Spiritual Dieting

In the book of John, a conversation is recorded between John the Baptist and his disciples.  Jesus has just begun his public ministry and John's disciples are basically struggling with jealousy.  The crowds that previously were being baptized by John are now going over and listening to Jesus and being baptized by Jesus.  John responds to his disciples with this quote:

He must increase, I must decrease.

Less of me, more of Jesus.
This is, in a short and simple phrase, the heart of discipleship.  Paul says it a little differently when he talks about dying to self and living or Christ.  In the book of Luke, Jesus gets at the same idea when he says, "Deny yourself and take up your cross daily."

Less of me, more of Jesus.
How often do you approach your relationship with Jesus this way?  How often do we invite God to shine a spotlight into our hearts and reveal the tendencies, the habits, the attitudes, the behaviors that need to decrease?

But here's the thing.  This is NOT just about trying to stop doing things.  It's about Jesus INCREASING in me.  It's about a more fruitful life.  It's about more peace, more joy, more purpose.  It's about an ever increasing awareness of God's presence and God's plans for me.

The bottom line is that until we decrease (until we get out of the way), there isn't room in our lives for more of Jesus.  So I decrease, in order that Christ may increase.

Today, I challenge you to ask God what it might look like for you to clear a little space (loose a little "weight") so that there is a little more room for Christ in you.

Raising the bar for Ordination?

Last week, the ordination vows changed in our denomination.  The previous standard required that candidates for ordination practice “fidelity in marriage between a man and a woman or chastity in singleness.”

The new statement on the standards of ordination reads:

“Standards for ordained service reflect the church’s desire to submit joyfully to the Lordship of Jesus Christ in all aspects of life (G-1.0000). The governing body responsible for ordination and/or installation (G.14.0240; G-14.0450) shall examine each candidate’s calling, gifts, preparation, and suitability for the responsibilities of office. The examination shall include, but not be limited to, a determination of the candidate’s ability and commitment to fulfill all requirements as expressed in the constitutional questions for ordination and installation (W-4.4003). Governing bodies shall be guided by Scripture and the confessions in applying standards to individual candidates.”

The basic result of this vote is that decisions regarding ordination will be made by local churches and Presbyteries, as opposed to the previous clause in our Book of Order specifically prohibiting the ordination of avowed, practicing homosexuals.  Our denomination has been hotly debating this issue for 3 decades and we remain deeply divided over this question.  Without question, this decision will result in joyful celebration for some; and it will cause grieving and distress among others.  I suspect that the media will make much of the decision (and I suspect that little of that will be fair or accurate).  It is my hope that we will be able to process this decision with grace and humility, making an effort to honor one another’s opinions and perspectives.

Right now, my intent is not to add more noise to the debate regarding God’s heart or the biblical standard regarding homosexuality.  Right now, I simply want to point out something compelling that I see in the new standards for ordination.

I think that in some respects we actually raised the bar.  With one single phrase in the new standards, I believe we elevated the conversation on what is required of a candidate for ordination.


The compelling phrase for me is: “Joyful submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.”

As I reflect on my own ordination experience and on countless conversations with others either going through the ordination process or serving on a committee overseeing candidates for ordination, I have rarely heard of anyone being asked about or encouraged regarding the idea of submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.  We are asked to confess that Jesus is Lord.  But, if we are honest, throughout the ordination process, that is simply assumed, at best.  

The new language for ordination standards roots the whole idea of ordination in a tremendously significant framework:  submission to Christ’s Lordship.

This past week, without realizing that the deciding votes were being cast, I started work on a sermon about the fall and the nature of sin.  The Genesis 3 account of Adam and Eve could perhaps be summarized as the decision to reject the Lordship of God.  God asked one thing of them - that they let him be God; that they let God tell them what is right and wrong; that they trust him as the source of truth and knowledge and goodness and life.  

But in taking the forbidden fruit, Adam and Eve chose to decide for themselves.  They rejected the Lordship of God and set themselves firmly on the throne of their hearts.

That was the sin of the Fall.  And it might be suggested that it is the nature of the sin in each of our own hearts.  We are quite sure that we know what is best for us; We consider ourselves able to fully provide for ourselves; in practice - we have no real need for God.  We have claimed that role for ourselves.

The new ordination standards call for “joyful submission to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.”  The implications are, frankly, all encompassing.  In essence, it means that for the pastor (or candidate for ordination, or for the Christian, frankly) a foundational part of my journey towards Christ is learning to identify the dark corners of my life where I have maintained control.  Joyful submission means that I am passionately enthusiastic about looking for ways I have not yet allowed Jesus Christ to be the author of my life.  It means examining every habit, every thought, every action, every attitude and holding it up to the light of Christ, asking God to redeem it and transform it in the image of Christ for the purposes of his kingdom.

What is exempt?  Nothing.

It includes my spending habits and my budget.

It includes my eating habits and my health.

It includes the way I drive and it includes what I drive.

It includes the way I speak.


