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Lenten Prayers

Last year, during Lent, I started posting short prayers that were part of my personal Lenten practice. This year, I picked that practice back up. Here’s why I do it:

I believe the Christian tradition, and particularly the Christian discipline of prayer, has  a great deal to offer the world outside our tradition. I don’t believe prayer is an activity isolated to religious folks. Instead, I believe prayer is a primally human activity. We rejoice, we cry out, we thank, we want… we do any number of things that draw us and point us beyond ourselves. Prayer, as I understand it, is an acknowledgement and intentional practice of that activity.  I think the Christian tradition can offer language and form to this primal human function. And I think we can do so without raising a flag of colonization or ownership.  

It is in light of this that I have shared these short prayers via Facebook and Twitter.
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May my strength be rooted in peace rather than driven towards victory.

May I, amidst either applause or jeers, hear Your voice saying “Well done.”

May I look forward in hope rather than absolutize the present: knowing that things will not always be as they are.

May I know my capacity and be free of the burden of limitlessness.

May my interest in deciphering the Human Condition be eclipsed by my desire to respond to the Divine Will.

May have the freedom to fail, even at the things I care most about, knowing that my mistakes are not the end of me.

May I have the eyes to see this as a good world in need of restoration rather than a bad world and an obstacle to my peace and rest.

May I have the courage to believe that everything I do matters.

May I have the courage to believe that everything I do matters.

May I learn to make good out of what I’m given rather than only make sense of it.

Before I see someone as a problem may I see them as Yours.

May I be free of the burden of hate. Give me the courage to forgive.

May the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, guard my heart and mind in Christ Jesus.

Give me eyes to see people as valuable because they are Yours rather than valuable because I can gain something from them.

While I am impacted by my past, may it never rule me or define who I am today.

Forgive me for thinking you useful and believing I can charm you into alignment with my way.

Deliver me from coldness of heart and a wandering mind. Place within me steadfast love and devotion.

May I take joy in bearing witness to great deeds and works without having to be the source of them.

May I learn what it means to have ‘enough’ and abandon the relentless pursuit of ‘more.’ (inspired by Wes Stafford)

May it be enough for me to see God in the world

May I have hope for myself the way I do for others.

May I believe that newness is possible.

May love and forgiveness for others be less and less optional.

May love be stronger in me than the fear of the pain that comes with caring.

May I speak into the lives of those I love because I love them and not because I’m right.

May I love not only those who are not fortunate, but those who are; who have had success where I have not.

May I have the courage to expect good for my life and world along with resilience if/when those expectations disappointed.

May my hope for others never be darkened by my personal disappointments.

May my awareness of faults in myself or others never open the door to spite but grant me a deep appreciation for grace.

May my pursuit of happiness never come at the cost of someone else’s freedom to do the same.

May my value for this world and the people in it extent far beyond the uses I have for them.

May I have enough faith in the Truth that I happily abandon the temptation to sell it.

May I learn what it means to have ‘enough’ and abandon the relentless pursuit of ‘more.’ (inspired by Wes Stafford of Compassion International)

May the reality that I cannot know the whole truth give me freedom to talk about the part I can see rather than paralyze me.

May the urgency with which I approach my work never become anxiety. The world is not mine to save. (Inspired by the book “The World Is Not Ours To Save” by Tyler Wigg-Stevenson)

May love be stronger in me than the fear of the pain that comes with caring.

May I love those less fortunate than I am, as well as those who have had great success. Free me from the burden of envy.

May I have the eyes to see this as a good world in need of restoration rather than a bad world and an obstacle to my personal peace and rest.

May I take joy in the great deeds of others without having to be a part of them much less their source.

Though I know I am impacted by my past, may it never rule me or define who I am entirely.

May the depth and energy of my criticism be at least equaled by the depth of my commitment to help.

May have the freedom to fail, even at things I care about, knowing that mistakes aren’t the end of my process but part of it.

Before I see someone as a problem, may I see them as a human being.

May I have the courage to believe that everything I do matters.

