Happy New Year... But For Who?

This is supposed to be a time of celebration... I feel sick. Not literally, in my heart.

I'm in Wyoming recieving the hospitality of people I've never met before. I'm finishing day two of a four day journey from Albany, Oregon to Goshen, Indiana. Happy New years to me. I'll be asleep by the time 2009 passes over my head.

So why do I feel sick? 

I asked God for compassion today.

My love is so small, my compassion so petty. 

There was a party tonight somewhere in the world, someone was not invited to that party. It wasn't that that someone was forgotten, it was just agreed upon that he wouldn't be invited. He's socially awkward. A nuisance. Difficult to be around. He might be interested in dating one of the normal single girls. 

I felt compassion for him and called him. He was just leaving some church thing at 11. 

"Where you goin now Travis? Gonna stay up for New Years?"

"Yea I might stay up. I'm gonna go home."

"No big party somewhere?" I'm hoping he doesn't ask if anything is going on. Though I'm in Wyoming and can plead ignorance... which would be a lie.

"Na, I guess  not."

By this time I decide since I'm on a back road I've never been on before at 9:30 with 40mph gusts pushing my car everywhere, I should probably go.

Travis reminds me that God will take care of me in the wind. He made all the stars and named them after all.

I understand compassion a bit better tonight, but it's surrounded by a mess of my bitterness towards those who knowingly let Travis stay home alone tonight. It's got this element of self-righteousness that makes me want to think that I'm doing better than them by calling him. I can honestly say I called him out of pure compassion, it was just all the after the call stuff that got.... disgusting. 

So which is worse. My lack of compassion or theirs... I don't think there's a difference. Lack of compassion is lack of compassion. Jesus doesn't ask me to have compassion on just a certain demographic, He calls me to have complete compassion. Jesus was called the Son of Compassion. 

This little post describes a stew of human selfishness. Mine. Others'.  Father teach us to have unbridled compassion, not just on those who we feel deserve it. Sometimes its easier to have compassion on the opressed rather than the opressor; but I have played the role of opressor many times before... many times before. You had compassion on me... teach me to extend that compassion to others.

Thoughts from Philippians 2

Do not look out for your own interests, but also for the interests of others.

Consider one another as more important than yourself.

Have this attitude in yourself which was also in Christ Jesus. The one who left perfect social interaction and comfort to come live with dysfunctional, awkward, selfish people. (My paraphrase of course).

Father give us compassion.

Do I Pray for Help or for God?

I tense up just a bit as I look out the window and fail to see anything but snow speeding by beneath us. The pilot has already placed us about twenty feet off the ground. I start thinking crazy things, like what happened in Colorado recently, then remember that it's more likely to die by getting shot than it is to die in a plane crash. I then remember that I got shot at a couple weeks ago by a hunter. I also remember it's more likely to get struck by lightening... I rest reassured that the odds are on my side. The plane lands properly, in spite of my negative thoughts. Thank goodness I am not a Scientologist, otherwise my pessimism would destroy the world. We start rolling towards the gate as the little cigarette light blinks off then on with a ding, as the stewardesses inform us that we can now use portable electronic devices. I bring my little phone to life. My next few minutes will involve reconnecting with the world after taking part in the miracle of human flight. The text message that comes as I turn on my phone tells me that I have a flight scheduled for 3:05 pm to Eugene.

At first I sort of enjoy the idea of flying to Eugene rather than being stuck in Portland Airport over the holidays. This enjoyment is soon replaced by panic when I realize that it is 2:00pm and I'm still sitting in the plane. I strike to action, forgetting the main reason I turned on my phone was to see if Courtney sent any flirtatious messages while I was airborne.

In case you have never travelled before, there are an entire list of items that make this accomplishment rather impossible. I have one hour to accomplish the following:



1) Get off of the plane and to the baggage claim 20 min

2) Get bags 20 min

3) Check in again for my newly purchased flight 20 min

4) Pass through security 20 min

5) Get to my departure gate 5 min



So that is 85 minutes. At a smaller airport like PDX or Columbus on an early morning flight it probably takes me about 45 minutes. The problem is that ice and snow are covering Portland right now. PDX was opening and closing all day, chains are mandatory (in the city), garbage pickup has stopped, and lo and behold even the "through snow through sleet" postal service is shutting its doors. As consequence to all of this there are tons of people trapped in the airport who have been waiting hours and even days to get a flight to anywhere else. I just got off the plane. By the time I get my bags and get in line at the ticket counter it's already 2:30 and the line is out and around the corner filled with people who have already been waiting for hours. This is where nothing short of an undeserved miracle begins.

On the fringes of the chaos I see an Alaskan Airlines employee with a list that I knew probably contained answers, like how long will I be stuck in this airport. I approached her and explained my situation, simply wondering if there was any way I would be able to make my flight at 3:05.

"What time is it?" She asked.

"2:35" I said, glancing at my phone.

"Come with me." She whisked me to the fringes of the crowd without saying a word. At the end of Alaskan Airlines ticket counter was a slender old woman, I'm sure at one point she was one of those smokin young stewardesses for TWA, the kind of girl that is only mythological now (at least in my flying experiences). Thousands of flights, however, had turned smooth features into wrinkles.

I tried to thank the other worker for her help the angel was already off to create another miracle on 34th street... or at least at baggage claim.

The gal at the counter asked for my I.D. As she looked at my flight time she printed my boarding pass and sent me on my way with a speed that I did not know was ever possible at an airport. I appreciated that one of the flight stopping hurdles was over with expediency I never knew possible; but I was still calling my mother to let them know how frustrated I was that they had bought me a ticket without consulting me, and that I was going to miss it anyways.

The security line was average, but still enough to keep me from reaching my flight (which I had learned from the old stewardess that it was boarding). I used my new found information to ask my way up the security line. Everyone was so gracious. No one hesitated to tell me to move on except for the Hispanic family that couldn't understand what I was saying, but let me by anyway. Hurdle number two. I still thought I was going to miss my flight.

I hate running in airports, in 90% of circumstances a brisk, unpanicked, walk is sufficient. It drives me crazy travelling with people who are freaking out all the time. This one freaked out even me, I ran through the airport. The following conversation with God is the heart of what I'm writing about.

"I can't ask God for this, that's stupid. But why not, why not just ask him to hold the plane. Hey God you can do something about this right?" I started thinking about the way I was feeling towards my brother and mother who had put me in this situation. I was blindingly bitter and ignored the fact that they were trying to help. I forgot about my flight and whether or not I was going to make it, I honestly didn't care. I had friends who I could stay with in Portland, it wouldn't be the end of the world, I would adapt to my new situation; but my bitterness. "God I'm thinking you care more about this bitterness than you do my flight." I don't remember praying anything beyond that, I couldn't concentrate enough. In this sort of haze I finally made it after running to the opposite side of the airport with a pack on my back and a full size suitcase behind me. I heard "Last boarding call for flight 4021... last boarding call for flight 4021" I made it.

I have a friend that asked us to pray about her job, she really liked it and did a good job and felt like God had opened up the door for her to be there in the first place. I believe her. I just felt weird about how we went about it. It felt like the idea was that we were battling some sort of evil, praying that a certain event would happen. I love this gal and I know she has a huge impact on the lives of students there. I do this same thing all the time too. Me missing my flight was evil and my responsibility in prayer was to pray against that evil it seemed. The good Christian thing to do would be to call up all my friends and have them pray that I make my flight, so that I can be a bit more comfortable over the next few days.

+++

I could totally see Jesus stepping into the situation (He did actually but I'm thinking physical Jesus incarnate). I would be freaking out and asking him to get my flight held. "Jesus I totally have faith in you, can you take care of this... come on... it's gonna be a bummer stuck here."

"Do not worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow will worry about itself."

This is where I would start to get pissed off, first of all because I already knew that was in the Bible, and second because I was ignoring it.

Jesus then crawls up on a chair right in the middle of the airport and says "Beware of bitterness. You all travel to your homes to spend time with relatives that you don't want to talk to, why do you keep up such formalities and avoid healing wounds."

The words penetrate my heart. I don't care about the flight anymore. Jesus seemed indifferent about it from the beginning.

Jesus gets off the chair and we start walking towards my gate. I'm still not thinking about the flight. "I'm a jerk huh?"

"There is grace. I love you. I know you love your family. All is forgiven."

We arrive at the gate when I snap back into reality. "Are you two on flight 4021?" The lady behind the counter looks suspiciously at Jesus on account that he is middle eastern.

"Yea that's us."

"Oh good, well we had a small delay, you guys made it not a moment too late."

Jesus smiles at me and says "I would rather have you stay here and share some hope with people; but I know you aren't ready for that yet. Don't worry, I still love you, let's get home."

+++

I think in the long run, whether I made it or not was moot. God's kingdom does not come in fixed flights, or continued employment, it comes in our hearts. God wants to heal families, cure our bitterness, make us patient and loving. I used to think that trusting God was believing that he would do whatever we wanted. I think now it's trusting that God knows what's going on, and knows what He's doing. I'm not all about New Year's resolutions; but I want to trust God more this year, go about doing His work with his peace reigning in my heart, whether He holds the flight nor not.

