butterfly-ing

I had coffee with a friend of mine yesterday.  He is a fascinating person.  When he and his wife should be looking hard at retirement, they are instead leaning into God’s plan.  When they should be staying close to medical facilities due to his wife’s advancing scleroderma, they continue to run an orphanage five hours south of El Paso, Texas.  Amazing.

Our conversation somehow veered toward talking about each of our experiences working on Native American Reservations.  Many years ago he worked as a Special Education teacher on a Ute Indian Reservation in the Four Corners area.   This was a hard but wonderful time as he came to understand and appreciate the wonder and beauty of the Ute culture. 

On many evenings he taught ESL classes for adults.  During one lesson he was using the example of a butterfly to help the class better understand the specificity inherent to English.

“A butterfly walks along a leaf.  A butterfly drinks the nectar from the flower.  A butterfly flaps its wings and flies.”

He thought this was a simple lesson on the various ways English can be used to describe basic activities.  The students just stared in bewilderment.  They didn’t get it.  And though he kept repeating himself, describing over and over again the different actions a butterfly may perform, it wasn’t connecting to the students.  Finally a young woman in the class spoke up.

“We understand what you are saying.  But we don’t understand why you would say it.  We understand that a butterfly does all those things.  But where you focus on each individual act, we would simply say the butterfly is ‘butterfly-ing’.  All the things you describe are part of what it does, not what it is.  When a butterfly is flying, walking or drinking, we would say it is ‘being’.  That is the difference between you and us.  You focus on the pieces and we see the whole.”

As a friend of mine would say, “That’ll preach.”  This woman understood a drawback to westernized thinking.  We can focus on the parts and miss the whole.  We tend to compartmentalize.  To divide and conquer.  To distill issues, actions and even relationships down to manageable chunks.  But in doing this, we so often miss the big picture.  We miss the “being-ness” of life.

I will sing praise to my God while I have my being.  Psalm 104:33

How much healthier would I be if I spent more time “being” and less time “doing”?  My efforts to improve my actions often obscure and distract me from the man God has redeemed me to be.  I have become an expert in distilling down and picking at parts that need improvement, but missing the truth of who I am.  Maybe the answers lie more in understanding in stillness what God has created me to be.  Instead of walking, drinking and flapping, maybe I need to start “butterfly-ing”.

Be still, and know that I am God Psalm 46:10

Taste and See

Several months ago I printed out all of Romans chapter 12 and taped it to the wall next to my desk.  This was in response to a mentor challenging me to memorize it.  Though I can’t honestly say that I have committed the entire passage to memory, it has begun to burrow its way into my thoughts.  As the words wriggle deeper into my mind, I sense a turning.  A turning away from anxiety, away from pride, away from pretension. 

As a “vocational pastor” it is too easy a temptation to approach Scripture with a clinical eye.  I’ve been taught exegesis, isogesis, textual criticism, and many other “isms”.  All continue to be useful tools for interacting with the Word of God.  Yet none of those scholarly techniques come close to the transformative power of simply soaking in the Water of Life.

The Father wants us to know His Word.  He wants us to “bind it on our foreheads”.  He does not however, want our disciplines and techniques to leave us with Scripture that is like a bowl of chips left out all night—tasteless and stale.

Taste and see that the LORD is good. Oh, the joys of those who trust in him!  Psalm 34:8

I challenge you to print out Romans 12.  Tape it up somewhere that you will encounter it daily and naturally.  Read it with your heart.  Read it with your mind.  Allow it to wash over and through you.  Taste and see that God’s Word is good.

i do myself

“I do myself”, says my three-year-old son.

This past Fourth of July we tried something new as a family—tubing.  Great friends of ours have a boat and have been offering to take all of us out on Standley Lake for weeks.  Monday, the fourth, was the first time we could get our schedules to line up.

Our kids were practically vibrating with glee as they ran through the house getting their swimsuits on and gathering up stuff for the lake.  Every 2-3 minutes one of our foursome would run up and say to me, “We’re going to the lake today!”  It is one of my simple and great joys to see unrestrained happiness scrolling across the faces of my children.

Everyone was about to walk out the door when I noticed our three-year-old son whimpering in a corner.  He had managed to pull his t-shirt over his head, but was struggling to get his arms in.  Standing there he looked like some redheaded mini-version of Houdini in a straightjacket.  It was obvious that he was stuck and in need of assistance.

