If not us, then who?

Like many people, I have found myself struggling to find a voice or a proper or sufficient message in these chaotic and uncertain times. What is the right thing to say? IS there a right thing to say? And how do we strike a balance between the emotion of the moment, the desire to empathize and take action and remain rooted in biblical truth, which transcends all our earthly circumstances? 

There are seemingly endless facets through which to view this challenge. For every Proverbs 31:8-9 (“Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves, for the rights of all who are destitute. Speak up and judge fairly; defend the rights of the poor and needy”), there is a Colossians 3:2 (“Set your mind on the things above, not on the things that are on earth.”) Without being inconsistent, is there a way to remain obedient to both of the declarations above?

One area that has been disheartening for me within the civil strife of the past couple of months has been a very vocal part of the evangelical community who appear opposed to any acknowledgement of the racial issues surrounding us. They believe (rightly) that the gospel is the answer to all of our problems, and that to speak to social circumstances with anything other than explicit gospel truth is misleading, or even heretical or an abandonment of our responsibility as believers. This approach strikes me as lacking in intellectual rigor, but I couldn’t put my finger on how to address it sufficiently. 

My moment of conviction happened just this past Sunday. Our church body has been working through the Undivided series of videos featuring J.D. Greear and Dhati Lewis. The series focuses on racial reconciliation and unity within the church, and I’ve been really thankful for the opportunity for frank discussions with our congregation. One of our elders was reflecting on the hurt that our nation is experiencing, and reminded us that the only real healing for it is found in Jesus. And it hit me like a ton of bricks:

If not us, then who? 

If we acknowledge that there is something broken, sick and damaged in our society, and if we believe that only Jesus can deliver us from it, how can we stay silent or “above the fray” in addressing it? It is not “woke” to state that many among us who, like us, bear the image of God, have been marginalized, oppressed, victimized or otherwise impacted by years of deep-seated racism and bigotry. Of course we want to present the gospel as the vehicle for real change, but that requires us admitting that change is needed. When you share the gospel with an addict, the need for restoration, healing, and freedom is likely a part of your message; it’s what he or she is wanting to change! If we aren’t willing to state a problem or a need for change, then why is the gospel even needed in that space? 

And if we as Christians decide that we really aren’t interested in engaging in the work of reconciliation as a component of the gospel, we have to recognize that someone else is going to do that work instead. Many in our nation have decided to tackle this problem in the past several weeks. Christians shouting “you’re missing the point” from the sidelines influences no one. We may come to find somewhere down the line that the solutions everyone else decided on are decidedly anti-gospel at their core - and we will have only ourselves to blame for not injecting Jesus into the discussion. 

Anyone who knows me will tell you that I think Christians should be very wary of getting too involved with politics. The God who created this earth, those who dwell in it, and the passions and emotions they experience, is more worthy of our affiliation than any political party or label. We do ourselves and our message no favors when we align ourselves too closely with positions of power and influence, when we open ourselves up to the accompanying pitfalls of corruption and greed. But more and more, I am convinced that this is not an excuse for apathy. Search your hearts and ask yourself what you are doing to advance the gospel. Ask yourself how that gospel work can potentially be focused into our cultural reality without compromising the beautiful truth at its center. And as you do so, trust that the Holy Spirit is able to work in whatever context, in any heart, to bring the lost to Christ. 

Hi, I'm David and I'm a Sinner...

I know it's been a while since I've written, but between work and starting back to school, unfortunately my writing has taken a back seat. And technically - this isn't a blog entry either. It's a slightly modified version of a paper I wrote for school. Recently, as part of our pastoral care coursework, we were asked to attend a local 12-step meeting and write about the encounter. For me, the experience was eye-opening, emotional and convicting. I refer you to my write-up below, in slightly edited form. I hope you can appreciate the takeaway.

For the purposes of our first assignment, I attended a local meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous. I was optimistic about the project initially, but as the time approached to actually go to the meeting, I could feel myself getting nervous. I talked briefly over the phone with the facilitator of this group prior to my arrival, to make sure I wouldn't be making anyone uncomfortable with my unexplained presence there. Clearly, I had a lot to learn. He just kind of laughed at my nervousness and told me it was no problem at all.

I have no point of references for these meetings, and I was determined not to let my consumption of popular culture's depiction of AA meetings seep in. Still, I was a bit surprised by the large size of the group. By the time everyone straggled in, there were 16 of us there, with an Al-Anon meeting going on just down the hall. One of the men, who must have been in at least his seventies, told us that his wife was in the other meeting, and that it was something they "could do together." I had made up my mind before arriving that I wasn't going to say anything, but simply observe - hopefully without staring or betraying any expressions that might appear to be judgmental. Later, I'll come back to how that decision worked out for me.

The facilitator opened the meeting with the serenity prayer, followed by a reading of the twelve traditions. At this point, everything felt very rigid and formal, and I perceived a bit of distance in the room. In fact, only one person had introduced himself prior to the meeting; everyone else either gave a slight nod or ignored me completely. I was preparing myself for a letdown, that this might be no more than some chanting and empty "admissions."

