I’ve lived my life with high expectations of myself. I’ve sought to be a responsible person. I suppose what I’ve done is to accept the goals that society has of those who would seek the good of others (i.e., people like pastors). I’ve sought to not disappoint. And I’ve assumed that these same expectations are the ones that God has of me.
But where does that get me? If I think I’ve attained the goals then there’s nothing else to live for (and I’m probably in prideful denial anyway). Or if I disappoint, who will forgive me and give me a new start? Even if God forgives me, does that mean he sets the bar lower so that I can reach it next time? And so I’m still some kind of disappointment to him?
What would it be like to live life with a sense of expectancy instead of expectations? To have hope instead of a sense of responsibility? To replace obligation with joy? I just finished reading “The Shack”. (Don’t worry: if you haven’t read it and intend to, there’s no spoiler here.) As I finished the book tears came to my eyes. I had gotten a glimpse of the joy of living a life filled with God’s sense of expectancy and eternal hope, even for me. (Sorry if that didn't make sense: you may need to read the book yourself.) My past couple sessions of spiritual direction have been about letting go of my expectations of myself, expectations that I thought God had of me, and accepting who God made me to be with a sense of expectancy and joy in what is going to happen next as I partner with what the Holy Spirit is doing and transforming in me.
What’s the difference between vision and expectations? Vision isn’t fantasy, but is grounded in the reality of what God is doing. It sees the beauty that is unfolding under the supervision of God’s Spirit. Expectations are stifling and demanding. Meeting expectations results in pride. Vision realized brings joy. I pray that my influence on Grace Community will be through vision and not expectations.
Friday, June 5, 2009
Thursday, April 30, 2009
breakfast in bed
Serving someone breakfast in bed is intended to make her or him feel special, to show that they’re honored and have a special place in your life.
I was talking to the 4th-6th graders last Sunday about our corporate worship. I asked them if we should call our worshiping together on Sundays a worship “service” or worship “celebration”. I’ve heard it argued that we should get rid of the terminology of “service” because it denotes obligation and drudgery. But as I was discussing this with our 4th-6th graders I realized that it’s like serving God breakfast in bed. It can be fun to do, and it can be done with all the trappings of celebration, but the focus isn’t on how we feel but on the fact that God is worthy of being honored and has a special place in our lives.
Sometimes we burn the toast or overcook the eggs. But God’s love and grace are so amazing that as long as we are intending to honor God, as long as we are truly offering ourselves to him, even if we sing a wrong note or lose our place in the sermon or even fall asleep during the service, he takes what we offer and transforms it (Romans 12:1-2).
I was talking to the 4th-6th graders last Sunday about our corporate worship. I asked them if we should call our worshiping together on Sundays a worship “service” or worship “celebration”. I’ve heard it argued that we should get rid of the terminology of “service” because it denotes obligation and drudgery. But as I was discussing this with our 4th-6th graders I realized that it’s like serving God breakfast in bed. It can be fun to do, and it can be done with all the trappings of celebration, but the focus isn’t on how we feel but on the fact that God is worthy of being honored and has a special place in our lives.
Sometimes we burn the toast or overcook the eggs. But God’s love and grace are so amazing that as long as we are intending to honor God, as long as we are truly offering ourselves to him, even if we sing a wrong note or lose our place in the sermon or even fall asleep during the service, he takes what we offer and transforms it (Romans 12:1-2).
Tuesday, April 21, 2009
washing the car
It was a hot day yesterday, so our two youngest kids (ages 6 and 8) decided to help me by washing the minivan. I’d had a vague notion yesterday afternoon that they were happily engaged, but I didn’t know what they were doing. This morning as I was backing out of the driveway to take them to school I looked into the rearview mirror and wondered why the window was so cloudy. Then I realized that all the windows except the windshield (which they couldn’t reach) had a film of dishwashing liquid over them. I explained to them that they should get adult supervision next time.
Kids love to do “adult” work: washing, cooking, cleaning. Their minds engage, enjoy and explore things that adults would call mundane chores. But who has the better perspective? Our adult labels suck what Kathleen Norris calls “the quotidian mysteries” out of the work that God has given us to do (if you say “quotidian” instead of “everyday” you’ll be sure to impress or at least confuse your friends).
Adam and Eve were given work to do in the Garden of Eden before they sinned. Work is a gift from God. Everyday work never ends, reflecting, in a weird way, the eternal nature of God. Household activities such as cleaning and cooking are ways of sustaining the life that is also a gift from God. They can be ways to love God and each other. Ephesians 6:6 tells us that our work should be offered “heartily” to God. (KJV) And who can reject a well-cooked meal offered in love? Many of our parents don’t know any other way to say “I love you” than to over-feed us and clean up after us when we come over for dinner.
