Audios

Wings

One day last week, at a college basketball game, the Angel and I watched our boy play. He played very well; unselfish, aggressive and with an intensity that may have been surprising if you had not watched his commitment over the past several years, alone in the gym, in the driveway, or outside on the local courts before the sun came up. This was awesome, but it was not the best part of our evening. We were also relayed stories of how he is fitting in, as a great teammate, and an “even better human.” Then, after the game, we walked to our car with him, his girlfriend, and his best friend. Once we were on the road (following a really terrible route from the GPS), I texted how beautiful I thought this circle of friends was, that he’s creating….How beautiful this life was, that he’s creating.

The next day, the Angel and I attended our older son’s workshop for a family dinner party. We sat, barely getting time to eat, as we were flooded with stories of who our boy is. He’s kind, respectful, funny, strong, and sweet. When we got home, I told him how proud of him I was, about this man he’s becoming, this life that he is creating.

You see, he has always been this person. He has always been kind, respectful, funny, strong and sweet. He’s one of the best I’ve ever had the privilege to know, how much more to live with him and watch him every day. My prayer has always been that he fully step into who he is, every part of himself, authentically, and let that out, just open himself and get it all over everyone. It has been my prayer for his brother, too.

The boys we know so well have not always been public. To use a phrase from the Bible, they have sometimes hidden their blinding light under hesitant buckets. We want the world to experience the blessings we have.

It’s hard, probably impossible, to fathom Who God is – His patience, forgiveness, grace, and love. Sometimes, all we have is our own experience. And this is sort of how I imagine God feels, when we put on our authentic selves and start to become all of who He has created us to be.

My boys are different, sometimes wildly so, in their personalities, desires, ambitions, talents and gifts. Who they are growing into are not clones of each other, there aren’t molds they comfortably fit. It’s like that with us, too. You are not me. We are not carbon copies of anyone else. (We are all equal, in Him. He loves us all the same, as sons and daughters. But loving us the same is not the same as making us the same.) I love Morrissey and Fight Club, and you love… well, that’s a bad example, we all love Morrissey and Fight Club, but you get the point. The Angel likes hikes and I like to lift weights, she likes mashed potatoes and I like anything but mashed potatoes. None of us are alike, and that is absolutely the design. We are all the way we are, for a purpose.

And when we start to step into that purpose, to take these new wings that we’ve always had out for a test flight, I think Our Creator rejoices. I think He says, “YES, finally!! Wait until this world gets a taste of (Cathy or Diane or Trish or Josh or whoever, anyone, everyone)!” It’s like He’s painted a masterpiece and just can’t wait for us to remove the curtain, so that everybody can see it.

In this scenario I imagine, you are the masterpiece. So am I, and so is your neighbor and your enemy.

Of course, it’s a flawed analogy. God is not like us. He’s waaaayyyy better, better than we could possibly dream, by miles and miles, by infinity. He is the One that gave us these wings, He wants us to use them. Sometimes, we don’t. Sometimes, we hide. Sometimes, we pretend to be someone else. Sometimes, we don’t know who we are, we don’t know we have these magnificent wings.

And, in my limited human perspective, I imagine that when he sees us find them and stretch them out, it’s a lot like how I felt last week.

Do I?

I behaved abysmally this morning. Now, what exactly happened isn’t important, but that it happened is. Poor behavior mostly all comes from the same place, and I am no different. I read a book that suggested that those times when we get ourselves into trouble stem from a clever acronym of emotional states: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, And T (I don’t remember what the T stands for…Tired!! That’s it!). HALT: Hungry, Angry, Lonely, Tired. I am currently a combination of all of those, and the book used its clever acronym to ask us to halt, instead of making a mess. I did not halt; I made a mess.

[I hesitate to write this post, because it’s very possible to read these posts and miss the meaning. I am not fishing for encouragement, do not need cheering up. This is different from reading a post written by someone you don’t know personally. You are beautiful, you deeply care for me, and may feel concern. I am ok. I would reach out, if that were not the case. This is not simply an overshare, I do have a specific reason for writing, and oversharing just provides the context;) You’ll see why I am ok, at the very end. Now.]

I do not behave abysmally very often, anymore. Honestly, this morning was wildly out of character, surprising me and the other involved parties. It is not a lifestyle, I didn’t recognize myself at all. It was an embarrassing momentary catastrophe, and will have virtually no long-them effects (except in my own head & heart).

That’s not an excuse – I have no excuses, and don’t need any. But it is important, because how we respond to ourselves and our actions depends on if it is a sin, or a lifestyle of sin. Did we fall in a hole, or are we choosing to jump in that hole and live there? I fell. Now what?

Sometimes, we encounter mirrors that contain an important question about our beliefs and values. We say we believe these things, do we really? Do I?