However, at this point, the facilitator turned the meeting over to (name withheld), who had been tasked with selecting a discussion topic for the evening. His topic was the issue of the past: how we deal with it, how it continues to impact us, and its importance or relevance in our current actions. And after the topic was laid before the group, people began to speak up. At that point, my impression of the evening shifted dramatically.

One man started by saying that he felt his past was incredibly important for him in remaining sober, sort of a cautionary tale at all times. Others focused more on living in the moment, and you could tell that for them, the past was something they had not been terribly willing to address. One woman even said as much, thanking (name withheld) for the topic and saying that she hadn't thought anyone else struggled with the idea of dealing with their past. She had actually brought her teenage daughter to the meeting, and spoke of how she had wasted the first four years of her daughter's life. Due to the topic being discussed, the step most mentioned was number nine - making amends with people that we have harmed.

I'd like to talk about how the group reacted to these stories, and compare it to my own reaction. I can say that I was unprepared for any kind of emotional connection or response to the meeting, mostly because I was unprepared for what one of these meetings would actually be like. By the time the third person was sharing, I could feel myself fighting tears. Now anyone who knows me will tell you that I am a crier; I'm not embarrassed or ashamed of it. But in this context, I was so consumed with being an observer rather than a participant, and with not distracting anyone who was there and perhaps struggling, that it became an internal battle to master the swell of visible emotion. This was necessary because what I saw was frankly beautiful. I wasn't having a reaction to the stories; I've heard enough stories of addiction, divorce and abuse in my time to be unsurprised by it, and even less surprised given the context in which I found myself. Instead, I was reacting to the atmosphere created by the participants in the room.

Everyone was listening...really listening. Some people were more active listeners, more willing to make eye contact or nod along, but it was clear just from simple observation that they were all hearing and relating to the other stories. And I know this will sound so astoundingly obvious, but I was struck by these people's empathy via shared experience. Of course they listened with a more sympathetic ear; they had all been there themselves! And I also noticed that no one in the room was trying to "fix" anyone else. I think it is a byproduct of the 12-step process that these folks all realize they are on their own timetables, and moving through the steps at a different pace. There were a few affirmations ("I'm glad you're here" was the most common phrase to hear after someone shared) and even some differences of opinion or experience, but it never once became a disagreement.  Again - it was a beautiful thing to be a part of.

The tone and air of the meeting was pretty light. The topic was obviously serious, and you could hear regret woven into most of what was shared. With the subject matter being "the past," that seemed only natural. People were reflecting on relationships lost - it was so saddening to hear story after story of destroyed marriages and the neglect of parental responsibilities - and on time wasted. But there was also hope in many of the stories. Those that were truly embracing the program were clearly seeing its benefits; one person referred to her low points as being the result of "a bad program" - meaning that she had overlooked or moved too quickly through certain steps.

At this point, I'd like to return to the topic of my role and behavior during the meeting.  The facilitator hadn't given me any instructions other than a request to keep everything anonymous. But he also didn't say anything to the group about who I was. Given that this was an open meeting, I don't think anyone questioned why I was there. And since I didn't share anything during the meeting, I am quite certain that they all assumed I was sharing in their struggles with alcohol and addiction. One of the women even  took my hand on her way out, told me she was glad I had come, and gave me the phrase I have been led to believe is common in 12-step groups: "Keep coming back." A few of the members even invited me to grab dinner with them afterward. I have to be honest: I felt miserable at that moment, like I was lying to these people who had let me into their group. But I left without revealing to them why I was there. I'm still not sure if that was right or wrong.

When I got back to my car, I let the emotions go. I just sobbed for a minute or two. Honestly, there was some pity and sadness in those tears. I'd heard heart-rending tales of loss, failure and back-sliding in just a short hour. But they were also the tears that cleanse. I had seen a group of individuals, bound by a common shortcoming, gather together to strengthen, comfort and exhort one another. I had seen them ultimately welcome me in, a stranger, and not pester me about personal information, commitment, or "where I stood" with my addiction. Instead, they allowed me to see behind the curtain of their struggles, and all they asked in return was that I honor the privacy of those struggles.

And then the "takeaway" hit me like a ton of bricks. In fact, I'd been slowly realizing it all evening. It's the thing I could write about for pages and pages, once the connection was made in my mind. It was simply this: that this is how the church should be toward the broken. We are all addicted to our sinfulness, and this addiction has cost us relationships, joy and a connectedness to our Creator. What we as a body of believers should offer to one another - and to all who enter our doors - is the same openness and understanding that I witnessed at this meeting. That anyone we encounter should ultimately feel safe, within a church context, to stand up in front of others and say "Hi, I'm David, and I'm a sinner." Then we can truly see Christ's healing and redemptive powers at work.

As the group was breaking up for the evening, I hung back for one final word with the facilitator. I thanked him for letting me be a part of the group, and asked if it might be okay if I came again sometime. He simply smiled, as he had before, and said, "it's an open meeting." It was a fitting end to an eye-opening, exhilarating evening, and the perfect last phrase in my analogy. May our churches be "open meetings" where those who are weary from sin, unable to conquer it on their own, can come seeking rest and peace and comfort.

And yes - I will be going back.

