perspective

Leadership

The website that we use to create & post content on the Bridge (bridgefaithcommunity.com) and the Love With A Capital L (lovewithacapitall.com) websites is called Jetpack. It’s easy and free, 2 characteristics that make it very friendly for me. Jetpack wants it’s users to post often and gives lots of tools to make that happen. One of them is a prompt (a question or an idea), and today’s is: Do you see yourself as a leader?

This is interesting, because we all can have such widely contrasting views on this question. The nature of my position at the Bridge makes it obvious for me, but how do you answer the prompt? I’ve heard the phrase, “I’m no leader,” so many times, I’d start to believe it, if it wasn’t so wrong.

I also hear “I’m not a creative person.” Where do you think these lies began? When did we first hear them? Were they something we were told? And why? Why would someone lead us to believe such false notions about ourselves?

Much of our journey of faith, following Jesus, is un-learning the nonsense we’ve been taught.

Not a creative person? If we are awake and aware, if we look around, we see the fruit of a wildly creative God. The world is exploding with color and texture and beauty and function. We are made in the image of that God. It is as if we are saying, “We are all made in His image…except for me.” It’s strange we would accept this as truth isn’t it?

As far as leadership, last week we discussed our relationships in the home and asked some very difficult questions: Are we keeping score, making long records of wrongs? Are we patient? AND would our children be the first to call us patient? Would our spouses be defending our kindness? Would they defend the words we use, or our tones? Are we proud? Would our wives or children say we need it our way? Do they think we need to control how we make a pb&j sandwich? 

If these questions are so valuable (and so hard to answer honestly), that implies that people are watching. Our children are learning from our example. Our spouses are discovering who we are, how we move, what’s important to us. All of this points to the opportunity to impact the world around us, an opportunity that is only fully realized when we acknowledge the truth of our responsibility.

At work, in the grocery stores, behind the wheel, at the gym, we are always on display. How do we speak to each other? What can the cashier at the Walmart learn about the Gospel from our marriages? From our interactions with our teenage sons & daughters? If love is patient, would someone feel loved after interacting with us? Would they feel inspired our gratitude or deflated by our sour, complaining hearts?

This is the definition of leadership, and probably we’ve closed our eyes to avoid it. Those days are over, they have to be. There’s a saying that goes, “Teach the Gospel at all times, and if necessary, use words.” We’re all teachers, illustrators, leaders, everybody is watching. I don’t always like the prompts, they often amplify a disappointingly stark difference in perspectives between the cultural and the spiritual. What we do matters to someone, so that makes it matter to everyone. Once we see this, our vision clears to possibility. And this is how it all starts…

2 Aching Muscles

On Friday, I pulled a muscle in my back. This, I suppose, isn’t the most surprising thing in the world. It happens. What’s embarrassing about it is that I did it while throwing frisbee. Or rather, disc golf. That sounds much cooler than “frisbee.” We’ve been playing quite a bit lately, and it was a pretty good time, until I felt like I got stabbed in my back and now it hurts to breathe too deeply or dead lift or get up or move quickly or walk around like a normal person. Sigh. So there’s that. I don’t know when I got this old. I used to be able to throw frisbees with no consequence. Sheesh, its just a frisbee.

If I take some ibuprofen, it’s not too bad. I bet nobody knew on Sunday morning or yesterday visiting family. Maybe they did, you know I can be very dramatic in my self-pity.

Today it’s better – I haven’t taken anything for pain yet today – but maybe that’s because there is another thing that is affecting an entirely different muscle in my aging body.

My youngest son just left for the first day of his senior year of high school. This has been only the first leg of the “lasts.” The last high school summer league in basketball. The last summer vacation of high school. The last first day.

There’s a meme (the wisdom literature of our time, our proverbs) that says something like “one day you’ll carry your child to bed and it’ll be the last time, and you won’t know it at the time.” And it can be anything. These 2 boys used to sleep on my chest. We walked them to school, drove them to practices, watched band concerts. I used to put them on my shoulders, or better yet, in a backpack for walks, like Yoda. If I sat them on my shoulders now, there would be many more than one muscle pulled. (My older boy is bigger than me in every way, maybe I should get on his shoulders to see now.)