And this is how he taught them to pray

Our Father who art in heaven, hallowed by thy name.

Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses, as we forgive those who trespass against us.

Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil, for thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever.

Amen.

Any man can get a flight held. Only God can change the heart.

The God Who is Not me.

I've been reading Donald Miller's Through Painted Deserts. Now I'm starting on Searching for God Knows What. Good stuff. I loved Blue Like Jazz when I read it a few months ago. Mostly I love the writing, but I love his honesty. It really lays bare the very human side of interacting with divinity. He described interacting with God as a dance in which we are continually getting our toes stepped on as we learn to dance with Him. He described his own bruised feet.

I was painting a house this week, some friends helped out. We got talking about my delusions of seeking divinity.

"So maybe I should start my own cult, you know, become a divinity and all that."
The girls didn't like that much "Yea you could be a natural Charlie Manson."
"So you guys wanna have a cool-aide party later?" I chuckle knivingly.
They challenge my comment "Umm I think that was Jim Jones...."
"No maybe that guy who thought Hale-bop was an alien spaceship."
"Whatever, just go pick up some cool-aide and a bottle of arsenic." I go back to painting. "Thus says the Jason."

Thank goodness I'm not God. I read this David Foster Wallace story about this guy who was in a mental institution. He went crazy after his sexual fantasy world became bigger than he was, he couldn't fit together the logic of the entire cosmos that demanded him to control every atom. So he went crazy.

The more I've been walking with God the less understandable He has become. At one time my God was simple, in a box. At some point along the journey He stepped outside of my box, to which I responded with a bigger box, then another step, and a bigger box. I've come across all sorts of "This is God" or "If you do this then God will do this." God is good, God is wrathful, God is just, God is unchanging, God changes his mind?, God is one, God is three, God tells the Israelites to kill men women and children in Canaan, God tells his followers to love even their enemy, God cannot tolerate sin, God is tolerating sin for a time, God is merciful, God allows suffering. He's really a confusing mess really... to us. The confusion doesn't scare me, I'm not sure why. I just trust Him, I just trust that he is good. I trust Him when He says that if I accept His Son who comes on behalf of Him, and who is Him, if I walk with Him, get to know Him, I am His child, his little kid.

He is the one that holds it all together. He's the one who set up the plan of salvation. No matter how I end up looking at things, they are still his plans that will be carried out in His will. I don't have to figure out His plans, He just wants me to relate to Him and share the love and grace He gives to me with those around me. I don't have to 'prove' God exists or that He is good. I can tell them, but in the end He's the one whose gotta do the convincing in the hearts, and they have to recieve it. If God is an intellectual enterprise, then too bad for all the mentally handicapped, or uneducated, or illiterate, cause they aren't going to get all the close to God's heart right? In the end what will Jesus say? Well to some who did all sorts of signs and had plenty of knowledge He said "Depart from me I never knew you." It's about relationship with this way bigger than us, complex to a frustrating degree, unlimited, divine being. To say we are an ant farm to the human is an insult to how beyond us the maker of this material world is.

God be bigger than me, cause if you can fit in my box, you are no God at all. Teach me to trust you, experience or not, feeling or not, understanding or not. Thank you for the life you have given. Thank you for guitar, Delta Blues, Piano conciertos, molassas cookies, literature, and blazing sunsets. Oh and beautiful women... ok just one beautiful woman. Thank you for the realization of your existance, thank you for the gift of being able to trust you. Thank you for walking with me, and teaching me to dance.

Cat Furniture and Social Retards

Travis makes cat furniture. Big cat furniture with varying elevations for the kitty to romp on with his little paws. He makes small cat furniture, just a basic scratching post for your conservative Mennonite cats who practice simplicity. Travis makes cat furniture.

Travis drives a big blue Ford truck that get's 30 mpg. He puts oil in the Diesel to make it last longer. It's a 7.2 liter that they use in dump trucks. If a Bradley Fighting Vehicle ran it over it wouldn't bust it.

Travis has a kerosene heater he just bought for his shop. It's fuel injected. It burns three gallons of Kerosene an hour; but he doesn't need to run it more than a half hour a day. It works pretty good to keep him warm while he's working on cat furniture. Before it cost him $200 a month with an electric heater.

Travis is awkward. I'm a jerk so if I'm honest I would say he is socially retarded.** He's a child of God, he is beautiful to the Father, he is loved by the Father. I'm not God, I'm not Jesus; as a result I tend to be really selfish, a jerk really.

Travis called the church looking for a singles group. They gave him my number. I could tell by his voice that he was socially retarded; and he wanted to know if there were single girls in the group... oh geez. I figured I couldn't get away with a clean conscience without inviting him to something, so I invited him on to hang out with us on Sunday. He hit on my now girlfriend, and was as I predicted socially retarded. I found out very quickly that he makes cat furniture.

It's been a few weeks, he's still socially retarded. I've heard so many times about what kind of carpet he uses for his cat furniture. I know his truck better than I know my own -now wrecked- car. It is so ridiculously draining talking with this guy. I don't even know what to say. Today he said "Did you know Wal-mart employs a million people around the world? I'd have to make a lot of cat furniture to have that many employees!"

I was drastically curious "What brought that to mind Travis?"

He shrugged "I don't know, just thinkin."

I have my arm around my lovely girlfriend who by this time has escaped the torture by falling asleep. Travis makes me want to have a Thyroid problem just like her. Sleep, sweet escape. I want to talk about deep stuff, fun stuff. I want to talk with my girlfriend for more than five minutes without hearing about freaking cat furniture! He draws you in, he just stares at you and won't let you get away from the conversation!

Travis.

Travis shows me how selfish I am. How disabled I am. I have such an inability to love. To have compassion. I know I'm trying, I know we're doing a ton just by continuing to invite him on Sundays. How does this line up with what the God of the Universe says to me?

From Philippians 2

Do nothing from selfishness or empty conceit, but with humility of mind regard one another as more important than yourselves; do not merely look out for your own personal interests, but also for the interests of others. Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although He existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied Himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men. Being found in appearance as a man, He humbled Himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

There's this site called failblog.org that puts up all this pictures of obvious failure by us stupid humans. My life on the site would be LOVE FAIL.

Jesus is God, quite familiar with divine conversation, perfect love, perfect selflessness, communion of the Trinity. He became man and hung out with a region full of social, spiritual retards. Peter... retard. Thomas... retard. All twelve disciples... retards. Read the gospels, read acts. They did amazing things... and they did stupid things.

The tenderness and mercy of Jesus blew right past their shortcomings, their undesireableness. God interacting with man on a daily basis.

Being around Travis will be a good thing for me. Hopefully he feels loved and recieves friendship from us. Beign around Travis drags me into the street naked; standing before God next to my mistress, selfishness. He shows me mercy; but calls me to leave my lust behind, my lust for myself, my passion for my own desires. I can talk all day of what is "emotionally healthy" for me, or "what I can stand" in relating to Travis. God have mercy on me. This selfish, prideful man.





**The mentally ill are a beautiful part of God's kingdom, I have heard stories of healing and love that have flowed from simple hearts that put me to shame. If you read the whole thing right you'll see that my distinctions of calling someone socially retarded are a selfish sinful human distinction. Retard is a dirogitory term only because in our selfishness we have deemed the mentally handicapped as something 'less' than us. My use of the word shows not only my willingnes to make Travis something 'less' in my mind; but also acknowledges that in some way I consider myself more viable than the mentally ill. May God have mercy on me.

A Goshen Winter Walk

I wrecked my car last week. It's my own stupid fault, I picked up my cell after getting a text and rear ended someone. The only thing you need to know for this post is that I don't currently have a car.

So I was painting a house for some new acquaintances today trying to piece together a bit of cash in this jobless desert called Elkhart County. I was in a hurry to hitch a ride with Wilbur this morning that I forgot to get breakfast, or bring a lunch. So about 10a.m. I realize this. First I try to call Papa Johns. Too expensive, they won't deliver under $10 orders. So the unthinkable happens... I have to walk. I walk fifteen minutes across downtown Goshen to Subway, then fifteen minutes back.

It was actually kind of nice. Things were pretty toasty around here today (38 degrees, arg). I saw a couple of people, they smiled and said hello. I got exercise. I didn't have to pay the money for gas. I didn't have to worry about rear ending someone. I felt like my little trip to Subway was actually worth something. Good exercise, fresh air, and I'm a little bit tougher for dealing with the cold.

I understand that there are inconveniences to not having a car, but I'm loving the limitations, the forced simplicity of choice. I did really want to go see my girlfriend a bit, she's not feeling well, but she went to bed early anyways. I just feel like the pace of life is so much more relaxed when you don't have the option to go anywhere you want whenever you want.

To leap accross the chasm to spiritual application, dying to self is hard. I have choices everywhere. I liked how Rich Mullin's put it "The stuff of earth competes for the allegience that I owe only to the giver of all good things." This whole not having a car thing is making life slow down for me. It's an adjustment, but I like it. Sometimes we have to up the concentration and find God through the distractions; but why can't we adjust the pace of life so we can hear Him better? I want to quit asking God to speak through the noise, THAT I'M MAKING, and slow down enough to hear Him, and not just on Sunday afternoons when the Colts are barely pulling out another W in the 4th.

