I'm fighting for Christmas this year

I don't know why it's been so hard to find the mood of the season for me. Maybe it's the stress of a new job. Maybe it just the stress of living this Northern VA life. Maybe it's the economy. Whatever it is it has been hard to feel like Christmas is coming.

Usually that is very easy for me. We come home from Thanksgiving and it gets cold and all of a sudden I'm just thrilled with the thought of the coming advent season. I love the dark afternoons and cold nights. I enjoy the crowded stores and lights in the streets. Mostly I enjoy taking the emotional journey of hoping, then believing then waiting for that blessed night when I can regard all the wonder of what God did for us. What he did for me.

But this year was just off. So now it's Christmas Eve eve. We are packing like crazy for the long drive south and I know by the time I can take a breath it will all be over.

What stinks is I really need Christmas this year. I need the sense that all is well. I need to feel that there is good news of great joy.

There's so much stress and pain in this world. Cholera in Zimbabwe, riots in Greece, slavery and oppression everywhere. And in my life I'm losing more battles than I'm winning.

I guess I need a Christmas miracle. We'll see what happens. I want to know Christ and the power of His resurrection as I share in His sufferings. My sufferings are so mundane.

We need a little Christmas, right this very minute...

So where are all these awful churches everyone keeps preaching about?

You know the ones. They are creating these huge mega churches but they don’t preach orthodox Christianity. My pastor keeps telling me about them so they must be out there. I just can’t find them.

What about all the churches who have sold out to the culture and are more focused on smoke machines and lasers than preaching the entire gospel of Christ? Everyone says these churches are leading to the demise of American Christianity. But why is it that when I visit these churches or podcast their sermons I hear the “good news” that Jesus loves me and has died for my sins and the “bad news” that a life of following Christ will be full of troubles.

Then there are all the topical preachers out there who don’t preach God’s word but instead just focus on helping me solve the everyday problems of my life. I really want to get worked up about the lack of expository teaching; except I’m finding that God uses both types of preaching and teaching in my life.

When did we decide that it is ok to take potshots at other churches on issues that don’t matter? Why do our pastors feel so secure in feeding our innate desires to believe we’re better than everyone else instead of teaching us the discipline of love in the unity of the Body of Christ?

For instance, I don’t agree with everything Rob Bell teaches but, after listening to several dozen sermons, I’m convinced he’s essentially orthodox. More importantly I see and hear stories of changed lives and people following hard after Christ.

Mark Driscoll has, at times, been crasser than I would have preferred. And I’m not sure his masculine Christ really honors the whole nature of God. But people are getting saved in Seattle! People are coming close to the Lord and surrendering their lives to Him.

Erwin McManus uses pretty unorthodox language but when Hollywood types are entering into real conversations about faith and coming to see that the historic Jesus Christ died as their substitute how can I complain. It’s not like my church is reaching them!

In I Corinthians 12, there’s an interesting coupling of verses that we rarely talk about together. Verse 3 makes the point that no one who is speaking in the Spirit of God says, "Jesus be cursed." Paul then goes on to give us one of the best description of the unity and diversity of the Body of Christ. He makes the point that we are part of one body under one Spirit.

So my question is when you curse Christ’s Body do you not also curse Christ? Are you so sure in your methods, theology and preaching style that you are willing to stand before the Lord and explain that you were right to attack His Body from your place of calling?

Sabbath Blessed Sabbath

Its early on Sunday morning. The day is starting out gray and cool. Through the open windows I can hear birds shuffling around. I think they're trying to get a few extra minutes of sleep too. The cool air feels like it has extra oxygen in it. Fresh coffee and good music are ready.

This is sabbath.

This is rest. Soon we'll head off to church to meet with the brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ in Northern Virginia. Some say the church is too big but I take comfort in the fact that I'm am part of something very, very big. I love the cars lined up. I love the voices raised. I love the visitors getting greeted and directions. All of it says, "you are not alone." He has brought a community around us and now we can meet to worship Him.

That is Sabbath in America. It is the Sabbath I know. It is the Sabbath my culture has given me. I know Sabbath has been celebrated in many ways over the last 15 or so hours as the sun has circled the globe and I am glad to add my voice to the worldwide chorus.

To participate in the worship of the King of the Universe is so much more than I deserve. Thank you Lord for this grace and mercy of a Sabbath.