As we all get older, we get the gift of knowing it’s the last. I knew the last time I’d coach each of them. I knew when I handed the championship trophy to this now-high school-senior and hugged him, that it would be the last time I would ever do that. That’s why I cried in front of everyone. We know today is his last first day of high school. We know the next first day of school, he won’t be living in this house. I cry a lot in front of everyone. (Today, though, with this pulled muscle in my back, it hurts A LOT to cry, more than usual.)

I talk a lot about a 2 hands theology. We are asked to hold the sadness – in this case, the sadness of the loss of my little boy – AND the celebration and joy – in this case, he’s a cooler, better person than I could have ever dreamed he’d be. Both of these boys are, and that is more wonderful than I can tell you. Except they’re not boys anymore, they’re men, and that hurts worse than I can tell you. My tears are a holy mixture of pain and joy.

That mixture has a name and is, simply, gratitude. More than anything that I can’t tell you is how thankful I am. My sister & I were talking, awestruck at these lives with which we have been blessed. This is certainly not to say they have been easy or without struggle or without times we doubted and there were times we might not have felt so grateful. But the thing about a 2 hands theology is that we have always been honest about those times, and the truth is, that’s probably why we’re so thankful today. We have been there for all of it.

I remember tearing their artwork from the walls of our old house as it went underwater, but I couldn’t get it all. And I prize what I took and mourn the loss of what I left behind. My aim has always been to live a fully present life, showing up to the pleasure, the wins, and the suffering, the losses. There have been so many of both, and I wouldn’t trade any of them.

So yes, I am celebrating with an ecstatic heart at this life I’ve been given and what I get to see and experience…and there is no amount of ibuprofen that can ease the hurt of what I get to see and experience. But the best thing is that there is no world where I’d want to.

Cookies

Sunday’s message ended with the wildly unreasonable command of Jesus to gouge out our eyes if they cause us to lust, to cut off our hands if they cause us to sin. Obviously, He couldn’t have actually meant that, right??? It’s this kind of passage, in the Sermon On The Mount, no less, that causes us such trouble and leads us down paths of discussion on hyperbole and exaggeration – which gives us a very nice, convenient out.

I’m reading Judges right now. (My practice is to read 2 passages, one from an Old Testament book and one from a New Testament book – the New Testament is Revelation. Just some light, easy reading. Ha!) In chapter 2, Israel does what Israel does – what we do – and is disobedient. Maybe it’s pretty subtle, but disobedience nonetheless. They have been told to “drive out” all the people in the Promised Land, and the chorus of the first chapter of Joshua is “____ failed to drive out the people living in _____” This refrain is in verses 19, 27, 29, 30, 31, and 33. Now, maybe they failed to drive out any of them or maybe just not all, but it’s still the same idea. They were given instructions and didn’t follow them.

In chapter 2, we are told Israel “abandoned the LORD… They chased after other gods, worshiping the gods of the people around them.” Now, why were the people around them? Because they didn’t drive them out. Because they didn’t do what God asked of them, commanded them.

If I keep cookies in the house, I’m going to eat them.

A solid trainer who knows me well will tell me to get them out of the house. Will tell me that I can’t be trusted (even if it hurts my feelings.) Will give me the tools to set myself up for success. Then, if I get rid of all but some or none of the cookies, I haven’t listened to him. And it might not be today or tomorrow, but I will eventually eat them.

The Canaanites are the cookies. gods like Baal and Ashtoreth and those ridiculous Asherah poles are just more cookies. And the Israelites are just like me, they can’t be trusted with cookies in the house.

So Jesus tells us, if the cookies cause you to stumble, if you’re going to eat those cookies, throw them out. If your computer causes you to stumble, throw it out. Maybe we can’t use our phones when we’re alone, maybe we need some controls. If our time alone with our boyfriends & girlfriends brings unbearable temptation, then maybe we don’t get alone time. Maybe we’re always outside or with others.

But we’re NOT children, we have enormous reserves of will power. We can stop any time we want. We can hold firm. We don’t have to eat the cookies. We are very strong and disciplined. And I’m 100% sure that’s true. This minute.

David could be on his roof – after all, it’s his roof. He could just not look at his neighbor Bathsheba (who, incidentally, is considered by whoever decides these sorts of things, one of the 5 most beautiful women to ever live. And whoever does decide probably has never seen the Angel, so maybe not top 5, but we get the point.) And I’m positive he did. For a while. Nobody takes the money from the drawer the first time they’re on the register. (I know, everybody says they do, says it’s the first time, but nobody believes that because it’s never true. And if it ever was, it’s such a small percentage that the exception proves the rule.)