"Evil looks like business." -Mike Yacconelli

Dad, thank you for the car wreck.

Spiritual Gluttony

I believe I'm suffering from spiritual gluttony. My spiritual addiction is catching up to me. The next high, the deeper walk.... for what? So I can sit on my butt some more.

It would be stupid to say that God hasn't worked through me, or that I haven't been doing any of his work; but the kinds of work I have been doing don't really cost me all that much.

So here I sit again "God why the hell don't I feel anything?!" I read, I pray, grasping at Him, air, anything. I feel nothing. Not sad, or in despair longing for Him, just nothing, blank, empty, gone, transparent. I'm emotionless enough as it is, I find myself enjoying emotional pain at times. When I hurt, I'm feeling something.

I want joy, I want simplicity in faith, I want laughter. These things come to those who throw themselves wholeheartedly into the kingdom. It's not so much God withholding Himself from us, He continues to infuse His presence into our selfish lives; but if we want to drown in Him then we need to jump in, not just stick our face under the water.

"He is not a tame Lion, but he is good." C.S. Lewis wrote of Aslan, his representation of Christ. My Jesus is not tame, not a house kitty; yet I expect him to come in and sit with me by the fire. Sometimes he does, other times he's out in the blistering cold, in the wind and snow, asking me to come outside in my bare feet. "Sorry, too cold, come inside so we can be close like you want." Of course then I get all pissed off when he stays out there "What, you don't love me?" What a putz, huh? You'd think he'd bite my selfish human head off, his failure to strike me dead is an example of His patience, love and compassion.

I guess I feel like the rich young ruler.

"Good Teacher what shall I do to inherit eternal life?"

"Why do you call me good? God is the only one who is really good. You know the commandments: Don't commit adultery, Don't murder, Don't steal, Don't lie, Honor your parents."

Before Jesus got out the rest he was cut off, "Oh I've done all that."

"You're missing one thing. Sell all your stuff, give it to the poor, flip your life upside down and take up the life I offer you, follow me and what I want you to do...How hard it is for those who have riches to enter the kingdom of God!"

I'm pretty sure I'm saved, but my desires or apathy still seem to supercede the will of my Father. I want all the trimmings; but none of the work.

May I lay down my life in order to find it.

Letting the Nutrients Get to the Blood

When I drink water, when I eat food; sometimes it doesn't satisfy. I'm still hungry or still thirsty for more. I scoff at the nutritious food that was supposed to supply my body with energy. I expect some magical property to kick in as soon as the food hit's my tongue. I'm ridiculously impatient. What I want should happen, and it should happen now. Unfortunately, the food has to be prepared by the stomach to move through the intestines where all the nutrients are pulled from it. After that the nutrients are put into my blood system and transported all over my body to the organs and muscles that need it. It's a beautiful miracle; but still a continual process.

I heard from a friend that by the time you feel thirsty you're already dehydrated. Sometimes I wish I could eat a huge meal that would last me for a week, so I wouldn't have to worry about eating. It doesn't work that way. I get hungry, I get weak, I get thirsty. I get this way because I don't eat or don't drink; and since I've depleted my system I have to wait for the process to carry the nutrients to my extremities.

We have a spiritual digestive system. I want a now and right now type of God. Unfortunately for my spoiled selfish attitude it doesn't work that way... it's a process. Jesus said "Whoever drinks of the water I give him will never thirst again." I hate phrases like "We are hungry, we are hungry, we are hungry for more of you." We are spiritually gluttonous, why can't we simply abide in Him; feed daily on his word, drink daily from his well? A child does not grow because he strains to do so, he eats, he drinks, he plays, he learns, as a result he grows.

We had a little prayer meeting at the house this morning. It was only a couple days in advance, and it's the holiday weekend so people are out of town. There were just four of us. It was frustrating. I'm spiritually dehydrated. I haven't been drinking from the well, so I'm thirsty. So we spend two hours in prayer and the whole time I'm just frustrated, wondering what the hell I'm doing. I feel stupid, I feel nothing, and God apparently does not want to listen. I'm expecting the water to make me feel healthy and nourished as soon as it hits my tongue. Everyone leaves, I call my girlfriend and rant to her about how God apparently does not like to be near to me, I go get some literal water from the faucet cause I have a headache from physical dehydration.

Rich Mullins is playing on the computer "If I stand let me stand on the promise that you will pull me through, and if I can't let me fall on the grace that first brought me to you." I start to feel the effects of the process, I feel peace, love, strength in my spiritual bones. The gallons of water I had been chugging are finally making their way to the thirsty spiritual muscles and organs.

The first three months I was here in Goshen I was doing pretty good about praying... alot (at least for me); I was spending an hour a day, three or four times a week, in prayer. The prayer was always frustrating, boring, difficult; half the time was spent saying "God this is boring. Where are you?" The first week was annoying and difficult, and I felt like it didn't matter; but then another week went by, and another, and another. I felt life growing inside of me, a deep strength, a desire for righteousness. The times of prayer were still frustrating, annoying, and generally boring. I had to be in a dark room so that I wouldn't get distracted; but with a candle lit so I wouldn't let my mind wander in the darkness. I stopped cause I got distracted, the next three months were pretty rough spiritually, I was dehydrated.

I need to drink deep, and drink daily; not only when I am thirsty. I must be patient, it takes time for life to infuse dead bones.

Drink deep from the river, and drink daily.
The need my not be urgent, and there may be the assurance of water all round.
But what is the use of the running stream if we don't drink from it.
It is beautiful to look at, it is pleasant to hear.
But if it simply flows by, the observer will whither and die.

Drink deep from the water, and drink daily.
Drink before you thirst, drink even when it seems impractical or repetitions, commonplace even.
The water is life.

The "Cost" of Discipleship: Doing the Math

I want to begin with a disclaimer: THIS IS NOT A RANT AGAINST STARBUCKS. If you feel like I'm doing that, then you miss the point.

I honestly don't know much about Starbucks, though I've heard they strive (or at least advertise to) to give fair prices to coffee growers around the world. Once again, this has nothing to do with that. Though their new campaign has sparked my thoughts today.

Join us as we count down to the launch of (STARBUCKS) RED. Starting November 27, every time you buy a special (STARBUCKS) RED product, a contribution will be made to the Global Fund, to help save lives in Africa. It’s all part of our commitment to give back to the communities where we do business, which is a key component of Starbucks™ Shared Planet™.

The above paragraph is from the Starbucks website. Sounds like a good deal. I'm glad their being generous with a part of their profits. Why again does this make me upset?

I first heard about this little event when it popped up as a Facebook event. 65,000 were attending so far according to the event page. I did a little math. Starbucks is giving 5 cents per hand made drink to the Global Fund. Multiply that by the 65,000 or so Facebookers attending and you get around $3250. Wow, what a noble thing! We gave all that money to help sick, starving, uneducated people in Africa!

What if those 65,000 people gave up their coffee for a day and gave that money directly to the Global Fund themselves (For Canadians: only go to Tim Horton's two times a day instead of six)? Assuming that the American people are very thrifty right now because of the downturn I'll give the benefit of the doubt and say $3 a drink.

65,000
x $3
--------------
$195,000

Let's do some more math. Let's say 65,000 people who regularly attend Starbucks gave up their custom drink twice a month and sent the money to Global Fund.

(The daily total for 65,000 people skipping out on a $3 drink) $195,000
(The number of days a month they gave up drinks) x 2
--------------
$390,000

Let's get the yearly average now

$390,000
x 12
--------------
$4,680,000

In Summary. If 65,000 people gave up their drink twice a month from Starbucks or otherwise, and repeated the process for a year they would collectively give $4,680,000.

Let's say that money heads out to Sierra Leone, one of the poorer countries in Africa. Just to put it into perspective the average yearly wage there is $140 per person, so our funds from giving up two drinks per month is roughly the equivalent of the yearly wages of 33,500 people. There's a lot of need and a lot of good that money could do.

The point of this is not at all to bash Starbucks, and it's not to do fundraising for Global Fund. This is about the body of Christ in North America that has so much wealth. Our heavenly Father said "Never cease to be generous, for the poor will always be among you." My prayer of the church, for myself, is that we would go beyond just sacrificing a couple drinks a month, which in the end is just as cute and 'sacrificial' as buying a drink that donates 5 cents. Let us give out of our need

"God loves a cheerful giver" has become trite, a little song we learned in Sunday school. Father give us a vision of your generous heart. Cure me of my gluttony, teach me to use my resources frugally on myself; but lavishly on those who have need. Give me the heart of Jesus who gave it all, who had "no place to rest his head."

Giving Him All the Crap and None of the Glory... Jason and Thankfulness.

List of Thank You:

Thank you Leonard for letting me sleep on your couch for two weeks. Enjoy the Rogue Ale.

Thank you Wilbur and Shirley for a home... not just a house to sleep in. Oh, and for the flexible payment dates, and for putting up with my messiness, and getting home late, and a whole other list of things I'm sure are annoying about me.

