I'm going to Malawi

I pastor students, and I take the responsibility to show God's compelling love seriously. God's love compels us to stand against injustice, to bring peace in a violent world, and to see every single human being as created in the imago Dei.

As a means of helping students understand human dignity we participated in a 30 Hour Famine. I partook in a famine in High School, saw it is as a positive experience, so I thought we'd give it a try too. The purpose of the 30 Hour Famine is to go without food for 30 hours in order to gain some sort of an idea of what kids are experiencing all across the world. We also raise money through our efforts. These dollars are sent directly to families to provide means of sustenance and sustainability.

Our group set a pretty basic goal: we wanted to make sure 6 kids were fed and clothed for a year. As news about the famine effort spread throughout our church, everyone got behind our students. By the time all was said and done, we raised enough money for 33 kids to receive good news in the form of bread for a year. For that all we can say is thanks be to God.

In June I received a call from NCM with the invitation to join a team to go to Malawi in conjunction with World Vision to survey what is happening with the funds we raised from the famine. We would have the opportunity to meet families and children who are being given new life and hope. I spoke to my wife Nicole about it, called my boss to see what he thought, and in both instances the response was the same: "You're going, right?"It was a tone to say, if you don't go, you'd be ludicrous. Needless to say, I said I'm there.

Next Thursday, I will be off. I fly into Seattle to meet up with the team for a day of training at the World Vision headquarters. Then we will begin a 27 hour journey to Malawi. We will be there for 5 days. Check out the map below:

I must say I'm humbled by this opportunity to see what God is up to in a world where I am the alien and the stranger. Romans 8 has also been on my mind because I don't really know how to pray for what is ahead. But I do know "the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express" (Rom 8:26). I pray that I may gain some semblance of solidarity with these people, in order to groan as they groan.

I'd love it if you'd be willing to pray along with me. Here are a few ways you:

Pray for the team, especially the students going along. The team consists of a couple of World Vision employees, 4 youth pastors, and 3 students. Pray the students are inspired to a life of passionate following Jesus and working for his redemption.

Pray for my family. Perhaps the most difficult part of this is that I will miss my family so much. Nicole and Britton will be busy the whole time, but leaving them for any period of time is never fun.

Pray for this part of the world. People are hungry and there is much suffering. We're there to see how people are finding avenues not only to get food but to have a consistent supply of food through farming and other work. Yet, the need is still great. We're there to assess how we can develop new ways to end hunger locally and abroad.

You can also keep up with the journey. Here is where you can follow Team Malawi: 

blogging: http://30hourfamine.org/blog/ 

facebook: http://www.facebook.com/wv30hf 

twitter: @30HF 

instagram: 30HF 

God's newness is breaking into this present world despite ourselves and our sinfulness. What a privilege is it to be a hand in the Kingdom of God.

Open Up

The weekend before last, I had the privilege of taking the seniors of our student ministry for a get away trip to Chicago. We did what you do in Chicago.

Like going to Wrigley Field:

And eating at Lou Malnati's:

And observing the skyline from the top of the Hancock:

During our time in Chicago, we talked alot about the next step of their journeys, prayed together, and just relaxed without a rigid schedule. Our time in the city was awesome. But my bet is that all three of the guys would tell you it wasn't the best part of the trip. The best time of the trip would be worshipping with a small hispanic congregation in North Chicago, IL.

I have a friend from Seminary named Edward. Edward and I met in a graduate course that we took at Olivet. We both speak of it as one of the best courses we have ever taken. For any of you interested in taking a course on Pauline studies, do yourself a favor, find Troy Martin, and take the course with him. You will not regret it. Two years later, I was sitting in an NTS classroom and in walked Edward to the room.

Edward pastors a hispanic congregation in North Chicago, IL. When I began to plan this time away with our seniors, I wanted the experience to be more dynamic than simply going and consuming activity. In what I viewed as my last teaching opportunity with them, I wanted them to experience cross-cultural worship and a hospitality they have never seen before. What we ended up finding was a hospitality I had never seen before.

I had arranged with Edward that we would stay with a Belizean family from his congregation. Now I grew up only 9 miles away from the church, and it would have been very easy just to stay at my parent's house, go to church with them, and go back. We had even spent some time at my parent's house early that afternoon to rest some, and one of my students asked, "Hey why don't we just stay here." Again, I wanted them to have to have a different experience than watching movies and laying around.