I don’t have to eat the cookies today, maybe not even this week. But there will be a night I can’t sleep, or I’m sad, or disappointed, or just bored. Then, those cookies are in big trouble.

This hyperbole isn’t an out at all, it’s an illustration of how important it is. We’d rather not have hands than more cookies, and not have eyes than be that violently destructive to our own bodies, souls and spirits. If the off ramp is there, we’re going to take it. We’re going to settle for less, we’re going to forget that we’re children of the King, going to forget we’re made to fly.

And it’s really hard to fly while our arms are full of cookies.

Gifts

I usually like to write and post on a Monday or, at the latest, Tuesday. Today is Thursday. This week has been full. My heart is full, my head and my schedule are somewhat less full, but still enough to add a certain extra weight to the everyday.

First, the “everyday” reminds me of the AI quote from Sunday about the profane. Profane is defined as “Things that are not sacred, such as ordinary daily routines of life. Profane elements are secular, mundane, and practical, and are not considered to hold any spiritual significance.” I think that is a poor definition, because it implies that there are areas of life that don’t hold spiritual significance. It seems to me that part of our problem is that we believe that these areas exist, and therefore, and treat them as if they are meaningless. They lie outside of any greater consequence, and check out. We mindlessly step in the same footprints as yesterday and tomorrow and next Friday and last January.

So I believe that with all of my heart: there is no separation, and everything is spiritual, as long as we hold it with care and love.

Then, the homework was to open our eyes to the beauty of this life, to see all of this as a gift, the blessings, and look for spaces to be grateful. Notice these wonderful lives of ours.

And sometimes, I am invited to discover if these beliefs I say I hold are the ones I actually hold. Invited to do the homework myself. Asked the very difficult question of priority – when belief and faith come into conflict with convenience or my idea of what is supposed to be, then which side wins? Not only in my head or on paper, but in flesh and blood?

We all have this same invitation a ka-jillion times a day.

I make a weekly to-do list that I cross off (it is very satisfying to cross them off) as I complete each item. 2 of the items are “Bridge Post,” and “Love Post.” I write these posts on Monday or Tuesday. But Monday and Tuesday, I had homework and belief to practice. I don’t always get these pop quizzes right, often times I’ll serve my to-do list and treat other opportunities as things to get through to return to my list.

Thankfully, this week, I was (mostly) fully present to this gift I have been given, and I’m only writing this on a Thursday. Small steps make good lives, and sometimes they make lives so much better and deeper than you could have ever possibly imagined.

Dancing Lessons

I had every intention to write about 31’s & 32’s and/or the rest of Sunday’s message. There was no shortage of topics to further discuss, or pools in which to dive deeper and deeper. The more we study the Bible, the more there is to study, to practice, and the more our lives can (and will) transform. Not just our lives, I’ve been dreaming about how the world around us would transform with more 32’s alive and engaged. Anyway, like I said, that’s what I was going to write about, but instead, we’ll talk about dancing.

The Angel & I are taking dancing lessons. We’ve learned the foxtrot, rumba, and swing – and when I say we’ve learned them, I mean we’re learning the most basic steps. Level zero. Our instructor shows us the positions, the steps, the beats, the building blocks, explains why, and hints at all of the possibilities with the higher levels (higher than zero;). It’s super fun, we like each other, laugh a lot, and I always love the way the Angel moves.

I am the leader – I recognize this is quite old-fashioned and so-not-2024, to have a man lead, but that’s how it goes. I decide where we’re going and what we’re doing, if she’ll turn or not, and if she does, under which arm she’ll go. And she’s supposed to follow.

You can see that this might present a problem. If you have ever had the pleasure of spending any time with the Angel, you know she is a born leader, an alpha, and she is the leader in nearly all of the spaces of her life. She does not like to be led, often for very good reason. (It took many years of our marriage until she was comfortable enough to trust me in any significant capacity…also for very good reason.)

So we’re dancing and our instructor, Artur, is encouraging my leadership and her following where I lead. It’s the only way it works, there can’t be 2 leaders, and even if I don’t exactly know the steps, I will, and it’s impossible for either of us to learn the dance without the basic structure intact. This week, he said to her, “You are not following, you are anticipating. You are going where you want to go, or where you think you should go. And when you do that, he cannot lead you.”

