"A Better Class of Plumber"--July 11, 2019

"A Better Class of Plumber"--July 11, 2019

"Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility regard others as better than yourselves. Let each of you look not to your own interests, but to the interests of others. Let the same mind be in you that was in Christ Jesus." [Philippians 2:3-5]

For the followers of Jesus, it matters how we do things as much (or more) as what we do.  It can be easy to get obsessed with trying to impress folks by being known as someone who "gets things done," but because we are called to reflect Christ into the world, Jesus himself is concerned about the way we do things, not just having a reputation for "doing" things.  After all, some things are worth doing, and some aren't... and sometimes it really depends on how we go about it.

A case in point, if you are willing.  I've been seeing floating around this meme on the internet that goes something like this:  "If my pipes are backing up and my drains are overflowing with sewage, I don't care if my plumber is a nice guy, or uses polite words, or even has a noble virtuous character--I just want the plumber who can get the sewage out of my basement and get the job done!"  And from there, the argument goes on to say that, by analogy, the character of the people around us--especially people we choose for important jobs or roles in our society--doesn't matter, so long as they have a reputation for "getting the job done."  If the plumber can get the drains moving again, it doesn't matter if he's rude, immature, or cheating on his wife--it only matters if he can "get the job done."

And as tempting as that oversimplification is, it just doesn't hold up if you give it more than a second's thought.  I mean, after all, it absolutely does matter how the plumber "gets the job done."  For one, the plumber who just installs an extra sump pump and has it routed out the basement windows out onto my lawn can claim he has "gotten the job done" quickly, but he's really only relocated my problem.  And even though my basement might be slowly able to dry out, there is now going to be the problem of sewage spewing onto my lawn and additionally now out onto the neighbor's yard and into the street.  That sort of plumber can claim he has "solved" my basement problem, but it comes at the cost of harm to my yard and my neighbor's yard--which isn't really a fix.

For that matter, a plumber who says, "We can make the storm sewer more able to handle your property's excess rainwater if we just close off the neighbor's access to the storm sewer--that will mean that only your house's runoff will go into the storm sewer, so you won't have any back-ups!" clearly hasn't solved the problem the right way either.  Once again, it would mean just shifting a problem from your house at the expense of your neighbor's--which is no solution at all, and ultimately makes things worse if you ever want to be able to get along with your neighbor again.

And even when it comes to things like temperament and personality, I'd even argue that if my plumber can't be trusted to be courteous to employees or customers, or professional in his attitude toward other people, there's no reason I should trust him to be professional in his work.  For the anonymous internet meme-makers who say, "It doesn't matter if my plumber has been faithful to his wife as long as he knows how to fix a leaky elbow joint," I'm left wondering why I would trust someone to be honest with me in the labor he charges me for if I also knew he wasn't trustworthy in the closest relationships of his life.

All of that is to say that as temptingly simple as it sounds to say, "It doesn't matter how a person does things, as long as they get things done," that mindset turns out to be embarrassingly myopic and shortsighted, as well as an open invitation to get taken advantage of, too.  And even more to the point for us as followers of Jesus, that "just get stuff done" mindset isn't compatible with the way of Christ.  For the writers of the New Testament, as well as for Jesus himself, it matters immensely how we do things, and not merely that we claim we "get things done."

And in particular, the "how" has to include the way we regard others.  There's always a selfish way to solve a problem--probably more than one, honestly.  But the followers of Jesus are not permitted to ignore the needs and well-being of others, both fellow Christians and folks who are not Christians as well, when we consider how to deal with a situation.  The apostle Paul puts it directly as he wrote to friends of his in the city of Philippi: having the "same mind that was in Christ Jesus" meant (and still means) putting the needs of others before our own.  It means that we are steered away from only asking "What's good for me?" and led toward asking, "What is good for all of us in this situation?"  It means that I can no longer settle for simply "getting things done" in a way that is good for me, but comes at the expense of the neighbor.  It means that we can't tell the plumber to route the sewage onto the neighbor's yard as long as it keeps my house clean and dry, and it means I don't only have a responsibility for the people who live under my roof, but also the neighbors down the block, in the next town over, or across an ocean (ask Jesus about who "counts" as a neighbor).