“Here honey, let me help you.” I said.  “No Daddy.  I do myself” he replied.

After watching him struggle valiantly for a little while I finally stepped in and popped his arms through.

“NO DADDY!  I DO MYSELF!!”

Bursting into tears, he ran into my wife’s arms crying as though I had ran over the family dog.  He was inconsolable.  How dare Daddy help him with his shirt?  How could Daddy to so inconsiderate as to take away this small slice of independence?

“Daddy was just trying to help”, my wife says.

Zach isn’t having it though.  From his perspective, I insensitively inserted myself into a situation that he was seeking to control.  He was willing to struggle and suffer rather than give up his independence by asking for help.

“I do myself”, was all that mattered.

How many times have I said the same thing to God?  How many times have I been stuck in a corner, clearly in over my head?  Instead of accepting and calling out for my Father’s help, I defiantly stand with my fist in the air and shout, “I DO MYSELF!”

This July, in addition to celebrating our independence as a nation, let’s take some time and embrace our dependence on our Heavenly Father.  Walk out of our corners.  Take our fists out of the air and declare our dependence.

“I need help Daddy.”

If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.  Matthew 7:11

using the whole whale

“Use the whole whale.” 

This was a quote used in a breakout session I attended this week at the National Conference on Volunteerism and Service.  The session dealt with ways that nonprofits could partner with companies to achieve mutually beneficial goals.  The quote was used to highlight a paradigm shift in the way we think about resources.  Historically, when a nonprofit has approached a large company they do so hoping for a “partnership” which mostly means the nonprofit is looking for fresh cash.  Too often the scope of what they propose is narrowly focused on the money needed to achieve one specific goal.  I equate it to looking for a spouse based solely on their nasal features.  A potential spouse is much more than the nose on their face.

“Use the whole whale” comes from the way Inuit whale hunters utilized every part of the animal after a successful hunt.  Nothing went to waste.  This differed from the way commercial whaling fleets operated.  They would take the meat and blubber while leaving the rest.   They were so focused on one or two products that they missed the opportunities afforded by the rest of the whale.

D.C. Central Kitchen is a great example of the benefits of using the whole whale.  They are a nonprofit operating in our nation’s capitol.  Their tag line states, “Changing lives through meal service, culinary job training, street outreach, and the sustainable use of local resources.”  In a nutshell they serve 4,800 meals a day to low and no income families, children and individuals.  They began by offering meals in significantly underperforming schools.  The problem they kept running into was the high cost of quality produce.  Even though the large chains were giving them price breaks, it still didn’t leave much room to keep their heads above the tide of hungry students.  Then they changed their thinking.  They began looking at the “whole whale.”  Doing some research, they identified a few local Mennonite growers known for their savory produce.  Approaching them, they asked the farmers if they would allow their volunteers to glean from the fields whatever was left over after they had brought their crops in.  Since the produce remaining in the fields was slightly over or undersized for the likes of the commercial buyers the farmers normally sold to, it meant a fantastic boon for the D.C. Central Kitchen.  Through the application of this one idea, they were able to cut their produce costs dramatically.  “Use the whole whale” for them meant taking a fresh look at the way an acre of land was used.

What does it mean for you and I to “Use the whole whale?”  How does this principle apply in communities of faith?  First of all, it forces me to remember that the local church is not a building.  The building is a tool.  The church is the community of faith-followers seeking after the heart of Jesus through intersecting stories.  Each of those stories represents a life; that represents a relationship; that represents practical resources that could all be placed in service to the King.  Perhaps if we would expand our vision to take in the “whole whale” of God’s resources, we might find solutions to some of our most pressing needs.  How might the Kingdom of God be increased if we creatively expanded our vision regarding the resources of our local church?  In addition to utilizing the buildings and spaces we come together in, how much more could be done if we began to view our homes and neighborhoods as spiritual renewal centers.  There is a lot of whale that has yet to be used for the cause of Christ.

And all the believers met together constantly and shared everything they had. 

Acts 2:44

indelible

Now as they observed the confidence of Peter and John and understood that they were uneducated and untrained men, they were amazed, and began to recognize them as having been with Jesus. And seeing the man who had been healed standing with them, they had nothing to say in reply.  Acts 4:13,14

I love that passage.

