The Questions

It’s the questions, isn’t it? We study the Scriptures, words and contexts, digging deeper and deeper into the meanings and interpreting it however we interpret it. Then, hopefully, we can integrate the lessons and/or practices into our lives, and this integration invites us into new versions of ourselves. This is the beauty, opportunity, and responsibility of a sermon.

This week, we studied the example in Ecclesiastes of a person who has all the money and material wealth and can’t enjoy it. Admittedly, this is not a difficult jump to make from ancient wisdom literature to 2025 America, so the job of the teacher is fairly simple. (I find this to be the case with most of the Bible – we have not progressed or evolved nearly as far as we like to believe. The Israelites continued to relive the same loops through the Old Testament, and so do we.)

I think about this a lot. But on Monday mornings, I sit with my notebook, thinking about, in this case, what are my values, and are my answers consistent with my life? And then, where have I chosen a different #1, a different, inferior WHY to inform and animate my life? These are the nagging thorns in my mind that keep me up at night.

We can read verses and passages, close our Bibles, and remain unaffected. We can even commit these same verses to memory, without ever letting them make the giant leap from our heads to our hearts. But I find it’s these questions that create the bridges. They’re like keys that unlock closed doors. When was the last time we meditated on words written thousands of years ago? I would suggest (maybe I would hope) very recently. If we have ever been conflicted about the long hours at work that keep us from home, from our families, and have calculated the cost of our careers and hobbies, that is simply today’s form of the Jewish Talmud.

The Talmud (in probably offensively simple terms) is an extra-Biblical text where rabbis wrote about and commented on the Scriptures. Essentially, it was where they worked out what this meant for their lives, how it would/could be expressed in real life. We do this, too, every day. We just don’t have a cool name for our seeking.

Solomon details the meaninglessness of the idolatry of our stuff. And tv shows and blog posts ask us to stop to look at the hold our own things have on us. Whether we realize it or not, we’re diving into a practice that has existed as long as we have. What do we believe? Do we, really? And if that’s true, if we do actually believe that, what does that mean for our lives? It’s easy to see how vital this testament of faith & self-discovery can change every little part of our lives. And it should. Maybe the passive, detached distance we too often choose is the exception. And maybe the disruption we all feel is that this exception, being on the outside, just dipping our toes in, is no longer good enough.

Last Saturday’s Wedding

I get to officiate weddings, fairly often. [I never like the word “officiate,” it reminds me of referees and umpires, which inevitably leads me to associate an embarrassing level of incompetence. Ha, I’m just kidding. But I do think calling balls and strikes and joining 2 people in one of the most wonderful gifts God has ever created are wildly different, and absolutely should not share the same word. Anyway.] This weekend was a unique wedding, it was a surprise.

Every time I have mentioned this ‘surprise’ wedding, I am asked, “Is it a surprise to the couple?” I can’t tell if they’re joking when they ask. Is this a thing? Could I have sprung a roomful of our closest family & friends on Angel, to marry her? Do people ever do this? I guess they do, but this was not that. There were 4 people in the room who knew, the soon-to-be husband and wife, the Angel and I.

The room itself was packed and noisy, as the ruse was a family reunion. Now, not only were we not technically part of this family, it was even more noteworthy. This was a very Hispanic family, and as you may be aware, we are not Hispanic. We were the only white people, whom no one knew, in this “family.”

[Another thing of which you may be aware, is that I do not ascribe to the tenets of the modern religion of tolerance. I do not call myself colorblind. I see colors, races, and cultures very clearly. And I do not tolerate them at all. As a matter of fact, I think to simply tolerate another human being (no matter their demographic) is much, much less than adequate. We are called to love, in no uncertain terms. We love our neighbor, not, as it is defined, “allow the existence without interference…endure (something unpleasant or disliked) with forbearance.” This is not progressive thought, it is holding our nose and ignoring something we don’t like, and refuse to like. I am blissfully intolerant. Instead, I am a lover. So, this party was loud, affectionate, beautiful, and they easily welcomed me with open arms.]

We pretended to begin to play a game, which quickly was revealed to be not a game at all, and instead was the first day of the marriage of 2 of the coolest people you’d ever meet, who had been together for 30 years! I was not only the game show host, not only a guest of their family, but I was the pastor that had the honor of marrying them.