On that Friday evening, we arrived at their house to drop off our things before we made our way to the church for service. Immediately, Mrs. Estrada asked us to come in a get something to eat. She had prepared for us lamb chops and oh my, they were fantastic. She said over and over to us, "You're very welcome here."

As soon as we walked into the church, we were made family. Folks came to us and welcomed us with a sincerity that I have seen as rare. One of the really neat things about their worship gatherings is that they take time to share a small meal together after the service. Even though there was a bit of a language barrier, we sat and talked with different people from the congregation for about an hour or so after the service. They made us tostadas (which were the truth). Though our language, our skin color, and our culture was different, we felt an incredible sense of belonging.

This was just the beginning. We went back and shared more time with the Estradas after church. The family dynamic was some quite foreign to us. The house consisted of Gregorio and Ada, the heads of the household, their sons, their son's wife, and a friend. Their sons, Greg and Albert, and both in their twenties. They both work, are in school, and contribute to the good of the household.

Perhaps the most profound thing about our time with them is that the next day would be their son Greg's birthday. The night before his mother mentioned that they were going to have a surprise party for him and she would like us to be a part of it. We said sure. The next day, early in the morning we there was a lot of commotion. We all slept in the basement, and at about 7:30 their son Albert woke us up to share in the surprise. They already had several friends over, and within a couple of minutes we were at Greg's bedroom door with his dad knocking on it. He knocked a few times, and out came Greg. We all then sang "Happy Birthday!"

Then there was the food. Belizean Tomalleys. They were big. And there were lots. Then came the Belizean horchata. We sat, ate, and shared conversation all morning.

I'd call it a picture of God's kingdom.

As we prepared to leave, Gregorio asked if he could pray for us as a we went on our way. We gathered in a circle and he prayed in spanish while his son Albert translated for us. It was one of the most open, graceful prayers of blessing I have ever heard.

I've never experienced strangers at a family birthday party. Culture has dictated that these times are sacred family times, and that there are limits to who can come. I left home at the age of 18, and haven't lived there for more than 2 weeks at a time since. I have always felt that if I were to live at home again, I'd be some sort of failure. In my mind, it is you grow up, you leave, and you make your own way.

Yet, love and family were valued over self-sustainability or individual endeavor. They live in the beauty of a family model that is not restricted to the nuclear family. Their friend living with them is family. They still live together as a household even when a son is married. And love compels them to open their home to a youth pastor and three students getting ready to enter college and treat them as family. That's the kingdom, and that is true hospitality.

After we said our thank yous and our goodbyes, I asked the students to reflect on staying there a bit as we drove away. The student who asked me if we could just crash at my parent's house said, "I'm so glad we came here instead of staying there. It was awesome!" I'm glad they were catching on to the incredible grace they were shown.

My hope and my prayer for myself and my students is that their lives would be open to being hospitable. In a culture were we fortress what we value, we have to learn to be open and value giving what we have to those who are in need.

Surrounded

The other night I picked up a book entitled The Story of God, The Story of Us. Now every book generally has acknowledgements, but most of us glance over them quickly in order to get into the meat of the the text and to get going with it. Somehow I got myself caught up in what Gladding called "Sleeve Notes." He recalled how he used to spend hours in his room growing up listening to CD's and reading the sleeve notes of the album over and over again to see who produced and wrote what; who played this and who played that on each song.

Gladding's sleeve notes ran through some of the significant people in his journey who had helped him become a disciple of Jesus. That night after putting the book down, I laid in bed thinking through my life and some the significant people who have helped shaped me to who I am today. I'd like to share with you my sleeve notes.

My Mom and Dad

I am so very fortunate that from the earliest moments of my life, my folks committed to an alternative lifestyle marked by following Jesus. They did what they could to show me the way of Jesus. Prayer and Scripture became part of my primary speech because they were not taught to me out of fear or dispair but out of hope and love.