I became a much worse rumba leader, because that lesson was teaching much more than dancing, and my mind started to wander. I thought of my relationship with Jesus, and how He is the leader, only I fight Him because I think I know where we should go, what we’re supposed to do, I know what the steps are, not Him, and I’m actually trying to force Him to follow me. Right?!!!?? We’re dancing this life He’s given me, and instead of smooth graceful sweeping purposeful movements, it’s a power struggle. Well, it’s probably honestly not much of a struggle, if I need to drive this car into a ditch, He’ll probably let me. (Like that parable of the unforgiving debtor, the King forgives, but when the forgiven won’t, He says, ok, if that’s really what you want, I guess we’ll do it by your rules.) So our dance doesn’t look beautiful, it’s wooden, clumsy, and dis-jointed. It’s visual noise, and looks like neither of us know what’s going on and neither of us can hear the music.

These dancing lessons are great, we’re having a terrific time, and I’m wondering how my life would look and feel if I just stop fighting the flow and let Him finally lead.

Context

Sunday mornings are always interesting, for all of us. We wake up in certain ways. Saturday nights are interesting. The week before, the week ahead, how we slept, we sometimes have sore throats or coughs or allergic reactions. Maybe we had a fight with our husband, youngest child, or the washing machine is broken again. Work has been too heavy…or too light. Bills are due, and how are we going to make that work??? And now, by some miracle, we got up and left the house and came to this place, and what do we do with our hearts, our minds, our stubbed toes and too-tight pants?

I wonder if these people will notice? Do they have it all together, with their hugs and combed hair, or do they feel like me, too? When the singing starts, some put their hands up, some sing sooo loud, some just move their mouths, some don’t at all, and I just feel like crying. They call it worship…what is that? What exactly does it mean to worship?

And now the sermon? Everywhere else it’s a lecture or a talk, a teaching, but here, it’s a sermon. Is that cool, or is it weird? We’ll read parts of the Bible, and what if I can’t hear because I can’t pay attention? I just stare out the window or look at the pages, what does that say? I probably should have just stayed home…

This story, I’ve heard a million times. I know it, and this person talking, they know it, why are we still talking about it? I wonder what’s for lunch, or if we’re still fighting. Why are churches the only places where you can find pew-style seating? If they were so comfortable, wouldn’t they have caught on elsewhere? Maybe they haven’t because we have to step over each other to get in and out. Who knows? This place.

More music. Maybe I can leave now, before anyone talks to me? Is that what I want? Maybe not, maybe it would be cool to talk to someone, maybe I could tell them, maybe I wouldn’t feel so alone? But maybe they’d judge, maybe they’d raise their eyebrows and I’d know, right away, what a terrible idea it was to open, even a crack. Maybe I’d feel even more alone than I do right now? Is that even possible?

Now we are holding hands and praying. Does God hear, is he listening to the voice of a person in a small church in a small town? Do you know there are 1 million churches in this small town, I bet there are more churches than people. Why so many? Why do we pray? Is it so God changes His mind and decides to fix this, help me pay my bills, turn the doctor’s positive result negative? If He could, and if He loved me, why wouldn’t He just do that? And if He didn’t, why would my asking change anything? I thought He knew everything, knows what I want, what I need. Does He love me?

Why am I here?

So we leave, and on the way, someone looks at us, holds our hand, tells us they know, and they really do. Or they don’t, and we slip out before anyone can see the chaos in our hearts.

So, what is worship? I know now. It’s this. All of it. Showing up, as we are, thoroughly broken or euphoric (and everywhere in between) and asking allll of the questions. Pretending isn’t worship, it’s hypocrisy, and it has no place in a church. We bring the pieces of our lives and lay them at His feet – some of them are flawless in their beauty, and some are broken beyond ever being repaired, but in the loving hands of Jesus, and the Church He’s created, they are all gorgeous.