Usually, weddings are a fairly subdued affair. They’re quiet and ordered. I often get the feeling that the ceremony is seen as the entrance fee to the reception. But, either way, everyone is mostly quiet and might be listening. This wedding was not one of those. It was raucous and fantastically joyful. Everyone was crying, taking pictures, dancing. Of course, they were listening – though it did require an adjustment on my part, more pauses, and significantly more volume.

Do you know what liminal spaces are? They are places in time where we imagine the distance between ourselves and God shrinks, where God comes near and the separation disappears. As I write it, it’s kind of a clumsy term/metaphor. It implies separation at all other times. This is not at all accurate, but you understand the idea. There are moments where we are totally aware of the Divine, His boundless love for us, and we are given a picture of what His creation could be. This was one of them. Sunday mornings are another. Well, there are a lot of them, if I’m honest, if we just can stay awake.

SO, this place was noisy and awesome, and right in the middle, everyone stopped talking, no one moved an inch. I saw them holding each other, each pair of watery eyes on me. And what was it that caused this sharp, shocking contrast? I was reading the Bible, 1 Corinthians 13, to be exact. The Word of God filled us, and no one could move, overwhelmed with reverence and His presence.

And that’s the point, isn’t it? We are all different; different geography, experiences, ideas, different lives and perspectives. But God brings us all together, bridges every divide, until we are finally able to clearly see that those wonderful differences pale in comparison to the one thing we all have in common, which is that we are all brothers and sisters, children of the One True Living God.

Set Apart

While we were on vacation, the Angel and I went out to dinner at a fancy restaurant. She wondered, “does it ever surprise you how people dress at different places?” Now, before I give my 2 cents on this, it’s entrely possible she was talking to me. I was wearing very casual shorts and a polo shirt. She said she wasn’t referring to me specifically, so I’ll choose to believe her. But, honestly, whether she meant it or not, she was right. Did it surprise me how I was dressed at such a fancy place, on a date with a beautiful woman (who looked like a million bucks)?

My answer was no, but it was a complicated no.

I wasn’t surprised because I do quite a few weddings, and more and more guests are wearing t-shirts and baseball caps. There used to be “church clothes,” and now there aren’t. Teachers at the local school district no longer wear ties or dress shoes, often opting for jeans and yoga pants instead.

Now, on the one hand, at least in the case of church clothes, that you come is more important than how you come, right? And any obstacle should be removed, immediately. And maybe that reasoning applies in other places. That our weird uncle shows up to our wedding is the point, no matter what he’s wearing. And if being comfortable helps the school with teaching times tables or American history, then by all means, dress down.

There is a cost to everything, and in this casualization (yes, probably not a word, but you get the point) of our culture, something has been lost.

If we don’t set moments, people, and events apart as special, will they eventually lose their special-ness? Will we become desensitized to the concept of significance? Will everything just become common and forgettable? If I can go to the gym, then to the grocery store, then to dinner with the Angel, without changing my clothes (or mindset), does that subconsciously express an equality where none exist? A date with my wife is not the same as grocery shopping. Without a delineation between moments, wouldn’t they all run together?

On days I officiate weddings, the preparation takes time. I shave, iron my shirt, purposefully choose a tie and wristwatch. This focus, I think, is totally appropriate for the ceremony – after all, this is the first day of a marriage. Superficial or not, this intention helps to move my heart into a reverent posture.

Now, maybe it’s not that important. Maybe we don’t need superficialities to recognize special-ness. Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe it isn’t necessarily a disregard for significance. Maybe it is the reclamation of the essence of a beautiful moment without any bells or whistles. Maybe.

Or maybe it is a blurring of lines, disrespect for time and space, disregard of the sacred nature of everyone and everything. Maybe some things should feel different, maybe they should be different.

Who knows? See? A complicated no. Here’s what I know: I want you there Sunday morning, and I don’t care if you haven’t gotten to brush your teeth and are still wearing your pajamas. But here’s what else I know: I was underdressed for our dinner. I felt as if I was communicating something about our time that I didn’t want to communicate, even for a second.

We can throw away convention, if we want, and cut out all mindless traditions. But that’s the key, isn’t it? The word “mindless.” We can lose the things, but we need to be aware that we are losing them. We need to be absolutely sure we can, and want to, bear the cost. Things don’t gain or lose their significance in t-shirts and yoga pants. Things only lose their significance through our apathy and mindlessness.

Riot!!!