May I have vision and courage to join God in the places He’s already working rather than feel responsible for bringing Him.

May I be the same in character and posture regardless of my circumstances. May I be an uncompromisingly whole person.

May I learn to make good out of what I’m given rather than only make sense of it.

May I find freedom in limitation – to fully love the life I have and not focus on what I lack

May I never grow tired of starting over or helping others do the same. My hope is always in renewal and resurrection.

53 days ago /  Tagged: , , 0

“…a God he likely does not know.”

I have come to believe that I can’t speak with any kind of wisdom or authority about the lives of people I don’t know. On a very practical level, I likely have only anecdotal information by which to evaluate their faith and process. But more importantly, if that person isn’t part of my life or congregation, they’re probably not someone I have been given to as a leader or pastor. And there are enough of those folks (people to whom I actually belong) to keep me happily busy.

I’ve been a pastor of Shelter Covenant Church since helping to plant the church in 1998. Our community is a small-to-medium sized group and I generally have some knowledge of what is happening in the lives of those I get to pastor. I really like knowing my community this intimately because, as I’ve written elsewhere, I believe that discipleship begins with trusting God is already up to something in someone’s life. 

What necessarily precedes my discipleship process then, is a more-than-cursory knowledge of someone’s life. I need to be close and listen carefully in order to faithfully “do my job” as a pastor. Only if I do the listening part do I get to help someone see and respond to what God is doing in and through them, rather than project my own hopes or agenda into their circumstance.

And when I have spoken to or about someone without having that proximity and without listening to know what God is likely up to, my words have generally been more revelatory of things inside me than they have been of Jesus.

118 days ago /  Tagged: , , , , 0
Haiti

On The Anniversary of Haiti’s 2010 Earthquake

On January 12, 2010, the morning after an earthquake leveled Port Au Prince, Haiti, eventually causing the deaths of 250,000 people, cable news networks reported large crowds of Haitians parading through the streets between the ruins of buildings, singing.  I remember CNN reporter Wolf Blitzer interpreting the scene as a display of “resilience and a determined will to go on.” But the songs they sang that day (and into the night) were not all songs of resolve; they were songs of lament, prayer and hopeful expectation.  “God have mercy” they sang as they marched. “Lord have mercy.”

As they walked past mounds of concrete and rebar where buildings had stood, that congregation of Haitians sang songs to God, the Creator. If you are like me, you find that scene both confounding and inspiring.  A people beaten down by Creation appealing to the Creator.   And yet where should I expect the unfulfilled desire for a better life to lead such a people? Where else should Haitians take their complaint?  To the Nations?  Which Nation?  Haitians have a long history of being enslaved, trampled, used and abused by the Spanish, the French, the United States and others.  After being treated unjustly by both Humanity and the Natural world, where does a people take their complaint?  Does their desire for justice lead anywhere at all?  And if not, then what are we to make of that desire in the first place? Is it only an absurdity?

I don’t believe so.

I believe the desire for Justice and Peace is as natural and common as the desire for food and shelter, even when that desire sets me at odds with the natural order of things.  Among the poor, the wishful desire for Justice is perhaps more poignant because the poor have more intimately experienced the insufficiency of Nature and Humanity to satisfy it.  For some of my friends who already consider faith something of an absurdity, the prevalence of religious faith among poor and oppressed people is the worst kind of absurdity.  Why would people decimated by economic “progress,” caught up in political chess-playing, manipulated by get-rich religious schemes and even beaten down by natural elements continue to hope in a God whose world and people had been so cruel? And while I agree with friends who find such devotion somewhat absurd, I also think that wishing for things to be other than they are eventually leads to absurdity.  And it is there where I find religious thinking to be incredibly appropriate.