This isn't extra-credit level Christianity by the way.  This isn't some standard reserved for pastors, monks, and saints, while the rest of us live in the "real world" where we just have to push through and "get stuff done."  This is ground-floor, entry-level discipleship.  Being a Christian means seeking to live in a way that reflects Christ for the world--it's right there in the name. That means it always matters how we do things, and not merely that we claim to "get stuff done."  And because Jesus would not even think in terms of a "Me and My Group First" mindset, we don't get to, either.  And if the plumber you've hired is only interested in getting sewage out of your house by routing it into the neighbor's house, well, you need a better class of plumber.

At the end of the day, it's not just about how much, or how many items, we have checked off the to-do list in the name of "getting things done." It's about how we do them, and whether we have acted, spoken, and made decisions in ways that reflect Christ.  And, lest we sneakily try and baptize our own selfishness with the name of Jesus, the Scriptures keep us honest by emphasizing just what it looks like to "have the mind of Christ," when they call us to put the needs of others before just "what's good for me."  That's what it looks like to reflect Christ, and that's our calling today.

Today, maybe we can set aside the idol of "getting stuff done" in order to be reflections of Christ in the way we do all things.

Lord Jesus, let us live and think and act with your mind, so that we never settle for a short-sighted vision of "what's good for me only."

"An Apostle with Crayons"--Poem+Picture--July 10, 2019

"An Apostle with Crayons"
See Christ Here Poem+Picture--July 10, 2019

In the bottom of a cardboard box
beneath papers and clutter,
there was waiting for me
a message from my daughter,
an epistle of grace just when I needed it.
Thanks be to the One 
Who knew when I felt buried
and sent an apostle with crayons
to bring me the good news:
I am beloved.

#seeChristhere

"Beloved"--July 10, 2019

"Beloved"--July 10, 2019

"Beloved, let us love one another, because love is from God; everyone who loves is born of God and knows God. Whoever does not love does not know God, for God is love." [1 John 4:7-8]
"Beloved" has come to be one of my favorite words, I must confess. Especially the way John uses it in a place like this.  When John calls someone "beloved," it carries a lot of weight in a single word.

Think about what it means for anybody to address you as beloved. It's a way of saying that of all the other words you might use to get someone's attention or to describe a person, the most important quality to call attention to is that he or she is loved. And that means that the most important quality you are calling attention to is not necessarily something inside the one who is loved, but is a matter of what the love-r thinks. Being beloved is different than being smart, or athletic, or pious. All those other words are about qualities I have inside myself, whether by genetics or personality or willpower and commitment. And in that sense they are value judgments about how intelligent, strong, or religious I am... and it is up to me to keep those up or else I could lose them.

But being beloved is entirely dependent on someone else loving me. Being beloved defines me in terms of how someone else chooses to see me--that for whatever other unlovely things there are inside me, someone else sees me and is determined to love me nonetheless. In other words, it is at least in some sense a rather passive thing to be "beloved;" it does not require any activity on my part to make it happen, but comes from the ongoing commitment of someone else to go on loving me. I just sit there and am beloved--I haven't done a thing to earn it or make it happen, technically speaking.

Now, when John calls us "beloved," notice that what flows from that status is that we are to love one another.  But this is a time when it's critically important to get the horse before the cart.  We are called--commanded, really--to love others only after we have already been identified as beloved ourselves.  Someone is loving us before we can get up the courage to love someone else. Before John even gets to the command that we should love one another, he already starts out calling us "beloved." So... who is it that loves us before we even love each other? John's point here is that we are beloved because no less and none other than God has determined to love us--even before we get to the question of how well we in the Christian community love each other.

This takes care of all those scary, risky, possibilities that come with being beloved, because we are promised that God's love doesn't flake out on us. Even if I might have anxiety that a friend might stop loving me after a falling out, or that one day grown children will move away and make love harder because of distance, or that people who love me will die, we are promised that the living God loves us with a deathless, ever-present, persistent love. I do run a certain risk letting myself be defined as "beloved" by any human person, because human love has its limits before it runs out of steam, and because human love is always tainted by our own self-interest and neediness. But I don't have to have that fear when I know I am beloved of God. 