[This was a casualty of the message last week. It’s not that it wasn’t important, it was simply too long for a single Sunday, and wouldn’t fit next week. But this is a great opportunity. In a new medium, we have a different experience. We have more time, space, we can pause, look up verses, consider the questions and implications. At the same time, we don’t have the immediacy and energy of the physical presence or the community. It’s a mixed bag, but a cool mixed bag of possibility. Like so much of the online world, it can be an awesome supplement, but is a poor substitute for actual, real, in person, life, together. So, here we go…]

As the Gospel spreads, the news that Peter has been eating previously forbidden foods with Gentiles (gasp!!) reaches Jerusalem…(Acts 11:1-3)

This is great news, new people are hearing and receiving the Good News of Jesus Christ. But… (What? How can there be a “But” – isn’t the idea that we are to carry the Gospel to the “ends of the earth?” Yes, but maybe only if it doesn’t reach those people.) Yes, of course, there is always a “but,” always criticism. When we face this inevitability, how do we respond? Do we see it as a sign? Of what? If there is opposition, do we see it as a closed door, or a challenge to push harder? What we see here is that criticism is not necessarily a sign that we are wrong, but instead, maybe a sign that we are right where we need to be.

Peter explains his actions, and then what? How is all of this received?

V. 18 “When the others heard this, all their objections were answered and they began praising God,” I love this, and so do you, but it does ask some very hard questions of us: Can we change our minds? Are we so invested in having all of the answers, is our value so tied to being right, that we can’t even consider anything else, even with new evidence? The Gospel has a cost (which is, primarily, the disposal of our very own “gospel of me”), are we prepared to bear that massive cost? 

And then, we later see, there is another way to respond to the message: (Acts 19:21-32)

Demetrius, a silversmith, makes his very prosperous living making shrines of the goddess Artemis. (This is an illustration of the inverse of Ephesians 2:10: Our God makes art, masterpieces, out of people. Demetrius makes art out of the gods.) With his business & lifestyle threatened, Demetrius starts a riot.

Have you ever read a book or a Bible passage, saw a movie, heard a talk or tv show, and thought, “Oh boy, if this is true, nothing can ever be the same again?” “I can’t do ___, I can’t feel, vote, think, say, watch, whatever, ever again. Everything will change.” That is exactly what’s happening here. They’ve built a society that’s veracity & validity is under attack.

The Ephesians justified their greed & idolatry (worship of the goddess Artemis), wrapping it in religion, in tribalism. We know it’s not. The idol looked like money, comfort, power, but that’s superficiality. The real idol is always ME.

The Gospel saves us, but it does threaten us, as well. There is a cost. Jesus and His amazing grace threaten our ego, which wants to riot to protect itself. Our ego wants us to choose the pigs. (Luke 8:26-39)

These are big questions Peter’s story, Paul’s story, the book of Acts, and the Great Commission ask: As The Gospel moves in our towns, cities, families, and lives, starting riots, disrupting all we know, disrupting “just how it is,” “just how we are,” disrupting our values, relationships, realities, religion, politics, society, disrupting every-single-thing, what will we choose? With all of this set before us, now what???

“Now what?” is one of the most exciting doors we can open. Are we willing to put someOne or something before ourselves? Are we willing to put the relationship before the win? Are we willing to start to dismantle the fragile houses we’ve built on sand, for the promise of a new, eternal house built upon the solid rock of the Gospel of Jesus Christ. Once we’ve seen the Truth, do we respond in praise or a riot?

Now what?

Legacy

Last Sunday, I gave a pretty personal message. Sometimes, the most personal things can be alienating. No one is going through the exact same circumstances or situations, no 2 people are really walking the same path. However, far more often, the most personal expressions are the most universal, because we are all having this human experience and share much, much more than we don’t. When Taylor Swift talks about her ultra-famous boyfriend breaking up with her, of course we can’t relate to those specific details, but we certainly do with broken hearts. We hear the words from her diary and they feel pulled from our souls, from our own relationships.

Paul gave his farewell address to the elders in Ephesus…a wildly different place than our small town in Pennsylvania, different people, different culture. Yet, his words ring true to us, here, now, as we read them 2,000 years later on our cell phone apps. So, it’s my birthday, and it probably isn’t yours (unless you’re my cousin), but we’ve all asked the same questions, right? What would our farewell address be? I mentioned our legacy, and that’s such a pretentious word, but it just means “something passed down.” What would we pass down? Would they remember us, and how?

