I've moved.

Hey Kids.

I've moved blog sites. I'm on tumblr now.

http://mbpollock.tumblr.com/

This blog just feel a bit too clunky for me. Hopefully I'll be motivated to put more content on there. We'll see.

Thanks.

Jesus is Lord and _______ is not

Each time our student ministry gathers mid-week, we try to retell the story of God's redemption through the things we do. We enter in together through games, laughter, and songs of praise. We confess and pray that we are sinners and we need God. We share good news through the Word and testimony. We respond based on the grace from the word. We bless each other as we prepare to go on our own ways.

We plot our worship. And with students, plotting worship can be avenues for extreme creativity to remind them of God's story of redemption.

I took a bit of a risk when planning this year by committing several Wednesday nights to the book of Revelation. Because of the comic book like images John the Seer presents, the book becomes difficult to minds that are moving from concrete thought to abstraction. Also, the pessimism of a subculture obsessed with the so-called "End Times" that has produced such media as Thief in the Night, The Late Great Planet Earth, and Left Behind, has placed a connotation of fear on this text. It really is a shame because the beauty of Revelation is that through all its strange images and warnings, it is a wonderful spring of hope for the people of God.

Last week, we spent some time in Revelation 13:1-10. After playing a game, singing some songs, and praying, I read from Psalm 137 as part of the confession/bad news stage of the plot:

By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept

     when we remembered Zion.

The strange thing about the people of God--we're a people who been bullied, pushed around, taken captive, enslaved, exiled. First under Egypt, and after not being able to get our act together as a kingdom, Assyria in the north. Then Babylon in the south. Then Persia. Then Greece. And finally when the words of Revelation were penned, Rome.  The words of this Psalm are the most raw in the Bible about how nasty it can get. The Psalmist laments how horrible it is living under the rule of someone else and is pinning for home.

I wonder if this is how students feel. They've undergone systemic abandonment. They are left without a place many of the times. They can be surrounded with people, technology, and numerous possessions and still lack community, authenticity, and joy. Empires constantly are enslaving them while at the same time telling them the lie that they can't live without them. 

So too was it for the people of God called "Christian" when John described this beast. This beast was strong, way stronger than the ones Daniel speaks about. In fact, John kinda takes all of the qualities of those beasts and reshapes them into the one that the Dragon calls out of the sea. This is the super beast. This beast has gone to another level. We'll call this level beastmode.

The beastmode serves as a foil to the one who is the center of this beautiful text: the Lamb who was Slain. It too has a mortal wound but somehow miraculously lives. It too is given power authority. It too marks its followers. In fact, when people see it, they just point and say, "Who is like the beast?!?! Who can challenge it?!?!"

Who can challenge Rome? Who can challenge its military strength? Who can challenge its technology?

But as John is writing these words it is like he's drawing a political cartoon. Though the beast poses as the Lamb who was Slain, he is a counterfeit, a fake, and false.

Though Rome may promise "peace" all they would bring was a sword. Though the may promise financial security, the wealth funnels to the top. Though the emperor posits himself as a God, he is not the author of life and the creator of all things. 

The problem for Christian at this time wasn't that they worship the God of Israel and that they believed Jesus was the Son of God. Religious plurality was rampant through the Roman Empire. Worship whoever, just pay homage to Caesar. And the homage wasn't limited to a temple. It was in the marketplace and in any social setting. The problem Christians faced was that in saying "Jesus is Lord" they were also implying that "Caesar is not." For this, they were putting their lives on the line.

But even though the hand of the empire is strong, even though the beast has gone into beastmode, it's still just a parody of the one true God. It tries to play God, but eventually it crumbles. The Lamb is still the center of all things, and it is by his blood that the saints and the people of God, who have always lived on the margins, will overcome. 

John has to remind the church of this:

“Here is a call for the endurance and faith of the saints” (13:10).

To respond to this, we offered students the chance to confess, "Jesus is Lord" while explicitly naming the things that are not. Here's how they filled in the blanks:

• Jesus is Lord, and my self-doubt is not
• Jesus is Lord, and the pretty popular girls are not
• Jesus is Lord, and the world & its influences are not
• Jesus is Lord, and technology is not
• Jesus is Lord, and fear is not
• Jesus is Lord, and money is not
• Jesus is Lord, and my phone is not
• Jesus is Lord, and the bully is not
• Jesus is Lord, and my hurt is not

The list went on. And it goes on. We need to be reminded constantly. Jesus is Lord, and _____ is not.