(…and, for the record, we never should have just stayed home;)

Hit King

I watched a documentary called Charlie Hustle and the Matter of Pete Rose on Max, about baseball, gambling, justice, and punishment, all in the context of Pete Rose. He was a great baseball player in the 60’s, 70’s & 80’s, winning league and world series MVPs, and finally ending with more hits than anyone else in the history of baseball. Even with that gaudy resume, he is not in the Hall of Fame, because he was exiled from the sport for gambling on baseball games, including his own team’s games. Everyone has an opinion on this situation, everyone has an opinion on Pete Rose. Mine is that it’s pretty impossible to tell the story of baseball (which IS the purpose of the Hall of Fame museum, as far as I can tell) without Pete Rose. My opinion of the second is that Pete Rose is one of the most unlikeable athletes/celebrities that has ever existed. He has no interest in pretending to be kind or affable, he is a pathological liar, aggressively arrogant and takes great pride in being a jerk. (Of course, I don’t actually know him personally, so I hold these opinions loosely.) I spent the majority of the early part of my life loving everything baseball, and I never could manage to be a Pete Rose guy.

My opinion on some ballplayer is not important. But what I found very interesting about this documentary is the comments of Chad Lowe, C-list celebrity brother of A-list celebrity Rob Lowe, and unabashed Pete Rose guy, “Pete Rose won’t change, so maybe we need to change.” His argument is that Pete Rose is Pete Rose and doesn’t care about your standards or rules, he won’t bend to meet them, so since he doesn’t & won’t, the standards and rules must bend to him.

We’re studying Ephesians now, and happen to be in a section on righteousness. The passage is entirely about heart posture as it is displayed in our actions. This is what I used to call the endless “shall’s & shall not’s of the Bible.” What we do does matter (in relationships with God, others, and ourselves), so these are the things to do and not do.

Chad Lowe might say that, since we don’t (or won’t) always do them, what’s the difference? Let’s just change the lists. Lowe isn’t alone, many churches agree. Nobody drives the speed limit, so let’s raise it. They’re going to do it anyway, so why do we even try to stop them?

Rose was suspended for betting on games, because we were still pretending that we were horrified by gambling back then. But once the money started to find it’s way into the right pockets, those pockets agreed with Chad Lowe. “Everybody is doing it, they’re not going to change, so we have to change.”

But integrity & character are integrity & character, and we’d all probably be in quite the mess if we just erase all of those lines because we want to, or because some don’t care about integrity & character.

Maybe Chad Lowe is right about the Hall of Fame and Major League Baseball. Maybe it is the right position to take in a democratic society, especially one where the national religion is sports.

The first thing we are told to “put off” in Ephesians is falsehood, and it’s easy to see why. Yet we still deceive and spin any kind of fiction to avoid uncomfortability. Do we decide the Bible is outdated and excise those passages that deal with the danger of dishonesty? How about selfishness? Or gossip? Just because we do it doesn’t mean it’s ok. And if we don’t do it, does that make it optional? Chad Lowe is talking about relativism and popularity, but are sliding scales really what we want? It’s possible that we’re all really looking for solid ground, consistency, stability. Again, this has little to do with the Hall of Fame, but in real life, I’m not sure the answer is to keep moving, or lowering, the bar. What happens when it’s already lying on the ground and can’t go down any further?

One more thing. Chad Lowe loves Pete Rose, has idolized him since he was a small child, but his comments show a sad reality. Lowe has decided that Rose is incapable of anything more, that his lack of character is, and will always be. He says Rose is this person, we’ve given up hope for growth or any evolution of his character. It looks like acceptance, but instead, is an awfully offensive judgment to make.

Ephesians makes the divine assumption that we have been created in the image of a loving, almighty, beautiful, creative God. We’ve just lost our way, and our souls long to come home and live up to our calling, if only we knew the way. The creative part of our God, and of us, gives the imagination to dream something new, and the chance to live it with Him, together.

Inbetweeners

One of my least favorite parts of coaching baseball were game days with a threat of rain. Maybe it would drizzle. Maybe it wouldn’t. Maybe the radar shows lots of activity right about the time we are scheduled to get to the field. Maybe it shows it at game time. I would check the hourly weather every 10 minutes, then check the hourly weather on all of the other sites, I’d call the other coaches to see what they thought, then I’d call them again, then I’d call my wife and grumble that it should either rain or not. I never liked the in between. I wanted God to make it easy for me, sunshine or pouring rain. Actually, that’s not true, I can’t say “easy,” because so many of our choices and the consequences aren’t easy, but I wanted to know the path to take. Even if it wasn’t the path I wanted, I wanted to know it was the path I was supposed to take.

Um, “supposed to?” Who decides what’s supposed to happen? Who we’re supposed to be? How it’s supposed to go? Is there ever a path we’re supposed to take? … Anyway.