On one hand, we can’t spend too much time considering this, or we’ll end up thinking about how to live a beautiful life instead of actually living one. But, as with most everything significant, it doesn’t just happen. Beautiful, lasting lives require examination and intention.

I asked these questions: Do we want our last post to be a mean, nasty, cutting one? Do we want to leave with a separation, with something between us? Do we want the last thing we say to be anything less than love, grace, peace, or Jesus? Do we want the people we leave to know we love them? Have we told them today? Have we shown them today? Have we proclaimed the Gospel, with our words, hands, feet, resources, and lives? Have we been patient and kind? Have we loved? 

I often reference our social media posts, because I find them shockingly sharp and aggressive, from even the most lovely people. It seems that we don’t consider their impact, as if they’re made in a vacuum, as if they are not actual personal connection, not us at all. It’s like the coliseum, where we fight, kill or be killed. (It is not. There are flesh and blood moms and dads, sisters, brothers, behind those profile pictures and posts of perfect dinner plates.)

Anyway. Have we loved? I can think of no better string to wrap around our fingers or tattoo on our hands. That is a fitting legacy, maybe the only fitting legacy.

Or have we been annoyed, short, bothered? Did we ignore those holy moments, or were we just distracted, or running late? Maybe we scolded them, made them feel small, mocked, made fun? Do they feel inspired after seeing us, by simply seeing themselves through our own eyes, through fresh words and possibilities? Are they beaten down again, or filled with the hope of redemption? When they walk away, have they seen the love of God in, from, us?

Life can be pretty hard. Do we want to be the ones that ease pain, bring peace, extending hands instead of throwing fists? Are we the ones who are raising our arms to defend our sides, or are we taking our arms and wrapping them around each other? Have we loved, always, and in all ways? I know that last answer is no, of course it’s no, but if we can only start thinking about what it is that we are passing down, maybe it’ll be no less often. And maybe we can start singing some great new songs.

Till Death?

I received this beautifully considered & written piece from a fellow brother at the Bridge (who wishes to remain anonymous):

(But before you see it, understand that this is the sort of thing I had always envisioned this space to be – a space where anyone/everyone in our community could express themselves, on the things that matter to you. I love the idea of us being prompted by the Spirit, so much so that we would sit down and follow that prompt, wherever it takes us. It can start conversations, here or elsewhere, but it will certainly affect us, ask us questions, and invite us into a deeper relationship, with God, ourselves, and the others in our circles. Enjoy!)

“The phrase “Till Death Do Us Part” is frequently contained within marriage vows. Matthew 19:4-6 (CEV) states: “Jesus answered, ‘Don’t you know that in the beginning the Creator made a man and a woman? That’s why a man leaves his father and mother and gets married. He becomes like one person with his wife. Then they are no longer two people, but one. And no one should separate a couple that God has joined together.’”

Death of a Christian spouse releases their soul to Paradise while the other remains on earth. When the remaining spouse dies, will that soul rejoin their married partner? Possibly, according to Lee and Annette Woofenden, under certain conditions: 1) Each individual would need to be in a right relationship with God; 2) Each of the married couples must love the other more than themselves.

In the article, “Will Happily Married Couples be Together in Heaven?” by Lee and Annette Woofenden, they state the following: “What God does is not temporary, but eternal. So, if God joins man and woman in marriage, it is a relationship that can last forever.”

This article and related articles may be viewed at: “How does Marriage Fit In with a Spiritual Life? Is There Marriage in Heaven?”

What do you think? Will our souls rejoin our earthly spouses in Paradise??? It’s a fascinating possibility, that could provide hours, and months, years of contemplation, not to mention the huge box those 2 conditions open. There are verses/passages to follow down as many “rabbit trails” as you’d care to walk. This is the beautiful opportunity of the Bible and of The Church. We read the Scriptures, begin to be transformed, then take those new thoughts, insights, ideas, doubts, and questions to others we trust to keep turning over the jewels, getting deeper and deeper through our engagement. 

So, engage!! Turn it over, wrestle, think – we have been given the unfathomable gift of relationship with the Creator of the Universe (and of us), why would we not lean in? 

But, as for me, on this subject, in case you were wondering…I certainly hope so.

A Dallas Cowboy Win

The Dallas Cowboys are the official NFL team of the Bridge Faith Community, I’ve decided, and yesterday they barely eked out an overtime win over the hated rival New York Giants. To be honest with you, it was pretty disappointing, and as I am examining why that is, I am finding that it speaks to a reality that is far mare important than some dumb game in Texas.