Marguerite Schwartz

Marguerite...er, Mrs. Schwartz I mean (I used to get in trouble for calling her by her first name) was my Kindergarten Sunday School teacher. Though there were three of us in our little Nazarene church in Iowa, she cared deeply that we know the stories that shape the history of those who follow Christ. Though now she is resting with Jesus, the things she taught us live on.

Kay Shumaker

Kay (yes, though still impolite I called her Kay) was my 2nd grade Sunday School teacher. I still remember the day we were learning about the 10 commandments and it hit me that things I own can replace God. She taught me very basically the meaning of serving God with all our heart and putting no other gods before him. I'd like to say that my heart has not wavered since 2nd grade! But alas, I've fallen short. The truth of the matter is that without learning that lesson I might have served a whole lot more false gods than I actually have in my life. For this lesson, I'm thankful.

Vince Flippo

Pastor (I called him Pastor, not Vince) was indeed my pastor. He nicknamed me Mattman, and the name was so awesome that I put it on my first little league jersey (which, by the way, I wore through college because it was massive on me in 2nd grade. Tragically, it was lost in the travels of the summer of 2005). He was my pastor in the sense that he didn't just preach every Sunday morning at the church we happened to attend, but he knew me and cared about me--a annoying little kid with a high pitched, incredibly loud voice. Through his life, he taught me a thing or two about pastoral care. I am thankful for this.

Norma Nelson

Mrs. Nelson was my fifth grade Sunday School teacher. What I remember about being a part of that fifth grade Sunday School class (besides the fact that my first crush was also in the class) was that through the years Mrs. Nelson took us through the story of Scripture. Learning the story has shaped me. I am thankful for the time she put into preparing to teach us God's story.

Chris Miller

Chris was a youth sponsor when I entered high school. He let me drive his car. He hung out with me. He invested hours in me when he had a job and a family. Chris represents multiple adults who surrounded me and supported me through high school even though at times I was arrogant, proud, and difficult. He (and they) showed me the value of investing in the future of the church.

David Wine

Prof. Wine was a professor at Olivet that I didn't have for a class until the last semester of my senior year. Without question, he should have pounded my roommate Levi and me when we conveniently forgot an presentation we were supposed to do for his Gen. Ed. Church and Christian Living course. Instead, he responded to us with grace by simply saying, "That's not good" upon hearing the news that we were unprepared to present. Prof. Wine cared more deeply for our spiritual formation than any other professor I have encountered. He along with his wife led Nicole and I through pre-marital counseling. I am thankful for him because I know I am still in his prayers.

Keith + Judi Schwanz

My first semester of seminary was difficult. The word to best characterize it was uncertainty. I wasn't sure if it was a fit, I wasn't sure of the direction of God's call on me, it was just tough. My conversations with Keith + Judi (both who were seminary profs) were always opportunities for direction and hope. They represented, for me, the community at seminary that existed to help me, as well as other students, through the uncertainty about the future. I am thankful that they are the sort to sit with students through very difficult questions.

These people are just a sample of the network of support that has surrounded me and cared that I become a passionate disciple of Jesus Christ. Absent from this list are other mentors, pastors, family and close friends who has played a terrific role in my via salutis.

Now, it is my opportunity to have a role in the spiritual formation of young people. I care deeply that the students of our church not just have one or two people who have played significant roles in helping them to follow Jesus, but to assure that there are a network of people to show them the way. I want them to form significant, appropriate, healthy relationships that are so meaningful that when they reflect on their lives, they see God's grace through these people.

I know I have.

Maybe They Were onto Something

At Lafayette First Church of the Nazarene, we care deeply for the spiritual formation of entire families. We're formulating our goals in ministry to bring whole families into the life of Jesus Christ. As part of our discussion, my pastor shared with our church staff an article by Alan and Debra Hirsch entitled "Refocusing on the Family" from a chapter of Untamed as featured in Neue Magazine. In this article the Hirsch's claim the development of the nuclear family has been cultivated in a climate of aggressive consumerism and capitalism, and the model of the nuclear family is not congruent with that of Scripture. I was particularly struck by this comment:

Under such enormous cultural pressure and stress, families have become highly protective. They have become a fortress from the outside world--a defensive unit designed to keep the the cultural onslaughts at bay.

Because families have fortressed themselves in order to protect our cars, valuables, and things sentimental, Hirsch argues we miss out out on the chance to live out our missional mandate to be hospitable at all times. And I think he's right.