Abundance and Scarcity

Transformation comes to us in many different ways. Entire behaviors can be changed for the better. A vexing physical ailment can behealed. For me, I’ve undergone a transformation of knowledge in my head tobelief in my heart. This happened to me while I was with a team of awesome people in Malawi a couple of weeks ago.

One of the most profound articles I have read is by a world class Old Testament author named Walter Brueggemann. The article is entitled “A Liturgy of Abundance and the Myth of Scarcity.” In it, Brueggemann traces through the narrative of Scripture showing how when God created everything good, he created everything in abundance. The abundance of God’s creation is exemplified in the ability of God’s creation to pro-create; two become one and bear children, flowers and plants pollinate, birds of the air nest and fish ofthe sea spawn. God created this space for us to fill it up. There will always be enough of what God has deemed “very good.”

Brueggemann then points out a crisis that occurs in Genesis 47. Prior to this point in the narrative, the blessing of God in creation is evident in all the work of God’s people. When the threat of famine hits the land, the powers that be react in fear, and hoard all available goods. They operate under the myth of scarcity—that there will never be enough, so they must take everything.

The beauty of the Scriptures is that the reveal the world for what it is. This story captures what has happened because of sin.The world has operated under the myth of scarcity’s dominion. It has pervaded our economies. It drives fear. It has made the rich richer and the poor poorer.

Before going to Malawi, I understood the theological assertion that God has created in abundance. I’ve studied it. I took specific courses in Seminary on Theology of Creation. Opening to the front page of the BBC, CNN, the Huffington Post, and Fox News all share the same story regardless of political stance: our world operates under the myth of scarcity. I knew it. It was obvious. I’ve always been able to recognize the conflict between the two.

If there has been anyone who has suffered under the myth of scarcity, it is the rural poor in Malawi. Shortly before my trip, my good friend Bryan recommended a book to me, “The Boy who Harnessed the Wind.” This is a story about a boy William who grew up very poor in a rural area in Northern Malawi near the town of Kasungu (We actually passed through Kasungu on our way to Mzimba, where the Area Development Projects are). I was so glad I read this story before going because it gave tremendous insight into rural life in Malawi: how the rainy season lasts from December to February, how the staple crop of Malawi is maize, and from maize they make their staple food nsima.

He also was able to share how horrible things were during a famine that took place right after the turn of the century. The rains never came that December that year. Malawi had a great government program set up incase this would ever happen where each year farmers would sell their surplus to the agency and it would be kept should a famine come to sell back to the famers. However, corruption in the government led officials to sell off the surplus for personal gain to surrounding countries. The price of maize thus skyrocketed, leaving the rural poor much poorer than they had been before. 

William recalls the pains of starvation. He tells of how he raced to Kasungu and was nearly trampled when the maize became available. He remembers each day only having a pinch of nsima.

This is what happens when people believe that there isn't enough so they have to take it all. They have to hoard the goods. They have to sell off the extra so that they make the profit. This is not the world that God has created.

We who are fortunate to have everything we need are constantly tempted to fall into this myth of scarcity. But it wasn’t until I stood on the red dirt in Malawi, staring up at a huge basket overflowing with maize that I believed in my heart that our God has created in abundance. It was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. I had to look it up later, but this is the verse that comes to mind thinking about seeing the full storehouses:

The LORD will open the heavens, the storehouse of his bounty, to send rain on your land in season and to bless all the work of your hands. (Deuteronomy 28:12).

When I saw the baskets full of maize, I swear I was staring at the storehouses of heaven.

These people who most likely have suffered starvation notonly have food, but also now have food to sustain them. The farmers, their families, the orphans they watch after, and their entire villages have created avenues for lasting income and storehouses that will last for them through famines. They are loaned livestock and whatever offspring is produced they pass on to the next village. It’s a generosity you only see in the Kingdom of God.