We are taught to stake our lives on the sure promise that God has loved us with an everlasting love, and that love defines us. We are, before anything else gets said about us, and before we do anything else on our own, beloved--passive recipients of God's faithful goodness. We just sit there and are beloved, and that says more about who I am and who you are than any of the other traits or details of our history. Before I am foolish or smart, athletic or clumsy, pious or lazy, rich or poor, or any other adjective, I am--we are--beloved, defined by what God says about us deeper than anything else.

And because of that, we can get to everything else that follows.  We love because we are first beloved... and because we reflect for the world the God who has loved us already.  That love is always meant to be more than just emotions, more than just endorphins in the brain or butterflies in the stomach (those aren't love anyhow--that's just chemistry and infatuation).  But we are called to love in actions and words beyond just feelings, because God has loved us in Christ with actions that go beyond flighty emotions.

This is a big deal to pay attention to: of all the ways we could reflect the character of Christ, John singles out love.  Just like Jesus says to his disciples in the upper room, the world will know we are Jesus' people by the love we practice.  Not our rituals.  Not our cross necklaces or "Prayer changes things" bumper stickers.  Not our good citizenship.  And certainly not by some holier-than-thou attitude that wants to put ourselves a step above everyone else.  None of those will rightly reflect the character of the God we are sent to represent.  Love does, though.  Love for people who are like us, and love for people who are not.  Love for people who have been kind to us, and love for people who have been rotten to us.  Love for people who love us back, and love for people who have disappointed us or broken our hearts.  Love is the touchstone.  Love is the way folks will catch a glimpse of Christ when they look at us.

And we can dare to risk that love for others because before we have even done a thing, God has loved us first and called us by that beautiful name... beloved.

Lord God, lover of our souls, our very lives, let us be defined by your love so fully that it seeps into every portion of our lives, and that we might be made into people who love you and your creation the way you have first loved us.

"An Open Letter"--Poem+Picture--July 09, 2019

"An Open Letter"
See Christ Here Poem + Picture--July 9, 2019

An Open Letter
To the Young Man
Who Came to the Church Door
Seeking to Shake the Ghosts of Your Family
and the Demons in Your Past:

This is just a reminder
You are forgiven already,
by a God who doesn't make deals
but only gives freely.

I hope you will believe.

#seeChristhere

"The God Who Sees"--Poem+Picture--July 8, 2019

"The God Who Sees"
See Christ Here Poem+Picture--July 8, 2019

Near the hill where I pray
the deer grazing in the field across the way
are blissfully unaware of me.

That is, I think, a gift.
It is grace to remain anonymous to them all,
not to have to be spotted by their eyes as they ruminate,
known only to the God who sees.

#seeChristhere

"The Kingdom Either Way"--Hope+New Life Devotions--July 9, 2019

The Kingdom Either Way--July 9, 2019

[Jesus said to the seventy he sent out:] "Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, 'The kingdom of God has come near to you.' But whenever you enter a town and they do not welcome you, go out into its streets and say, 'Even the dust of your town that clings to our feet, we wipe off in protest against you. Yet know this: the kingdom of God has come near'." [Luke 10:8-11]

No matter what happens, the Kingdom has come near.

No matter how we react, whether we respond with joy or criticism, the Reign of God breaks out.  With our acceptance and approval or in spite of our rejection, the new reality Jesus brings is right at hand.

That's an important detail to notice here in these verses.  I wanted to take a second look here at this passage involving the sending out of the seventy here in Luke 10, because there's more to be learned about how we are called to reflect Christ for the world around us.  And above all, what we have to be clear on is that no matter how Jesus' representatives are received, their message is to be the same: "The Kingdom of God has come near."  

