?

Name, please...

Last night we let ourselves be snowbound. Almost a good foot of the white stuff sparkled its way down to earth where we live. Driveway shoveling was my first priority — and piling it up into a fort-worthy mound for today's offerings. We also watched Kung-Fu Panda, inhaled some delectable tacos with homemade soft corn tortillas (oh baby), did some advent family devotions and prayers, and me and the kids drew pictures while Shauna did some more Christmas baking. Sweet! I've included my picture here... take a close look, you can click on the image and see the big version. My question is, what should I call it?

Mulhern TV

Hey, our youth pastor Tom Mulhern and his family was on TV today! The link for the video clip program is HERE.

Go Tom and Malora! We're proud of you and you all did GREAT!

John, Jesus, noise, and idols

The past while I've been drawn more deeply into God's heart. I'm aware of a profound intimacy with God, and also a few principles surrounding that. I'd like to share them with you.

I'll probably do a series on this soon, but for now let me say that drawing the primary cues for your spiritual life from the Psalms is a big mistake unless you do major theological adjustment as you go. The Psalms were written by passionate God seekers living on the other side of the cross. They didn't have all the things Jesus' death and resurrection has made available, and their spirituality reflects that on every single page they write.

In my opinion, the very best place to take cues for your spiritual life is the book of John. For several reasons.
1. John actually walked with Jesus for a couple of years. Watched him pray. Sleep. Eat. Deal with life. You name it.
2. John, more than any other writer in scripture, seems compelled to paint an accurate, inside picture of Jesus spiritual life and how we can live that life by the Spirit. He understands the heartbeat of God and how intimacy with God works.

To summarize John's findings, the radically irreligious approach to faith that Jesus lived out himself was this:

Only decide, say, or do what God inspires you to decide, say, or do — all through the Holy Spirit, who lives in us.

Huge, I know. I'll try and unpack it sometime in the future. Suffice it to say that I've been trying to live this life, and have noticed two major issues that knock me off the path.

1. Noise. And here I don't mean traffic, other people, work, or hustle-and-bustle. That's part of life and you'd need to be a hermit to avoid it. I mean my own noise, the stuff I choose to impose on myself. Music. Radio. My own muttering or speaking. Noise. For me, choosing quiet is huge. When I choose noise, my sense of God's nearness fades almost immediately. Cause there's only so much info my brain can hold. It's like choosing serenity amidst the din. It's possible.

2. Indulgent idolatry. Getting wrapped up in anything but God, and I mean ANYTHING, to the point where it becomes first in my heart. For more on this, see my post called "A Bell Curve for the Soul."

Believe it or not, being attentive to just those two things has opened up a whole new world for me.

Like Father, like son

I’ve got a weird brain.

If you watched the “Hungry Orange” video I posted yesterday, you get exactly what I mean. What makes it even weirder is that the whole concept for the video dropped into my mind in about ten seconds. Maybe fifteen. Shauna says even just thinking about the way my mind works exhausts her.


Sometimes it exhausts me too, but mostly, it’s what energizes me. Ideas are like doing speed (I’m guessing. I’ve never done drugs of any kind. Well, okay, Tylenol in large quantities, but that doesn’t count. Talk to my headaches for a day and you’ll see). I love to preach. I love to write. I love to... well, honestly, I love to do anything creative.

I make board games. I even thunk up a way to combine Risk with Settlers of Catan. Printed up my own board and cards and icons and everything.

I write children’s stories. Novels (I could spend the next five years writing full time and not get to the end of all my ideas). Non-fiction. Blog entries. Poems. Parables. Curriculum and Bible studies. Short stories. Position papers. Anything.


I draw, paint, sculpt, and even work with willow occasionally. Last night I worked on a big, detailed cartoon of Santa pausing to consider a nativity scene with a tear in his eye. I make homemade cards for Shauna. I spend at least two hours a week on Photoshop designing logos, powerpoint slides, or laying out booklets of some sort.

I make home movies. Animated oranges. Star Wars lego animation. Video blogs. Clips for Sunday Services.

And I can’t imagine not doing these things. It’s one of those things God and I have in common because I’m made in his image. What is it for you? Compassion? Leadership? Cooking or baking? Physical challenges? I’d love to hear about what gets your heart beating.

Hungry orange

Sometimes you jus' gotta have fun.

Christianity, the movement

What does Christianity, the movement look like? It's built on two simple pillars:

1. A radically irreligious intimacy with God through Jesus Christ. Dump the duty, the religious routines, the guilt-induced daily mantras, the pre-chewed spiritual truth, and see what you have left. You'll see what I mean. Try it. If you're already not doing much to nurture your relationship with God, what'cha got? A passionate love for Jesus that launches you into radical trust? Or are you just existing? If you are one of those "devotionally correct" folks, drop that for two weeks and see what's left. Most people I know have no idea what to do with themselves when Status Quo Churchianity isn't an option. Remember, it was Jesus' "radical irreligion" that got him killed. Now his followers are some of the most religious people around. Yuck. Whatever happened to walking with God? For my best attempt at describing this life, order my book, Finding Home. Do it now.

2. An uncomfortably practical love for "my people." As Erwin McManus preaches it, "We are the church, and the church is for the world." And who are your people? Uh, the ones around you. The ones in your life. Jesus called them... are you ready...? neighbors. And that still works. I'm stunned at how many Christians outright refuse to follow Jesus on this point. Send shoes to India. Build wells in Africa. Support the career missionaries in Peru or the youth's short term mission trip. Drive past three hundred thousand lost people on the twenty two minute haul to church on Sunday. All good stuff. But invest in MY people, the people right in front of my nose, the ones in my cul-de-sac or in the adjoining cubicle? Nooo..hhoo..nooooo. People, we need to wake up. I'm just as called to live in my house on my street as I am called to be the pastor of my church twenty two minutes away. Obey Jesus. Invest in the people around you. First. Not last.

