"So deeply do we care for you that we are determined to share with you not only the gospel of God but also our own selves, because you have become very dear to us." Paul, 1 Thessalonians 2.8
Paul's words are unsettling, because they point to something more than the transaction of ministry... Community.
Community means authentic relationship with other Christians held together in the bond of faith in Jesus Christ and given freedom to grow through the power of the Spirit. Community, then, is an interesting prospect, rewarding and enriching, yet painful and difficult. It is NOT easy, for there are no quick answers, no readily accepted formulae or proscription for how it ought to be. No, there is merely a simple description of mutual presence, shared love, and the mystery of intimacy in the presence of God.
And though we all long to give our hearts to each other in true community, we hesitate. We tiptoe in fear, close in proximity perhaps, but ever reluctant to cross the threshold of deeper relationship. What does it take? Intention for certain, coupled with desire, and springing from a knowledge of our own need for mutual fellowship. But more...
It takes vulnerability--extending our hearts to be held by another. Oh, what danger there may be here! We shudder to think of our naked souls on display for others to see. Will they scrutinize? Will they laugh? Cringe with disgust? It's a risky and formidable endeavor.
It takes an appreciation for candor--willing to give and take words of truth as we seek to sharpen each other in Christ. We all would like to hear an encouraging word, but raw truth is needed as well. The plain, curt, abrupt truth may feel like it rips through our insecurities, ravaging our souls. But, the healing that comes after the initial pain is life transforming. Oh, how few people really speak truth into another's heart, much less are willing to receive it.
It takes patience--a realization that community is a painfully long endeavor. Once we enter the realm of genuine relationship, we realize we are not as complete as we might like to appear to others. We don't have it all in our hands, and we are not in control. And that's OK! We don't need to be. Hence the purpose of community. We find our completeness in the process of growing together. We are the Body of Christ--one body, many members--synergistically growing together. Christian maturity means relying on each other for wholeness, meted out over a lengthy process of sharing in the mutual love of friends and Christ, tested over time and confirmed by the labor of love.
How, O Lord, do we experience this community in a society that does not value relationships? In a world of transitory lives, beset by easily shifted commitments and selfish, consumer-minded values? In a culture of quick fixes and the pleasure of momentary happiness, which eschews long term fulfillment and deep love?
And how, O Lord, do I in the context of ministry, do as Paul has done... How do I pour out not only the good news of your amazing love, but also myself to others in deep friendships?
Stepping forward,
JON
Friday, May 25, 2007
Friday, May 18, 2007
Restoration Takes Time
"Restore our fortunes, O Lord,
like the watercourses in the Negeb.
May those who sow in tears
reap with shouts of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
carrying their sheaves."
(Psalm 126)
This psalm has blessed me this week in a couple of ways...
First, by praying this psalm, I have felt a certain solidarity with its author. Empathizing with his struggle in prayer, I find great similarity in how we approach God. In the midst of a prayer to God, the psalmist moves from petition to God (Restore our fortunes) to stating a possible outcome (May those who sow...), as if hopeful yet uncertain, to declaring how things in fact will be (Those who go out... shall come home...). It's almost as if the author has a bit of hesitation at first. Yet, as the prayer continues, his feet become firmly planted on God's promise and providence.
In our recent change of appointment, I have experienced this. Though I submitted my name for reappointment, I did not want to leave St. Paul (where I am presently), and I was angry with God about taking us from a church and people we have grown to love. In fact, at the close of our Ash Wednesday service two months ago, the concluding hymn was "Have Thine Own Way Lord." Frozen in anger and pain, I could not sing it. In talking with one of the saints of our church, I asked her for prayer: "Sue, though I have peace in knowing I am doing the right thing, I do not have peace that God will take care of me." However, as I continued to step forward in faith, I was affirmed of God's provision for my well-being in ministry. It was like stepping into a thick fog. I could not see beyond my immediate steps, yet every time I moved forward the lay of the land became clearer and my confidence in God's promise grew.
Second, I was blessed by the helpful image of planting and harvest. How long does it take to plant a crop, see it grow, watch it yield, then harvest it? It takes a good bit of time! Yet, this is the promise of God, according to this psalmist: restoration takes time. Experiencing the fullness of God's blessings is not instantaneous. Joy comes at the price of patience, long-suffering, tear-filled prayer and devotion.
When it comes to God's transforming work, the image I would like to see in the bible is the overnight express. "God, if you don't mind, just FedEx me. That way, I can wake up in the morning and all my problems be solved." But God doesn't seem to work this way. The road to wholeness has no express lane. It takes time! Someone once told me, "Tears are prayers falling into God's loving hands." So often I want uninvolved eradication of my sins. Just rip it out of me, so I can get on with my life. Yet, God wants something different. He wants tears of radical emptying, so we can be filled with His nourishing grace. He wants knees that continually buckle before the cross in heart-throbbing pangs, so we can abound in the joy of His resurrection. He wants us to experience it all, not for the sake of watching us writhe in pain, but so we may find our wholeness through our pain in the beauty of his perfect presence and touch.