That's it.  There is no further punishment doled out by Jesus' followers if they are not well-received.  There is no rage or throwing of hissyfits.  Nobody goes on a Twitter rampage berating "Those dumb losers in Such-and-Such Town that didn't welcome us," and nobody makes threats or shakes an angry first.  None of Jesus' people get to call names or yell profanities. Jesus does not permit them to spread rumors or tell lies about the people who rejected them, nor does he let them deny the reports that they have been rejected. No one gets to call fire down from heaven or pray for a plague.  Jesus' representatives, past and present, are only directed to give people exactly what they have asked for--and if the town has rejected them and wants them to leave, that means picking up their feet, shaking the dust off, and walking out in silence.  No bitterness.  No haranguing.  No pettiness.  The protest of leaving the dust behind is enough.

Now, in truth, if you go reading on to the next verse, Jesus says that there will be consequences for rejecting the Kingdom (he even says they will be worse than the consequences of Sodom from back in the Hebrew Bible, which, curiously enough, the prophet Ezekiel says were the punishment for the city's "pride, excess of food, and prosperous ease" while refusing to "aid the poor and needy"--see Ezekiel 16:49 if you don't believe me).  But what is clear is that whatever the ultimate consequences there are for rejecting Jesus' representatives, they aren't the ones who get to mete them out.  The people whom Jesus sends are directed only to bring the presence of the Kingdom, not to dole out judgment if people do not respond to it.  We are not even to threaten people with ominous warnings of fire and brimstone, at least as Jesus puts it here--only to embody what it looks like where God reigns, and then to say, "This is it folks--the Kingdom has come near."

Beyond that, we are to be vulnerable.  Utterly rejectable.  And let's be clear here--there's no other way to read this text. There is no option where we get to come in, threatening and intimidating, or getting provoked into a red-faced tirade if someone doesn't like the news of God's reign of justice and mercy that we bring.  Even how we handle disagreement with others--and even their outright rejection--are a part of our witness, and there's no way around that.

Honestly, I think that just might be the most radical part of this whole passage from Luke, at least for 21st century American ears.  We get excited about the idea of going out, empowered by God, and doing awesome things to impress others. We have a hard time imagining that the way we take rejection could actually be a witness to the character of Christ, too.  We are lacking, these days, good role models who can give lived examples of how to deal with hostility.  We have plenty of front-page illustrations of how to lash out oat people like petulant toddlers.  We have plenty of examples of petty one-upsmanship.  We have new material every day for how to respond to rejection with threats and accusations, with lies and name-calling.  But those are not acceptable responses for the followers of Jesus.  Period--full stop.  

We don't even get permission to separate experiences of personal rejection from having our religious message rejected, becuase there is never a time we are not living witnesses for Jesus.  There is never a time where it is OK to respond to someone else's criticism or hostility by threatening them, or name-calling, or petty bitterness.  Not when someone doesn't like your faith-claims, not when someone doesn't like your politics, and not when someone doesn't like you.  If we are followers of Jesus, we are always on the clock for him as his witnesses, and that means the way we bear rejection is a fundamental part of how we show love to an often loveless world.  If the One we represent saves the world by being rejected by it and still loving the world all the way to a cross anyway, then our lives and actions are called to reflect that same kind of love--a love that refuses to answer evil with evil, bitterness with bitterness, unkindness with unkindness.  If someone isn't interested in what Jesus has sent us to offer, we simply say, "As you wish," like Westley being pushed down the hillside by an unknowing Buttercup in The Princess Bride, and we shake the dust off our shoes to move onto offer the Kingdom to someone else.

There is, of course, a method to that madness.  It's because Jesus himself shows us what the Kingdom of God is really like, and Jesus was willing to bear rejection that way, too.  He was willing to accept that there would be times he offered nothing but unconditional grace and mercy, but was met with a bunch of angry bean-counters who didn't like how reckless that love seemed and whom Jesus gave it to.  Jesus was willing, as he famously says elsewhere in Luke, that he wanted to gather up the wayward people of God like a mother hen gathering her brood under her wing--a willingness to take on suffering and death in order to protect the chicks from the fox or the fire--but, as Jesus says, "You were not willing."  Jesus himself embodies a holy vulnerability, so of course we will be sent out with the same posture to the world. 