It’s true that adults need to teach kids how to do properly various everyday life-sustaining activities such as cooking and cleaning. I try to show my kids how to do things efficiently and effectively. But in the process of teaching I need to be careful that my attitude toward the work doesn’t demean the work itself or the people who have come to be characterized by that work (housecleaners, car wash attendants, cooks, etc.).
So I’m thankful that my kids still enjoy some kinds of everyday work, even when it gives me more work to do. I cleaned off the minivan windows when I got back home as a way of loving my kids and thanking God for his quotidian blessings. And I made a mental note to show them how to properly wash a car.
Kids love to do “adult” work: washing, cooking, cleaning. Their minds engage, enjoy and explore things that adults would call mundane chores. But who has the better perspective? Our adult labels suck what Kathleen Norris calls “the quotidian mysteries” out of the work that God has given us to do (if you say “quotidian” instead of “everyday” you’ll be sure to impress or at least confuse your friends).
Adam and Eve were given work to do in the Garden of Eden before they sinned. Work is a gift from God. Everyday work never ends, reflecting, in a weird way, the eternal nature of God. Household activities such as cleaning and cooking are ways of sustaining the life that is also a gift from God. They can be ways to love God and each other. Ephesians 6:6 tells us that our work should be offered “heartily” to God. (KJV) And who can reject a well-cooked meal offered in love? Many of our parents don’t know any other way to say “I love you” than to over-feed us and clean up after us when we come over for dinner.
It’s true that adults need to teach kids how to do properly various everyday life-sustaining activities such as cooking and cleaning. I try to show my kids how to do things efficiently and effectively. But in the process of teaching I need to be careful that my attitude toward the work doesn’t demean the work itself or the people who have come to be characterized by that work (housecleaners, car wash attendants, cooks, etc.).
So I’m thankful that my kids still enjoy some kinds of everyday work, even when it gives me more work to do. I cleaned off the minivan windows when I got back home as a way of loving my kids and thanking God for his quotidian blessings. And I made a mental note to show them how to properly wash a car.
Friday, April 10, 2009
getting it
Last night at the Maundy Thursday service we had 6 adults and 7 kids. We had a great time re-living the events for which Maundy Thursday is named: washing feet and taking the Bread and the Cup together. But I was hoping for at least twice that number.
Why do I want more of Grace Community to participate in something like a Maundy Thursday service? It’s inconvenient if you don’t get Good Friday off and can just hang out. And if you’re a parent with kids who don’t get Good Friday off then it interferes with your regular school schedule. Then there’s the weirdness of explaining to friends what a Maundy Thursday service is.
I didn’t grow up observing Maundy Thursday. But I’ve grown to appreciate how having events to observe as part of the Christian calendar shapes me, just as observing the calendar of the society we live in (work, school, holidays) has given me memories and practices make me feel and act a particular way: I’m supposed to get up to go to work, Fridays are supposed to kick off the weekend, I’m supposed to do something special for my loved ones on Valentine’s Day, etc. The problem is that the Christian calendar and the world’s calendar can conflict. And then what will I choose? My choices are important: they shape my identity. But it takes a lot to get me out of my default mode.
Jesus knew this, so he shocked the disciples by washing their feet. The NIV translation of John 13:1 says, “He showed them the full extent of his love.” The disciples would be in too much shock in a few hours to figure out the deep significance of the Cross. They needed something more immediate and tangible, something that they could participate in directly. So Jesus takes advantage of the lack of a foot washing servant to do something completely counter-cultural but also very understandable in their cultural context. It was a teachable moment.
The disciples didn’t get it at first. Peter even refused to let Jesus wash his feet. It must have been at least a little frustrating for Jesus to see that his disciples, those to whom he was entrusting the future of his mission to save the world, still didn’t get it after 3 years. But then again, Jesus wasn’t passing on a management method. He was interested in changed lives. Changing lives and developing new identities takes time. May I be so patient.
Why do I want more of Grace Community to participate in something like a Maundy Thursday service? It’s inconvenient if you don’t get Good Friday off and can just hang out. And if you’re a parent with kids who don’t get Good Friday off then it interferes with your regular school schedule. Then there’s the weirdness of explaining to friends what a Maundy Thursday service is.
I didn’t grow up observing Maundy Thursday. But I’ve grown to appreciate how having events to observe as part of the Christian calendar shapes me, just as observing the calendar of the society we live in (work, school, holidays) has given me memories and practices make me feel and act a particular way: I’m supposed to get up to go to work, Fridays are supposed to kick off the weekend, I’m supposed to do something special for my loved ones on Valentine’s Day, etc. The problem is that the Christian calendar and the world’s calendar can conflict. And then what will I choose? My choices are important: they shape my identity. But it takes a lot to get me out of my default mode.