We are in the midst of a building decision. I presented the paths several months ago and we’ve been praying ever since. The last 2 weeks, we began sharing our thoughts, answers, prompts. I hoped we’d all have the same conclusion. I hoped it would rain or not.

Of course, it was drizzly with colors possible on the future radar. 47% chance, which means it might rain. And it might not. Now, we’ve lived long enough, and if we’ve been even half-awake, we’ve experienced 0’s & 100’s that didn’t pan out. We don’t hold anything to be, as my son says, a “for sure-ski.” But we do like black and white, gray is uncomfortable. Gray also invites the Second Guessers, who are laying in giddy breathless anticipation to tell us we’re wrong and how could we possibly have made that decision???

So, is it going to rain or not? Then, we’re super spiritual and say, “if God is in it, we’ll know.” But is that really true? Probably not if we read and believe the Bible. When the Israelites were preparing to cross into the Promised Land, they were faced with a Jordan River at flood stage. The raging water could have been interpreted as God not being in it, right? If He was, He would certainly make it a shallow slow trickle, right? But instead, they were to send the priests with the Ark of the Covenant into the water. Do you think there was a chance they wondered if they misheard? Is that really what He said? Maybe He said “wait, and then send the priests in,” or maybe we were late to listen and He said “DON’T send the priests with the Ark into the water.”

Jesus got out of a boat in a storm and asked Peter to get out with Him. Maybe He’d save him. I wonder if Peter thought, John the Baptizer followed Jesus into the unknown and it ended…well, it didn’t end awesome for him. What if He’s going to say, again, “Blessed are those that don’t fall away because of Me,” after I drown?

We don’t usually get assurance for the next step. That’s what faith is, the “substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Hebrews 11:1)” The Israelites didn’t know what the Jordan would do or how they’d cross – they hoped. But they didn’t know.

And add to that complexity and confusion, sometimes faith means to go and sometimes faith means to not go. Sometimes, we have a choice between 2 good paths. Do we follow the Law and leave our donkey in the hole or cross the street to avoid a dead/dying man, or do we get the donkey out and rescue the man and put him up at a nearby inn? All of those are good, they are all the right answers. Now what? And then, sometimes we do the right thing and it doesn’t turn out very great. Does that make it not the right thing, do the ends define the means?

We are inbetweeners. Maybe it will rain and maybe it won’t. Maybe we will grab our donkey, and maybe we’ll send the priests into the Jordan, but what I can say is that we probably won’t know if it’s the ‘right’ thing. Maybe there isn’t such a thing as one ‘right’ thing.

Maybe the point of all of this is a relationship WITH Our Creator, and if we hold His hand, trust Him with us and with the gifts He’s given, put (and keep) Him first, then every choice is the ‘right’ choice. And if we don’t, then none are. I guess we’ll see. Unless we don’t. Ha. I like this last choice, this last “maybe,” the one that doesn’t have us choosing a building or now, but instead, has us choosing only to be WITH Him. Yes, that’s the one, where we’re with Him in the gray, if it rains or not.

Where I Was Wrong

Yesterday, we discussed John’s 1st letter, chapter 1, verse 6, which reads, “If we claim to have fellowship with him and yet walk in the darkness, we lie and do not live out the truth.” AND I wrote a post last week about where we spend our time, money, energy, (who the AI on our phones says we are) and if those spaces are consistent with what we say we believe is important. If it’s not, John says we are liars.

If I say Morrissey is my favorite artist (he is), but listen to The Beatles every day, far more often than I listen to Morrissey, am I lying when I say Morrissey? Maybe. John says yes.

So, the question is, do I have to change the way I behave to have fellowship with Him? Essentially, are there things I have to do?

Then, after the service, a man gave me his thoughts. He said, “You have to change your life, you have to be different.” Really? Have to?

Are there things we have to do to have fellowship with Him? I now think it’s a bit more complex than that.

Paul will occasionally address, in his letters, the belief some held that, if we are saved by grace, if our salvation is truly by/through His grace alone, then we can (and will) do anything we want. This is true. (Maybe not the “and will” parenthetical.) It’s also a distortion. He writes those letters to people like me.