Sowing in tears; reaping with joy!
JON
like the watercourses in the Negeb.
May those who sow in tears
reap with shouts of joy.
Those who go out weeping,
bearing the seed for sowing,
shall come home with shouts of joy,
carrying their sheaves."
(Psalm 126)
This psalm has blessed me this week in a couple of ways...
First, by praying this psalm, I have felt a certain solidarity with its author. Empathizing with his struggle in prayer, I find great similarity in how we approach God. In the midst of a prayer to God, the psalmist moves from petition to God (Restore our fortunes) to stating a possible outcome (May those who sow...), as if hopeful yet uncertain, to declaring how things in fact will be (Those who go out... shall come home...). It's almost as if the author has a bit of hesitation at first. Yet, as the prayer continues, his feet become firmly planted on God's promise and providence.
In our recent change of appointment, I have experienced this. Though I submitted my name for reappointment, I did not want to leave St. Paul (where I am presently), and I was angry with God about taking us from a church and people we have grown to love. In fact, at the close of our Ash Wednesday service two months ago, the concluding hymn was "Have Thine Own Way Lord." Frozen in anger and pain, I could not sing it. In talking with one of the saints of our church, I asked her for prayer: "Sue, though I have peace in knowing I am doing the right thing, I do not have peace that God will take care of me." However, as I continued to step forward in faith, I was affirmed of God's provision for my well-being in ministry. It was like stepping into a thick fog. I could not see beyond my immediate steps, yet every time I moved forward the lay of the land became clearer and my confidence in God's promise grew.
Second, I was blessed by the helpful image of planting and harvest. How long does it take to plant a crop, see it grow, watch it yield, then harvest it? It takes a good bit of time! Yet, this is the promise of God, according to this psalmist: restoration takes time. Experiencing the fullness of God's blessings is not instantaneous. Joy comes at the price of patience, long-suffering, tear-filled prayer and devotion.
When it comes to God's transforming work, the image I would like to see in the bible is the overnight express. "God, if you don't mind, just FedEx me. That way, I can wake up in the morning and all my problems be solved." But God doesn't seem to work this way. The road to wholeness has no express lane. It takes time! Someone once told me, "Tears are prayers falling into God's loving hands." So often I want uninvolved eradication of my sins. Just rip it out of me, so I can get on with my life. Yet, God wants something different. He wants tears of radical emptying, so we can be filled with His nourishing grace. He wants knees that continually buckle before the cross in heart-throbbing pangs, so we can abound in the joy of His resurrection. He wants us to experience it all, not for the sake of watching us writhe in pain, but so we may find our wholeness through our pain in the beauty of his perfect presence and touch.
Sowing in tears; reaping with joy!
JON
Friday, May 11, 2007
Our Morning
Have you ever walked in someone else's shoes? Here is an email I sent to Heather two years ago. She was away at a women's retreat, and I was holding down the fort with Noah and Daniel, who were 3 yrs and 2 yrs respectively. Heather kept the email and reminded me of it recently.
H,
Daniel woke up at 7.30, then riding the horse with Lone Ranger tune blaring. He helped me shave and shower, then tried to get in shower when I was done. Breakfast was ok, just cereal. "Where's moma?" I woke Noah up at 8.30, dressed and to breakfast. Daniel had the last of the miniwheats, so Noah was mad. Managed to serve him Honey Oats, but he didn't want almonds, so picked most of them out and placed on table. Daniel threw his bowl on the floor, after I was in my suit trousers, milk everywhere, daddy yelling, Daniel in naughty chair. Both of us said 'sorry'. "Where's moma?" Then time for diaper change. Grainy poop, 12 wet wipes, "bright!", wiggly boy resisting and getting very mad (surprise). We managed to get in van with everything but lunch... Ooops! No bread... Ooops again! So, we went to United Grocery Store, bought lunchables, took vanilla wafers for bribery and both boys were fine. In van ride, I confused Noah's 'lunch' for 'watch', he didn't like that at all. "Where's moma?" Got to Mother's Day Out OK. Whew! Went to work and felt like doing NOTHING!!! I am so worn out. This parenting thing with work stresses me out. Now I have one hour till my rest is over. I am thinking about a trip to the play ground until bedtime. If lucky, the boys will come too. Have a great retreat. I am praying for you. Please pray for me too!!!