The thing is, you absolutely CAN NOT do these two things even just over half-way and remain committed to Status Quo Churchianity. It's just not possible. Perhaps you need a religious conversion? From Churchianity to Christianity? Hmmm?

The call to North Americans, I think, is to convert from Status Quo Churchianity to Christianity, the Movement — to hammer at our religion until it lines up with our faith.

Status Quo Churchianity

This isn't profound. It ain't rocket-science. It's not a secret. But we pretend it is. Oh yes. Status Quo Churchianity is founded on these basic principles, which often end up becoming steps (religion does that):

1. Show up regularly at church. With bells on. And a smile. And your best "I'm doing fine" face.

2. Tithe as you can. Or not. Don't sweat it, God'll get 'er done on what the other people give.

3. Serve somewhere in church. Or not (see #5).

4. Give lip service to God during the week, but mostly, live for yourself and your own priorities. Add maybe one fifteen minute prayer of desperation if things get a little too hairy for your liking, which means that your own priorities and comfort are being challenged. If you really want to feel spiritual, add one or two devotional moments where you suck back spiritual food other people have chewed for you. But no more than that. No need to get radical or anything.

5. Fill up your schedule — and I mean, right to the brim — so that you can more easily justify saying no to God, no to ministry opportunities, and no to the people in your sphere of influence that need help and Jesus. Because Jesus doesn't really want to be your life, just a part of it.

6. Live with a vague sense of guilt and a strong dose of personal malaise. Oh well. Such is life.

7. Repeat.

Now, the scary part. Look in the mirror. Is this you? Are you okay with what you see?

Tribes

As I said earlier, 'been readin' Seth Godin's new book, Tribes. 'Been holdin' off tellin' ya what's been bouncin' roundn' my noggin cause it's all in process. But I'll give ya a few snippets, some realizations I've been havin.'

And I'll drop the two-dollar accent while I'm at it.

A tribe, Godin says, "is a group of people connected to one another, a leader, and an idea." Pretty basic. Every tribe solidifies, though; and over time, they form their own religion, their own code of conduct (usually unwritten rules) and values that embody the essence of their identity.

Then Godin speaks to leaders, saying, "When you fall in love with the system (the religion of whatever tribe you're a part of), you lose the ability to grow... in order to lead, you must challenge the status quo of whatever religion you're living under." Wow. Can you say, JESUS of Nazareth? He wasn't challenging Judaism, the faith: No, he came to fulfill that. He was challenging Judaism, the religion, and for that he was branded a heretic and crucified. Can you say, welcome to modern church culture? WHen people challenge the religion, we react as though they're challenging our faith!

Now here's the kicker: Jesus didn't actually try to reform Judaism. He cast his net broad, scattered his seed to all... and then went with those who "got it." Godin puts it this way: You can't create a true movement by marketing to "most people." "Smart leaders," he says, "assemble the tribe." Sometimes, the NEW tribe. Can you say, the TWELVE disciples? The SEVENTY? The 120? Yup. There it is.

But tribes don't become movements until the tribe becomes larger than the leader. In Christianity's case, this is technically impossible (can't be bigger than Jesus). On the other hand, you could say that Jesus HAD to ascend into the clouds to let the movement happen. He is, of course, with us by His Spirit, indwelling us — but without this transcendence the movement would have been dead in the water.

Which paves the way for discipleship, apprenticeship. Transcendence needs form. Godin says, "All you need to do is motivate the people that choose to follow you. The rest of the population is free to ignore you or disagree with you or move on." God loves the world, Jesus loved the crowd, but he invested in the 12.

Every church already has at least one tribe in it. Yours too. In many churches, the largest tribe in the pews could be called "Status Quo Churchianity." Our churches are crammed full of people who's religion contradicts their so-called faith. The movements of their tribe lead them away from Jesus.

Tomorrow: The hallmarks of Status Quo Churchianity.

Another look

A couple of weeks ago I posted about the power of new lenses, new perspectives on life. I'd just bought a new pair of glasses myself, and for a too-good-to-be-true price, too: Fifty bucks. They were so clear! But a fifty dollar lens change on life is nothing compared to a five hundred dollar lens change. Or five thousand.

Here's a picture of my new glasses as they sit today. Uh huh. Shattered. And mirroring perfectly what's happening to some pretty major lenses in my spiritual life.

Don't worry. It's not left me blind. My physical eyes are remarkably good today without my glasses. And spiritually speaking, I'm seeing things more clearly than I have in years. Maybe longer. Decades? When I see clearly enough to put things into words, and I'm sure that I'm not skewing what I'm seeing, I'll try and share it with you. If I have permission. I will say this: Man, am I enflamed and pumped and overwhelmed ... and hopeful.

Jesus, keep teaching me. I'm listening. And if you need to shatter some old lenses to help me see new things from new angles, so be it. Cause I want to see the truth, naked and unyielding. I want to "get it" better than I've ever gotten it in my short 38 years. And I want to see how to do what you prompted me to post above my desk at the office:

1. Live the life.
2. Cast the vision.
3. Preach the word.
4. Lead the change.

Amen, Lord Jesus. Amen.