Peter and John have been brazenly teaching about Jesus directly in front, and under the noses of the Jewish ruling elite.  Subtlety was not one of the markers of the early church movement.  There were no hidden meeting places or secret handshakes.  Everything the early church in Acts did was bold, simple and open for all to see.

This openness was partly the reason Jewish leaders were going to bed looking for first century versions of Tums or Pepcid AC.  If this new faith had been hidden and private, the Sanhedrin would have dispatched the temple guards to go all "Jason Bourne", on the believers and no one would have ever known.  Unfortunately, they did everything in full view of the public.  And if that wasn't bad enough, they seemed so jolly all the time.

They worshiped together at the Temple each day, met in homes for the Lord's Supper, and shared their meals with great joy and generosity.  Acts 2:46

This left the Sanhedrin in quite a pickle.   They desperately wanted to squash this emerging sect, but public opinion combined with high visibility was making things difficult.  And it wasn't getter any better.

And the Lord was adding to their number day by day those who were being saved. 

Acts 2:47

Enter Peter, John and a 40-year-old cripple.  Walking up to the Temple gate one day Peter and John are hollered at by some random beggar.  Heading over to him, they see that he is crippled.  The passage doesn't tell us how, but it includes an interesting detail about the duration of his handicap—“crippled from birth”.  This man didn't recently come down with some paralyzing ailment.  No.  He has been afflicted with a debilitating situation his entire life. 

It is reasonable to assume that his life for years has consisted of waking up, being hauled by friends or family members to the Temple steps, submitting himself to public humiliation in hopes for a small handout, then clawing his way back to whatever hovel he sleeps in.  Day after day, month after month, year upon year.  His voice and face indelibly etched in the eyes and ears of all who frequented the Temple.

This man calls out to Peter and John, begging for money.  Casting sideways glances at each other, Peter responds by telling the man that he has no money to offer.  He does however offer the person and power of Jesus the Messiah.

In the name of Jesus Christ the Nazarene--walk!  Acts 4:6

We know what happens next.  We've read the story and know that the man is healed and can now walk again.  But there is an important phrase that we miss.  Three words that reveal the power, redemption and joy of the moment.

"With a leap . . ."

The man didn't slowly and painfully gather himself up as though the miraculous healing slowly reset age old wounds.  He didn't simply stand and start walking.  He leaped.  In full view of all those gathered around the Temple steps he sprung for joy.  Though his handicap had defined his past, the power of Christ now indelibly etched itself across his present.

This was a problem for the Jewish leaders.  Everyone knew who this man was.  He had been begging at the Temple for years.  His story was well known.  Now, his healing and transformation were equally well known.  It would be pointless to try and discredit his story.  It was impossible to argue with the permanent, immediate and indelible change that had occurred.

And seeing the man who had been healed standing with them, they had nothing to say in reply.  Acts 4:14

I love the simple power of this story. 

Painful past + redemptive message multiplied by saving grace = leaping for joy. 

Try as they might, the Sanhedrin could not deny the transformation that had taken place.  Like trying to wash a tattoo off with hand soap; no matter how hard they scrubbed, its wasn't going away.  This man's transformation was indelibly marked in the minds of everyone. 

Indelible change is the one thing that an unbelieving and hostile world cannot confront.  As the first century Jewish leaders realized, there is “nothing to say in reply” to an authentically transformed life.

in·del·i·ble 

making marks that cannot be erased, or removed,

that cannot be eliminated, forgotten, changed, or the like

both/and

This April we will be celebrating my youngest son’s third birthday. As clichéd as it sounds I must say, “It seems like just yesterday...” As with all my kids, the events leading up his birth are stamped into my brain. Like for example the day we had the ultrasound that would tell us the gender of our new little sea monkey.

With two boys and a girl already bouncing around our house, we were somewhat hopeful for another girl to balance things out. Yet, like most parents we were mostly concerned with having a healthy human being. Therefore we weren’t particularly invested one way or the other when it came to the sex of our wee one.

Arriving at the doctor's office we were quickly shuttled into our private screening room. Shortly after shellacking Julie’s expanding belly with jell-o they were able to get a picture of our baby. At least that's what we were told. Parents will tell you though that the image they point to looks decidedly not human. In fact what I saw looked mostly like a three dimensional Rorschach test.

“Congratulations Mr. and Mrs. Thomas, you're the proud parents of an inkblot.”

