A Stupid T-Shirt?!

I read this article last week, and was, quite frankly, shocked at how I related to it. I know God wants me to live a life that is marked by Joy, and yet, I feel like Emily some times (no, not an altar-ego…read below! J) Let me know what you think…


Walking through the front door of a church building [for the first time] was like passing through a portal to a different world. So much was unfamiliar. For the first time I heard about "propitiation," "puppet ministry" and "potluck suppers." I stood for "fellowship," knelt for prayer and sat on a hard wooden bench (which they called a "pew"). I saw more polyester in one morning than I had my entire life. I experienced church snack time, which consisted of little pieces of cracker and small plastic shot glasses of grape juice. A man explained that we would be singing hymns 11, 52, 17 and 63. I almost yelled out, "Bingo!"

But it's now 17 years later. I've gotten married. I have two kids. I've gained a few pounds. And I've gone from having never walked into a church to having 17 years' worth of Sundays in church buildings. And with all that experience (not to mention the few extra pounds) under my belt, I can tell you that there is something very familiar about most of the Christians I've met. Unfortunately, it's not that they remind me of the people who populate the pages of Scripture. Instead, they remind me of a little girl named Emily.

Little Emily looks cute in her souvenir shirt that proclaims, "My parents went to Florida and all I got was this lousy T-shirt." But there's something sad about it too. She missed the journey. She didn't get to take part in the adventure. While others broke out of their dull routine, Emily missed the excitement of doing something different. She didn't get to play in the waves or hug Mickey. She didn't get to experience the joy. Even the horrifying incident when the tire blew out and Stan, the self-proclaimed "Good Samaritan Redneck," rescued the family in his Sanford and Son pickup truck has quickly become a fond memory for everybody. Everyone except Emily. She missed the journey.

As I've gone to church and met Christians and lived as one myself, I've realized something.

We are Emily.

When I read about the lives of the first Christians in the pages of the New Testament I see people who actually went "on vacation to Florida," who truly experienced the ups and downs of the trip. But when I look around at Christians today, I see people who just wear a T-shirt for an adventure they've missed out on. We're missing the journey. We're stuck in the same dull routine. We're missing out on the joy and fear and laughter and doubt and mystery and confusion of following Jesus, of taking great risks for God, of praying dangerous prayers, even of being spiritually attacked.

We wander around with lifeless shark eyes.
The more honest among us find ourselves asking questions like: Is this all there is? Is this really what Jesus meant when He said, "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full"? Is this the life Jesus died for me to have? Didn't Jesus pay too high a price to buy me this life? Am I just supposed to be miserable until I get to heaven?

I think the word that best describes how many feel about their Christian lives is not abundant, joyful or purpose-driven, but disappointing.

And when I met Christians for the first time as a sophomore in college, I was disappointed. I was disappointed at their disappointment. And I swore I would never be like that.
But I have to be honest. Over the years I have, at times, descended into the world of the "T-shirt wearers." I have found myself going through the motions. I've lost my purpose and passion for so long at times, I had to put them on the back of a milk carton. In honest moments I've asked those same despairing questions. I've been disappointed.

And I've wondered if maybe God is the problem. I mean, He does want everyone to say yes to His offer. And if someone is trying to sell me a new car, vacuum cleaner or cell phone, I don't expect them to be completely honest. They'll exaggerate the benefits, ignore the problems. It may still be a great car, vacuum or phone, but I'm not getting the whole truth, and I know it.
Maybe God is like that.

The benefits He claims to give to those who say yes to Him include abundant life, pure joy in the face of trials, peace that surpasses understanding, power to heal the sick with our prayers, assurance that we will never be tempted in a way we can't handle, fearlessness and the promise that we will do greater things than Jesus did.

How many Christians would say these things are a good description of their lives? More personally, does it describe yours?

So maybe God is the problem. Perhaps He's just a master salesman. After all, he's good at everything else. But I don't think so. Actually, I think we're the problem. And I think there's a solution. I think we need to go on vacation.

I love vacation. And, when I'm really living it, I love the Christian life. It's helped me to approach my days with a sense of anticipation, and it's allowed me to break out of my routines and experience adventure.