Travels in Europe

It has been far too long since I posted here. I have been meaning to post my journal from the Slovakia trip. Here it is! I hope it captures for you some of the emotional investment that was made in our two weeks abroad. I love these students, these leaders and this ministry. These entries were usually quick jottings at the end of extremely busy days (for a longer recap of the last day there, check my previous post). A few quick "glossary" terms:

Zilina: the city where we held our basic training before breaking off into individual cities for camp
TC Kompas: the training center through which all Josiah Venture's camps are organized
Presov: the city where our students are from, and where we spent the last couple of days of our visit
KECY: conversational English camps; this is the reason we go - to lend an American presence at these camps
Fusion: a new project from Josiah Venture; these camps are similar to KECY camps, but focus on music instead of English lessons
E-night: "Environment night"; these are essentially themed parties or group activities, done in the evening after our long day of lessons, sports and an evening message.
halusky: one of the "national dishes" of Slovakia. Just Google it; it's delicious.

For your enjoyment...Slovakia 2012:

Wednesday, June 27 – The first day. Always I find myself excited, but this morning I woke up with a strange feeling. Not foreboding, or anxiety, more of a realization of the current state of things. That when I next put my head to a pillow, it will be in a hostel in Prague, rather than the comfort of my own home.

Breakfast with the parents. Last-minute errands. Catching a few final sets of Wimbledon, before I essentially break off communication with the outside world. Once again, I learn the painful lesson of my reliance on technology, my need for connectedness, and how much I resist a similar reliance and connectedness with my Creator.

We meet at the church, and the pleasant chaotic dance ensues. Hugs goodbye, frantic final packing, instructions and advice shouted one more time for emphasis. Then piling into vans for the drive to the airport.

Not much else to tell today, just some final bonding opportunities, laughter and people-watching in the international terminal. And now, almost like a musical chord hanging across the day, I hear the resolution of my feelings from my waking moments: a complete peace, a full awareness and embracing of the journey at hand, a trust and joy that God has ordained the number for this journey, has tasked and gifted us accordingly, and has begun to prepare and stir the hearts of students in Slovakia. May we find boldness and confidence in the coming days, that we may obey the Great Commission and bring honor to His name. – DH

Thursday, June 28 – Today I woke up on a plane over the Atlantic. This was to be our primary travel day: a brief layover at Heathrow, a connection to Prague, and an afternoon to relax before a full day of seeing Prague on Friday. This plan was soon to dissolve, and in one of those ways that make it clear that God bestows His blessings in His own time, in His own way.

Our problems began as we approached London. We noticed the plane beginning to bank repeatedly, in the tell-tale sign of a holding pattern. We landed twenty minutes late or so, but hadn’t counted on Heathrow’s complex, spacious and – most importantly – time-consuming methods of connecting passengers. Long story short – we missed our flight to Prague! In those moments, it was difficult to see the “good” in this situation. All of us were thinking about luggage, how long we might be in the airport, and how many separate flights it would take to get us to our destination.

After about an hour at customer service, the news was a little better: Austin and Bryan would go ahead to Prague, while the rest of us would catch a flight early Friday morning. So, all of a sudden, we had a bonus on our trip: an afternoon in London! Anyone who knows me should be aware that I’ve always wanted to visit England. And while we’d lose some time in Prague, the trade-off was well worth it.

We visited Parliament, Westminster Abbey and Trafalgar Square. The busses, the accents, the streets and architecture – put me in this city anytime. London was amazing! Add it to the list of places I’d live in a heartbeat. Tomorrow: Prague, and a reunion with Bryan and Austin. – DH

Friday, June 29 – Today we took an early flight to Prague, then headed straight to our hostel to check in. Prague is a great city, beautiful and ancient. First of all, the town square and the castle in Prague are amazing. They say that Prague avoided much of the devastation of World War II, and also has never experienced a major fire. In short, all its old buildings remain intact. I literally gasped on a couple of occasions. The Church of St. Vitus must be seen to be truly appreciated. The rest of the day was spent wandering the city. – DH

Saturday, June 30 – What a day! God is so faithful. We had a quick breakfast in Prague, then made our way (via tram and subway) to the train station. We even had 11 whole minutes to spare! The train ride was mostly uneventful (though hot). I did get a chance to talk with Brad about a few specific things that we felt could be changed for future trips. Brad, Birch, Jeremy and I had a nice prayer session right in our seats, and immediately felt better about things. I like to encourage by nature, so I was ready to get back to that.

After we reached Zilina, we had a nice dinner and caught up with old friends (Mike, Jany, Eva, plus the interns). After dinner, a brief training session and, of course, a trip out for zmrzlina (ice cream)! The highlight of the night was meeting Duraj coming back from the train station. Love that kid!

There was a team of Norwegians also at TC Kompas tonight, helping with Fusion, so we headed to a local hotel. Talk about weird! The front desk guy was suspicious, the rooms were threadbare, and to top it off, the circus was in town and camped next door. Elephants and giraffes in Slovakia!

Best thing, though, was getting to chat with Bryan. We stayed up until 2am, just like old times. We discussed our plans, weaknesses, and tons of other things. We even prayed for each other. I felt the best I’ve felt since Day 1. Bryan and I needed a reconnect. Tomorrow: We get to see Anka and the whole Presov team.  – DH

Sunday, July 1 – Ugh! A day of sweat. First, our training sessions at Kompas. These were almost identical to last year. With a warm room thrown in, it was nearly impossible to stay awake. I nodded a couple of times. After lunch, it was another brisk walk to the train station – where we again got to wait about 45 minutes for our train! Finally we boarded, and the heat was on – again.