If you were to relay the same story to me, if our roles were completely reversed, I would tell you how loved you are. I would not judge, I would acknowledge the punishment you had already inflicted on yourself, recognize your contrite repentance, immediately forgive, and encourage you to give you a break and move forward. I would do all of these things, because I whole-heartedly believe Romans 8, that there’s no condemnation in Christ Jesus, that God takes our sins as far as the east is from the west, and remembers them no more. I think He accepts our repentance with joy, seeing growth and a heart that wants to beat for Him (even if it sometimes can’t help to beat for itself, with disastrous consequences.) And I think He asks us to love each other in the same way. I would recognize the roots (the HALT situation) and try to address those, together.

I believe those same truths apply to me, too. That is my theology. And when I come upon this mirror of conviction that asks if my theology is my application, is my practice, I wonder what my answer is. Do I? And do I so much that I would continue to work to undo an entire lifetime whipping myself with my self-loathing. When faced with cracks in my character, can I have grace for me, too? Are they actually cracks, at all? Can I move forward as a new creation, forgiven from my human fragility, and made holy, in Him?

The mess I made took about 5 minutes, beginning to end, but it only took 3 seconds to be sorry about it. Right at the start. The rest of the 5 minutes was an apology and explanation, an attempt to halt, call timeout and come back in to shore, back home.

The lie says that the mess is me, and the rest of my whole life is the illusion, a construct that was bound to fall at some point, that I could only fake for so long, and the real me would eventually emerge. The truth is that these holes we all fall in, from time to time, do not change our identity. I am not perfect, I was never supposed to be. I am a work in progress, He is transforming me every moment, every day.

It’s sometime an attack to our ego to admit that we are still becoming, that we have not arrived, that we don’t have it all perfectly together. But, attack or not, it’s true. So now what? What do we do?

I knew what I would do, and as I ran to Him by opening my Bible, I read a short line on Hezekiah in the book of Isaiah. A foreign power threatened him and his people, and he was afraid. (That was the lie he heard, all lies aren’t the same for each of us, not even the same for ourselves, at different times.) He freaked out, and immediately ran into the Temple in prayer. Me, too. I freaked out, and ran right into His arms, hoping He’d be merciful and tell me the Truth, about this, about me, and in that, most importantly, about Himself. I found just what Hezekiah did, that He is very willing to do that, over and over again.

I guess I’m not supposed to tell you any of this, I’m supposed to carefully cultivate a bulletproof image. Of course, I don’t struggle, don’t fall in any holes, am never hungry, angry, lonely, or tired. But what I could never get through my thick head is that, if I pretend to actually be that ridiculously dishonest image, I am saying it’s just you. I would be building false walls and blasphemous hierarchies.

We are all on this journey, to Him, WITH Him. Of course, we’re at different places. Someone is always further along. We’re just walking each other home. And I think we all have these holes, questions, and mirrors. It’s what we do when we face them that matters, that shows where our faith is, and if what we say is really what we believe. Probably, living a life of faith is just a series of steps closer to answering that question with a “yes.”

New Words

I wrote a book called Be Very Careful Who You Marry (The other one I have written, so far, is Chronicles, Nehemiah, and Other Books Nobody Reads. I love that title, but I like Be Very Careful Who You Marry even more, mostly because my dad unknowingly titled that one 40ish years before I wrote it. I think he’d be very, very proud how careful I was; like him, I married well out of my league. Anyway.) and in it, I included several words that created the foundation for a marriage, the fabric of our Bridge community and my life. These are words like Intention, Attention, Respect, and Communication.

Last week, I think I added 3 more. This was not actually my intention, but as I gave the message, they felt vital, and since then, as I consider them, they gain even more weight.

We discussed the Grace we have been extended, and that we extend to each other. The Grace that recognizes that we are made in the image of God, and covered with the love of God, a love so great that it would lead Him to the cross. If those are all true, how could we not give it to each other??? How could we look down or dismiss those whom He has made? How could we speak such venomous words to anyone, when He says, “when you did it for/to them, you did it to me?” (That’s a paraphrase, but you can read the actual passage in Matthew 25.) Grace doesn’t recognize “them,” only “us,” because in Christ, their is no “them.” Grace sees us all as His, and behaves as if we all have the honor that comes from being children of The King.

Then, well, it’s not just one word, it’s more of an idea, but we can call it Perspective. There is a BIG story we’re in, not just here, now, to us. It is His story and it extends forever in all directions. Have you ever heard that helpful question, “will it matter in 5 minutes, 5 days, 5 years?” It helps us put this moment, which we so easily elevate into massive proportions, into perspective. How about adding, “will it matter in/for eternity??” Maybe the record of the 2025 Dallas Cowboys won’t, right? Then maybe it shouldn’t matter quite so much to us.

This is a fascinating paradox, because, taken with the first one (Grace)… Yes, it is His Story and not ours. Yes, the time line is infinity and not measured in days and months. Yes, the Dallas Cowboys record isn’t of eternal significance. BUT. This God loves us so much, loves His creation so much, that all of it matters. Everything that matters to us matters to Him, so it actually elevates the value of each moment. His love turns the tiniest blink sacred & holy. Cool, right?