Every year, I think the Cowboys will win the Super Bowl, and every year since 1995, I am wrong. This no longer ruins my year, season, month or even day, like it did when I was a teenager. They are just my favorite team. I am not a player, I have no stake in the team whatsoever. Yet, I would say I love them. [Obviously, not in the way I love my wife or any other person I actually know. I’m not an insane teenager anymore.] This is, I recognize, a ridiculous reality, but it is a reality nonetheless.

Now, let me tell you about a family beach vacation, about 10-15 years ago. One evening, we were on the boardwalk and my sister and I began to argue – I don’t remember what it was about, more than that I wanted her to say and/or do something, and she wasn’t saying or doing that thing, that way. She wanted the same from me. We had pictures in our heads of how the evening should go, and when they didn’t, we were frustrated and angry.

(If you have a sibling, you know the kind of ‘frustrated and angry’ I’m talking about. There is a certain safety in screaming out of frustrating and anger at someone you’ve lived with since you were born.)

Why were we arguing on a beautiful night on a boardwalk in Ocean City? For the same reason I was (am) disappointed in a nice win. It’s also the same reason the Angel and I usually have conflict, in our relationship. When I’m shockingly mean to me, in my head, it’s for this reason, too. And it’s also why I don’t buy, or listen to, the new Counting Crows albums. While we’re on the subject, it’s probably why we all hate each other on social media.

My sister and I fought because we had an expectation for the evening, we expected something from the other. I expect the Dallas Cowboys to win every game, comfortably. When I listen to new Counting Crows records, I still have August & Everything After in my head, and this new one is never that! I walk into these conversations with my wife with expectations that she will see it my way, or respond to me in a particular way.

Expectations are about what they should do, what they are supposed to say, how this should go, who should win, how you are supposed to see the world, and on and on. And when they don’t, when it doesn’t, I am disappointed and petty. I lash out, or pout (in other words, I say mean things or nothing at all.)

That night on the boardwalk opened my eyes to a new question, instead of why she didn’t participate in my mental construct for a perfect evening. Who in the world was I to decide how she should be, what she should say???? What gave me the right to be the all-knowing arbiter of what is supposed to be?

And when I finally asked that question, and searched my super ugly parts for the truth, it’s easy to see that I gave me that right. It’s simple arrogance, the same idolatry that is so commonplace all over the Bible and still is, today, in every corner of all creation. I didn’t like that answer, but what I like or don’t like doesn’t really matter when we’re talking about the truth.

What if I could have allowed my sister to be and do only what she wants to be and do? What if I didn’t have to control every aspect of all people and circumstances? I’ll tell you what happens – I am free to enjoy the time. I am surprised by the kindness, care and thoughtfulness of people, and the stunning beauty of my life, when it can unfold naturally, without my need to write everyone’s story by the blinding light of my own altar. Most importantly, without expectation, I am free to be grateful.

I can’t always do it (like yesterday’s NFL game, for example), maybe I never will be perfect, but I’ll sure keep trying. It’s totally worth it. Those Counting Crows albums probably aren’t so bad, after all.

Psycho Catfish

There is a new documentary on Netflix, called Unknown Number: The High School Catfish. A catfish is an actual fish, a “diverse group of ray-finned fish,” “any of an order (Siluriformes) of chiefly freshwater stout-bodied scaleless bony fishes having long tactile barbels,” but it is also a person who pretends to be someone else online. They masquerade for lots of reasons, from self-consciousness to pedophilia, and everything in between. There is a show on MTV called Catfish, that I love, that details the search to uncover the identities of internet love interests. This search/reveal can be light and insignificant or it can be devastating.

This documentary is not the light, insignificant kind.

A 15 year old girl starts getting text messages from the same person using unknown numbers. The texts are shockingly lewd, inappropriate, mean, and bullying. They are about sex acts with her boyfriend, trying to break them up, they are hateful missives about her looks & weight, and they encourage her to commit suicide. Sometimes, there are a few, sometimes as many as 50 or 60 per day. The police are involved, and are completely ineffective in exposing the sender. Finally, it is an FBI agent who discovers that it is… (spoiler alert!!!)…the girl’s MOTHER!!!!!!!!!!! The mom makes excuses and is awfully unlikable. That’s all we’ll say about the film, except to say I didn’t really care for it (for lots of reasons.)