Jesus knew this, so he shocked the disciples by washing their feet. The NIV translation of John 13:1 says, “He showed them the full extent of his love.” The disciples would be in too much shock in a few hours to figure out the deep significance of the Cross. They needed something more immediate and tangible, something that they could participate in directly. So Jesus takes advantage of the lack of a foot washing servant to do something completely counter-cultural but also very understandable in their cultural context. It was a teachable moment.
The disciples didn’t get it at first. Peter even refused to let Jesus wash his feet. It must have been at least a little frustrating for Jesus to see that his disciples, those to whom he was entrusting the future of his mission to save the world, still didn’t get it after 3 years. But then again, Jesus wasn’t passing on a management method. He was interested in changed lives. Changing lives and developing new identities takes time. May I be so patient.
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
Tuesday
Yesterday was Tuesday of Holy Week. In Mark 14:1-11 it says that the woman (probably Mary, as in Mary and Martha) anointed Jesus two days before they celebrated Passover. So if Maundy Thursday is the day Jesus celebrated the Passover with his disciples at the Last Supper, then Tuesday is the day Mary anointed Jesus.
How did Mary feel as she did this? Jesus seems to imply that she did it knowing that he was going to die, as opposed to the Twelve who seemed to be clueless. So she must have been sad and distressed. Yet she had the wherewithal to create this act of worship that was so powerful we still speak of it today.
As I’m creating sermons and worship designs there’s a side of me that wants it to flow easily out of a sense of joyfulness. When my mood is elevated, things seem to be easier. But there are times when I just want to curl up and forget the world outside. A time of pain seems to be an odd time to create an act of worship.
But God takes whatever I have to give him and makes it worthy of being offered to him. I can’t do that myself. Nothing I can create can come close. “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6)
So there is joyful worship that’s like God hanging my kindergarten painting on his refrigerator like a proud parent. And there’s worship that is ragged and tattered and soiled, but it’s all I have at the time, and God is the one who takes my living sacrifice and makes something out of it that is acceptable to him (Romans 12:1).
How did Mary feel as she did this? Jesus seems to imply that she did it knowing that he was going to die, as opposed to the Twelve who seemed to be clueless. So she must have been sad and distressed. Yet she had the wherewithal to create this act of worship that was so powerful we still speak of it today.
As I’m creating sermons and worship designs there’s a side of me that wants it to flow easily out of a sense of joyfulness. When my mood is elevated, things seem to be easier. But there are times when I just want to curl up and forget the world outside. A time of pain seems to be an odd time to create an act of worship.
But God takes whatever I have to give him and makes it worthy of being offered to him. I can’t do that myself. Nothing I can create can come close. “All our righteous acts are like filthy rags.” (Isaiah 64:6)
So there is joyful worship that’s like God hanging my kindergarten painting on his refrigerator like a proud parent. And there’s worship that is ragged and tattered and soiled, but it’s all I have at the time, and God is the one who takes my living sacrifice and makes something out of it that is acceptable to him (Romans 12:1).
skating
Monday night Winnie asked me what the marks were under my eyes. I looked in the mirror and realized that I hadn’t accidentally jabbed myself with a Sharpie, I had dark circles under my eyes. I’m prone to such circles anyway, but it was a sign that I’ve been pretty stressed lately.
The stress of being a lead pastor is something that most people are vaguely aware of. But there are a few things that give this time a definite shape. First, there’s the recession. Second, there is the transition that we’re going through as a result of our new vision. Third, there’s the re-shaping of the worship ministries that are now my responsibility.
When I was leading the Bible study at Leland House last Sunday, one of the residents remarked, “You must pray all the time.” I thought about it and then shared that the hardest time for me to pray is when I’m busy doing stuff related to being a pastor. That surprised the group, but it’s a truism that I know most of my fellow pastors appreciate.
I’ve been trying to learn how to rest in my Father’s love. I think it was St. John of the Cross who called prayer the loving gaze. Zephaniah 3:17 (“you will rest in his love”) has been my centering prayer verse because it reminds me that God’s love is a place for me to rest. But there’s another kind of love that is a love of action. In 2 Timothy 1:7 Paul links love to power and discipline. I was talking to my spiritual director about this and the image of an ice skater came to mind. Moving forward is a matter of shifting between resting love and active love. I can’t stay forever in one or I’ll quit moving forward spiritually.