Thank you Larry for work, for paying me way more than necessary, and for making up work when there was none left for me.

Thank you Jordan, Steph, Mindy, Kyle, all you people who gave me lots of things to laugh about and lots of things to be grateful for in the middle of some tough times.

Thank you Chris and Preston for being so gracious with the cold hard cash.

Thank you Jim and Hope for looking for jobs for me, for letting me borrow the clothes to go try to get jobs, for being motivated for me when I had none left.

Thank you Courtney for making me feel like I was still a man, and that I was still worth something, and just because I could not get a job did not mean that I was incompetent. Oh, and for the emotional wellness days. You have been an Oasis in turmoil.

So what about God? It's easy for me to complain to him, cry out to Him, wonder what He's doing when things go bad. Now that things have taken a slight upturn I wonder what's wrong with me. I have to strain to find things to be thankful for? I can easily attribute the change to people, or events. I know, He is the one orchestrating things. I'm sure when this is all over we can talk about it and He'll explain the whole thing to me, and I'll see how much He cares. I just have a hard time pinning things on God that go good cause I don't get to see what He's doing behind the scenes.

I'm going to butcher this; but there's some quote that says "You may be the only Jesus they see." Well people have been the only Jesus that I've seen. He unfortunately doesn't manifest His physical presence in the person of Jesus in my living room on a daily, yearly, decade, or century basis. He does graciously make himself known through the compassion and generosity of my friends, through acts of love, through scandalous grace that gives to a guy who commonly mishandles his finances... even in times of crisis... So my thank you's are to Him; His manifested presence in the church, his body.

Bottom of the job hunt barrel.

Went into Taco Bell today. They were out of job applications.

"What are you looking to do sir?"

My response pretty much let out this well of anguish. I seriously just about burst into tears in front of the store manager. I don't usually cry which lets me know how much this is all getting to me. "Anything." It represented defeat.

I'm not much of a fighter, I'm not one of those cancer patients who goes through chemo five times then climbs everest. Heck they wouldn't even put the needle in my arm before I would say 'screw it, Jesus get the party ready, I'm comin home!'

Most of the time I'm doin pretty good. I have good friends. A wonderful girlfried... she made me Oregon Chai with cool whip in it. She made me skip class to have an emotional wellness day. I like emotional wellness day. It's sort of like when mom used to wake us up and say "mom's holiday," she'd call the school and tell them we were staying with her for the day. Anyways, Courtney's a sweetheart, definitely lots of Jesus in that girl. Sometimes... most of the time, Jesus shows himself to us through other people. In this case, Jesus is 21 years old and gorgeous.

I want to give my time to the kingdom, I want to help people. Unfortunately that usually doesn't pay; in fact it costs money sometimes.

Back to the job search thing. The whole inward collapse at Taco Bell wasn't really a suprise. I was pretty pissed off from the time that I put on my tie (supposedly wearing a tie helps you get a job, maybe my chances will go up if I wear two ties), by this point I'm really wondering why the hell I'm turning in yet another application.

Applications have become "measureable failure." I can see my failure represented by the number of applications I have turned in without even getting an interview. Oh then there's those letters that inform me that all the positions have been filled. These usually come like 2 months after you've already realized you aren't getting the job.

Yea, job searching has become pretty despairaging. I'm not one to get depressed... but this is depressing. The ridiculous thing is that I don't even worry about money, I know I'm gonna have a place to live and food to eat, I have a butload of debt over my head from stupid school and stupid unemployment, and my own stupid inability to not spend stupid money. It's just the job hunt, it's something deeper than having the necessities, it's the ability to provide for ones self. I feel more and more each day like a dirty mooch. I'll scrub toilets for crying out loud, someone just give me a job.

Wilbur and Shirly are patient. I have been prompt with my rent up till now, the first of every month... it's the tenth, they haven't said a thing about it. I think they're just being generous.

There are some really good things in life right now. Fortunately those good things don't cost money; except for the gas it takes to get to those good things. Fellowship in the body of Christ doesn't cost money, laughter doesn't cost money, affection doesn't cost money, love doesn't cost money, acceptance doesn't cost money, family doesn't cost money. Things could get a lot worse, and I'd adjust, it's just the stupid job hunting I can't stand.

I'm hoping for that Taco Bell job, I think it would be a good ministry opportunity. God cares, I know He does. There are a lot of people in my situation who stand to lose a whole lot more... and they don't even have the family of God to fall back on.

On with the job hunt.

Unemployment... A Lesson in Kingdom Living.

I am a mooch. I'm a dirty mooch. Tonight I'm going to Fiddler's Hearth. It's this wonderful Irish Pub setting. Two wood fireplaces, excellent food. My meal is being paid for. Such blessings.

There is really no other way to explain how I've survived here in Elkhart county. Other than God feeding my mooch lifestyle. I have been very part time employed for about 11 months now. By all rights I should be broke... well ok I am. By all rights I should be homeless. I need to start making a list. It's really ridiculous actually. Not only have I had a place to stay, food, gas, etc. I've got a free skii trip, a trip to Canada, and a trip to Columbia. It's a scandalous abuse of grace really.

Look if I had a job I'd work. I'm not the most motivated guy, but I want to pay my own way. Unfortunately right now thtat's not always an option. So rise up bride of Christ and give me money. I am so ridiculously kidding. If I get checks in the mail from people who read this, I'm going to burn them; that would of course be after I cashed them, but I'd burn them nonetheless. I would say however, don't give out of your abundance give out of your need, it's financially ludicrous. I think Jesus loves it.

I've heard that the verse "God loves a cheerful giver." could better be translated "God loves a ridiculous giver." The most beautiful gift I have recieved was from this wonderful ex missionary single gal. She's strapped for cash herself. We were talking and she said "If I had something to help you out with I would." Ten minutes later she got a birthday card with fifty dollars in it. Before she left she shoved $16 into my hand and walked away. It was sort of like one of those Burger King commercials; but she wasn't wearing the suit. She was having surgery the next week, mortgage due, low on food, I'm pretty sure she was worse off than I was. The kingdom of God is so backwards and beautiful.

This being a dependent mooch thing has done wonders for helping me understand grace and generosity... real generosity. Hopefully I'll remember the lesson when... if... I ever have some sort of employment.

Ok once again, seriously, if you pity me and send me money I'm going to hunt you down and paper cut you to death. I am not to be pitied, I am satisfied and feelin alive! *Said with southern black preachers voice.* Give freely. Give out of what others have given you. Spread the irresponsible scandelous grace.

Make Jesus smile.

Living Liberty-Living Love

Jesus came to set us free from sin and death. He freed us to be ourselves, to love ourselves, to love him, to love others. I'm not sure where I got the idea that when I became a Christian I was supposed to continually hate myself. Tried that, doesn't work. The more I know Jesus, the more comfortable I am in my own skin. Sin is pervasive, I find little flakes on my skin and huge chunks underneath that require surgery. I hate the sin that's in me; but that's not me. It's a disease. Jesus cleans me up and says "Wow I did a good job when I made you." I wonder if Jesus laughs at my lame jokes.

The Freedom of Exposure

We have this innate fear to be seen for what we are. I'm not sure why. At the same time we have this innate desire to be seen by the world and loved. At least I do.

I just joined up with a couple guys who were already meeting on Mondays. Basically we lay all our crap on the table. Self exposure. I think I'm gonna get a tan.

I talked with this guy at the church who is a cocaine addict. Yes he still is. According to him he will be for the rest of his life. He makes no claims of 'irrevocable recovery' he knows he's a threat to himself and to those around him. There was something beautiful about his blatant honesty. I want to be a cocaine addict.

I sort of wish every paper in the World, on the same day, published all my dirty little secrets. There would be CNN reports and Hannity and Colmes would talk about me. Probably most people would think I was a pervert or something. They'd probably also be afraid to speak up too loudly about the situation cause they'd probably be in the same boat I am.

So here's to honesty. Yay for cocaine addicts. Yay for Jesus who already knows; but still loves me.

Back to School

It feels good to start school again. Exercising the brain, exploring new ideas, growing in various skills. I like school. I know that's somewhat odd; but if it were free I'd be a lifer. It feels good not only because I'm back into education, but also because I'm in an environment I've never encountered before.

I admittedly fall in the demographic of "first time out of a Christian Education Environment." Really, that shouldn't be a reluctant admission, Christian Education did me a lot of good, I'm thankful for it. Going to Rosedale Bible College did me even more good. I'm just glad I'm finally 'in the world but not of it' (educationally in this case). Needless to say, this new environment brings a lot of new experiences and evaluations of what I have been taught already.

My gut reaction is a "me vs. them" mentality. I was really shocked and sort of disgusted that my gut reaction in class was this tense combat situation feeling. I felt like my role here as an ambassador of Christ was to make sure they knew that I was right and they were wrong. You know, uphold the truths of strong theology and all that. We'll come back to that one.

Jesus and Christianity come up pretty much daily. For better or for worse Jesus (or at least his historical existence) is everywhere. Every time I hear something about Christians, or Christian influence -just about anything that Christianity had a part in- I pretty much want to disappear. My heart beats a bit, I race for answers to questions that will probably never be asked of me. I feel like if I don't stand up and defend Christianity every time it's backed into the corner, I'm failing. We'll come back to that one as well.