So the thing about today was that we hiked to the station – then cooled off. Changed trains for another train ride – then cooled off. And took a bus for another hour. The sweat was caked on me, and I’m sure I looked (and smelled!) as bad as I felt. Still, nothing compares to the moment of reunion.

David and Milos were two of the first to reach us at the car. They hugged me like I was the driest, freshest-smelling thing there was. So great to be with people who truly love who you are. After I thought I’d greeted everyone, I heard screams from the top of the stairs. I turn to see my little sisters, Andrea and Monika, barreling towards me. They both hugged me so tight at once. Katie said it was the sweetest thing she’d ever seen (but she might say that a lot).

After a quick dinner, we had a devotional and some great worship time, and lots of prayer. We had a lot of prep left before the kids arrived, but the excitement and expectations were high. Time for a shower! – DH

Monday, July 2 – I feel like I’ll combine a lot into these next few days, or at least keep each entry much shorter. Not because there was less going on, but frankly, because I haven’t had free time to touch a pen since our students arrived. There are a lot of them (nearly 70!) and they’re amazing.

Today we did an intro circle video with everyone, and I was the cameraman. I’m no Nathan, but it seemed to go well. Then I was asked to help assess the English level for each student, along with Bryan, Tracy and Jeremy. At the time, I was so nervous about doing this well (although since I’m writing this after the fact, I can tell you that we actually got it pretty accurate). – DH

Tuesday, July 3 – Our first full day with students. English went really well, even though my kids spoke a LOT of Slovak (I’ve got the beginners again). One of my “students” is 23 and coaches volleyball; another is the tiniest 13-year-old girl I’ve ever seen. Could be interesting.

Tonight we celebrated 10 years of KECY. A birthday party was the E-night theme. Fun, lots of dancing, and I’m soaked through again. It’s going to be a gross week! P.S. Mike brought Ryan over from Kosice to give us an extra English teacher. – DH

Wednesday, July 4 – With Ryan in camp, Katie is rolling. Hannah is right in her element, and the rest of the team are veterans, so it’s all good. Plus Mike and Chris are here, so everything just feels like it’s running smoothly. 

Tonight was American Night, which meant doing my play. Everyone did SO great. I was so proud that people embraced it, made the parts their own, and really seemed to like it. I’m so arrogant about stuff like that, but I have to be honest: between the play and the English lessons (with Tracy), I really feel I contributed a lot this year in the planning. – DH

Thursday, July 5 – ALL-DAY HIKE!! I’ve been excited but nervous about this for two years, mostly because I’m so out of shape. And parts of it were definitely tough. But there were stations and activities throughout the hike, and it wasn’t so bad. Tiring, but healthy. And even better: my team clicked! Oh, it was like magic. Today, they all started trusting each other and me. Over the course of the day, I spoke one-on-one with Lutia, Maja, Miro, Alzbeta, Vika, Ivka and David. David had NO English background, so it’s really hard with him. But man – everyone wants to talk now! What a pleasant breakthrough day. Other notes: Natalka arrived from Japan (love her!). And E-night was blah (Roman theme). – DH

Friday, July 6 – Not a lot to report from English and sports today, other than my group being vibrant and connected. We are the “Smurfs” (from our assigned team color of blue), and we do an amazing team chant which includes the Smurfs’ song! We have also created an invisible pet dog named Sarik and an invisible “water pig” named Pixy. (No, no one knows what a “water pig” is: translation error!)

Tonight, Maruska shared the gospel. We had the “Labyrinth” set up for students to walk through and think about things, then come in to pray with us. I was again fortunate to be included in the prayer room (though many would end up praying outside with Hannah and others). I was fortunate to pray with two students: Thomas and Jozef. Thomas had a lot to say. Jozef just had questions, lots of them, and no Bible to look for the answers. (quick note: he had one before we left!) All in all, a tremendous night! – DH

Saturday, July 7 – Last day of English. We hit it hard, lots of vocab and talking about it. I really feel like I’ve never had a small group like this one. I’m going to miss them like crazy. Miro and Maja, who were the two most on my heart, both went into the prayer room last night, as did Lutia. This was also my night to give testimony, along with Bryan’s talk. I think I did okay, although it’s weird when you don’t have a “dynamic” testimony. Afterward it was “boat night” – fruity drinks and dancing. I ended up lying in a circle with Ivka, Addy, Mims, Dominika, and Zuzka, singing until almost 2am. It was peaceful, touching, and beautiful. Unforgettable last night of camp.  – DH

Sunday, July 8 – Last day in camp. One morning “big group” meeting, then it was picture time and packing. But this year, we actually took the busses back to town with the students. And knowing that we’d see most of them at the farewell party made it much easier.

Tracy and I stayed with Duraj and Vika, who live with their mother and grandparents. What a nice family! They fed us wonderfully (brinze halusky!) and toasted us with champagne. Then we took a little walk through their village (Zdenov). Jany Simocko and Daniel Harcar are both from there as well. We watched storm clouds roll in across the huge green hills and we had to cut our walk short. Not a moment too soon. As soon as we got back home, the heavens opened. Wind, rain, lightning – this was one of the more intense storms I’d ever seen. As we headed into town, there were dozens of downed trees, and the power was out. Vika told us this kind of weather is extremely rare here.

