Faith Forward

It's not often I write passage notes into my prayer journal. My journal is reserved for prayer. Today, however, God spoke to me through Hebrews 11 and my present circumstance. Prayer answered.

1. Faith is evidenced in assurance and conviction of things yet unseen. Just because I cannot see into the future doesn't make anything yet-to-be less certain.

2. Without faith it is impossible for me to live with and for my God. I don't want to be a functional agnostic.

3. Faith is experienced in the willingness to move forward into the unknown with confidence(see #1) and harder for me, optimism.

4. My faith gives me new identity, that of an "alien" living with hope and perspective external to my present circumstance, all with a transformed (and being transformed) world view.

5. My faith's result is new life (see #4) for me, and hopefully for other people.

6. My faith will be the only compelling reason to ever choose the harder way or greater personal risk. What is counter-intuitive is slowly becoming intuitive.

7. My faith is in someone greater than me, Jesus. Faith in faith by itself is perhaps sincere, but for me sincerely wrong. Faith in people (including me) or in institutions will disappoint. My faith is and must be in response toward someone greater than me. My faith calls me to believe and therefore trust a higher sovereignty.

My faith is being tested in these days leading up to our church conducting Sunday worship services. The present seems overwhelming and the future full of risk. How vital it is for me today to believe and find solace in what I just wrote.



(Thanks, Ron Gile for the killer photo!)

A Little Perspective Might Help

Though a native Southern Californian I have spent 23 years of my life in the Seattle area. While Santa Barbara is my hometown, the Seattle area feels like home base. I have been a Seahawks fan longer than most...because I am older than most. (I will also admit without apology that I took a detour in the 1980's to be relevant to my then Northern Cal constituency. Oddly enough, the black and silver team, not the red and gold team.)

While I am happy to join the Northwest corner (unlike the rest) of the Lower 48 in applauding the Seahawks' addition to the Super Bowl ledger, I am also troubled.

I am troubled over how we're all now on the bandwagon, and how this encourages a higher level of fevered emotion, devotion and wardrobe choices than it does toward more important things. It's like we're now all pawns of a new state religion. Might it be time for Christians in particular to re-calibrate?

I am troubled that each of us will 1) defend, or 2) judge the ill-timed on-camera post game rant by "that" cornerback. Our position is based almost exclusively on our team allegiance. I found it troubling that one well-intentioned defense included the fact that the player is from Compton, CA. (I guess we're supposed to ignore the strain of racial profiling in that.)

I am troubled that some of my pastor friends have been quick to play judge and jury regarding that same player. (C'mon, fellas; as leaders, what are we leading our people to?)

I am troubled that well-intentioned friends will now enter the "which team has more professing Christians than the other team" arms race that is intended to justify and/or persuade our affiliations. While I am happy to see believers on both teams we also ignore the more unsavory rap sheets of some of their teammates.

As stated, I am a happy Seahawks fan today. I hope they win the big one. I really do. I remember thinking the SF Giants would never win the World Series in my lifetime, but this they did. Twice. But if those baseball championships speak to this football season, we, all of us will care deeply about the next outcome. For about a day or two. And then the vicarious glory or vicarious pain will fade. As it should. That's what idols do.

One team or the other will be crowned "World Champions." Doesn't it strike you odd that no other nations have been invited? And would we not agree, our team winning or not winning has no real bearing on why we were created, who we are, or what we live for?

Reflection Paralysis

Middle age shouldn't be confused with the Middle Ages. Historians tell us that while the rest of the civilized world was advancing in those centuries, Europe was blanketed in the "dark ages." No one looks back on the Middle Ages in Europe and says, "those were the good old days," (save for the then dominant church, the land barons and perhaps the Barbarians.)

Middle age, on the other hand is hopefully a season of enlightenment. We come to know ourselves for what we really are. We become more self-evaluative, more reflective. We learn to appreciate and value our primary relationships. We come to terms with our own mortality. Our "legacy" becomes a more viable concern. And I can find myself paralyzed in the process.

I found myself in a high school classroom last week talking about "identity" with the students, and how our identities are formed and informed. The consensus among them seemed to be that (with collective regret) we tend to allow our past, our culture and other people to determine who and what we are. This got me thinking.

Is it possible that with the onset of middle age we find ourselves less constrained by the opinions of others but increasingly shackled by our past? Do our own failures and unmet expectations now determine who and what we are? If so, I'm toast.

It's taken me, and continues to take me a long time to acknowledge who I am. And it may be that my own season of middle age is forcing the issue. There is a choice to be made, even as it may not appear to be a this-or-that crossroads.

I can choose to be dictated by my history of failures and unmet expectations. I can be disappointed by having exhausted my supposed entitlements. I can hope the culture and people in my life will somehow affirm me enough in order to affirm myself. I can hope my "good's" outweigh my "bad's." But I know where this option leads: failure and unmet expectations. A vicious cycle. (If I don't learn from my history, I am certain to repeat it.)