Though I don't have much, the little I do have is sentimental. The Stan Musial signed Spalding National League Baseball that my mom got when she was a kid when the St. Louis Cardinals were in Spring Training. The Ryne Sandberg Jersey and baseball he autographed for me last year. The guitar that sits in my office. Heck, even the books on my shelf. Though there's some tidiness to what I have, I'm still a hoarder.

I remember when I first learned about how the Monastics lived when I was in college. I read about their radical lifestyles; how they took vows of chastity, obedience, and poverty. Though chastity and obedience present unique challenges in themselves, I was always struck particularly by the radical nature of the vow of poverty. I had a college professor who told a story about an experience he had while completing his Ph.D. He was doing his doctoral work at a Jesuit University and his professor at the time had taken monastic orders. At one point my professor had borrowed a book from the Jesuit priest and when he took it back to give it to him he simply responded, "No, you keep it. It's your's now." He just gave it away.

Maybe its my cultural conditioning to think that when I lend something, I need it back in due time. Maybe I get worried that the things that are sentimental in my life might be taken away if I were to open up my life to being hospitable. When I think about that monk who has no face in my mind, I wonder how much easier it is for him to be hospitable when he's not really attached to anything material at all. Maybe they were onto something.

I've seen this Kingdom Hospitality in my life; Well, at least the fruit of it. When my lovely wife was growing up, her home was open to any who needed a place to be. One young lady who had it tough at home ended up spending countless weekends and entire summer's in Nicole's home. The line between "friend" and "sister" almost doesn't exist. Nicole talks to her like she's an older sister (she's 7 years older), fought with her like she's an older sister, and probably annoyed her like she's an older sister. But, the openness of Nicole's family has paid dividends beyond belief in the life of this young lady. Her life is oriented to the Kingdom.

As my family continues to develop and expand (Britton will be here any minute!), my prayer is that we'd be open to sharing God's hospitality in our home. It won't be easy--it will be a radical change of lifestyle.

A Better Proclamation

For Christmas, Nicole and I traveled to Iowa to see her parents. We spent a lot of time in the car with her folks, and car rides with the Maberry's means that K Love is on the radio. Positive. Encouraging. All those things.

The thing about K Love is that they tend play the same five songs over and over again. And, they've had a tendency to play the same five songs for I can only imagine how long (Pun intended, kids).

One song they've continued to play on every fifth play is Indescribable by Chris Tomlin. While on vacation, I probably heard this song ten to fifteen times. Chris Tomlin is really likes natural theology. He likes to look at the stars, mountains, lightning bolts, and sing about how great God is. This is commendable. These things in a sense do reflect God's creative work. No doubt.

In my time at Lafayette First Church of the Nazarene, I've learned a new song (at least new to me) that I think speaks a better proclamation. A few years ago, my pastor blogged about this song, and the words are simply terrific. As an added bonus, I believe the worship leaders at our church do this song better justice than the original!

These are the words we sang to this song during advent:

Verse 1
Who is this child asleep in the manger?
Tender and mild, this intimate Stranger?
Recklessly, wildly loving a dangerous world
Who is this light invading our darkness?
Glorious might, the sun rising for us.
Conquering night, He captures the hardest of hearts
We sing:

Chorus 1
This is our God, living and breathing
Call Him courageous, relentless, and brave
This is our God, loving and reaching,
Scandalous mercy and mighty to save.
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Sing praise.

Verse 2
Who is this One who will not condemn us?
Why would He come to shoulder our sentence?
Nothing we've done will keep Him from giving us grace.
Who is this One we watch and we're speechless?
God's only Son embracing our weakness.
He overcomes all death and he frees us to live
And we sing:

Chorus 2
This is our God, suffering and dying.
Call Him the Hero redeeming the lost.
This is our God, love sacrificing,
All that is holy, accepting our cross.
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Hallelujah! This is our God!
Sing praise.