This post is called “Psycho Catfish,” which is what she was, right? She was awful and went to prison for around 19 months, and should probably have been longer – the text abuse lasted longer (almost 2 full years). Right? She cried hollow tears over the worst of the consequences, that she hasn’t seen her daughter – the same daughter she tormented. Can you have empathy for this woman, the best documentaries ask. Can you? How can a human being be capable of this??

Now. In Acts 9, Jesus stops Saul on the road to Damascus and says, “Why ate you persecuting ME?” Saul was chasing the early followers of Jesus, capturing them and bringing them back “in chains,” often to their death. He wasn’t persecuting Jesus, just His followers, right? Just? In the Gospels, Jesus said, “when you did (either good or evil, getting food & drinks or not) to/for them, you did it to/for ME.”

We have read these passages, sometimes many, many times. But this all happened 2,000 years ago, what do they possibly have to do with us?

Well, these verses seem to suggest that the things we do/say/think/post about people, we are doing/saying/thinking/posting about HIM. If that is the case, then what? I called that mom a psycho, decided that she should have been in jail for much longer, and rolled my eyes at what I thought were crocodile tears. Does that mean I’m calling Jesus names? Is that using Him & His Name carelessly, disrespectfully? Is that blasphemy?

Well, if we take the Scriptures seriously, it probably is. The thing this mom did was wrong and terrible. Of this, we can agree. This is just the truth. However, what is also true is that Jesus sees her exactly the same way he sees his perfect people (like you & me;), with forgiveness, grace, and endless, limitless love.

What this mom did was heartbreaking, but were her transgressions worse than Saul’s??? No way. And, if we are honest, are they that much worse than my own worst moments? Maybe they are. I think they were, but of course I’d say that. So, who am I to decide?

You know I don’t think the Bible was written to shame us, so the fact that I’m calling this “Psycho Catfish” isn’t driving me into the ground. My thoughts about her aren’t pushing play on the tapes in my head that would crush me with guilt. As He has grace for her, and for Saul, HE has for me. Maybe I can, too?

But what they are doing is asking me some very hard questions, challenging me about my perspectives, my words, the way I see those around me (and especially those in Washington D.C.). If they are Jesus, then what? What if these stories in the Bible didn’t only happen thousands of years ago? It’s overwhelming to think they are still happening today, here, and now.

Although

The note in my personal Bible, for the book of 2nd Chronicles, chapter 18, verse 1, reads, “Although Jehoshaphat was deeply committed to God, he arranged for his son to marry Athaliah, the daughter of wicked Ahab.” And as far as interesting, loaded sentences go, that’s pretty terrific.

The 2 kings mentioned were the leaders of the north and south kingdoms of, what was and would be, the nation of Israel. Jehoshaphat was a good, moral king, Ahab was not. In fact, Ahab was probably the worst of them all. But sometimes political interests are more important than religious, spiritual ones. (Obviously, we wouldn’t know anything about that, but just try to use your wildest imagination to put yourself in this ancient time.) Jehoshaphat followed the God of his ancestors, but even so, he decided this alliance was important/valuable/necessary/whatever word describes why & how we would ever rationalize shelving our principles for political viability and gain. I’ll choose “necessary,” because that is what I often hear as explanation for the ways we decide the words of Jesus just aren’t practical, here, now. So, this alliance was necessary to rebuild a powerful, re-connected Israel.

Of course, it didn’t go that way, wasn’t necessary at all.

I am not a king or a politician, so this doesn’t relate on a strictly apples to apples basis, but I do know very well about rationalization. And I do know the truth of the “although.”

Although I love Jesus, I can be really judgy, sometimes. Although I am absolutely clear on His commands to NOT judge, I can still choose to do it. Although I am deeply committed to my fitness and physical health, I often eat like a 6-year old. (I am the walking, talking, weightlifting illustration of the harsh truth, “you can’t out train a bad diet.” I wish you could. I would have the best abs.) I see other drivers on the road who have Jesus fish on their cars; although they love Jesus, so much that they’d advertise it on their bumpers, they have cut others off and raged behind the wheel. Although some pastors love Jesus and have given their careers to spreading the Gospel, they can deliver some of the most hurtful speech about others who are under His grace, just as they are. Although people love their spouses, they… You get the idea. How many ways do we live out the “althoughs?”