We spent a fun evening with several of the students at McDonald’s (I could actually eat this year!), just relaxing and talking. We got back to the village at a decent hour, then drank Coke by candlelight and stayed up a while longer, talking and laughing. An early bedtime was a welcome change, and needed for the busy and painful day ahead. – DH 

Broken Words and Broken Hearts

On Tuesday, I returned from my second mission trip to Slovakia. While my trip last year was amazing and eye-opening in its own way, this year's trip was simply incredible. I am having trouble completely processing it. I'm not sure I will ever completely process it. This writing is merely a first attempt, a leap off a cliff with an uncertain landing. I'll be putting my journal from the trip into electronic form and posting it somewhere here,  but for now, I wanted to give more of an overview of what God did and continues to do through our time in eastern Europe.

First of all, the synergy between the Slovak leaders and our American team was palpable this year. In our first sessions together in Zilina, we had some worship time together that was simply unforgettable. The burden of God's call on my life was never felt so strongly, and I didn't find out until later how many others in our group were in tears, just as I was. Surely there is no worship so true as when your context fades around you, and you are simply before the throne. The stage had been set, and we were ready for a week of making God's great name known.

Once we arrived at the camp, I was greeted by all the leaders I had worked with last year. It was so encouraging, and put me in a great frame of mind for the students to arrive. That evening and the next morning, we made final preparations for the students to arrive. I'll say it here to save saying it later: the level of preparedness from both teams was off the charts this year. I know many people will talk about not boxing in the Holy Spirit and being flexible, but there is a lot to be said for having the little things all taken care of. I like to think of it this way: we're clearing off the dance floor so the Spirit can move freely!

The next day, the students arrived. I hardly have words for our students this year. We had nearly 70 kids, and it was a much younger group than last time around. But from the beginning, they seemed ready to open up to us. By the first night, one student had already shared with me about his tortured relationship with his father. My English group connected within a couple of days, and began having meals together and sitting together at any group events. I’ve grown close with individual kids at camps plenty of times, but I don’t think I have ever had a small group feel like a family this way. Perhaps most moving was David, a 23-year-old in my group (and an exception to the youthfulness of most of the camp) who had never taken an English class in his life. It turns out he was already a believer, and he helped to galvanize our group with his energy and his enthusiasm for both our lessons and our team activities. It caught me unaware and melted my heart when, on the last day of camp, he told me, with some effort, “God bless you.”

That is perhaps the best way to segue to the end of the camp. The emotions I’m working through this year are even stronger than last summer. Knowing how many of these kids have made a decision to follow Christ, or to rededicate themselves to him, it’s extremely difficult to then leave them behind. While the Slovak leaders in Presov are an amazing group, many of these students bond in a special way with the American team, and for me, I could hardly fault them for feeling a sense of abandonment. All we can do is continue to point them back to Christ, encourage them to join small groups in the city, and lift them up and stay in contact via Facebook. Above all, I am painfully aware of the need for believers to have a strong support structure.

Still, my connection with Slovakia has grown infinitely stronger. The last night, we had to wait until after 2am for our bus to arrive. Many of the students stayed with us for as long as they could, and it seemed like every 15 minutes, one of my kids had to head home. Each farewell was like tearing open the same wound, with no time to heal in between. Julo…Janka…David…Kamila…part of me wanted it to just end, while deep down, I knew I wanted to spend every waking moment with as many of these kids and leaders as possible. When our bus finally came, the final separation was like nothing I’ve ever had to deal with. Monika…Milos…Andrea…Marianna…I found it almost impossible to pull away. In that moment, nothing felt as much like home as that little café in Slovakia. Marianna’s pleas for me not to cry were most certainly futile; on the bus, the floodgates opened as if they could never be closed again. Only sleep brought any peace, and I am only now beginning to revisit these feelings, to embrace them.

For what else can I do? While God showed me many things this week and challenged me in exciting new ways, perhaps the most visible lesson was learned in those last few moments, tearfully drawing my dear friends – nay, family – to my chest, next to a quiet street in the stillness of a Slovak night. That our emotions, while they should not rule us, are a gift from God, and something to experience as part of our very humanity. And that by their very nature, they are fleeting and not to be missed:

“…weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning.” – Psalms 30:5

So while I will never be able to escape my attempts to be rational in my approach to my faith, I am learning to tap into the pure joy of living in Him. As Dominika told us at the farewell party, God paints us a new sunset every evening. Surely a God who knows even when a sparrow falls in the field cares infinitely for His children. May the joy of trusting and resting in Him show through in my actions and my words, in life and on this page.

My love and God’s blessings to you all, until our next meeting.