I am so thankful for the partnership between World Vision and Nazarene Compassionate Ministries. They together have brought good news to these people by way of connecting the church to lasting food security projects. Organizations like these work towards the abundance that God has infused into this creation and away from the scarcity the brokenness of our sin has perpetuated.

We need to be reminded often of the truth of God’s abundance. Over and over again we need to undergo a transformation of simple knowledge in our head to belief in our heart.

I read this morning from Mark 8:14-21, which provides asummary of Jesus trying to get this message through the dense heads of his disciples:

¹⁴ The disciples had forgotten to bring bread, except for one loaf they had with them in the boat. ¹⁵ “Be careful,” Jesus warned them. “Watch out for the yeast of the Pharisees and thatof Herod.” ¹⁶ They discussed this with one another and said, “It is because we have no bread.” ¹⁷ Aware oftheir discussion, Jesus asked them: “Why are you talking about having no bread? Do you still not see or understand? Are your hearts hardened?¹⁸ Do you have eyes but fail to see, and ears but fail to hear? And don’t you remember? ¹⁹ When I broke the five loaves for the five thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?” “Twelve,” they replied. ²⁰ “And when I broke the seven loaves for the four thousand, how many basketfuls of pieces did you pick up?” They answered, “Seven.” ²¹ He said to them, “Do you still not understand?”

The yeasts of the Pharisees and of Herod sell off the surplus when famine comes. Our hearts are hardened as Pharaoh’s was when our lifestyles enslave others. We forget that God has delivered us out of the lifeof slavery and into the life of freedom. The abundance of God’s creation is always enough for his people—twelve baskets are left after the feeding of the 5,000 representing the wholeness of the twelve tribes of Israel. Seven baskets are left over after Jesus feeds 4,000. This represents God’s provision for all of creation. Jesus reveals to us the heart of God the creator through the sacrament of breaking bread and sharing it. God has given us enough to sustain this world. Will we choose to understand?

Yearning for Adoption

Around Mother's Day this year, I was flipping through photos on Instagram and one made me stop just before I was about to swipe the screen to continue scrolling. Friends of mine that I have only had loose contact with at best for the last couple of years posted a photo of a boy they are in the process of adopting from Haiti. The boy's name is Andy, and in the photo he is smiling from ear to ear. Also captured in the photo is a mother's day card he had sent to his mother Jen. In my heart, I could only imagine the spectrum of emotion that card would bring. With no doubt, tremendous joy would accompany it. To know receive a token of love from a new child would be such an amazing gift. At the same time, thousands of miles currently separate the family. Andy is their son, but he isn't home yet. I was heartbroken for them.

Around the same time as I first saw this instagram picture, I was working on sharing some reflections on Romans 8:22-27 with my students. Here's the text:

22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as son, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is een is no hope at all. Who hopes for what he already has? 25But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently. 26 In the same way, 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. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints in accordance with God's will.

In a sense, we're all awaiting adoption. We're groaning for it--the land longs for it--all of creation is yearning for it. We desperately long for a world put to rights by God--a world where mercy and justice reign--a world that our vocabulary doesn't quite contain. We lack the words we need to really describe that longing. Yet, when I see a picture of Andy smiling and giving mother's day love, I get somewhat of a grip on it. But even so our prayers for newness sometimes don't seem like enough.

As I prepared for the trip to Malawi with the World Vision/NCM team, I really had no idea what to expect. I was asked to lead a small devotion for the team during the week, and this Scripture immediately came to mind. I knew that ahead of us on the journey would be images and sights that would be difficult to process, so to this Scripture I turned.

I shared with the group Andy's story about groaning for adoption. We reflected about some of the things we saw in the first few days of our visit; forests that had been decimated by arsonists, children running though rock and dirt barefoot, and one in nine or one in ten of the persons we encountered as living with either HIV or Aids. One the other hand, images flooded our minds of water springing up from new wells, noises of livestock and chicken in the villages, and sights of beautiful greens as corn, onions, and beans were growing. The land is groaning for redemption; the land is being made new.