I think I know everything. Don't worry, I know that's not a good thing. I have some loving patient friends who remind me of that. I'm going to have a hard time just loving people while being in an educational environment. I can get so caught up on the discussion or the idea and what I think is right that I ignore where the other person is coming from and how I can better show them Jesus (not just what I think about the Sumerian writing's impact [or lack thereof] on the Old Testament). I'd joyously just ask for humility, but I know getting there sucks; so I usually just offhandedly mention it once and a while.

I gotta go to class. I'll touch more on those other paragraphs individually at a later date.

P.S. I'm not sure I'll ever be cured of procrastination.

Continuing to Process

Excuse the longevity. I don't blame you if you don't bother reading. This is just my way of working through everything that happened.

Continued from Beginning to process..

Corvallis ICU seemed safer. Dad laid there watching tv with some wires strapped to his chest that zapped him every time his heart rate dropped below 50 bpm. It was hard to see my dad with wires hooked to him; but those wires offered comfort.

I settled into what would become quite familiar surroundings. I spent more time in hospital waiting rooms this weekend than I have probably spent in the rest of my life combined.

Somewhere during the middle of the day they put in a temporary pacemaker. Seriously why does my dad need a pacemaker, he's 45 for crying out loud. I liked the word temporary. I also liked that my dad didn't have to feel it when he got shocked

Nothing much else happened the rest of the day. Some family came. It was a nice gesture; but I learned that unless you are really really close to someone it's more annoying than anything to have people there. They try to let you know they understand and explain what God is doing, you know with all the same responses you get about God making things into something good and using things to make us stronger. I know it's all true, I thought about it all at various times so it was more annoying than anything to hear people say it like it was this magic word that would bring a jubilant peace to the wavy seas. Ha. I'll talk about this more later in a happier tone. I'm learning alot about suffering and hope.

Somewhere during the day I decided to stay the night. I stretched out on the carpet of the waiting room. You'd think they would put cots in there for people. I didn't really expect to sleep; just pretend to, so people wouldn't talk to me. I read a bit of Ernest Hemingways A Farewell to Arms then turned off the lights.

Sometime in the night an elderly woman sat down in the other part of the room. Soon after a doctor came in. There's certain conversations you hear that seem sacred, like you don't deserve or shouldn't hear them. Such conversations would include engagement proposals, last words of the dying, etc. This was one of those. "Is my husband going to die?" It turns out the guy had pneumonia, the doctors response was uncertain.

I have never had to hear a conversation like that before. I wondered not if but when I would have to hear a conversation like that again, or be a part of one. Five minutes, five years, fifty years? I asked God alot of questions while I listened to them talk. He didn't give any answers. Sometime later I woke up to a janitor giving the room a morning clean. Lucky for him I had already cleaned the room like five times.

This morning the test results came back. All good to go. Dad would go under the knife to get a permenant pacemaker. I went and said good morning to Dad We talked about the Jamaican dude that broke the 100m world record and watched a news report on the cow pie throwing world championships.

9 AM. Dad is rolled into the OR. I walked up and down the hall thinking who knows what. A few of you got some text messages. I tried to distract myself with thoughts of other unresolved stress issues going on. How about that one, trying to think of stressful things in order to get the mind off of even more stressful things. In what seemed like a one instantaneous moment, Dad got rolled out of OR, taken to his room, we left for the house, and I took a nap.

Jess, Jordan, and I (along with my nephew Isaiah) went in this afternoon to visit dad. We all watched Isaiah jump around the room, trying to find and push every button possible. Not much to talk about, we left after an hour or so.

Things seem calm now. It's like when you have a migrane and you don't remember what it was like to ever not have a migrane. Once the migrane is gone you can't even imagine what it was like to ever have one.

Beginning to Processing What Shouldn't Happen

It started with a sound. Kind of like someone slipping and falling sort of thud... no that's not it. Maybe more like a sturdy shelf, with nothing on it, falling over. Another sound, mom yelling for dad. Not like an urgent yell. It was more like most the yells accross the house when we are to lazy to walk to the other side. Hmm maybe dad did slip in the shower, ah he's fine. No reply, another yell from mom followed by a knock... no reply. Some swimmer is finishing the 200m medly on tv, making what's happening in the back somewhat faint mumbles echoed through the bathroom. A seeming eternity of silence passes as I wait paralyzed for what I know is coming... I never want to hear mom yell for her sons like that again. Jordan heard that yell. Adrenaline took over my heart faded off to somewhere, I'm not sure it has come back yet. I didn't touch him I just saw him laying there in the bathtub motionless, unconcious. I'm not supposed to see my dad lying unconcious in the bathtub. I'm not supposed to wonder if my Father is dead.



About a million things went through my head, thankfully thoughts number two and three were "don't move him in case of a broken neck" "Call 911." Number one wasn't much of a though, more of a reaction that was one of those screams that comes out as a faltering panic voiced "dad wake up" I spit out information to dispatch. Somewhere inbetween the sprint to the kitchen phone and the confused conversation back to the bathroom dad woke up. Relief... sort of. I'm not supposed to see red and blue lights shooting through the windows of my childhood home.



The EMT's checked him out, there was nothing that they could find.... nothing that they could find. He went into the hospital. There was nothing that they could find, nothing that they could find. I'm not supposed to see my dad hooked up to monitors in the ER.



On the way home Dad passed out again. He's stubborn, he told mom to take him home.

I woke up the next morning to mom talking about Dad passing out again in the bed. I laid there begging myself to fall asleep. This isn't happening, my dad is fine. I gave myself a headache trying too hard. I took a shower and put on the clothes I shouldn't have had to wear for the next 24 hours.

Mom called from Dad's checkup. He passed out again, this time with ceasures. I told Jordan I was driving, I had to or else I would go crazy. He graciously greased my palm with the keys. I tried thinking of driving laws I could break and get away with due to the situation. I tried to think about what it might be that was causing Jordan's breaks to shudder; anything other than what shouldn't be happening and was.

Mom was in the emergency room halfway through a conversation, saying something about his heart. Somewhere in the same sentence as heart I heard the word stopped. So did mine. She didn't seem panicked so I assumed his heart started beating again. So did mine.

I got to see dad, he was concious but on some medication to keep his heart going that made him drowsy. My dad's heart shouldn't stop. It's supposed to work fine.

Albany doesn't have a cardiologist so they decided to take him to Corvallis. Someone said something about ICU. My dad shouldn't have to go to ICU.

I'm tired. I slept in the waiting room last night. Slept is a relative term. I shouldn't have to sleep in waiting rooms. I'm gonna take a nap. Hopefully I'll get the rest of this out in the next day or so. Thank you everyone who prayed. And thank you for everyone who let me update them and attempted to offer meaningful words. The words were meaningful, but the fact that you were there to give me a source of distraction was immensly more precious.

Looking Into The Abyss

The spoiled brat can't decide to have a strawberry milkshake or an Oreo blizzard. If I were living in poverty I don't think I would be quite so concerned about making some of these decisions in life. My "What the heck do I do? God where are you? What do you want me to do?" would be quickly turned into "HOLY CRAP look at the amazing choices I have to choose from!"

It's easy for me to get all spiritual about where God wants me, that way I can ignore who he wants me to be where I'm at -a common occurrence in my life. Ok I rephrase that, it's easy for me to worry about where God wants me. Getting all spiritual about it would mean I would spending immense time in prayer trying to figure it out. whoops.

God is big, very big. Using a word to describe him makes him something small. He is what He is which is more than we could ever say. He also wins in the end, he does what He wants and gets his way -not in the spoiled child sense mind you. Even when I'm frustrated it's just frustration cause I'm not getting all my little whims fulfilled, not cause I'm scared that God isn't going to annihilate all that is wrong in this life. I may make some huge mistake in upcoming decisions, frankly I don't really care because there is no way I can know whether or not they are a huge mistake, I can just kind of guess at stuff. If God wants to give some specific marching orders, he knows how bad I am at listening to Him. God will have his way, I won't be able to mess that up.

Thanks Dad. Thanks for grace. I think it's probably the greatest cure for paranoia. You save me from sin, and you save me from myself.

Giving Up The Burden of Absence

This past weekend I laid down the burden of not feeling God's presence. Out at the Conservative Mennonite Conference in Berlin, Ohio I hit up the prayer room. There was a wooden cross that had place to hang burdens. My burden was the absence of God himself. Funny I never thought of laying that burden at the cross before. I picked up the Martin Guitar with fresh strings and played and sang. I think God was hiding behind the couch. I couldn't see him anywhere but I had that unnerving feeling that he was hearing me and that it made him smile.

Not Because I See it Work

One of the difficulties of love is that there aren't always those visible results of a changed life or an enriched heart, maybe a comforted soul. Sometimes it's just hard, or awkward. Not so fun. Sometimes love is like water. Water can eat entire ships as they set on the bottom of the ocean. After two days of setting in the rain, my motorcycle's chrome parts began to wear away. Sometimes love is a tsunami that annihilates entire cities of hurt and bitterness. More often it seems that love is a series of thunderstorms that wears out the car behind the barn over the course of a hundred years. In the end Jesus calls us to love, whether we see the results or not.