The Eternal Moment

Just the other day, I had what I call an "eternity moment." This isn't as deep or symbolic as it might sound. It's simply what happens to me when I stop to consider, more than just as a passing thought, what the concept of eternity really means. As a teenager, I used to lie awake at night contemplating how anything could have no end. Even something as unimaginably huge as the universe has an edge, an end point, a boundary. The more I struggled to envision what eternity must look like, the more I felt the vastness of it pressing down on me, right into my bedroom, a kind of mental paralysis setting in as I realized I was never quite going to get it. Lots of late nights staring at the ceiling. But we'll get back to that

I recently finished the book Radical by David Platt. I'd heard the book recommended repeatedly by friends and members of my church, and I can say that they were all justified. It is a truly impactful and refreshing approach to the modern church and its proper role in the world. But while that is certainly a worthy topic for a book, I'd take a different approach than some of my friends: I would not recommend it to just anyone. This is a book for someone who is looking for the people of Christ to represent something more, something greater, something  that looks more like...well, Christ. There are a lot of believers out there who frankly aren't ready for that message yet. And there are plenty of non-Christians who would probably receive it more readily than their church-going counterparts, as it paints the picture of a church that doesn't abuse them, lie to them, judge them or embody hypocrisy in their community. In short, it's a challenging message, a wake-up call to what the Bible actually calls his church to do. So be careful about sharing this book with just anyone, or at least be very upfront with them about what they're about to read. Perhaps a better word than careful would be intentional; have a purpose behind your recommendation.

So let's get back to my original story, and tie these two tales together. The teenage me would not have been a good candidate to read Radical. Because, as you could probably tell from my description earlier, for teenage me, the idea of eternity inspired fear. I am a truly logical person (though my friends might dispute this!), and something too big for me to wrap my mind around was something that deserved skepticism and caution. As the years have gone by, my faith has grown, and while I still can't get my brain to process the eternal, it now fills me rather with hope than doubt. But I also no longer doubt that eternity is a very real thing, not just a theory or an abstract concept. And Radical reminded me that a church that believes in eternity must be in the business of the eternal.

In just over a week, I am fortunate enough to have the opportunity to return to Slovakia to teach English to high school students there, and to share with them the love of Jesus. It is this type of work that the church is called to do, and I am honored to be a part of it. I am praying confidently that this trip will have an impact that carries into eternity. For you the reader, I pray that you might begin to consider similar opportunities for yourselves.

For those of you who haven't heard my story from last summer, or have heard it but never read my recounting of it, you can read about it here.  I intend to journal and notate much more frequently this time around, and should have much to share in a few weeks when I return.

Until then, be blessed!

David

Of Pedestals and Heavy Hearts

Man, what a crazy weekend. On Friday night, I was asking friends to pray for me to have an outlet to begin writing and blogging again. By Sunday afternoon, I had enough topics to last a year. I'll be treading lightly with today's post, but felt like I needed to get my "voice" back. Consider this a throat-clearing.

I am a sports fan. I am a sports fan to my own detriment. I watch, listen to and keep up with more sports than I should. I'll wake up early on Saturday morning to watch an English soccer match, then stay up late that night to watch a west-coast baseball game - even if I'm not rooting for either team! And boy, do I admire athletes. Fred Lynn (not sure why). Will Clark. Jerry Rice. Barry Sanders. Greg Maddux. Reggie Miller. And as you root for athletes, you begin to ascribe to them a certain infallibility. Heroic exploits on the field translate to heroic status off the field as well.

But the problem is that none of this is true. The ability to hit a baseball or run really fast has no bearing on one's ability to live a good life. And sooner or later, these individuals all failed to live up to the standards I had set for them in my mind. By the time I reached high school, I had already developed a healthy skepticism about professional athletes. I was essentially ready for them to let me down.

I tell you all of that to tell you this: a lifetime spent being cured of hero worship was good practice for the Sunday I just experienced. It was then that I learned that a man whose teachings I respect, and who served as a spiritual leader to many, had fallen into one of these same pitfalls. And while the news was unexpected, sudden and disheartening, I felt my old sports hero defenses kicking in: don't put people on a pedestal, you'll just get burned. But having to deal with it on a personal level like this, I was struck by something else:

He is just another me.

A buddy put it so beautifully to me yesterday afternoon: "In a way, we are all falling." We are all sinners. Just like the athletes, the businessmen, the teachers and the ministers we see every day. But more pointedly, just like our families, our friends...and ourselves.We are all burdened with the human condition of sinfulness. And while it is proper and biblical that we should hold our spiritual leaders to a higher standard (1 Timothy 3:1-7), it is important also to use this time to reflect on our own shortcomings. While we may never have our failings visible on great stages to be seen by all, our stumbles can easily rob us of all we hold dear - our relationships, our finances, our health. Now more than ever, it is crucial for us to heed the Bible's instruction not to attempt to resist sin, but to flee from it (2 Timothy 2:22, 1 Corinthians 6:18).

The coming days I know will be difficult. Many dear friends of mine are hurting, angry and questioning. There is much work to be done. Yet we praise God even in these circumstances, trusting that:

"6 In all this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials. 7 These have come so that the proven genuineness of your faith—of greater worth than gold, which perishes even though refined by fire —may result in praise, glory and honor when Jesus Christ is revealed." (1 Peter 1:6-7)

My hope is that this space can be used as a place of encouragement in the coming days and months. May the topics I choose and the words I write bring honor to Him who is alone worthy of honor. I love you all.