That's exactly why at the start of this story (back in the verses we looked at yesterday, in Luke 10:1-4) Jesus sent out these seventy representatives without supplies, without weapons, without money, and without extra clothes.  That's why Jesus says, "See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves."  The vulnerability isn't accidental--it is part of how we reflect the Christ who saves the world from a cross, who washes the feet of his betrayer, and who lets himself be rejected by the angry mob that cries, "Free Barabas!"  If we are going to be reflections of the actual, living Jesus--and not just some invention remade in our own image that we've slapped a beard and sandals onto--then vulnerability is part of what we bring to the world.  We are capable of being rejected. We are capable of being turned away. That is intentional on Jesus' part.

Being rejectable is not a design flaw of Jesus' strategy--it is a feature.  Indeed it is the very touchstone of how God's love reigns, because the God whose Kingdom we announce saves and rules the cosmos from a cross.  To offer the world the love of God means running the risk that the world will say, "No thanks; I'm looking for love somewhere else," and still to keep loving anyway, despite the rejection, because that is how love works.  The most we get to do, when we meet with that kind of rejection is to say, "As you wish," and turn away to keep on offering the Kingdom of God on the next place, and the next and the next.

And, to bring ourselves around back full circle, that's the whole point according to Jesus--the Kingdom has come either way.  We bring the presence of God's Reign into the world around us--imperfectly, yes, and with our own limitations, that's for sure.  But as we do the things Jesus empowered us to do--bring healing to the hurting, call out the powers of evil, and break bread with strangers--we bring the very Reign of God.  If people receive it, they will see the amazing beauty of how the broken are bound up and the lowly are lifted up--and they will know that the Kingdom of God has come near.  If people reject it, they will see a different beauty, but no less amazing, as we answer hostility with compassion and respect--and people will know that the Kingdom of God has been right at their fingertips.

From there, the question for those we meet will be left to them to answer: What will you do when you come face to face with the Kingdom of God? What will you do when you are offered a love that gives itself away so freely and fully--and will you still insist on some damned quest to find a "better" deal or a more glamorous looking "love" somewhere else?

We don't get to control how folks answer that.  We don't have to.  Ours is simply to reflect Jesus for others, and no matter how they respond, at least they will know the Kingdom has come near to them, either way.

Lord Jesus, give us the courage and grace to be rejectable, and the resilience to keep offering your love even when it is difficult for us.

"De-Centering Ourselves"--July 8, 2019

De-Centering Ourselves--July 8, 2019

After this the Lord appointed seventy others and sent them on ahead of him in pairs to every town and place where he himself intended to go. He said to them, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest. Go on your way. See, I am sending you out like lambs into the midst of wolves. Carry no purse, no bag, no sandals; and greet no one on the road. Whatever house you enter, first say, 'Peace to this house!' And if anyone is there who shares in peace your peace will rest on that person; but if not, it will return to you. Remain in the same house, eating and drinking whatever they provide, for the laborer deserves to be paid. Do not move about from house to house. Whenever you enter a town and its people welcome you, eat what is set before you; cure the sick who are there, and say to them, 'The kingdom of God has come near to you'." [Luke 10:1-9]

Jesus has a way, somehow, of being right in the middle of things without needing to make himself the center of attention.  That right there is some tricky maneuvering.  But it's important for us to pay attention to, because Jesus sends his representatives (us) out to do the same.  Because we are sent as Jesus' witnesses into the world around us, we are called to be the same kind of presence Jesus always was, which pointed beyond itself to the Reign of God and lifted up the people who had been too long left at the margins.

Jesus, in other words, shows us how to de-center ourselves so that, like him, we can attend wholeheartedly to practicing the presence of the Kingdom of God.

We already know how bad things can go when someone doesn't know how to get out of the center of attention, or worse, when they keep shoving others out of the limelight so they can get more of its glow.  

We've all been to the wedding where the father of the bride makes a big deal parading around his new girlfriend as his date to the reception, and we've seen how everyone groans with embarrassment wishing he could just let the day belong to the bride and the groom.  You've been in those times when you wish the parent of the bride would have understood that it would have been better (and less pathetic) not to bring a date at all than to detract the attention away from the couple who should really be the center of the celebration.