The doctor then proceeded to point out in specific detail the many physiological reasons we would be having a girl. “If you look here, and here, you will see clearly that you will be having a girl.” His rationale was solid; and not having experience reading inkblots, we assumed he was correct. That was until he left and the lead nurse came in. Walking purposely over to the ultra-sound machine and glancing at the results she declared, “Congratulations on your new baby boy.”

“What?” we say. “The doctor told us it was a girl.”

“Hmm. He did?” she replies. “That’s not what I’m seeing.” “It’s pretty clearly a boy.”

Again, we are taken through the 7th grade health class anatomy lesson detailing all the obvious reasons why we are having a boy. Now we are concerned. Two different specialists have presented clear arguments that are mutually exclusive. Either it’s a boy or a girl. The doctor and the nurse cannot both be right. It’s either one or the other. Both can’t be true.

“Either or” is a big deal for us as humans. Either you are male, or female. Either you are here, or there. Either yes or no. Either you like it, or you don’t. Either you prefer country, or you enjoy actual music.

“Will you marry me?” The options are either yes, or no. There is no middle ground. There is no allowing for both/and. We expect answers with clearly defined edges. We either want the veal piccata or chicken marsala. We don't want both. We want one or the other. Either this, or that. The idea of yes and no is troubling. We generally don't have room in our practical philosophy for things that are "this" and "that". Two plus two is four. It is not four and nine. Interestingly enough though, the concept of mutual exclusivity existing in literal harmony is at the core of who God is.

For in Christ lives all the fullness of God in a human body. Colossians 2:9

Don't let yourself gloss over the craziness of that verse. Too often, we pass through scripture like pushing a cart through a grocery store isle. The products we pass mostly fade into the background until we find the one item we are looking for. Resist the temptation to shuffle by this verse on your way to a "better" one. Albert Barnes' notes on the New Testament says this of Colossians 2:9, "The meaning is, that it was not any one attribute of the Deity that became incarnate in the Saviour; that he was not merely endowed with the knowledge, or the power, or the wisdom of God; but that the whole Deity thus became incarnate, and appeared in human form." The incarnation of Christ confronts all of us with a profound and absurd both/and.

This is one of many reasons why Jesus is difficult to grasp. Was he a man? Was he God? The answers don't fit neatly into our human, four dimensionally cemented minds. How can Jesus, a man whose mother wiped his poopy bottom, also be the Creator of the cosmos? How can the omnipotent, omnipresent God of the universe, be a man who was tired and worn out often from the crowds of people that followed him? Yet it is this duality of his nature that makes him worthy of our service, sacrifice and devotion.

The incarnation proclaims to all creation the worthiness of Christ. He is not like the fictional god's of Olympus. Sitting high, mighty and removed from the dirt, pain and toil of their creations. He is not just a man like countless other men before him spouting high ideals, platitudes and knowledge of the divine.

I and the Father are one. John 10:30

Through the incarnation we a see a God full of love and compassion for his creation, one who taught us how to love and be compassionate to others;  one who unites Himself with us so that you and I can go beyond what we are capable of;  in the Incarnation Jesus has come as both God and Man to lead us to God, to an intimate union with God.

For God in all his fullness was pleased to live in Christ, and by him God reconciled everything to himself. He made peace with everything in heaven and on earth by means of his blood on the cross. Colossians 1:19-20

Dam violence

The Sun breaking through the pine trees.  It begins as a glow, then some rays of light, then it fully breaks through to the sun.  The shadows depart and gently roll away.  Is this symbolic of the resurrection? 

Was the resurrection gradual?  Was it like a light switch or did the Light systematically invade and over come the darkness?  Or was it both?  Perhaps it was gradual.  

Perhaps during that last dark night, the Light slowly and systematically worked its way into and through the darkness.  Like a single crack working it's way through a dam.  One crack becomes two, two become three, three become six.  Exponentially the cracks increase until the power and weight of the water become a force that can no longer be restrained. 

Then at last comes the violent overthrow of the restraining power of the dam.  Lands that were dry, desolate and lifeless are now given access to the redemption of life giving and sustaining water.  The violence subsides and newness of life begins.

Yet just as soon as the dam collapses, the engineers of sin and separation begin feverishly drawing up plans for new and stronger dams.  Though life giving water begins to irrigate a previously parched spirit, the threat of future droughts linger.  Without vigilance, the heavy machines of temptation, insecurity and pride will build anew a blockage of isolation from the life giving water.