I directed the group to intercessory prayer. The reason I love the Romans 8:22-27 passage so much is because of the hope we have in a Spirit that is able to speak the language of prayer that our words cannot utter no matter how hard we try. I urged everyone just to lift up a name or an experience from the day in the area development projects without giving many more words to it. After each request was presented, we followed the simple liturgy, 'Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy'. In this practice of prayer, we let the Spirit fill in the words we didn't know how to speak.

As we were heading home, I had a serendipitous encounter that I now view as a grace from God. Our flight from Lilongwe to Addis had been delayed, and we worried we were going to miss the flight back to Washington, DC. Upon arrival, we learned that they had held the flight and were waiting for us to board. We rushed through from one gate to the next, breathing a deep sigh because we would make the journey home as planned. I found my seat, plopped down and looked to my right. In that moment I saw one of the most joyous things I have ever seen. There sat a new mother and a new father who were bringing home their adopted child for the first time. In there faces was excitement, nerves, exhaustion, and incredible relief. Through the flight, we shared a bit of conversation. Eric and Carol (from Minneapolis) had been on this journey to adopt for three years. Their son (whose name started with a 'B' and ended with a 'lou'...I wish I could remember it exactly) is 20 months old and came from an orphanage in southern Ethiopia. He was so good on the flight. Finally their longing to have a child of their own had come to fruition.

Often as I sat trying to pass the hours until we were back in the states, I'd look over and just give a half smile. Coming home for Eric and Carol presents a whole new list of challenges but a joy that is greater. When we were getting ready to land I had to tell them: 'I don't know you all, but I just want you to know that I am so happy for you'.

I have joy because as difficult as it is to believe sometimes, God is in the process of adopting us into sonship (and daughtership). One day the adoption will be made complete. Our bodies will be transformed. In the meantime, we who are awaiting our adoption have the opportunity to do things on this earth that are a foretaste of the great adoption that is to come. We care for the marginalized. We take in the orphan. We investigate ways to preserve what God has created. 

And in the meantime our prayers are carried by the Spirit who gives better words to them than might ever be able to conjure. 

Thanks be to God.

Note: The Capozzi Family is still awaiting the adoption of their son Andy to come through. Please join with their family in prayer as they long for him to come home.

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.

The Living Word, Written and Spoken

I believe in God's word.

I believe it is living and active. Sharper than a double edge sword. The author of Hebrews could not have described better how the word pierces the convictions of the heart.

I'm thinking lately...what is God's word? Pretty simple, right? The scriptures. Easy answer, but what makes the scriptures God's word? Is God's word solely the scriptures?

As I have thought about this over the last year of studying I cannot but help to conclude that when we read the scriptures what makes them authoritative is not by virtue of its tradition, but by the unique way that God continues to unravel salvation history through them. The history of the Israelites, the Jews, and early Christians has become my history. God still speaks through the scriptures not because an oracle simply wrote down ancient Hebrew and Greek words thousands of years ago, but because God still reveals his purposes through his scriptures today. I now find a literal interpretation of the text problematic because of the tendency to place more trust in the scriptures themselves than the Lord who speaks through the scriptures. Our reading of the scriptures must be regarded as sacramental.

And this is half of the story

More than anything lately I have begun to pay careful attention to the messages that I've heard on sunday mornings. I have realized something very important: the difference between preaching and teaching. Perry Downs is right. One of the things that I learned from Dr. Franklin at Olivet is that the Kerygma really is one of the unofficial sacraments of the post-reformation church. So now I regard preaching as important as the reading of the word, because God speaks through preaching. Whereas teaching may be instructive and useful, preaching is different because it calls for change, sacrifice, comfort, and repentance. Understanding this simple distinction now will be very foundational for me as someday I'll have to preach God's word. I think Brian Kay really hits it on the head when he question, "did Jesus Christ have to die on the Cross in order for this message to be preached?"

Praise be to God for all the ways he still reveals his purposes!

School's out

School is over, and it never felt so good.

This was one of the most difficult semesters I have had throughout my scholastic career. Even at Olivet, the graduate level is significantly more strenuous than the undergraduate. Multiple factors play in: getting married, three jobs, paying bills, and making time for people around me. Not to mention I didn't hardly exercise or eat right, this semester took a toll on my "gauges" as Prof. Wine would say.

Regardless of how difficult it may have been, I learned a whole heck of a lot.