Or you've been to the birthday party where the mom (or aunt or grandmother or dad--pick your relative) is just so obsessed with pointing out that she made the cupcakes that none of the kids get to just eat--they all have to take pictures of the dessert for a social media posting, and then they all have to fawn over someone's culinary accomplishment... when it should have been a day for the birthday kid to celebrate.  It would almost have been better just not to have the cupcakes at all if they were just going to be used as props for feeding someone's insecurity.

There's something about needing to make yourself the center of attention that just ruins a moment that should have been joyful. From the father of the bride who wants everyone (especially his ex) to see he brought a date to the wedding, to the helicopter parents at the birthday party, to the relative who commandeers the table conversation every Thanksgiving to the friend who always finds a way to make every conversation about himself, we know how something beautiful becomes soured when someone's insecurity makes them leap into the center of attention, rather than being ok with a spot at the edges so that someone else can be in focus.

So if you have seen and experienced how unpleasant any of those situations can be, let's consider how Jesus models for us an alternative.   This scene from Luke's gospel is a fantastic case study.  Jesus sends out followers of his who will go to towns where Jesus himself is going... and yet these disciples aren't told to drum up interested in a religious product called "Christianity." He doesn't even given them a script with the name "Jesus" in it at all.   These seventy missionaries are sent to point beyond themselves, and even beyond a "brand," simply to "the Kingdom of God"--a reality that is all-encompassing and universal.  When these missionaries get to a town, they aren't supposed to make a big deal about themselves or present a list of demands (like rock stars with their infamous contract rider clauses insisting on bowls of red M&M candies in the dressing room, or outlandish needs for their entourages). They aren't supposed to draw attention to themselves with large suitcases full of supplies or merchandise, and they aren't supposed to bring any weapons to protect themselves or make themselves look more intimidating.  They aren't supposed to fuss over what they are served to eat, so long as someone opens their door and invites them to their tables.  These missionaries aren't supposed to make a spectacle, but simply to heal people who are sick, call out the powers of evil wherever they see them, and then say, "This is what the Kingdom of God looks like."  Jesus doesn't even ask for a name-drop!

Isn't that curious?  You would think of all people, Jesus would have the right and the authority to make this all about himself!  You would think Jesus would want to get as much name recognition for his personal brand as possible--well, we would if Jesus were just another purveyor of Respectable Religion.  But instead, by de-centering himself, Jesus is able to raise up the people who are in need of attention (the sick, those oppressed by evil powers, the hopeless) and also to draw their attention to a reality that lifts them all up: the Kingdom of God.

Jesus goes to his kid's wedding without a new hot date so that he is free to be there wholly and completely for his kid, and so he can find the wallflowers sitting sadly at a table and to let them know he is glad they came to the reception.  Jesus bakes the cupcakes but doesn't need to mention that he spent hours in the kitchen, because he knows not to make the kids' party all about him.  Jesus sends out missionaries without needing to get the credit or positive name recognition out of the healings they perform on his authority, so that it can be clear that their mission is not a stealth-marketing campaign, but really just about bringing people into the presence of God's Reign.

And if Jesus chose this kind of model for his strategy, maybe it would be wise of us to practice it, too.  After all, if we are sent to be reflections of Christ for the world (and we are), maybe we should consider that Jesus was intentional in what he did and the way he did things.  Maybe our calling isn't to draw attention to ourselves, or our congregation, or our denomination, or whatever, when we serve people in our community, because that smacks of hogging the limelight.  Maybe our work in this day is not to dominate conversations by bragging about our own accomplishments, but to leave space for listening to others where they are, so we can attend to their actual needs rather than what we think they should need.  Maybe we can get out of the way of ourselves so that we can be more fully present for the people Jesus is sending us to, and more fully aware of the Kingdom Jesus is calling us to announce.

My goodness, we could be free of so much garbage, so much of our own insecurity, so much of our own need for attention, if we dared to let Jesus teach us how to de-center ourselves.  And maybe, without the need to constantly (and not very subtly) mention the date on our arms or the cupcakes we baked, we can simply say, as Jesus teaches us to say, "The Kingdom of God has come near."

Maybe that's where the attention should be directed in the first place.

Lord Jesus, teach us how to be decentered like you so that we can turn our attention to the Reign of God and the people you are drawing into it.