Lessons from 395

Like almost every other federal worker in D.C. a great deal of my life is spent commuting. Normally I don't mind it. The 2+ hours a day I spend in the car are literally my only time to think on most days. Most of my co-workers would attest to that statement.

Usually I podcast and I love it. The iPod has freed me from the drudgery of live radio. Today news from Africa, a few songs then a sermon from Erwin or Mark. Tomorrow a thought from Rob or Francis then NPR stories and NASCAR news. Finally, something I can control!

This morning, as I was cresting the hill on 395 above the Pentagon, I was enjoying selected readings from John Eldredge's Walking with God. I haven't purchased the book yet but I loved his stories detailing his own life walking with God. I have to say that this book departs from my understanding of God's will for our life (that there is no perfect single will) but it resonates with my understanding that God wishes to communicate with me all the time every day through prayer and reflection grounded in the Bible.

Anyway, in this morning John was talking about an experience hiking up a Colorado river to find a new creek he hoped to fly fish. Although I've never done it, fly fishing is a goal of mine some day. But this Friday morning as I'm stuck sitting still on a six lane highway on the east coast fly fishing is about as close to my experience as sitting on the moon.

So as my imagination drifts over to those placid western streams I notice a G5 private jet taking off from National Airport. And instantly I'm jerked into another fantasy. I love those jets! I love the freedom and luxury of commanding a pilot to fly me wherever. I'm attracted to the glamor and sophistication of private flight.

So there I am stuck on 395 at 8:55AM between two equally attractive fantasies. One of simple natural pleasures and the other of wealth and luxury. I'm everywhere and anywhere but where I actually am!

Finally, I notice Washington laid out below me. I love this city. I love my work here and I love the people who live and work here. But while God has me exactly where he wants me right now - and I'm challenged by the life I get to lead - I still am distracted into dreams about things I don't need.

I want my life to be my fantasy life. But I don't know how to do that. How do you get to a place where you really see the life God is giving you? I don't know but maybe I'll figure that out on tomorrow's commute.

Learning From Rwanda

Last night I got to see a new documentary called As We Forgive. The one hour film tells the story of Rwandans struggling to find ways to live together in the wake of the genocide that happened there in 1994. In 100 days - in a country the size of Maryland - more than one million Rwandans were slaughtered in ethnic fighting. Years later, facing a backlogged court system that would never provide justice, President Kigame began releasing those who confessed their crimes to their communities. Local tribal courts began dispensing justice. But in most cases these punishments allowed the murderers to remain in their home communities . . . often living very close to the remaining family members of their victims.

What would it be like to live side by side with the murderers of your parents, your spouse or your children? In Rwanda many people have no choice since poverty prevents the luxury of mobility. The Rwandan Government and Rwandan churches are encouraging victims to reconcile with each other. So far its a dicey proposition. But the movie tells the story of three people who have entered into that process as well as two self-confessed murderers who seek forgiveness. I won't spoil the story for you but let's just say it isn't a smooth journey.

What sticks out to me are the pronounced differences in both the victims and the criminals as compared to what I've seen in America. The murderers are completely honest about their actions. They neither excuse or blame. Several times they admit that death isn't punishment enough for their crimes. Meanwhile, the victims don't minimize the pain they experience. Their lives are wrecked and will never be the same. They continue to suffer from the lasting impact of violence. When they consider forgiveness it isn't just a blithe agreement to hide their true feelings in order to be socially acceptable. It's real, heart freeing, forgiveness.

What I'm wondering today is whether our American society has created a barrier to that kind of real reconciliation. Rwandan's sit under trees and face each other. In America, the families of our victims stand in courtrooms and scream epithets at the accused usually ending with the fervent hope that they burn in Hell forever. When we hear of a prisoner being killed in jail we laugh. We Americans have made prison rape a joke.

Let's be clear, crime deserves real punishment. Those victims are right to feel the way they feel. But does anyone ever heal? Does anyone ever get over the past? I don't really have the answers, but I know a little more about what heaven looks like after watching this documentary.

Please find a way to see this movie. Also consider supporting the groups working to lead people towards reconciliation. They are woefully underfunded. Besides supporting the film, you can learn more by visiting Prison Fellowship International's Umuvumu Tree Project.

These issues aren't easy to discuss or even think about. But somehow I think our quest for justice has given us neither justice or reconciliation . . . we're poorer for that.