Understood.

I feel quite misunderstood... most of the time. Even if people get my point, they miss my heart. It's mostly my fault really. I'm not very good at letting my heart show. I'm not sure why. I'm just not; though I suppose I've gotten better over time. There have been certain proverbial leaps I've taken at times where my heart tears the leash out of my hands and sprints across the park of life, leaving it's droppings of love here and there; but those times usually last for a couple days and are followed by a huge downturn in which I crash like a fourth grader on a sugar high. I am a super social person, but I can be around people all day and still feel lonely.

Much of the time I have something that my heart wants to say; but for sake of not knowing how the heck to say it without making people question whether I should be on some sort of meds, I usually just keep those things quiet.

I don't have to keep anything quiet with God. I couldn't -even if I wanted to. He knows it. I was talking to God the other day and was asking him if it makes any difference (besides helping me concentrate) if I speak verbally or just think things. I tried jumping back and forth multiple times in a sentence stopping the talking but continuing the thought without pausing. It was both comforting and unnerving thinking that I couldn't get away from Him.

I remember wishing as a child that someone would understand me. I'm not sure if I knew God did at that point. Probably not. I wanted someone to know how I felt about pretty much everything without risking them tearing me apart or exposing me in some way. When I figured out the whole God understanding me thing it was scary at first, then relieving because I realized He had been keeping His eye on things for a number of years prior and never told my friends how strange I was. Quite a comforting conclusion.

Goshen is starting to scare me. People are getting closer to my heart. I'm wondering what they will do when they find the man behind the curtain controlling the talking head. I think I'm both anticipating and dreading the day it arrives. I'm not saying I'm fake, I'm just bad at being understood, that can look like fake sometimes. If I could just flip a switch and be understood I would; but I can't. If I ever decided to stay... ... ...it would probably be the undoing of my heart cage.

Psalm 139 Would be a fitting read at this point.

Thanksgiving.

I am thankful for kindness. Not that sort of I have to, or I'm gonna be a nice person kindness. Fake. When someone says "I really appreciate you," or "I missed you," and you know they really mean it. It touches the heart.

I'm thankful for music. Music that speaks into a situation and has an awesome beat or tune to boot. It doesn't leave you empty like a superficial good guitar solo that moves through your system like sugar. Crash and burn. I like steak and eggs music.

I'm thankful for difficulty. Something about hardship makes life seem worthwhile. Playing a game where everyone is a winner no matter what happens sucks. I like that Jesus is a winner and I get to be on his team. Kind of like being in middle school and getting to be on Jason Sii's team at recess, only Jesus passes me the ball more. He must not realize I suck at basketball.

I'm thankful for learning, changing, growing. It reminds me that I'm not exactly all that and a bag of chips; far from it.

I'm thankful for grace. Not just God's grace for sin and all that (as if it's insignificant or something); but grace from other people. I guess that comes from God too. I'm thankful for people who know I'm a fraud and still love me.

I'm thankful that Jesus is alive. I'm not that spiritual and I tend to experience silence more often than his presence, that is until I look back and see his greasy handprints all over the place in the story of my life.

Yay for Blush Zinfindel and White Russians (the beverage not the people). Well hooray for white Russian people too. Why not I'm part Russian. My Chiropractor (a Russian named Maxim) told me that cause I have a square jaw.

Thank you God. In this crazy mess of life, all that is meaningless in itself finds meaning because you care about us for some reason.

Dying to be Known.

I spent the last few minutes with a man who is dying to be known. Unfortunately very few seem to care enough to listen long enough. The guy has some problems with telling the truth. He tells people what they want to hear, whether it's about himself, or life in general. We did a little exercise in truth. I asked him to either tell me the truth or tell me that he doesn't want to answer the question. Thinking to my own struggles I asked "Do you feel like you have to prove yourself?"

"Yes"

"Do you feel like no matter how much you try to prove yourself, you can't do good enough? And in the end you are dying for them to know who you really are?"

In a much quieter tone "Yes"

Our failure to be transparent is killing ourselves and those around us. If you are frustrated with someone, and tired of them, take time to really listen. Keep digging. Fight to get to their heart, deep on the inside they are begging for it. Sometimes very deep on the inside.

The Heart of the Cross

This is my sermon for the coming sunday, I would appreciate any feedback, posative or negative. Negative feedback is helpful to make changes so please leave any negative feedback you have whatever it is (even if it's grammer or spelling or structure). Let me know what you think. And sorry I copied and pasted so the verses came out a little wierd. I'm too lazy to fix them at this point... or ever.


Greg Boyd said “How might our churches be different if we took Paul’s teaching seriously? What would happen if the ultimate criteria we used to assess how “successful” or “unsuccessful” our churches were was the question, are we loving as Jesus loved? The truth of the matter is that we are only carrying out God’s will and expanding the kingdom of God to the extent that we answer that question affirmatively. No other question, criteria, or agenda can have any meaning for kingdom-of-God devotees except insofar as it helps us respond to that question.”

Section I: A call to Crossbearing.

As we move through this series we’re going to be building around Mark 8:34 where Jesus said “If anyone desires to come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me.”
Mark 8:34 is obviously smack dab in the middle of a bunch of other verses so it’s probably a good idea to figure out why he is saying this. The ever astute Peter actually incited this response from Jesus. Jesus was telling his disciples that he would suffer and be killed by the powers that be when Peter pulled him aside and let him know he might want to tone it down a bit. Jesus response is swift. "Get behind me Satan! For you are not mindful of the things of God, but of the things of men."
He then gets the disciples and the crowd together and lays out something that I don’t tend to think much about. The cost of following Jesus. The call to carry my cross. The call to love like Jesus loved.

Section II: Voluntary and Involuntary Trials

I’m not sure where I got the idea but I always assumed that Jesus was just talking about going through difficult times in life and dealing with sin, and maybe once in a while feeling uncomfortable because other people are sinning around me. The problem is Jesus seems to be presenting an opportunity to voluntarily pick up something that is difficult. Bearing my cross is not so much being strong when difficult things happen to me, if you want to talk about that go to the book of James where he talks about enduring various trials. No this is talking about picking up a way of life, a path, in which I am knowingly placing myself in the way of difficulty. That way of life is answering that question "Am I loving as Jesus loved?"

Section III: The heart of the cross is compassion.

Compassion has driven the redemptive works of God from the beginning. The love and compassion burning in the heart of God is evident throughout the Old Testament.

Zech 10:6
"I will strengthen the house of Judah, And I will save the house of Joseph, And I will bring them back, Because I have had compassion on them; And they will be as though I had not rejected them, For I am the LORD their God and I will answer them.

Micah 7:18-19
18Who is a God like You, who pardons iniquity And passes over the rebellious act of the remnant of His possession? He does not retain His anger forever, Because He delights in unchanging love. 19He will again have compassion on us; He will tread our iniquities under foot Yes, You will cast all their sins Into the depths of the sea.
Lam. 3:19-23
19Remember my affliction and my wandering, the wormwood and bitterness. 20Surely my soul remembers And is bowed down within me. 21This I recall to my mind, Therefore I have hope. 22The LORD'S loving kindnesses indeed never cease, For His compassions never fail. 23They are new every morning; Great is Your faithfulness. 24"The LORD is my portion," says my soul, "Therefore I have hope in Him."

God’s compassion did not stop with the prophets. For 400 years after the closing words of Malachi, God was silent. Then redemptive compassion burst onto the scene when John announced "Behold the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world."
In Mark 1:40 Jesus, the lamb of God, the one called the Son of Compassion, encounters suffering in the form of a leper. The Holy and pure runs into the unclean and despicable.

Mark 1:40-41
40A man with leprosy came to him and begged him on his knees, "If you are willing, you can make me clean." Filled with compassion, Jesus reached out his hand and touched the man. "I am willing," he said. "Be clean!" Immediately the leprosy left him and he was cured.


This is God incarnate. This is the creator of the universe, the very God who acted on behalf of the entire nation of Israel, who continually had compassion on them. That unending compassion that ripped dramatic holes throughout history moved within the gut of Jesus. The word here for compassion is splugnetzomai which means the gut. We talk about love and compassion and even anger coming from the heart. In Jesus time they talked about it from the gut, the place where you feel it. The gut of almighty God, all his compassion was moved, and the creator of the universe touched a leper, the one who was untouchable, unlovable, avoided. Jesus had compassion and touched him. Had Jesus only put his arm around him and never even healed Him, this story would not cease to be one of the most significant events in History.
This compassion, this love, this is what drove Jesus to touch the leper. This is what drove Jesus to take up his cross. Jesus is what happens when the compassionate heart of God encounters a wicked suffering world. Jesus death is what happens when the compassionate heart of God encounters a wicked suffering world. The heart of the cross is nothing less than the compassionate heart of God for a suffering people. To take up the cross is to take up the compassionate heart of God in a suffering world.