1. The Bible (specifically the New Testament, even more specifically Paul, and even more than that the letters that we actually know without question that Paul wrote) greatly utilizes the various inventions of rhetoric. I had a class with Troy Martin, who I am convinced knows just about everything there is to know about Paul and his letters, on the uses of rhetoric in Paul's letters. By seeing his different usages of rhetorical proofs (logos, ethos, pathos) and other various rhetorical devices in Paul's letters, I will never read them the same again. Also, I am now aware of the variegated rhetorical situations we face daily. People are very good at using rhetoric, and they can also be very manipulative.

2. I am not an open theist. It seemed appealing at first, but the evidence I've found leads me to believe that open theism's nature is reactionary to a specific strand of the Christian faith, and I just don't know that I need to "go there" in order to have a proper understanding of God. I do not, however, think that it is necessarily outside of the trajectory of faith. It is based more off a philosophical presupposition (God's relation to time and the created order) than a theological assertion (God has to be x in order to do y). This does not mean that I am closed to learning more about or investigating more fully the concept of open theism--just right now I am content with being a good old fashion Arminian.

3. Studying ethics is interesting. I still am unsure of how I would even define ethics; where they come from and how they derive I still have no conclusion. It was interesting this semester, however, to see the changes and different forms of ethics throughout the 20th century. What I have found to be the defining era of the 20th century was WW2. I'm sure few would disagree with that. How the incredibly diverse aspects of that war play into the different views of ethics is astounding. Even still, the best metaphor to describe the ethics throughout the 20th century would be a pendulum. It is easy to see how one ethicist reacted against another ethicist, and then back again, and so forth. Really interesting.

This is just a tip of the iceberg of things I learned. I hope the process continues where I am able to continue to build on the different things I know.

Now I just might watch some TV for a while.

Cavity

Today I got my first cavity filling. Dagum. 22 years strong without one. Now that day has come and gone. Though it is probably common knowledge that I don't take care of my teeth that well, they have always been strong and haven't let me down when I go to the doctor. This time was not the case. I gave the 'ole "yeah, yeah, I know" when they told me to floss more, but to my surprise they said, "uh oh, we gotta fill this one in the back".

Cavities are quite the remarkable little phenomenon. I heard a long time ago that the teeth are the strongest bones in the body. Well, all that sugar, bacteria, and rotting food that just sits in our teeth and wears through the enamel and then all the way to the root. You're really sorry out of luck if your nerve gets exposed. Ouch! I'd rather get the shot of novacain. Amazing that food can do that. It just makes me wonder what kind of dental problems Jesus had. They didn't have any fluoride in the water and had few means of taking care of their teeth. He probably had a tooth ache or two. Simple things like this remind me of his humanity even though he is the fullness of God.

Anyway, novocain is an interesting thing. It pinches when they shoot you with it. Then slowly my face felt fatter, and fatter, and fatter. You have to kill time while it takes effect. While it was settling in I got to tell the doctor how the Nazarene Church came out of the Methodist movement, and that it follows the theology of John Wesley. He just basically wanted to know what I am in school for. After I ran it down for him, I realized the whole left side of my face was gone. Couldn't move it if you paid me. He then started drilling.

The whole thing wasn't that bad of a process. I used to fear the doctor with all of my being. Now, I say, "bring it on doc!" Let's see if that hold up if I get a kidney stone next...

Maybe I'll start flossing more.

Adventures in the OT

When's the last time you've seriously read parts of the Old Testament?

I've been thinking a lot about the Old Testament for the last couple of days. Let me just premise this post by saying that I have spent almost all of my Bible reading time so far this year in the Old Testament, and this mostly is a result of the fact that I set a goal of reading the entire Word in one year. So far, I've found it pretty interesting. Here are a few of the things I've been going over.

1. If we don't believe that Israel is the beacon for the world, then we are sorely mistaken. I've found through reading the different accounts of the history of Israel that almost every mistake that the Israelites made is continually repeated through the course of history. So, as God ordained Israel as the nation for all the world to know him through the promise of Abraham, so to all the world realizes their shortcomings through the example of Israel as well. Pretty interesting.