But, like a vacation, following Jesus is not a perfect life of nonstop thrills. There are some boring and bad parts. But still there's something different about them, simply because I'm following Jesus.

So why are so many Christians disappointed? Is it possible that we, like Emily, are missing out on the journey? Is Jesus calling us to live life with authentic spiritual passion, but we're just wearing the T-shirt, practicing a souvenir religion?

Jesus asks people to follow Him. He's going somewhere, and He wants us to go with Him. He promises that those who follow will experience life fully alive.

Here's the best I can figure. The life God authored for us and offers to us, is this:
To live life with Jesus, and to live the Jesus life.
To live life with Jesus is about the inward life. It's me experiencing the presence of Jesus. It's soaking in all of Him that's out there. It's God impressing Himself on me. It's God changing me.

To live the Jesus life is about the outward life. It's me being the presence of Jesus. It's releasing out all of Him that's in here. It's God expressing Himself through me. It's God changing the world with me.

Since moving to Virginia Beach, I've developed allergies. Recently my wife bought a humidifier for our bedroom. Each morning I have to fill the thing up with water, and the rest of the day it releases that water into the air. I've learned that the humidifier can be turned on and running hard, but it accomplishes absolutely nothing if it's not filled with water.
The Christian life is something like that humidifier. I admit it's a simple analogy, but it helps convey the give-and-take there is in following Jesus. Repeatedly I need to be filled up with Jesus (which happens as I live life with Jesus), and then I need to continuously release Jesus (which happens as I live the Jesus life). I release Jesus because my purpose is to serve others, to touch them with God's love. But I can only do that if I'm filled with Jesus. Otherwise I can run hard, but I won't accomplish anything.

We've been invited to live life with Jesus and to live the Jesus life. To do that, we need to understand what it means and overcome what holds us back. Then we can lose the T-shirt and experience the adventure.

Excerpted from I Became a Christian and All I Got Was This Lousy T-Shirt (Baker) by Vince Antonucci.

Real Church Love

Found this Awesome blog entry today. This is exactly what we have been talking about in Bible Study, and, quite frankly, with a pile of people outside of Bible Study.

Flip Your Switch

by Greg Gilbert

I've been doing some work lately on a Sunday School class about what love looks like in the church. It's been challenging to me on a lot of different levels, but one thought that's come into my mind again and again is this: We as Christians can very easily become more concerned about whether other people are loving us, than we are about whether we are loving other people.

I know that being and feeling loved are important needs for any human being. That's how we're made. But it's worth noticing, especially in the context of the church, that the Bible's command is to "love one another," not "to be loved by one another." The language is active, not passive.

That ought to set our priorities, and our expectations, in the church. It seems to me that the default position of too many Christians, when it comes to love, is passive rather than active. They're waiting to be loved, rather than acting to love.

In other words, the switch is set on "intake" rather than "output," meaning that people spend alot more time analyzing whether they feel cared for, than they do strategizing about how they can care for others. You can see the problem with that pretty easily: If every switch in the church is set on "intake," most everyone starts to feel like they're "not being cared for." But flip all those switches to "output"—change the priority from "being cared for" to "caring"—and see what happens: Love abounds.

I hope and pray that kind of active love increasingly becomes one of my church's distinctives.

Psalm 42 & 43

Reading thru Psalms 42 and 43 this week for ABF. I love the opening of the Psalm-set, as the Psalmist paints a great picture of searching/seeking Him. Interesting, I noticed this time that the Psalmist never takes a drink. In fact, the water he is actually exposed to is the non-refreshing or non-relaxing deluge from a water fall and crashing waves over top of his head (42.7). This man was desperate. Here's what I learned.

What word comes to mind as you read these Psalms?

• For me, quite frankly, it's depressed.
  

Why was the psalmist so depressed?