They way I understand it, religious thinking doesn’t mean lazily settling for magical explanations when there are better, more reasonable and factual explanations.  Sometimes it’s dissatisfaction with the facts themselves that leads me to a thought like “I know the facts but I wish it were not so.”  Now, I know that I share those thoughts with friends who do not consider themselves religious, so maybe calling them “religious thoughts” isn’t helpful. Maybe it’s simply human to wish for, long for and even be driven by visions of a world without disease or hunger or natural disaster, in which people are not bought and sold by other people.  And if it is simply human to desire justice, then maybe it is not so absurd to believe that desire can be satisfied.  Maybe what is truly absurd is possessing a very natural desire for Peace and Justice when that desire cannot reasonably be satisfied.

I have  believe that these unfulfilled (and perhaps unreasonable) dreams are clues that there is more to life than can be weighed and measured.  I believe that when those Haitian women and men took to their broken streets singing songs of prayer and hopeful expectation, they were a living picture of what is best in humanity; the part of us that does not settle for what is simply because it is. The part of us that struggles, works, prays and hopes for better than there is.  I believe their persistent, relentless faith is a clue that we are made of more than matter and therefore rightly long for more than the material world can offer.

—
*This is an excerpt from the the CMYK Book, due out this Spring.
**The featured image was shot by Jeremy Cowart as part of his brilliant “Voices of Haiti” project. The piece of debris this man is holding reads: “The Earth Can Shake But Haiti Remains In My Heart.”
127 days ago /  Tagged: , , , 1
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New Year, New You,.. Right?

Today is January 8th. That likely means we have had sufficient time to falter in or altogether quit on our New Year’s resolutions. Right? Judging by my Facebook and Twitter feeds, that is the prevailing sentiment, at least as it is measured in jokes.  But I’d like to suggest that the commitment to develop new patterns or even find an entirely new way of life is nothing to laugh off, no matter how we might stumble toward that goal. Our bumbling efforts might be comedic in practice but the desire for newness is as serious a matter as there is.

In the 1998 Billy August version of Les Miserables, Inspector Javert hatches a plan to investigate every person in the city of Vigo. His hope is to uncover the histories of Vigo’s citizens and identify potential criminal threats. Mayor Jean Valjean doesn’t like that plan. This is the conversation that follows:

Valjean:  Sometimes people move to a new town to start with a clean slate. You might be doing harm by prying into their private lives.

Javert:  An honest man has nothing to fear from the truth. For example, . . . my father was a thief. My mother was a prostitute. If my mother or father were to move here I would want everyone to know who and what they are.

Valjean:  Even if they had reformed themselves?

Javert:  Reform is a discredited fantasy. Modern science tells us that people are, by nature, law breakers or law abiders. A wolf can wear a sheep’s clothing but he’s still a wolf.

Javert believes that a man is simply “the way he is” and that hope rests in containing the damage “bad” people do to themselves or their world. If he is right then our resolutions to change aren’t worth much in the end.  Maybe they’d only be worth laughing at as many of us are doing at our own resolutions right now.  But Jean Valjean believes a different story: that a man can change and that newness is possible.  That is the story Valjean has lived since his time in prison.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, I side with Valjean and with the story’s original writer, Victor Hugo. I sincerely and uncompromisingly believe that people can change.  I’m seeing newness even now in the transformed lives of people who had previously been labeled ‘failures’ by their families and friends. I’ve seen it countless times in loved ones who have kicked booze or porn after working their twelve steps; sometimes for the first time and sometimes for the seventy-seventh time. Admittedly the road to newness is often long and difficult… but I believe the end of that road is good.

I also believe that the glimpses of newness and change you and I falter toward daily are foreshadowings of the newness promised  in Scripture. A promise that after every long road has been travelled and every effort to  change has been exhausted, God makes all things new. And if that is the character of the God whose world we live and struggle in, then I believe there is hope for change in me and you regardless of the depth of our need. Another way to say this is to say that I believe the arc of human history bends toward renewal. And expecting that renewal for ourselves locally and personally propels us in the direction of the grain rather than against it.

So what is it you hoped would change?  That you could lose weight? Quit smoking? Wake up earlier? Or is it something deeper in your soul? Something you have already judged “immovable” and yet characteristic of your identity?  Here is my encouragement:  Be resolute. Commit yourself to the process of transformation with a heart full of hope. Not only because it is within your strength to change but because, as my friend Don Chaffer of Waterdeep has written, the long, hard road we are on has a good, good end.