2. I've been reading through "The Bible Jesus Read" by Philip Yancey (shout out to Levi here for an excellent groomsman gift) and finding that it is in the OT where we learn how to live. The NT is great for instruction, but even Paul says that all scripture is useful for teaching, correction and rebuking (2 Timothy 3:16), he is referring not to his own words but the different accounts of the poetry and narrative found in the OT. In other words, it is the OT where narrative theology is developed--an invitation to join into the story of salvation. (For great reading about this particular topic, check out Brian Walsh, J. Richard Middleton, and Lesslie Newbigin)

3. It's just plain interesting. Some of its weird, but like Kierkagaard says, "just act on what you understand". I'm finding it to be an amazing adventure I get myself wrapped into.

I'm getting through the Proverbs right now. I've learned some good words of wisdom such as gluttony being equated with drunkenness, but I shall save that for another post.

I enjoy reading responses!

mp

Speak no evil

Lately I've learned the power of the spoken word.

I live in a place where it seems that gossip is all people care about. I know this is true for the whole world--just look at the magazine rack when checking out at the local grocery store. It's all about "Britney's in rehab again", "Paris only got arrested four times last month", "Lindsey found in a dark alley wearing a toga", and "Tom impregnated Kate with an alien through the power of scientology". Ok, so the last one may be a bit of an embellishment, but I wouldn't put it past them. I even have a friend who at his work they have "fantasy US weekly" that is managed just like a fantasy football league, where each person gets a certain amount of points for guessing who is on the cover and who gets the spotlight stories. A bit over the top for those who get really into it.

My point with all this said is that our culture is obsessed with the actions of other people, especially when the actions have no direct effect on the persons not involved. Lack of involvement makes it better! To seperate oneself and be able to say, "wow, i'm glad my life isn't that crappy" and then move one with their day apathetically is the best case senario!

This is bad.

What makes this worse is that we cannot escape the "personal interest" people take in others. It is not something that the common folk only look into Hollywood for, it happens everywhere.

I had facebook for a while, and it was pretty fun to have. I was able to catch up with old friends, see different people that I hadn't seen in ages from places I had lived, and post funny things on my friends "walls". I found that after a while though that facebook was becoming big brother. At any point, I could see my friends last actions when they were online, and it would even tell me when they were sitting at their computer. A bit out of hand if you ask me. Within an instant you can know who's dating who, when people break up, and other little things that only reveal to the heart gossip, not a cause for deep concern. (I don't want to judge those who use facebook still, I just am stating for myself it got out of hand).

I am ashamed of how many times I have indulged myself in what I shall call this "impersonal interest". When speaking about people, it is often to know the dirt. I feel like Aunt Bea and Miss Clara gossiping with the ladies at the Mayberry drug store. This "impersonal interest" has also vexed the campus I live on. It isn't long before people have nothing more insightful to ask than to immediately move on to talking about other people. It is strange how this can come along with good intentions as well. For instance:
"man you really got to pray for Jack and Audrey"
"oh gosh what happened?"
"wellllllll, i really shouldn't go into it but..."
And so forth.

Crazy how sin can intrude on the most innocent of things! How can I change my "impersonal interest" to authentic "personal interest"?

The scriptures have shed some light on this thing we as a culture struggle with so much. It seems that the audience of the epistle writers dealt with the same issues. James gets kinda harsh speaking about the tongue: "The tongue also is a fire, a world of evil among the parts of the body. It corrupts the whole person, sets the whole course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell" (3:6). Woah. Another way the scriptures reveal to us what we are really made of. It is another way of seeing how hurtful our words can be. They have the potential to build high, but also to bury deep.

I guess the only way to live within the truth of this text is to simply shut up. When we decide to listen and engage rather than long hear and speak for fulfullment, we just might be able to take "personal interest". I'm gonna try to do so, and there's a long road ahead. Anyone wanna go with me? We might learn something about each other.

I think I can hear him

Today, I pondered how in the world I was ever going to finish the work that lies ahead of me for the rest of the semester. I think about times where I can escape to read different material, where I can write, and where I can think about what I am learning and apply it to the various facets of life.

Today, I was reminded of the suffering around us. I get isolated here at school, turning the ideas about what I learn into idolatry and not realizing that they are insignificant as people around me suffer and are filled with pain.