• He felt like he couldn't reach God, that he couldn't find him. He felt as if he was separated from his God, his rock, his salvation. (42.1-3, 9, 10; 43.2)
  
• The oppression he faced was constant (42.3, 7, 10)
  
• The people oppressing him were the worst kind. They were the worldly, the ungodly, the unmerciful. (42.9, 10; 43.1)
  
• His longing desire was to return to Jerusalem so he could worship on the holy hill (probably Mt. Zion) (42.4; 43.3, 4)
  

What was his chief prayer request, specifically in 43.3, 4?

• A change in scenery
  
• A change in circumstances
  
• A return trip back home
  
• The good ol' days to return
  

The refrain of these songs is sung 3 times. The placement is no accident. What's the significance of the placement?

• 42.4 is a remembrance of what it used to be, the good and fun times
  
• 42.10 is the reality that he feels like God is gone. He feels the messy situation is growing more and more out of control.
  
• 43.4 is longing, thinking, admitting that it would be so good to return to the city. It would be so good to be out of this situation, and back in the one I was comfortable with, when it was so easy.
  
• Every time the refrain is sang, it is in reaction to the desire of a change in circumstances.
  

What is the point in the refrain? What is the point of these Psalms?

• Circumstances must not dictate our depression or excitement
  
• Our lives are not to be about circumstances
  
• Our lives must be lives in the confident hope in God
  
• These circumstances, though severe and breath taking at times, are not forever!
  

Our hope can't lie in a better job, a better car, a better nose, more money in my account, a spouse. Our hope must be in Him, the hope (expectation) of His love, deliverance, mercy towards us.

Flavorite Sins

This from an article on the Preaching Today blog, April 2, 2007:

At the 2007 National Pastors Convention in San Diego, editorial advisor John Ortberg gave a list of what he regards as the Ten Deadly Sins of the Preacher. Here they are:

1. The temptation to be inauthentic
2. The temptation to live for recognition
3. The temptation to live in fear
4. The temptation to compare myself to others
5. The temptation to exaggerate and plagiarize
6. The temptation to live with a chronic sense of inadequacy
7. The temptation to be proud
8. The temptation to manipulate people
9. The temptation to envy
10. The temptation to anger

Quite frankly, I can see myself in a few of those, but not all. It has nothing to do with maturity, just has to do with my particular flavor preference of sin. Comparing myself and inadequacy are the 2 that resonate the most with me. I know who I am in Christ, I know what I have in Christ, I know it's only Christ, and not me..and yet...

I live with a constant "need" to impress people. A pat on the back, a good word, a smile and wink from my wife, I hunger that feedback from people telling me I am doing ok. I can find feedback even in the looks people give. Their eyes tell the whole story, or at least I think they do. I am a people pleaser.

In truth, I have almost always known that, and because of that, I've worked (ing) through it. I know what I really "need." It's the reminder in my heart, not just my ears and head, but in my heart, that one day, I'll look Christ in the face. My longing must be, and most of the time is, that as He says hello, His eyes will say, "I'm proud of you."

Church Planting Video

I like this video, but quite frankly, I have a serious chance of never being able to find it again. Thus, here it is.

Interesting Article - Do We Praise too Soon?

Quite Frankly, this article has been eating me up. I can't shake it, mostly because, I don't know what it looks like with cloths on...but I think there are some very valid points to it.

Praise That's Premature?
Do we praise too soon?
by Shane Hipps

I scanned the congregation as we finished our third song extolling the wonders of God and our joy for all God has done. As we started the fourth song with the same spirit of energetic celebration, I glimpsed a friend, sitting in the back, who had told me that week that his wife had cheated on him and wanted a divorce.

At that moment the lyrics kicked in, and we started singing joyful thanks for God's abundant blessings. The words I was singing suddenly felt forced, false, and even mocking. I had to spend the rest of the song looking away from my friend, who stood with his mouth shut, staring out the window.

After the service I approached him and said, "I was thinking about you the entire service; it must have been painful sitting through some of the songs."

"Yeah," he said. "I'm not sure this is a good time for me to attend church. It is painful to observe celebration and not be able to join. It accentuates my loneliness."

I left thinking there was something very wrong with this situation.

Worship is often equated with joy and celebration. It's a kind of pep rally to inspire thanksgiving and excitement about who God is. While this is a legitimate aspect of worship, it is incomplete.