Or, I can place the source and stability of my identity in Someone else's hands. My Bible tells me that Who God is, and What God has done determines who I am and how I can live. It's not about highlighting what I've done well, or glossing over what I didn't do so well. It's not about trying to convince other people I am more admirable than I know myself to be. It's not about blaming culture or other people, fanning the flames of a victim mentality. It IS about acknowledging God's work, through Jesus, on my behalf, unwarranted and unearned on my part, determines and informs who I am now.

It's a choice to believe that it's not what I do, but what Jesus has already done. That's grace. And that's the choice I make. Because, here in my own middle ages it's the only option that doesn't end in darkness.

Internal Combustion

I see myself as one of the few "anti-bloggers." I have many friends (mostly acquaintances) who write frequent blog posts with much to say, with many words, and with more wisdom, expertise and authority than I could possibly muster. Perhaps I find myself with different motivations. Blogging (now a cultural verb) helps me, through trial and error to learn to convey thoughts with fewer words. (Good thing, I suppose. This makes my own mother, the former English teacher happy.) I also write to prove, a least to myself that I am not an expert in my field.

In the ongoing process of my own "sanctification" (a Bible word for "maturing as a follower of Jesus") it is clear to all I am not yet a finished product. Therefore, my blog posts are intended to be more about my learning than what I may think I already know. (I know, this sounds like post-modern angst.) This is my attempt to again fillet my soul by electronic medium. I hereby submit to you only the latest example, under a possible sub heading of "Don't Be Like Mike!"

I was assigned to be the band teacher at TMHS the first three days of this week. I figured I could fake my way through jazz band, wind ensemble, song writing, concert band and the history of rock and roll. I hearkened back on my own history in school band/s, a few college classes and my own wits. Admittedly I had a blast. Once the kids knew "Mr. Mike" was indeed serious about conducting rehearsals (or making them write papers on song writing or the history of rock and roll) they bought in. They all made it easy for me. It helped when I told them at the onset of what I knew...and what I didn't know (or had left behind in the annuls of time.) But here's what I didn't see coming...

I didn't know the school district is short of subs. On Monday, after showing up for "0" Period only to find out they don't meet on Mondays (gurr), I actually found myself responsible for two classrooms; my band room, and the choir/strings/Spanish/health class next door. It was chaos, (double gurr?) On Tuesday, again due to said sub shortage I devoted my two "prep" periods to covering morning P.E. classes, both teaming with adolescent humanity. (And, yes, we had an injury...which happens every single time I have a P.E. class. I am consistent.) The DVD player in the band room decided not to function that afternoon, so I was forced to resort to Plan B (fake it) mode.

By Wednesday I harbored two extremes; optimistic and accommodating externally, while seething internally (where the real 'me' resides.) I found myself ready to tell anyone willing to listen of how the school, school district and the world-wide educational system (if there is such a thing) were against me.

However, and before I got irreparably too deep into any of those conversations I had a God moment. And what I heard, if not audibly was, "Stop and think, you fool!" (My words, not necessarily God's.) And what I realized then and now is, all of it was parcel to my own sanctification. These experiences were going to do one of two things: break me of my pride, or break any positive reputation at the school I may have in the "bank." I came home that day, chastised and newly reformed.

So today I wrote my children (as I do each week) and told them what I'm now telling you: my ongoing sanctification is not yet complete. I got it wrong, very wrong, as self-pity almost always is. My internal was out of joint and my external wasn't far behind.

There you have it. That's what I learned already this week. Pity, I may have to re-learn it all again if it doesn't stick this time around.

Oh, and I see I've also botched the word limit on this post.

Expectations Management

This week has been dominated by chaos. Sleep has been a misnomer. Slowing down to actually chew my food a myth. Yesterday I had the new experience of conducting two high school classes, at the same time. Whoever wrote that syrupy "serenity prayer" is apparently living on a planet other than the one I inhabit.

But here on a rainy Friday it's "Alaska Day," (our very independent State's version of the 4th.) Alaska Day means no school, so today and for the first time in a while I am afforded time and opportunity to reflect on the past week. In so doing I've landed on two related realities;

In truth, my week wasn't all that bad. I evidently just chose to make chaos my world view. Secondly, it really wasn't schedule or people demands that caused my sense of chaos, it was my own expectations. Now, if you will, allow me to get philosophical.

The line between desires and expectations is thin. Our personal desires quickly morph into expectations when left unchecked. Desires almost always require and thus hope for the cooperation of events and other people, while expectations demand that same cooperation. But what, if anything does all this prove?