Today, a friend from high school told me that the brother of one of our friends suddenly passed away a few days ago. It simply started with a sinus infection, then meningitis, and then a brain tumor. The whole ordeal was very sudden and unexpected. But then again, when do we ever expect this sort of thing. My heart sank when I heard his because their dad passed away about ten years ago. How is it possible that so much affliction could come to one family?

Today, the question was begged of how bad things could possibly happen to good people. My friend’s family has looked to God through the past pains, they go to church, and it is incomprehensible how my friend’s mom could endure the loss of both a husband and a son. How could God let this happen?

Today, I thought of what is in my opinion one of the greatest literary works of the 20th century--“Night” by Elie Wiesel. I would think it would be hard to find a more detailed and descriptive account of the horrors that took place during the Holocaust. It is cold, dark, and chilling, but still I think is a must read. The underlying question Wiesel poses is always “where is God?”. Perhaps one of the most profound insights does not come for his text, but comes from the forward.

And how many devout Jews endured such a death? On that most horrible day, even among those other bad days, when the child witnessed the hanging (yes!) of another child who, he tells us, had the face of a sad angel, he heard someone behind him groan:
“For God’s sake, where is God?”
And within me, i heard a voice answer:
“Where He is? This is where--hanging from this gallows.”

And I who believe that God is love, what answer was there to give my young interlocutor whose dark eyes still held the reflection of the angelic sadness that had appeared one day on the face of a hanged child? What did I say to Him? Did I speak to him of that other Jew, this crucified brother who perhaps resembled him of that other Jew, this crucified brother who perhaps resembled him and whose cross conquered the world? Did I explain to him that what had been a stumbling block for
his faith had become a cornerstone for mine? And that the connection between the cross and human suffering remain, in my view, the key to the unfathomable mystery in which the faith of his childhood was lost? And yet, Zion has risen up again out of the crematoria and the slaughterhouses. The Jewish nation has been resurrected from among its thousands of dead. It is they who have given it new life. we do not know the worth of one single drop of blood, one single tear. All is grace. If the Almighty is the Almighty, the last word for each of us belongs to Him. That is what I should have said to the Jewish child. But all I could do was embrace him and weep.

Today, as I think about Jesus, the only image that came to mind was the Christ who weeps. He knows our suffering. He hangs in the gallows alongside those he loves. I think I can hear him.

Here we go...

This is my third try at blogging. The first few I just gave up on. Perhaps I’ll like this format and we’ll keep with it.

I’m currently listening to Bill Hybels sermon series from 1984 on the book of James. The first one was incredibly interesting for me; James urges his brothers and sisters to see trials as joy. Hybels in his sermon remarks that they should become for the who follow Christ “allies”. I find this so interesting because of the hardships inside my head that I’ve had over the last year.

As I have faced depression, I have found that has affected every part of me. The trough of the depression is far passed but I still feel the effects like the aftershock of a earthquake. For instance, it is merely 6:03 in the evening right now and I feel as if I could go get in bed and sleep until morning. I nap often; usually going 2-3 hours every other couple of days.

So the circumstance that seems to be bugging me most is my lethargy. I want to hang out, but sometimes I just feel I need to go to bed.

Today I as listened to Bill I realized that over the last year as I have been sick I have not really embraced depression and now fatigue as an ally. Let me explain. In his epistle, James says that the through adversity and trial we learn to persevere. For most of my life I was so afraid of doing something wrong for myself or others that it all boiled into a breaking of my will. I had to consecrate these things to God, letting go and give everything to him: tangible and intangible. In short, the old me died one year ago. I know this is strong language but it is true.

The crazy thing is that I’m not sure how I would have any of it be different. The message I heard today put adequate words to what I was going through, and I have persevered and am continuing to persevere through it. It has been the only way that I may build character.

My challenge: to continue to seek God and he has first sought and loved me. My character is on the line, and I must embrace and make the trials I go through an ally. I also want to encourage any who have trials to share what they are going through. As we all experience life together, sometimes we need to pray for those who can’t pray themselves through. It’s through those sorts of prayers that I’ve stayed sane.