This is one of the very cool things about the Bible. We can’t relate at all to choosing politics over faith, but we can easily translate that into lots of other areas of our lives. It is timely – real people (Jehoshaphat, Athaliah), real times (hundreds of years B.C.), real places (Israel), and real tensions (arranged marriage between heirs, political maneuvering) – these things are specific to a time. We live in 2025 in a small town in Pennsylvania, our kids choose their own partners, we never get politics mixed up, never elevate it to an idol that would direct our steps with our friends and families.

But it is also timeless – the “althoughs” and the constant struggle in our hearts, decisions, and relationships between God and all of the other, lesser things that would take His place.

Who would guess that something Jehoshaphat did or said thousands of years ago, would have the ability to ask such vital questions of us? Isn’t it fascinating that Ahab and Athaliah have meaning in our careers and marriages, that 2 wicked characters would invite us into a deep dive into our own days and moments?

I have a book called God Is In This Place, and it dissects Genesis 28:16 (maybe I mentioned that verse before;), using 9 chapters to interpret it in 9 very different ways. It has crossed my mind to take a passage or verse, probably a parable of Jesus, and teach it several weeks in a row. The Bible is often compared to a diamond, with facets that change the look of the stone with each small turn.

There are so many perspectives of the life & rule of Jehoshaphat, but today, we’ll just be knocked out by the warning of his own “although,” and hopefully not make it our own.

A Genesis 28:16 World

Genesis 28:16 reads, “When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.”” I reference it often, the most recent of which being just last Sunday, telling the story I’m about to tell again, here & now.

This verse is inextricably tied to the death of my dad, because it found me as I was raw and in such pain, struggling with his absence, mourning the hole he left. The truth that I was also mourning the hole I allowed while he was alive was almost too much to bear – I was very unaware. This warning changed the rest of my life, as I vowed to never be unaware ever again, never miss the divine in others, never sleep through the sacred moments & people (which is, of course, all of them) in my life.

You know how vows are, though…I have still missed far too much. But I’m trying, and I’m getting better, more awake, all the time.

Anyway, we moved my youngest son into his college dorm room last week. The school, Lycoming College, then, held a Convocation. I had never heard the word before, (and I really like words, and I like to know lots of them!!), so I didn’t know what we were in for.

A Convocation, according to our great, all-knowing sage, Wikipedia, is “a group of people formally assembled for a special purpose, mostly ecclesiastical or academic. The Britannica dictionary defines it as “a large formal meeting of people” It’s just a gathering, or the act of calling people together for a gathering. (There is such a cool thing coming, in about a paragraph or 2.) This convocation was a “welcome, new students,” gathering, and was moving, emotional, and charged with all of the weight of beginning a new stage of life, for all of us, students & parents alike.

Well, not all of us. There were many students listening to music, watching TikTok videos, or messaging others. Then, a few rows from me, 3 students were loudly talking (I still don’t know if they were talking to each other or their phones – I’m pretty sure it was certainly about the content on their phones.) Did I say “loudly?” LOUDLY. They were so loud, not using their inside voices at all.

Now. Of course, this awful behavior, and these 3 people, is/are rude and disrespectful. Elementary children are less obnoxious than these college students. BUT. What struck me was how depressing it was, and how depressed I was, for them.

They were taking their first steps into a brand new world. They are beginning their adult lives, full of promise and possibility. They are becoming the people they will be, and this process starts with this beautiful ceremony. What could be more significant??

And they missed it. And I don’t think they’re unique in this, I think it’s probably a Genesis 28:16 world.

Now, can you guess where the word Convocation comes from? Leviticus!! In Leviticus 23, God instructed His people to set aside holy times to gather, worship, and refocus on His covenant. Convocation actually means a “sacred meeting!!”

Surely the Lord was in that place, and they were unaware.

My heart breaks, even now. They’ll never get another convocation as first time, incoming college students. God was there, filling that gymnasium, whispering His call on their lives, through the 6 people who addressed them, and through the other students who will be the iron that sharpens them.

The thing about the burning bush was not that it was burning, bushes burn all the time, it’s that it wasn’t being consumed. That takes presence and attention, awareness when the Lord is in this place, wherever “this place” is. These 3 were like what was surely countless others who walked on by, unaware, until Moses noticed and his life, and the lives of a nation and a world, changed.

And my next thought is always, I wonder where I have been unaware. Where have I missed it, missed my life, missed the sacred in my midst? I really hope those kids wake up, and I hope we all do, too, so we never again suffer the crushing ache of having to say, “and I was unaware.”