Love you lots,
JON
H,
Daniel woke up at 7.30, then riding the horse with Lone Ranger tune blaring. He helped me shave and shower, then tried to get in shower when I was done. Breakfast was ok, just cereal. "Where's moma?" I woke Noah up at 8.30, dressed and to breakfast. Daniel had the last of the miniwheats, so Noah was mad. Managed to serve him Honey Oats, but he didn't want almonds, so picked most of them out and placed on table. Daniel threw his bowl on the floor, after I was in my suit trousers, milk everywhere, daddy yelling, Daniel in naughty chair. Both of us said 'sorry'. "Where's moma?" Then time for diaper change. Grainy poop, 12 wet wipes, "bright!", wiggly boy resisting and getting very mad (surprise). We managed to get in van with everything but lunch... Ooops! No bread... Ooops again! So, we went to United Grocery Store, bought lunchables, took vanilla wafers for bribery and both boys were fine. In van ride, I confused Noah's 'lunch' for 'watch', he didn't like that at all. "Where's moma?" Got to Mother's Day Out OK. Whew! Went to work and felt like doing NOTHING!!! I am so worn out. This parenting thing with work stresses me out. Now I have one hour till my rest is over. I am thinking about a trip to the play ground until bedtime. If lucky, the boys will come too. Have a great retreat. I am praying for you. Please pray for me too!!!
Love you lots,
JON
Friday, May 4, 2007
Growing in Love
In a recent devotional time, I ran across words from Mother Teresa, from her book A Gift for God. Here is what she says...
"Some peoople came to Calcutta, and before leaving, they begged me: 'Tell something that will help us live our lives better.' And I said: 'Smile at each other; smile at your wife, smile at your husband, smile at your children, smile at each other--it doesn't matter who it is--and that will help you grow up in greater love for each other.'
"And then one of them asked me: 'Are you married?' And I said: 'Yes, and I find it difficult sometimes to smile at Jesus.' And it is true, Jesus can be very demanding also, and it is at those times when he is so demanding that to give him a big smile is very beautiful."
Oh, how true that seems to be. At auspicious moments in my life, needed smiles made a profound difference in my day. As a college student, I was walking across campus between classes. Lonely in a sea of thousands of others fluttering to and fro, I felt as if no one even knew I existed. Then a smile. It was anonymous but genuine and lasted for a few brief seconds. But it made my day, for I knew I was not alone. More recently, I received a smile from my wife Heather. Trying to keep our head above waters in the cluttered transition of packing and moving, we sat down to take a break. When our eyes met, there was her beautiful smile. There were no words, but then there didn't need to be. Her smile said it all--"I love you. Even in the midst of the flotsam and jetsam of packing, preparing for another life change, I am there with you, not begrudgingly, but willingly and with a thankful heart." Smiles from others truly make a difference.
Smiles from Jesus make a difference too. The difficult part for me, though, is smiling back. Though I know his amazing love for me and am convinced of his tangible, active work in my life, there are times when I can barely muster a thankful glance, much less a semblance of a smile. And I begin to wonder: Is my heart hardening, or am I becoming dead to the touch of his grace? Why do I struggle with this? Where do I get the power to smile at Jesus?
I am reminded of John's words, "We love because God first loved us." We smile, because he first smiled at us. What peace that brings, knowing that through receiving the blessing of his presence and the animating power of his Spirit, we can indeed smile back.
Smiling,
JON
"Some peoople came to Calcutta, and before leaving, they begged me: 'Tell something that will help us live our lives better.' And I said: 'Smile at each other; smile at your wife, smile at your husband, smile at your children, smile at each other--it doesn't matter who it is--and that will help you grow up in greater love for each other.'
"And then one of them asked me: 'Are you married?' And I said: 'Yes, and I find it difficult sometimes to smile at Jesus.' And it is true, Jesus can be very demanding also, and it is at those times when he is so demanding that to give him a big smile is very beautiful."
Oh, how true that seems to be. At auspicious moments in my life, needed smiles made a profound difference in my day. As a college student, I was walking across campus between classes. Lonely in a sea of thousands of others fluttering to and fro, I felt as if no one even knew I existed. Then a smile. It was anonymous but genuine and lasted for a few brief seconds. But it made my day, for I knew I was not alone. More recently, I received a smile from my wife Heather. Trying to keep our head above waters in the cluttered transition of packing and moving, we sat down to take a break. When our eyes met, there was her beautiful smile. There were no words, but then there didn't need to be. Her smile said it all--"I love you. Even in the midst of the flotsam and jetsam of packing, preparing for another life change, I am there with you, not begrudgingly, but willingly and with a thankful heart." Smiles from others truly make a difference.
Smiles from Jesus make a difference too. The difficult part for me, though, is smiling back. Though I know his amazing love for me and am convinced of his tangible, active work in my life, there are times when I can barely muster a thankful glance, much less a semblance of a smile. And I begin to wonder: Is my heart hardening, or am I becoming dead to the touch of his grace? Why do I struggle with this? Where do I get the power to smile at Jesus?
I am reminded of John's words, "We love because God first loved us." We smile, because he first smiled at us. What peace that brings, knowing that through receiving the blessing of his presence and the animating power of his Spirit, we can indeed smile back.
Smiling,
JON
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