In His hands,
David

Thankfulness

I was going to write about Matthew 16 this week, but life can really get in the way sometimes. In this case, it did so in a wonderful way. Some of my new friends from Slovakia came to town for a youth leadership conference, and I've had the chance to spend more time with them than I could have hoped. This group represents Josiah Venture, and last night they spoke to a group of college students about the work that they're doing in eastern Europe. I was reminded again of the breadth of God's love, that He is as real in the mountains of Europe as he is in the foothills of North America. Our prayer is for Him to be relevant in those places as well.

The team spoke briefly last night about the support they receive from churches here in the States, and read from Colossians 1:3-6, where Paul talks about being thankful for those walking in the faith with him:

We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you..."

 What an appropriate passage just a week before Thanksgiving. Mike Sullivan, one of the leaders and a missionary who has lived in Slovakia for nine years, said that many of the students they work with think all Americans are "cool", and that our presence on mission trips is a huge door to presenting the gospel. Then he encouraged us not to feel guilty or trivialized by this fact, but to consider ourselves blessed to be American. That beyond the material comforts that Americans enjoy more than other nations around the world, we should consider it a blessing if our "American-ness" in any way allows us the opportunity to advance the Kingdom. In a world where being American is often grounds for being criticized (and often with just cause), this concept brings a smile to my face.

As Thanksgiving and the Christmas season rapidly approaches, I want to take the time to tell all of you how thankful I am for you. For long-time friends and new ones alike...thank you for your hospitality, support, laughter and inclusion. For my family...thank you for your love and the example that you set for me. For my Christian brothers and sisters...thank you for your courage, humility and steadiness, and for always challenging me in new and exciting ways. For my friends who believe something different, or maybe aren't even sure...thank you for your tolerance and your openness. I pray that these writings will spark continued conversation and discussion about this faith that drives my life.

I'll likely not be writing next week, although I'll try to drop in a holiday greeting or something. Please be safe, and have a happy and blessed Thanksgiving!

A Calling Is In Order

So I was reading through Matthew 9 a couple of weeks ago, and there is a ton of stuff in there. There are five specific healing stories (including one instance of raising someone from the dead!), a lesson on fasting, and a declaration from Jesus in verse 6 that He has the authority on earth to forgive sins. A huge statement, and one that serves to show that Jesus' work is not one of a snake oil salesman but of the divine. I'm reminded of Gandalf's quote in The Lord of the Rings: "Do not take me for some conjurer of cheap tricks." What is Jesus saying here? "I'm the real deal." Again...a pretty dense chapter.

Lots of people like to say Jesus was "a good teacher." Yet his teachings frequently defy a logical or even rational explanation. Others say he was a healer. While this is certainly true, it's vital to recognize how often Jesus said things like "your faith has made you well." Jesus tied the physical maladies of Judea directly to a corresponding spiritual ailment, a condition that was curable not by any earthly remedy but by a transformation of the spirit, even more dynamic and astounding than the very visible healings taking place wherever Jesus went. Nowhere is this clearer than in verses 9-13 and the closing verses 35-38.

In verse 9, Jesus meets a man named Matthew (sound familiar?) who happens to be a tax collector. Most of you have heard it plenty of times before, but tax collectors in those times were pretty much the most despised people around. They cheated people, had no loyalty and were generally just not to be respected or trusted. But Jesus, as He often did, turns the social order on its head by telling Matthew to follow Him. Which Matthew does. There's not a ton of detail to this story, but I like to think that Matthew followed because he was stunned to see a popular local figure - and a religious one at that - taking the time to interact with him. Nice lesson for churches of today that love to isolate themselves from the community around them. (Calling #1)

Jesus ends up going to Matthew's house for dinner, and Matthew invites all his tax collector friends (because again, who else would hang out with tax collectors except other tax collectors?) and some other characters who are apparently of a less than savory nature. And the religious leaders can't comprehend this. Why would this man who claims to be God be wasting time with the dregs of society? And Jesus answers with one of my favorite lines in Scripture:

It is not the healthy who need a doctor, but the sick. (Matt. 9:12)

Jesus knows He doesn't have a long time on the earth. He doesn't need to spend time on those who have their lives together. It's those people who have a lack, a void, a sickness in their lives who need Him. And of course, as verse 13 drives home, He is not talking about physical ailments but the spiritually dying. But the broader point that the modern church can't afford to miss is this:

There are a lot of sick people out there.

At the end of this chapter, we see that Jesus is traveling through "all the towns and villages", and that He is healing "every disease and sickness." And He issues a challenge to His followers: there aren't enough workers to reach all of these people who are hurting and need Him. Jesus, whose vision is always in the present and the future simultaneously, is stating the purpose of the church for years to come. (Calling #2)

So a calling of one kind or the other is in order: For the non-believer, Jesus is calling you to "dine with Him." Recognize Him for who He is. Ask questions, interact, and begin to understand. For the believer, Jesus is calling us to the "harvest." Go out among our family, friends, communities and nations, and let them know that there is someone who longs to heal their brokenness, their hurts, and their bitterness. A calling for each of us - an encouraging thought.

God bless, and have a great weekend!