Here's why I like this song: It is incredibly personal. While songs like Indescribable wonder about the intangible wonders of God, this song proclaims the vulnerability and reckless love of God to a broken world. We're reminded in this song that God came to live as we are; meek, humble, helpless. We're reminded that God lives, God breathes. We're reminded that God's love isn't safe; it's scandalous. Most of all, this song reminds us that we are not left in amazement because of a bolt of lightning, or that the sun shines, or that God knows the names of the stars in the sky; we are left in amazement and awe because of the suffering and dying that the holy one takes on our behalf. And that we are made free to live. These are the songs I like to sing, because its reminds me that God isn't far off. We serve a personal God who loves us.

This is our God.

Sing Praise.

What a day of rejoicing that will be!

Today has been a sad day. Nicole and I said goodbye to our dear friends, Levi and Katie Holland, who are moving to Syracuse, NY to minister to the youth of upstate New York. While we're thrilled that God is moving them to this new place in their journey, its difficult to say goodbye knowing that our paths may not cross again in the near future. Levi was my college roommate all four years, we traveled together in a PR group, went through our degree programs together, and have been through seminary together. I befriended Katie within the first month or so at Olivet, and I introduced the two. Nicole and Katie have become quite good friends too.

We've all said goodbye before--when we went away from school for summers, when we graduated, and at our weddings. But this time is different. New York and the midwest are far away from each other.

And yet this time is the same. One thing the great relationships in my life have taught me is that the finest moments we share with each other are the treasures we store up in heaven with Christ. I am thankful for my friends and what they mean to me and Nicole. Lots of people have some pipe dream of heaven where they can indulge themselves till they are blue in the face and then keep going. I anticipate the peace of the lamb who was slain filling the new heaven and new earth, where we selflessly serve and enjoy each other's presence. It will be a day of rejoicing when we all see Jesus, because it is He who unites us, makes us capable of love (both giving and receiving), and who saves us. Though today I am sad, I know joy is ahead both in this life and the life to come. Amen!

Sweet Hour of Prayer

A good hymn:

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
That calls me from a world of care,
And bids me at my Father’s throne
Make all my wants and wishes known.
In seasons of distress and grief,
My soul has often found relief
And oft escaped the tempter’s snare
By thy return, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
The joys I feel, the bliss I share,
Of those whose anxious spirits burn
With strong desires for thy return!
With such I hasten to the place
Where God my Savior shows His face,
And gladly take my station there,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
Thy wings shall my petition bear
To Him whose truth and faithfulness
Engage the waiting soul to bless.
And since He bids me seek His face,
Believe His Word and trust His grace,
I’ll cast on Him my every care,
And wait for thee, sweet hour of prayer!

Sweet hour of prayer! sweet hour of prayer!
May I thy consolation share,
Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height,
I view my home and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize;
And shout, while passing through the air,
“Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”

I have great interest in these words in this season of life. I some ways it is hard for me to agree with this hymn writer. I haven't always thought of an hour of prayer as "sweet." More appropriate ways of describing an hour of prayer for me has been frustrating, trying, boring, and wandering. Rewarding? Sometimes. Hard? Every time.

When I was in junior high/high school I was a part of a praying youth group. The two youth pastor I had always had in pray for extended periods of time on retreats and mission trips. I remember these times more than the games/activities we participated in. These were hard times were from an early age we were challenged to be disciplined to pray.

It's still hard. I struggle with the getting into a good prayer routine; finding a voice to praise, confess, and bring petition before God.

This semester I enrolled in a course were we have to pray for a whole hour a day six days of the week! My peers and I have just completed our first week of this discipline and there are many things I have learned through the course of the week. First, setting aside a whole hour to be in prayer and scripture changes the priorities of your day. Everyday I have to think about how I am going to spent 1/24th of it in prayer, and how I have to plan the rest of my day around it. Hopefully these things will eventually become habit. The second thing I have learned is that the time spent with God at the beginning of the day reminds me of his presence throughout the entire day. It is incredibly convicting. Already I have had to submit to a spirit of confession as I see my sinfulness in light of the Lord as He is with me through the day.

So, while I might not have always thought of an hour of prayer as sweet, I am trying to put myself in place where I will "taste and see that the Lord is good" (Ps. 34:8). I suppose we would be at fault to separate our prayer life from the other aspects of the Via Salutis. Part the struggle of figuring out how to pray is a means by which God sanctifies us. The sweetness is the joy of the journey.