—

You can leave right now
You can ring a bell
You can tell ‘em you think I ain’t doin’ too well
But when I stood like you 
I eventually fell
So you can leave right now
Go on and ring your bell  

I’m amazed by life
And it’s amazed by me
We’re a strange old pair- me and eternity
It don’t make good sense
It ain’t easy to see
But I’m amazed by life
And it’s amazed by me 

It’s a long hard road
With a good, good end
And if I keep on walking on past the crooked bend
I will meet my Maker
I will meet my Friend
It’s a long hard road
With a good, good end

-”Good, Good End” by Waterdeep

 

 

131 days ago /  Tagged: , , , , , 0

The Incarnation and the Every Day

Part of the power the Incarnation story has for me is the 30 years of silence before the recorded part of Jesus’ life.  That silence says to me that until he was baptized by John, Jesus lived a life that was quite literally unremarkable, since nobody found much in it worth marking.  Many days, I find my life to be somewhat unremarkable; I work, I eat, I rest, I have time with family and friends… not even a flash of shekinah glory.  Some days I come to the end of wondering where the time went.  I am encouraged that Jesus lived such a life as well, at least for a time.

Unlike many other ancient Incarnation stories wherein a god takes on human form for a while and only to serve a special purpose, the God of the Bible, The Creator, The Name Above All Names, not only becomes a human being,…

He is carried in woman’s body…

born to that woman…

raised in a family with parents who taught him to feed himself…

had siblings..

had friends…

lived in a particular community…

held a job…

Which says to me that these things are not insignificant in their normality; that God finds it worth spending most of a human lifetime attending to simple things like work and neighbors and friendships and family.

In “The Magnificent Defeat” Frederick Buechner weaves together a series of extra-Biblical accounts of Jesus’ birth, written from the perspective of characters who appear in the Gospel account but don’t get much air-time. In the mouth of a shepherd who had heard the Angelic announcement, he places these words:

“That night (It was) like finally coming to– not things coming out of nowhere that had never been before, but things coming into focus that had been there always. The air wasn’t just emptiness any more. It was alive. And what you always though was silence stopped being silent and turned in the beating of wings, thousands and thousands of them. Only not just wings, but voices… high, wild like trumpets. The words I could never remember later, but something like what I’d yelled with my mouth full of bread “By God, it’s good, brothers! Everything. Everything!”

That is part of the power of the Incarnation for me: That God not only abides mundane things, but dwells in them and does so gladly. That he dwells in me and my work and my community… and in the old porn theatre with aged brown carpeting where my community gathers on Sundays to celebrate and remember the One who is beyond naming, perfect in power, glorious and majestic.. and who was carried in the womb of a teenaged girl and born into the world just as I was.

It means everything matters.

146 days ago /  Tagged: , , , , 8

I Don’t Like Saying “Thanks.”

These are some thoughts I pulled together for sermon on last year on Thanksgiving. 
—-

“Thanks”
I don’t like saying “thanks.”  ”Thanks” is short for “Thank you,” which is, itself short for “I thank you.”  Which means that, with every reduction of the phrase, another human element of it is cut out.  First “I” am cut out and then “you” are, leaving only this disembodied, impersonal and directionless “thanks.” I think recognizing the human on the other side of a gift exchange means recognizing that a gift was given as the result of choice .  The gift-giver chose generosity and kindness over selfishness and greed and I believe that it is worth noting whenever someone chooses their better nature.

The english word “thank” comes from the same root as the word “think,” which means “to hold in one’s mind” or “to perceive.”  So, at least part of what I am saying when I say “thank you” is that I see the person at the other end of the exchange.  I am acknowledging that they are more than a vehicle for the distribution of goods and services; more than just an instrument of economy. 

“No problem”
In his insightful book “The Dangerous Act of Loving Your Neighbor,” author Mark Labberton laments the cultural shift from responding with “You’re welcome” to responding with “no problem,” writing that  “The phrase assumes that the service offered is primarily measured by the cost to the one serving….”