In my camp we call these desires-slash-expectations "idols." Anything that isn't directed to God is therefore an idol. If my idol is "power," I will busy myself trying to avoid failure and humiliation, at the price of always feeling responsible if not angry. If my idol is "comfort," I will endeavor to avoid any/all stresses even if it results in "nothing ventured, nothing gained." If my chosen idol is "control," I will work to mitigate against uncertainty at the price of incessant worry. And if my idol is "affirmation," I will do whatever necessary to up my approval rating and avoid the pain of rejection, ultimately resulting in slavery to the desires and expectations of other people.

So what I saw and experienced as chaos this week was essentially trumped up. I saw things the way I wanted to see them...as threats to my idols; as roadblocks on my way to expectations management.

Even pastors, especially this one needs to remember that idols are made up, though the idolatry is for real. And this is why repentance is a step toward freedom...even in the midst of self-perceived chaos.

The Price of Unity

I went to a gathering of area pastors yesterday. First time for me. Mentally attaching faces to names (and church buildings) was delightful.

I didn't know I was stepping into initiation traditions. There was no overt hazing. I didn't have to stand on a chair and sing my college fight song. But I was assigned duty to bring the devotional next month. It was also mandated that I will be the speaker at the city-wide Thanksgiving's Eve service. It's how they welcome the new guy, I guess.

I was blessed with the humility and heart for the city evidenced by each guy in the room. One guy made the point of saying, "When the Apostle Paul wrote letters to various churches, he wrote to the believers in that city. Those letters made no real mention of individual fellowships, denominational alliances or doctrinal distinctives between readers." This same guy went on to say that if true today, then we...the guys around yesterday's table...would be the elders the Apostle would have held up to particular responsibility as shepherds for our city. This resonated with me.

We had but two action items. We quickly and efficiently planned both next month's gathering, and the Thanksgiving's Eve service. The remaining time was devoted to hearing about and praying for each other; not as rival pastors but as brothers. A wounded but joyful brotherhood. And I was blessed to see how no one was territorial. No one campaigned for pole position. It hit me that a lot of good can come when no one is concerned over who gets the credit.

Truth be told, every church pastor has stories of pastors gatherings in their respective histories and prior cities; some a delight, and others not so much. At worst, pastors gatherings
can resemble a collection of bantam roosters pecking at each other in the barnyard. Or maybe more like a five year high school reunion where some of the alums still maintain a sparkling view of their own prowess and potential.

But at best it's just a group of guys who love Jesus, love their wives and kids, love the city, and even dare to love the other churches in town. Like knowing we're all on the same team. The price of unity.

(Thanks, Pat Costello for the cool photo.)

Thoughts on Walking into a Closed Door

Last night I thought I was helpful. My wife even thanked me for the "wisdom" I had dispensed on her behalf. Then it happened. I proved otherwise.

While grilling salmon outside on the deck I intended to go back inside to fetch something. In doing so I proceeded to walk into the glass slider door that was already closed. (Previously, I thought only dogs did that!) I smooshed my face and crunched my hand. I deposited my beverage all over the slider glass, and myself, nearly smashing my beverage container in the process. Epic fail. At that moment any self-applause I harbored in response to my previously dispensed "wisdom" was eliminated from the clutter in my brain. My wife is gracious. We had a good laugh. At my expense. Well deserved.

On another but related note, religious people are taught to believe that their most recent thought or action determines who they are, the status of their position or status in relation to God. (And if that's true, last night I positioned myself in God's eyes as the village idiot.) It's no wonder other people see religious people as dictated by a long list of "do's" and "don'ts." It's as if the goal of religious affiliation and activity is to become a "good person." Religion, therefore is viewed by our wider culture as being no more than a lifelong quest for "morality." Problem #1 is, one person's morality is someone else's immorality. Problem #2 is, no one is truly moral.

However, religion and the gospel are not the same thing. Religion is mankind's idea, while the gospel is God's. Religion says, "do the right things." The gospel says, "Done!"

How can that be?

My standing as a Christ-follower is not based on how well I adhere to the "do's and don'ts list." Good thing, since I'm just seconds away from my next epic fail. Instead, the gospel tells me that my standing isn't predicated on my behavior, it's based on Jesus' accomplishment. In what Martin Luther called the "Great Exchange" Jesus took my sin to the cross, and in exchange gave me his standing before God. Not based on what I do, but on what Jesus already did. This is undeserved; the very definition of grace.

Freedom for me is found in not having to please God for my worth, standing or future. He's already pleased with me solely because He's pleased with Jesus. I am now free to abandon my own false sense of propriety, my own conjectures of morality, and even my score on the "do's and don'ts list." I'm free to love and serve because I'm freed from having to earn and self-justify. I am freed from hoping other people will see me as wise, and freed to follow after the truly wise One.

Even when I'm attempting to walk through closed doors.