Section IV: Jesus, the perfect picture of compassion.
I want to take a look at what the rest of Jesus life looked like. He was after all knowingly bearing his cross long before he was hung on it. Basically I want to know: if Jesus showed up here in Goshen, would I see him in the places and with the people I’m with, or would he have to come to me and get my attention so we could get to work? Preparing for this part of the sermon has been admittedly disheartening. I honestly have to answer that if he showed up today, he would be taking me to a lot of places to meet a lot of people and to do a lot of things I’m not even thinking about doing right now.
I went through the book of Matthew with three highlighters. Every time Jesus interacted or mentioned someone who was generally despised, poor, or considered sub standard by the general audience I used a blue marker. Every time it was the disciples or just a random crowd I used orange. Every time it was someone well to do, well liked, rich, religious person I used pink.
For the most part there was a good mix of each color; but a few things popped out to me. There were twice as many blue highlights as there were pink and orange. Roughly 30 references are made to Jesus interacting with or talking about the dregs of society and offering them immense compassion and hope. There are about 15 references to Jesus talking with the disciples and the crowds teaching them about the kingdom and calling them to kingdom work. There are also about 15 encounters with the well to do and religious leaders, in most instances he pretty much ripped them apart.
If my life were summarized like Matthew and I took a highlighter to it I imagine it would be mostly orange. Of course there would be some blue, maybe one or two times in my life where I actually gave myself and my compassion; but most the time I have put my arm around the physically suffering with a ten foot pole. And any pink would be brief encounters with the powerful and rich who I cater to and am impressed by.
If Jesus showed up here in Elkhart County. I’m sure I’d run into him. He’d probably come here to the church. I really do think he would, he’d teach us about the kingdom we would all worship the Father together; but then he’d get us all on the bus and head somewhere downtown to find some alcoholics and homeless, we’d probably stop by a burnt out neighborhood to play with some kids who didn’t have clean clothes, or dads for that matter. I’m sure there would be some big time TV preachers who would come to interview him and get frustrated when he put a baby with a poopy diaper on their Armani suited laps. If he stayed around for a while and worked at Schmidt furniture barn he’d be a pretty hard worker. He'd work with Joy, and over lunch he would get discussions going and start talking with his coworkers about all the things their hearts really wanted to talk about. He’d give his money to groups like the window, but he’d also come and hang out with the people over breakfast and invite them over for dinner that night. After all he did say “If you have a party, don’t invite those who can repay you, but invite those who can’t, this is true hospitality.” At the end of the day as we ate with our new friends that we met at the window His relentless gentle furious compassion would mingle with his words of truth and reveal more than just our immorality, but also our complacency, our gluttony, our greed. He would have us both crying because of our unfaithfulness but laughing joyfully because of His. We would be exhausted because the day was long and the work was hard, it is after all difficult to love people; but I think we would feel more purpose, more life, more joy, than we ever thought possible. If Jesus showed up here in Elkhart County.
My faith has become clean and pious. Jesus is messy. Soon before his death he cleansed the temple for the second time, flipping tables, chasing animals. And as they all left, the sick, the lepers, and children flooded the temple and praised God. To the people looking on, Jesus turned everything upside down.
This vision of what it would look like if Jesus showed up. I struggle. I do believe that in some sense this pattern of life is picking up my cross: laying down my daily rights, laying down my finances, having the compassionate heart of God in a world that suffers. At this point this is still a dream. The best way I can describe it to you is this: I am alive in Christ, He loves me immensely and his grace cleanses me from sin. I am alive but I am also sick. I have accustomed myself to my personal comforts and I have separated myself from the suffering of a dark world. I have ignored the starving, and suffering even in my own town. I am alive; but I can’t keep comforting myself with that thought. I am grateful to be alive, but I still must do something about my sickness. This world seems overwhelming but my purpose is simplified. Love like Jesus loved. That is the challenge. That is the goal. After all, when we love the down and out, the hurting, the starving, the dreggs of society, we love Jesus Christ himself. We are having compassion for the one who had so much compassion for us.

Matthew 25:31ff
31"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his throne in heavenly glory. 32All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. 33He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.
34"Then the King will say to those on his right, 'Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. 35For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, 36I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.'
37"Then the righteous will answer him, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? 38When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? 39When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?'
40"The King will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.'
41"Then he will say to those on his left, 'Depart from me, you who are cursed, into the eternal fire prepared for the devil and his angels. 42For I was hungry and you gave me nothing to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me nothing to drink, 43I was a stranger and you did not invite me in, I needed clothes and you did not clothe me, I was sick and in prison and you did not look after me.'
44"They also will answer, 'Lord, when did we see you hungry or thirsty or a stranger or needing clothes or sick or in prison, and did not help you?'
45"He will reply, 'I tell you the truth, whatever you did not do for one of the least of these, you did not do for me.'

Dreaming Together.

Shane Claiborne said "The kingdom of God takes imagination." I have been blessed to be surrounded by dreamers. People who see no limits on the kingdom bring me joy. They help me to dream as well. When I'm around them I think that maybe, just maybe, I'm not crazy. They make me think that radical discipleship among the common man is more than possible. If it isn't, I'm screwed. I never thought I'd find dreamers here in Goshen.

Called to Love

I just stopped in to visit a friend from Maple City Chapel. The guy is in a wheelchair because he had his leg amputated above the knee due to issues with circulation. More recently he almost lost his left foot as well. Besides the fact that all of this has caused increased stress in an already stressful family situation, his medical conditions are background information.

Over the last few months I've had the opportunity to work with their son (16yrs) who has some pretty interesting views towards life and an amazing ability to bring the topic of girls he finds attractive into almost any genre of discussion. God has done some awesome things in the life of this guy and his family in the last few months, things I wouldn't have expected to find. Frankly, things I don't think God expected me to try to accomplish.

Lately I've had reaffirmed in my mind the idea that God doesn't call us to change people (that's His job); but he does call us to drastically love and serve people. I have to think about a few specific people that I've tried to change over the years. I think I have spent too much time trying to change them, and not enough time simply loving them as Jesus loved them. Had I done that I probably would actually have seen more results and less frustration on my part.

I was reading through Mark this morning. Jesus called people to a changed life, but He seemed more concerned with loving them first, simply having compassion. Ok so he did yell at some people, but he ended up yelling at the important, well to do, leaders of the time. I think I've flipped the example around.

It's easy to get frustrated and try to yell some common sense into people. Unfortunately common sense doesn't change a heart, just some actions. God is interested in changing hearts, he does that through our love for others.

I need to learn to love. No I take that back, I need to learn to love others. I already tend to do too good of a job at loving myself.

The Gospel for Sale

While in Colombia our group did a sketch that illustrated the creation and fall as well as Christ's redeeming love. This is all done to a sound clip, very beautiful. Very powerful.

After one of the services an excited young Colombian man approached me with a notepad. He spoke broken english; but between his broken english and my broken spanish he was able to ask where we found the sound clip and if he could find it as well.

I am amazed by the power of drama and sound to capture the heart and plant the seeds of the gospel. God has truly given great gifts to his people in order to spread his kingdom. And apparently he has also provided them with a lucritive business opportunity.

I went to the youth pastor who was leading our group to ask him how our passionate brother in Christ could procure this gospel tool. "Oh well you just have to go to the website of a well known short term missions group and purchase it for $180" So I had to go back to this guy and watch his heart drop as I told him that this wonderful tool of the gospel that he was so willing to take to anyone within his reach would cost him fifty to seventy percent of his monthly income. He wrote down the information; but not quite as excitedly as he had previously been.

Ok I'm not exploring all the options here to be quite honest. I'll email said short term missions group and see if they could cut this guy a break. We'll come back to this.

Seeing Jesus in Columbia.

It's been a week now that I've resided in Bogota, Colombia. I'm not sure what I expected to find; but I'm sure what I found wasn't what I would have expected. There are two aspects of this trip that stick out in my mind (well besides traveling as a loud obnoxious American in a big tourist group). Maybe it would be better to say there are two people who stick out in my mind. 

The first man is Steve Bartel. Steve has been ministering to street kids in Colombia for about 25 years now. They are currently building a second 4,000 square foot home to house another family of street kids. He also has a vision for about 33 more homes on their 40 acres of mountainous land. He has quite an amazing vision. It is not this vision however that grabbed my heart so much, it was his love. 

The love in this man was spectacular, his humility was genuine. When he talked about any of their projects or visions it was entirely through the lens of compassion for hurting people who needed Jesus. I apologize I can't articulate any better what I experienced in meeting this man other than this. There are certain people I have run into whose heart is that of Jesus and it seeps out of their pores. It was evident to me that this man was a friend, a close friend, of Jesus.

The second individual was Lillian Griffin. Amazing singer, faithful servant of God, and a Buckeye fan to boot. Her and her boyfriend Leo Morales (probably the most accomplished guitarist that I've had a chance to talk to) ministered to our group with word and song. It wasn't, however, till after the rest had left that I was blessed richly. I stayed up an hour and a half or so after the rest left, to talk with Leo and Lillian. Once again I saw Jesus and his heart in both of them. They encouraged me more than I have been in a long time. Every word they spoke gave me more courage as they talked of ministering to the poor both in Colombia and in the States. 