This comes into full relief when we consider the experience of my friend and even more so when we read the book of Psalms as a record of ancient worship and a rich resource for our worship today.

An important pattern in the psalms is that they repeatedly employ a narrative arc, a movement from grief and lamentation to celebration and joy. This pattern is strikingly absent in many worship services today. We tend to deny our suffering in favor of celebration.

Perhaps this is because we mistakenly believe that to acknowledge suffering might mean we are ungrateful or lacking in faith. More likely it is because grief is an inefficient and unpleasant emotion that conflicts with the efficient and entertaining biases of today's culture.

This repression of our heaviest emotions is tragic, and over time it leads to an inauthentic and unhealthy spiritual life.

Authenticity and integrity in worship means expressing both lament and praise. Each element completes the other. Without lament, praise is little more than shallow sentimentality and a denial of life's struggles and sin. Without praise, lament is a denial of hope and grace, both of which are central to our life of faith and to God's promises.

To value one over the other is like suggesting that breathing in is more important than breathing out.

This is not only an issue of authenticity and integrity. It cuts to the heart of hospitality and pastoral sensitivity. For those coming to a worship service immersed in pain, celebratory praise takes on a mocking tone that excludes them. They are unable to join honestly in these choruses.

By incorporating expressions of sorrow, pain, and grief into our worship, as the psalms do, the hurting are ushered into God's presence with honesty. At the same time, the rest of the congregation is reminded of the suffering community gathered in their midst. They are invited to weep with those who are weeping. By honoring their pain, we acknowledge those who are suffering and affirm them in their grief.

Yet worship is not complete without turning to praise. When pain has been acknowledged, those who suffer are invited beyond their pain to consider God's faithfulness in the midst of suffering and even to rejoice with those who are rejoicing.

These opportunities for lament and praise are not simply about meeting personal needs. They are missional practices of authenticity, hospitality, and pastoral care.

Copyright © 2007 by the author or Christianity Today International/Leadership Journal.
Spring 2007, Vol. XXVIII, No. 2, Page 64

Discovery in James

Working through James 1 for Bible Study actually taught me something I just plain didn't know before. Not that that should surprise me, but quite frankly, it did. I thought I had James 1 nailed!

Ok, the obvious, we are told to have pure joy when we meet temptations (meet isn't search out and find, but when it finds us, like the robbers who found the man traveling, and left him in the road for dead). Here's the question... HOW?!?!

Well, verses 2 - 4 tell us that we can be joyful because at the end of the trial there is a benefit - completion, maturity, perfection. If we have the right view, if we keep things in perspective, if we live with real integrity (the idea of a one track mind), we can be joyful through the trials, because we know what's at the end.

Fine and good, and a great spiritual thought, a wonderful Christian answer, the right answer, the easy (not simple) answer that I have used and clung to in life... but a pat answer at best. Because the real help in all of this comes next.

If any of you lacks wisdom, let him ask God, who gives generously to all without reproach, and it will be given him. But let him ask in faith, with no doubting, for the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea that is driven and tossed by the wind. For that person must not suppose that he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all his ways. - James 1:5-8

Why would James put that next? Is he just tossing out ideas left and right, kinda "proverbing" if you will? Nope.

The only way we can maintain our joy in the midst of trials is by seeing the end, and the only way to see the end is to ask for and receive the wisdom of God, which is totally opposite of the wisdom of this world.

In this world, the current trial would be all that mattered, as we live in the now, and we would do everything we possibly could do to make the pain stop, to feel better. And that's why alcoholism, drug abuse, porno addictions, prostitution and a myriad of other vices exist. We want out NOW. That is a direct result of our world view being now-centered.

The wisdom of God is needed in order to be then-centered, Him-centered. And that wisdom is there for the asking. And when He gives it to you, He gives it without reproach, without finding fault with us, without rubbing it in that we should have asked earlier, without mocking the snot out of us. He simply gives it, because He knows we need it, and it brings Him joy when we have it.

Now, if I could only be smart enough to ask for it.