This is what I taught often in the early days of my ministry. I wanted, I needed, to settle any doubts of whether we are loved, what unconditional means, and how big His grace is. I’d say, “Does that mean we can do anything we want? Yes.” I followed that up with “…but what we want changes.” The emphasis was clearly on the “Yes,” and not the “…but.” And, perhaps not surprisingly, my ministry was not as effective as it could, or should, have been. I was limiting, or cheapening, the Gospel.

There is an idea of cheap grace. If you owe 50 cents, and I don’t make you pay it back, that’s nice. If you owe 50 billion dollars, and I don’t make you pay that back, then that’s much more than nice. The debt I pay for you is humongous. The forgiveness of something so large is life-changing. Where I was wrong is that by de-emphasizing the debt, I also de-emphasized the forgiveness. I minimized the gift. It doesn’t change the answer, it is still His grace alone, but it does certainly alter each of the moments that follow.

If it isn’t life-changing, like the $50,000,000,000, maybe we simply don’t know it’s 50 billion dollars, or we don’t have any concept of how big an amount that is. There are some very cool demonstrations on the relative size of a billion on YouTube – maybe we need to watch one.

Do we have to be different? We just are. Maybe we don’t have to, but maybe that’s because we stop using terms like that. Maybe we just don’t understand any longer why it would be a have to at all.

I used to avoid the word ‘sin,’ at all costs. I don’t anymore. Now, it’s the vehicle to adequately frame His forgiveness. It’s not attached to shame or judgment, instead, it’s the best way to illustrate His sacrifice. The want does change, and if it doesn’t, then maybe we don’t know what 50 billion dollars is.

When we understand the size of the gift, there’s a certain gratitude and shift in perspective that goes along with that and radically transforms our minds & lives. But even then, there will still be times we come to a fork in the road, hear a voice of temptation in our ears, and have to choose whether to “walk in darkness.” And I’m pretty sure, in those cases, it’ll help to think about those 50 billion reasons to follow the one that leads to the light.

The Hours

I was reading an article this morning about food, exercise, and how we spend the hours of our days & weeks. And it has me thinking about things other than food and exercise, but still how we spend the hours of our days & weeks.

Often times, we try to out-train a bad diet (and when I say “we,” I mean “me,” but my guess is I don’t just mean me.) For instance, let’s say we are on a diet that allows 2,000 calories. Saturday, we go out to dinner and have an extra piece of pizza and dessert, and end up with 2,800 calories for the day. That’s ok, because we figure we’ll just go to the gym and get on the elliptical machine to work it off. For a 200 lb man to burn those 800 calories, it would take upwards of an hour of haaard work. Or we could’ve not eaten the dessert.

Do you have an hour to spend doing cardio penance? Probably not. We have lives, we’re loving people. But I do go to the gym, and that must count for a lot. The fact that socked me in the stomach was this: if we spend an hour a day, that is less than 5% of our day. Most of us go 3-5 times/week, which is 1.7-2.9% of our weeks. That is shocking, right? Do we think of it like that? I go 6 times/week, and that’s so much, but it’s only 3.6% of my whole week!!! The rest of the time – the other 162 hours – is a much more significant picture of my total fitness. I could be eating well, parking further away from stores or work, taking after-dinner walks, yoga, I could be doing lots of things. 3.6% is really surprising and, honestly, disappointing, isn’t it?

Church will be 1 hour on Sunday (if we can make it this week). 0.5%.

This is obviously not to add any guilt. We certainly don’t need any more of that, too many of us already carry the “not enough” mindset into spiritual matters. What it is is what my very good friend calls “black coffee.” Church isn’t the only way we commune with God. So, do we read our Bibles and/or pray an hour/day? Think about our percentages caring for our relationships with Our Creator. If we spent 3% caring for our children or our spouses, do you think you’d be particularly close? I watched a documentary today on Christianity in America that was an hour and a half. I spent more of my day watching TV than I did working out, yet I’d define myself more as a Man Who Goes To The Gym than Man Who Watches TV. But what does the AI on my phone say I am? That I am a Man Who Loves? (The Machines don’t care what I say or think I am, only where I am and what I do.) We are far more than our AI would ever know, we’re more than just percentages or location pings, but percentages, location pings, checkbooks, and screen times are undeniable factors in the mosaic that is our identity.

I am often struck by these types of stories, that lead down paths of examination and introspection. Everything is connected and asks it’s own questions. And as a general rule, when answering the BIG question, “Who am I?” it’s important to start with some black coffee, even if it burns going down.