I can think of ways I’ve expressed this sentiment:

No problem… It was on my way
No problem… I had an extra
No problem… Because you’ll pay me back
No problem… It didn’t cost me anything

But if it was a problem, I would be less likely to have done it.

Labberton goes on: “The fact is, however, that a lot of the service we need to receive and offer is really going to be a problem… Our lives are meant to carry and share in the problems of others.. That’s called love… Our goal is not to keep the cost of love as low as possible.”

Which is why, along with the author, I prefer the words “You are welcome.”

“To say ‘you’re welcome’ carries with it an acknowledgement of the dignity of the person who thanked you, your intentionality as the giver and even the value of the gift.”

I would take this a step further and suggest that it is this sentiment “you’re welcome,” that frames the entire exchange.  Instead of giving according to the toll it takes on me, I give according to the relationship I have or desire to have with the recipient, welcoming them into my life, even if in a small way.

As a Christian, I find this most poignantly expressed in the timeless of John’s apostolic letter:

“We love because He first loved us.”

I am welcomed by God through Christ which means that I am welcomed by way of the Cross.  When I give of myself to a world of people who are invited into relationship by God, I get to extend His welcome in acts of generosity and kindness.  When those acts are seen and I am thanked for them, I then have the opportunity to proclaim His welcome aloud.

179 days ago /  Tagged: , , , 1
Faithfulness always sets the stage for healing. And sometimes, faithfulness and consistency are what do the healing.

This is an excerpt from a longer sermon on the Book of Acts. 
–
In the third chapter of Acts is a striking story about John and Peter healing a man who could not walk.  Or, at least that’s how I’ve generally read the story; that it’s one about Peter and John healing a man.  But I’m beginning to see that it’s also about something more subtle but equally powerful.  On their way to the synagogue, they come across this man, who was taken by friends or neighbors to sit and beg at one of the city gates.  When he asks Peter and John for alms, Peter famously replies “silver and gold I have not, but what I have I give to you” and then proceeds to lift the man up, saying “in the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, rise and walk.”

For years I’ve read that story as bing about the “in-an-instant” healing. Only recently been struck by the other, pivotal part of this story. It’s in verse two. Five verses before the scene’s climax.

“People would lay him daily at the gate of the temple called the Beautiful Gate so that he could ask for alms from those entering the temple.”

Every day, friends or neighbors… someone would carry this man to the temple so that he could ask for help.

Every.
Day.

What happens if, on the day this striking and challenging story was to take place, those same folks had forgone their daily act of kindness and service?

You’re the teacher in whose classroom is that girl who is always on the edge of flunking out. Whose home-life is a mess and whose friends have already dropped out.

You’re the foster parent to a child who has been tossed around by his own family as well as the system.

You’re the friend to that fool who can’t stop shooting himself in the foot socially, financially and otherwise.

You’re the caseworker who has seen the same file dozens of times, over and over.

You’re the brother of a man whose addiction is devouring more and more of his life though he can’t see it or chooses not to.

Keep showing up. Keep teaching. Keep parenting. Keep caring. Keep working. Keep loving and telling the truth.  Because faithfulness always sets the stage for healing. And sometimes, faithfulness and consistency are what do the healing.

389 days ago /  Tagged: , , , 13
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Ted Nugent and Convicted Civility

Acting like a jerk in order to draw attention to my ideas doesn’t make my ideas more interesting, it makes me seem like a jerk. Of course, I’m thinking of Ted Nugent but also of the larger arena of conversation. I’m thinking of the hundreds of folks who applauded him yesterday and the many more who have applauded him since.

I don’t have many thoughts on Ted Nugent’s political positions.. I’m not interested in them. Not because I think I’ll disagree with him but because every time I’ve heard him communicate his ideas, he’s been insulting and degrading of those he disagrees with. Ideas that cheapen people are cheap ideas and rarely worth anybody’s time or effort to consider or even argue with.