Nor am I to work like crazy for a season and then, exhausted, go to God for resting love. I still have to examine how I do my work. Is it in the Spirit that God has given me, a Spirit of “love and power and discipline”? Or is it all done in dependence on myself, a spirit of fear that I’m not good enough, that I won’t get enough done unless I drive myself?
Someone told me once that God has given me enough hours in a day to do what he wants me to do. The problem is that I keep adding more stuff, stuff I think I need to do (notice the emphasis on the word "I"). May I have the grace to quit praying to manipulate God into helping me do what I think needs to be done and instead abandon myself to the things he is calling me to do, the things that flow out of and affirm the fact that I am beloved by him and given me a unique place in his purposes for the world.
The stress of being a lead pastor is something that most people are vaguely aware of. But there are a few things that give this time a definite shape. First, there’s the recession. Second, there is the transition that we’re going through as a result of our new vision. Third, there’s the re-shaping of the worship ministries that are now my responsibility.
When I was leading the Bible study at Leland House last Sunday, one of the residents remarked, “You must pray all the time.” I thought about it and then shared that the hardest time for me to pray is when I’m busy doing stuff related to being a pastor. That surprised the group, but it’s a truism that I know most of my fellow pastors appreciate.
I’ve been trying to learn how to rest in my Father’s love. I think it was St. John of the Cross who called prayer the loving gaze. Zephaniah 3:17 (“you will rest in his love”) has been my centering prayer verse because it reminds me that God’s love is a place for me to rest. But there’s another kind of love that is a love of action. In 2 Timothy 1:7 Paul links love to power and discipline. I was talking to my spiritual director about this and the image of an ice skater came to mind. Moving forward is a matter of shifting between resting love and active love. I can’t stay forever in one or I’ll quit moving forward spiritually.
Nor am I to work like crazy for a season and then, exhausted, go to God for resting love. I still have to examine how I do my work. Is it in the Spirit that God has given me, a Spirit of “love and power and discipline”? Or is it all done in dependence on myself, a spirit of fear that I’m not good enough, that I won’t get enough done unless I drive myself?
Someone told me once that God has given me enough hours in a day to do what he wants me to do. The problem is that I keep adding more stuff, stuff I think I need to do (notice the emphasis on the word "I"). May I have the grace to quit praying to manipulate God into helping me do what I think needs to be done and instead abandon myself to the things he is calling me to do, the things that flow out of and affirm the fact that I am beloved by him and given me a unique place in his purposes for the world.
Wednesday, April 1, 2009
core
I was talking to someone recently who told me about a friend whose dad had been stricken with Alzheimer’s. The dad had been a man of action, but as his abilities faded he found himself bewildered because there was nothing for him to do. Who was he? What was left inside? He had never paid attention to his inner life, so he was losing his sense of himself. And he was becoming a very difficult person to be around.
A couple of weeks ago when Natasha Richardson died very unexpectedly, I saw a replay of a 1998 interview in which she said she thought of herself as an “overweight unattractive teenager.” The world was mourning the loss of a beautiful actress, but they couldn’t see beyond the outer self.
Who am I inside? The great men and women of Christian spirituality urge us to cultivate our inner life. The foundation of Christian spirituality is listening prayer. And at the heart of listening prayer is hearing God say he loves us. I need to hear the Father’s voice, telling me I am his beloved. My inner self is not what I do or have accomplished. At my very core I must know that I am God’s and that he loves me.
Cultivating is a farming metaphor. It takes time and energy to break up the ground, to remove the weeds, to make it hospitable to life. And then it takes time for the plants to grow and to bear fruit. But if I don’t want to end up lacking an inner life, if I want to be characterized by love, joy and peace (the fruit of the Spirit), then there’s no time like the present to start cultivating my inner life.
A couple of weeks ago when Natasha Richardson died very unexpectedly, I saw a replay of a 1998 interview in which she said she thought of herself as an “overweight unattractive teenager.” The world was mourning the loss of a beautiful actress, but they couldn’t see beyond the outer self.
Who am I inside? The great men and women of Christian spirituality urge us to cultivate our inner life. The foundation of Christian spirituality is listening prayer. And at the heart of listening prayer is hearing God say he loves us. I need to hear the Father’s voice, telling me I am his beloved. My inner self is not what I do or have accomplished. At my very core I must know that I am God’s and that he loves me.
Cultivating is a farming metaphor. It takes time and energy to break up the ground, to remove the weeds, to make it hospitable to life. And then it takes time for the plants to grow and to bear fruit. But if I don’t want to end up lacking an inner life, if I want to be characterized by love, joy and peace (the fruit of the Spirit), then there’s no time like the present to start cultivating my inner life.
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