The last one is Gratitude. I’m listening to a song by Briston Maroney, called “Paradise,” and it is soooo good, loudly singing along while I’m wiggling in my chair, eating an Asian pear. This house, this chair. Tonight, I’ll eat cheeseburgers with my wife and oldest son, then we’ll probably watch the new Jurassic Park movie. What could possibly be better than any of this? Now, a song called “Better Than Love,” by Hayley Kiyoko. The hook is, “Somebody tell me, what’s better than love?” This Hayley is so right, what could ever be better than love? Yet we forget so often, don’t we? These miracles go unnoticed because we are sleeping through our lives. Everything is a gift. And if everything is a gift, if we don’t deserve anything, if nothing is ours, then we can simply say “Thanks” and be content with whatever it is that we are able to hold, for however long we get to hold it. We could even share it, or give it away.

How could we transform our lives, families, neighborhoods, countries, our world, if we truly adopted these principles, and took them out into every day, every relationship, every policy, every procedure? It’s staggering to imagine. We’d eliminate envy, worry, the headache of having to remember each offense and keep score. We’d be able to stop trying to get even, or to get more. Our words could create a brand new reality. We’d be present and aware. Kisses and hugs would take on new meaning, we could begin to listen, we would show up. I really, really love to dream about these kinds of things, the transformation of the entire world that begins with 2 people giving each other our undivided attention, remembering that they are made in His image, that this day & this breath are wonders, that we are loved and have nothing to do but stop running and receive it. Remembering that we get to love each other, too.

And, honestly, what’s better than love?

Maybe The AI Is Reading My Mind

The app that hosts our website is called Jetpack, and every day, it gives a writing prompt. Apparently, in the virtual world, more (posting, words, videos, content, clicks, advertisements, etc) is always preferable. Sometimes, that’s true, but as I post once/week, I am probably not their ideal client. Today’s prompt is, “Do you need time?”

I only discovered this prompt when I opened my computer to write, and it’s often surprising how well these prompts connect to my intention. (Now that I think about it, I wonder if the prompt is universal, the same for every Jetpack creator, or if it’s uniquely generated for each user. Maybe its not a beautiful coincidence at all. Maybe it’s the AI reading my mind, or at least using my previous data in an algorithm to know what I’m thinking even before I do… Scary, but let’s move on anyway, we can talk about The Machines taking over another time.)

I meant to write about a mass email I got this week. It addressed the question, “Does AI make us dumber?” (Maybe we’re talking about The Machines now, after all.) And Mark Manson’s conclusion was, “What’s happening is the same thing that happens with every new revolutionary piece of technology – we stop exercising some mental muscles because the tool makes that particular task easier (citing miracles like GPS, calculators, and the internet)…The question isn’t: “Will AI ruin our brains?” The real question is: “What thinking do we still need to protect – and what are we better off outsourcing?””

Now, this is a topic we discuss a lot. What do we keep, what do we leave behind, and what is the cost of leaving those things behind? Where are we spending our time, and is that where we want to be spending our time? Are those answers in line with our values? Do we really need more time, or have we just mindlessly allowed the time we have to be sucked by the leeches we ignored? What thinking do we need to protect?

Last night, we had a dual in-person/virtual teaching at the church and online, and it reminded me of the Manson email. Before COVID, we (as a church and as a culture) had very few options for online connection, now we do, and what happened was that, before we knew it, we had allowed the technology to direct our lives, the tail began to wag the dog, and we replaced a life lived IRL with screens and message boards.

Last night was very cool, as a supplement. We integrate lots of ways to stay in touch, but the actual in-person community needs to be protected, it simply cannot be left behind. Just because we can, doesn’t mean we should. Jeff Goldblum’s character in Jurassic Park says, “Your scientists were so preoccupied with whether or not they could, they didn’t stop to think if they should.”

My brother in law has been using an AI tool to turn his poetry into songs that sound like they could be on the radio today. It’s amazing. He asks it to, and it does. And it’s also not difficult to make the leap to what this could mean to the music industry, to the work of real humans playing real instruments. The truth of that creative expression desperately needs to be protected.

Facebook is such a wonderful space to follow people, groups and companies that are interesting to us AND it is a breeding ground for abysmally inhuman behavior. We have to constantly decide what kind of Facebook we want, what needs to be protected, and what needs to be relegated to the trash heap of history, tradition and/or pseudo-progress. Yes, we can, but now what? Will we?

My point is, maybe we will, maybe we should, but we have to be making those decisions. In every area of our lives.

I was watching a People’s Court case while I ate my breakfast today, and a woman was asked why she wasn’t paying her rent. I fully expected a shoulder shrug, and mumbled, “I don’t know,” but instead, she answered, “I had other bills I decided to pay first.” Maybe it was a bad decision, but it was totally hers. Her life wasn’t happening to her, she was living her life (at least this part of it) on purpose. And that’s really the opportunity for us, isn’t it? We’ve been given these lives by our Creator, now what? Will we simply squander our days, jobs, relationships, sleepwalking through the moments, dreaming of “more time,” or finally live the time we already have with purpose and intention? The choice is ours.

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.