So what to I take away from this trip. The visions of our heart take courage, lots of courage; but we have to start somewhere, we have to do something. Those around us need to see a glimpse of the kingdom (christians and non) in action, I myself am starving for it. I'm still spending to much time looking for it. Sometimes we don't have the option of following the obvious leader who can show us the way. No, I take that back, I do have an obvious leader who walked this earth for 33 years. I guess it's just hard to follow an example I haven't seen modeled significantly by myself or those around me. May our Jesus give us courage to chase what we have not attained. And may He give us the continual reminder that we have not yet attained it.

Dios Te Bendiga

Hace todo en Amor a Jesus.

We Are Rich

Half the world — nearly three billion people — live on less than two dollars a day.

More than 80 percent of the world’s population lives in countries where income differentials are widening.

The poorest 40 percent of the world’s population accounts for 5 percent of global income. The richest 20 percent accounts for three-quarters of world income.

Around 27-28 percent of all children in developing countries are estimated to be underweight or stunted. The two regions that account for the bulk of the deficit are South Asia and sub-Saharan Africa.

If current trends continue, the Millennium Development Goals target of halving the proportion of underweight children will be missed by 30 million children, largely because of slow progress in Southern Asia and sub-Saharan Africa.

Based on enrolment data, about 72 million children of primary school age in the developing world were not in school in 2005; 57 per cent of them were girls. And these are regarded as optimisitic numbers.

Nearly a billion people entered the 21st century unable to read a book or sign their names.
Less than one per cent of what the world spent every year on weapons was needed to put every child into school by the year 2000 and yet it didn’t happen.

Infectious diseases continue to blight the lives of the poor across the world. An estimated 40 million people are living with HIV/AIDS, with 3 million deaths in 2004. Every year there are 350–500 million cases of malaria, with 1 million fatalities: Africa accounts for 90 percent of malarial deaths and African children account for over 80 percent of malaria victims worldwide.

According to UNICEF, 26,500-30,000 children die each day due to poverty. And they “die quietly in some of the poorest villages on earth, far removed from the scrutiny and the conscience of the world. Being meek and weak in life makes these dying multitudes even more invisible in death.”

(information taken directly from http://www.globalissues.org/TradeRelated/Facts.asp)

It's not that we don't care; it's that we don't see, and so we don't do. Only when issues become faces are our hearts filled with compassion.

The above photo is of a Sudanese Child crawling towards a refugee camp. He was only a mile away. The photographer did nothing to help the child. Overrun with remorse he killed himself two months later.

Jesus have mercy on us not only for the things we have done, but also for the things we haven't done.

I feel like my gut has been hit with a sledge hammer. There has been a shadow in the back of my mind that something may be drastically wrong. I'm pretty sure now, something is. The weight of the blow has caused a turmoil in who I am and what I do. Massive sections of what I view as a complete life (or at least have lived like) are crumbling. To continue as things are would be to continue with a continual shadow haunting me; that something is drastically wrong.

In the world there is immense hurt, immense suffering, immense need. The extent of my response to that hurt, suffering, and need, has been to dip my toes in it (and to be proud of my accomplishments) When I feel like I've reached my comfortable limit, or maybe even stretched myself just a bit just to ease my conscience, I retreat from the darkness. I have hope, I have life, I have healing, and for crying out loud I have resources! I spend them all on myself. I am marginalized from the hurting of the world. I keep myself in a circle of happy middle class friends. I keep my eyes from seeing the pain. If my heart really saw the pain of the impoverished I would have to respond. That would be too difficult.

I am between a rock and a hard place. I see that something is drastically wrong. I see that the terminology of taking up our cross implies something difficult and painful. The price I have paid for my faith is minimal, the amount I have labored with difficulty is miniscule. I long for a kingdom that counts for something; but I'm not sure where to find the courage to see it come. I read scripture and see the glory and immensity of the gospel; it puts a weight on my soul as I reflect only a tiny trickle of it's glory. To ignore my feelings would be to numb myself to reality, to follow them would cost me (maybe for the first time in my life).

I know I am loved by my Father. He continues to pour that love out on all his children. In fact even now in the face of my drastic apathy His love and grace is even more drastic. His words to me are gentle and sure; but it is His love burns in me and convicts. His compassion cries out for the poor, the destitute, the down and outs of society, the unlovable, the worthless. Pretty much everyone I don't see much of in my life. I am repulsed by my own inaction in light of his love for myself and for them.

I have tried to turn God into something entirely too safe. I have turned him into a God that challenges me enough to make life somewhat exciting, without infringing on the entirety of my life. I love C.S. Lewis' portrayal of God "He is by no means a safe God, but He is very good." What does it mean if Jesus said it will be costly to follow him and it hasn't really cost me anything? I have asked for Joy and peace without difficulty and suffering. The extent of my persecution has been a muffled form of what pretty much everyone in the world goes through in their lives.

A friend said "maybe you should stop talking about doing things and do them."

Joe, if you're reading this, I see now why you stopped writing.

Some of my Favorites.

Today is just about laughs. Here is a tidbit that involves one of my favorite writers and one of my favorite Bible stories.

C.S. Lewis and his friend Charles Williams once toyed with the idea of writing a book telling various Bible stories from the point of view of the animals mentioned in them.

For instance, with regard to this story they imagined two bears ambling through the woods having a philosophical debate about the existence and character of God. After the unexpected meal of the naughty boys, the bears would walk back into the woods together agreeing at last that yes, God does exist and yes, he is good.

Finding What I'm not Looking For.

Colossians 3:1-3

So if you're serious about living this new resurrection life with Christ, act like it. Pursue the things over which Christ presides. Don't shuffle along, eyes to the ground, absorbed with the things right in front of you. Look up, and be alert to what is going on around Christ—that's where the action is. See things from his perspective.

It seems sometimes -much of the time- that ministry happens when we aren't even looking for it.

The last few days have been rather ordinary and yet complete. I have found myself stopping continually and focusing on the moment. Each moment has not simply been a moment where I need God to get through it; each moment has been in itself opportunity to connect with the creator, a moment to spend with Him, a moment in itself equally as important as any other.

Yesterday I was blessed to be used in one of the most meaningful ministry opportunities I have ever experienced. After lunch I took off from work and was going to run some errands when I received a phone call. Long story short, I had the opportunity to help a son open up his heart to his father. I was blessed to see a son forgive his father, tell him he loved him, and give him a hug. I feel ridiculously blessed to be a part of what my Father is doing.

Funny thing is this blessing came when I really wasn't looking for it, just as with the seeming explosion of ministry opportunities that have happened in the past three months. I have tried to make myself preoccupied with God, obsessed with connecting with Him. Even at the expense of 'ministry' I just want to commune with Him. I have given up trying to find what the heck God wants me to do and have just tried to find God. The result, I finally am learning to contently continually commune with Him; and I have found more ministry than I have ever experienced at any other period of time.

I pray that I won't start to look at this as a 'method for ministry.' The point of my existence is not to 'do ministry' it is to know and follow Jesus wherever He goes, it is to be in communion with God. Out of this flows peace, joy, compassion, love, righteousness.... and ministry. When we walk with Him He points out things that He sees and tells us how He feels about it, it is then that we can respond to God's heart and be genuine kingdom workers.

Out of sync... once again.

The fulfillment of our existence is communion with our Creator. All of life flows out of this Father-child relationship. How easily children forget.

Relationship with the Father is difficult. It is hard to chase after a transcendent God. Heck, it's hard enough building relationship with human beings that we can see. How much more difficult is talking to an invisible beyond us yet with us God who often seems eerily silent? Sometimes I feel like Pharisaical rules would be much easier. I guess that's why it's so easy to fall into legalism.

Relationship takes work. I continue to be encouraged to be continued by the heart of Brother Lawrence. He had no drastic theology, no theatrics, just relationship. He had methods in the relationship of course; but they were a means to an end, not the end themselves. I am also encouraged that his continual communion with God took time to develop (once again like human relationships). Getting to know God is just that, getting to know God. It takes time, it grows. Sometimes it takes a lot of time.

Getting to know God is more normal than we want it to be -but not less extraordinary. In its fullest form, the presence of God is not us convulsing on the ground in the face of a beaming light. In the garden, Adam and Eve walked with God in the cool of the evening and talked with Him. We tend to always expect brokenness, always expect overwhelming emotion, always expect a 'blast of the spirit.' These things are a dynamic of our relationship, just as certain times with very close friends are emotional; yet I don't feel that something is wrong in those close friendships if things are just normal at times. Is it blasphemous to say that sometimes relationship with God is just normal life? I really don't have an answer to that one.

It seems much easier to lose contact with God than get in touch with Him. It seems that most days that I actually connect with my Dad I get all excited about his heart and run down some trail of thought or action and pretty soon my attention shifts from His heart to my actions; and I set off on a journey He wants to take me on, without Him. One day I'll learn.

I want to see every moment, every breath through his heart. Any act of compassion, any train of thought, any theological perspective that lacks the life giving blood of Jesus being pumped from the heart of God is a waste of time.

When will the daily and the divine ever collide in my life?