Fire and smoke

It'll be a shorter post this week, for no particular reason. I think the point is a bit easier to make, but a cool visual I hadn't really considered before. The passage that led me to write this week's piece is Exodus 13:17-22. In it, the Israelites are fleeing their enslavement in Egypt, and God is leading them through the wilderness. Let's take a quick look at verse 17 before we go further:

When Pharaoh finally let the people go, God did not lead them along the main road that runs through Philistine territory, even though that was the shortest route to the Promised Land... (Ex. 13:17, NLT)

Now there's almost a whole sermon in that one sentence. God doesn't always lead us by the shortest, most direct, or to us, most logical paths. And when we choose to follow God, we have to understand that this is the case, and not immediately get discouraged or disillusioned when He doesn't seem to be going where we want to go. But like I said...that's a whole separate sermon. The point is that God is leading His people in this passage - and the way He did it must have been visually stunning:

The Lord went ahead of them. He guided them during the day with a pillar of cloud, and he provided light at night with a pillar of fire. This allowed them to travel by day or by night. (Ex. 13:21, NLT)

Many of you (if not most or all of you) already know this story. You may be thinking to yourself that this is repetitive and there's no new lesson here. And you might be right. But what if the difference between God's guidance by night and by day is deeper than just a visual one (it's easier to see fire at night and smoke during the day)? I like the idea that while God never changes, His help comes to us in different ways depending on our situation.

A fire at a campsite provides light and keeps away predators; similarly, God steers us through the "night" periods of our lives with clear light and direction. He is a refuge for those wandering and stumbling. In the "daylight" of our lives, however, God may not seem so necessary. Things are going well, or seem more hopeful, and the tendency is to look to our own devices and ignore God's direction. Yet how does smoke affect us? Not seeing smoke from a distance, but when you encounter smoke up close? For me, it is an irritant. I don't mean that to sound irreverent, but I find the "smoke" representation of God to be a perfect one. When things seem to be going well for me, I need that occasional wisp of smoke to hit my eyes, my throat, my lungs, making me at once aware of God's presence, my watering eyes and coughing symbolizing my need to be aware and receptive to Him even when I can steer myself through the light of day.

The next couple of weeks, I'll be focusing on the book of Matthew. Thanks, and have a great week!

The Prayer Liar

A couple of weeks ago, I talked about praying specifically and confidently. Today I want to talk about a different aspect of prayer. Well...perhaps not so much prayer as the nature of the believer and our "prayer promises." This did not come from any specific Scripture, studies or lessons, although I will reference some verses below. Rather, I felt compelled to address what I observe as an unhealthy and common habit among the church, as well as something with which I've frequently struggled - the promise to "pray for you."

I'm obviously not advocating that we not pray for each other; but look at the example Paul and the other writers of the epistles set when they describe their prayers:

In all my prayers for all of you, I always pray with joy... (Philippians 1:4)

We always thank God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, when we pray for you... (Colossians 1:3)

 ...ever since I heard about your faith in the Lord Jesus and your love for all God's people, I have not stopped giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers. (Ephesians 1:15-16)

 That is some intense intercessory prayer, folks! Every verse resonates with the concept of this being a continuous act. "Always." "Have not stopped." "Remembering you." And here's where I'm afraid we as believers get trapped by our good intentions. See, in my experience, "I'll be praying for you" is the church equivalent of "How ya doing?" We may say it, but we're not interested in the response or the follow-up. Praying for someone essentially becomes a box to be checked on the Good Person To-Do List, along with attending church, or nodding politely at your neighbor.

The thing to remember here is that true prayer for others is a commitment. Even if what that person needs prayer for in the moment is just a short-term thing (like a doctor's appointment or an upcoming exam in school), your prayer should be applied not just to their current condition but their lifelong condition. This is someone who is walking the same faith walk as you are; we should wrap our prayers for someone's situation into their long-term growth in Christ! And if we think of our prayers for others this way, it becomes very difficult to ever really stop praying for them - and I think that's the point.

Now this raises an interesting dilemma for me. The power of prayer is well-documented both biblically and anecdotally. But the Bible also talks about the power of prayers made in agreement with one another. This may sound prideful or even narcissistic, but is it possible that if I neglect to pray for something or someone  that I've committed to that I might negatively impact the outcome? If prayer is powerful, is the absence of prayer necessarily powerless? I have to say - when I think of it this way, it really makes me examine things I may have been neglecting in my prayer life.

A quick side note about this: I'm not really on board with the recent mania among Christians to belittle themselves and/or the church over every little thing. Sure, we're all going to make mistakes, and the church has made plenty over the years, but the reality is we have a peace and victory that should shine through in our lives. My thoughts on this topic are better saved for a full essay, but just know that I think believers don't always give themselves enough credit, and today's post isn't about bashing or some foundational flaw in Christendom. Which leads me my last point...

Prayer for others should be joyful! Look at the quote from Philippians above, then think about what members of the early church were going through. Even in the darkest of times, our prayer for others should be filled with the excitement and hopefulness of our faith in Jesus. And if you think of the idea of prayer for others as a long-term goal, how could it be anything less than joyful? The happy ending has already been written; that fact should weave itself into every prayer we lift to Him.

I would encourage all of you to try this in your prayers over the next couple of weeks. Pray for fellow believers, even if you don't know of anything they're currently "dealing with." And pray for them daily. And like me, try to imagine what our church will look like when everyone who says "I'm praying for you" really means it.