At the Q conference in DC, I enjoyed watching Jim Wallis and Richard Land not only share ideas and share a stage but share a sincere and mutual respect for one another. Wallis is a prophetic and insightful leader of the political left, while Land is a brilliant commentator and champion on the political right.  They disagreed about Immigration, Abortion and the Federal Budget.. but not completely.. they met in several areas on each of those topics and their respect for one another framed their disagreement with hope that two brilliant and convicted men can work together for the common good.

At the same conference, Gideon Strauss introduced the room to a phrase I will be chewing on for the foreseeable future: “convicted civility.”  That respect for the opposing ideas of others, and more to the point, respect for those who hold those opposing ideas does not mean compromise of my convictions.  In fact, I ought to believe the things I believe with my whole heart and still engage in conversation with those who disagree about those things because people are more important than ideas.

People are more important than ideas.  In fact the goodness of an idea is established in the goodness it brings to people.  Therefore, my goal in engaging with ideas I disagree with cannot be the destruction (politically or otherwise) of the people who hold them.

395 days ago /  Tagged: , , 4

Sunday Reflection: Waiting On A Promise (Repost from April, 2011)


(Last year during Lent, I taught on King David and the way his identity defined his life’s work. This is a reflection from that teaching. Below is a short audio excerpt from the sermon.)

I sincerely believe God makes promises. Those promises can be awfully confusing in light of our circumstances.

Just before the prophet Samuel anointed David King of Israel he had installed Saul as King of Israel. What this meant for David was that he had to wait. Having been given this promise of identity, David then had to live for a time under circumstances that did not at all reflect that promise. In fact, during that time of waiting David has to serve and obey the man who “stood in the way” of his promised destiny.

Maybe you were promised something. Or maybe there is something you have always known about yourself but your life’s circumstances have dictated something different. Do you trust the things you were promised or do your circumstances dictate your understanding of yourself?

I’m not referring to the the scenario in which someone of my build laments his “shoulda-been” days as an NFL linebacker. This can obviously be abused and misunderstood…

…but after a series of failed relationships, should you buy the idea that you’ll always have to settle for a man whose love and consideration are fleeting at best?

…or after years of toiling away at jobs that suck the life out of you, should you buy the idea that you’ll never have fulfilling work doing something you’re good at; work that adds beauty to the world?

…and then there is this general “promise” many of us have some strange inkling of that some “good” is to come of all this.

I sincerely believe God makes promises. Some of them are quite personal and some are general. I want those promises to shape my hopes and expectations for my life and the lives of those I love rather than bow to the circumstances I often find myself in which say “those good things cannot be.”

427 days ago /  Tagged: , , , 0
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CMY(K): People Are Not Their Problems

In writing the letters that make up part of the CMY(K) project, I wanted to model an approach to pastoral practice that emphasized the Person rather than the Problem.  Eugene Peterson makes a compelling argument in his most recent memoirThe Pastor that far too much ministry focuses on relieving people of their problems; constantly calling attention to some issue or another.  I’m certainly guilty of this, myself.

But I am not defined by my problems and bristle at the thought of being primarily seen in the dark light of what is wrong with me.

The proper focus of Christian discipleship is the growth and shaping of a whole person who is loved by God as they are.  Discipleship is not the resolution or eradication of an individual’s set of issues so that they can become acceptable to God and His people.

In other words; in answer to questions I’ve been asked such as..

“Do you deal with homosexuality in your church?”
“Do you deal with doubt among your congregates?”

I would have to answer “No.” Not because sexual identity is unimportant or difficult to address or because everyone in my congregation is unshakably confident in the things they believe. But because I don’t want to “deal with” issues. I want to “deal with” people. I want to do my best, according to what wisdom I’ve been granted, to help them hear, interpret and then act on what they are hearing from God; trusting that He, in His wisdom, will speak to them about what specific things He is working on, shaping, changing or removing.

—

You can pick up all three CMY(K) ep’s at iTunes
You can find more about the CMY(K) project at http://cmykproject.info/
 You can dance if you want to. You can leave your friends behind here.

 

430 days ago /  Tagged: , , , 2
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