It includes how I engage with my kids when I get home.


It includes the time I spend on my smart phone when I get home.

It includes what I look at on my laptop. 

It includes how I reach out to my next door neighbor.


It includes how I speak on the golf course and in the pub.

In includes my friendships.


It includes my marriage.

And yes it includes, even as a married man, my sexuality.

In each and every area, I am called and bound to joyfully submit to the Lordship of Jesus Christ.

In each and every area, I am compelled to ask “Jesus, I give this area of my life to you.  It is not my own.  It is yours. What would you have me do?  How can I live it for your glory.” 

In each and every area, to pray “Not my will, but thine.”

This is a tremendously high bar. 

Obviously we are not asking those wishing to be ordained to have successfully surrendered every area.  That is the essence of the lifelong journey of discipleship.  But we are, absolutely and without question, asking candidates for ordination to pledge and demonstrate that they will constantly try.  We are holding up, as the very root of ordination and the very heart of the disciple, submitting to Christ.  

Are we truly willing to ask this question of one another?  Are we genuinely committed to challenging each other to this standard?  I hope so.  Because I need help getting there.  I need the encouragement and the accountability and the challenge of my peers.  Without it, I am not sure I will pursue it with the steadfastness it deserves.  

It’s a high bar.  If we really mean it, I think I like it.

Checking my attitude...

A friend on Facebook posted recently with this update:

When it comes to being community, there is a fine line between being a prophet in your own "hometown" and just being an jerk.

In terms of "being community," I took this words in the context of being a faith community.  Certainly there are many other levels of community.  My softball team is becoming a level of community for me.  And these words are true in every level of community.

But these words hit home for me in the context of church.

See, I like to think of myself as playing the role of the prophet.  (think Old Testament prophet here).  I feel like it's my "calling" to speak to the status quo and challenge the accepted norms.  It's hard for me to sit quietly when I see people or groups settling for something that's so far below what could be possible.  I love to point out what could be.  Maybe even what should be.  I love to encourage people to see differently, think differently, live differently.  I feel deeply that a part of my role in the faith community is to call people back to whole-hearted reliance on and connectedness to God.

But my friend is right.  There is a fine line between "being a prophet" and just "being a jerk."

Often times, I'm just a jerk.  And I'm sorry about that.  (I actually mean sorry - as in I intend to try my best, with God's help, to not do that again.)  I also want to invite you to call me on it.  "Hey bro, you're slipping off to the wrong side of the line." or maybe "Come on back to community, prophet boy." I'll laugh and nod and agree with you.

OK, all that said, I am who I am.  As long as you'll have me, you're going to have a pastor who resists easy answers because the hard answer might be better.  You'll have me saying uncomfortable things, because Jesus didn't die for us to be comfortable.  You'll have me pushing and pulling and calling and challenging because I believe in the deepest chamber of my soul that God is inviting us into possibilities that are so much greater than what we settle for.

Hopefully, I'll keep it on the line.

A bigger piece of the cake?

Mal Nygren was the senior pastor of our church from 1954 until 1990.  He had a huge impact on our church and on our community and is much loved still today.

In 2000, he wrote a wonderful booklet celebrating 150 years of our church history.  It is really moving to read story after story of our church sending groups of our own members out into the community.  He describes the experience of our church planting several other churches in the area.  It is really a story to be proud of.

But as he describes different ways of thinking about church growth, one paragraph really stood out for me:

A church that grows entirely by taking members away from existing churches isn't growing at all.  It isn't baking a bigger pie.  It is simply cutting a larger piece for itself. 

I love that sentiment.  I desperately hope that we grow, as a church.  But I am not interested in growth by "stealing sheep" from other churches.  I hope we grow because God is using us to reach out to and connect with people who are disconnected from the body of Christ.  As we continue to push ourselves to invite people in, can we agree to focus on inviting the disconnected rather than trying to pry people away from the place they've already been planted?

Thanks for the reminder Rev. Nygren!

A long overdue thanks

From today's Launch Blast:

I found myself reading John 5 this morning.  When I read, I try to pay attention to any phrase that triggers any kind of reaction in me.  Surprise, frustration, intrigue, excitement, doubt, any such response I take as a possible prompt from God.  Then I slow down and focus on that verse.

This morning I was grabbed by this words of Jesus:

“Behold, I say to you, lift up your eyes, and look on the fields, that they are white for harvest.  Already he who reaps is receiving wages, and is gathering fruit for life eternal; that he who sows and he who reaps may rejoice together.  For in this case the saying is true, ‘One sows, and another reaps.’  I sent you to reap that for which you have not labored; others have labored, and you have entered into their labor.”

Let me just say that I am HUGELY excited about the conversations we are having about the future of our church.  I can hardly keep it in, I’m so excited.  This morning, though, I realized how much of a debt of gratitude I owe the people who have paved the way for those possibilities.  I’m slightly embarrassed at the degree to which I’ve forgotten a critical point.  God used generations of people (from long before I was even a twinkle in my mother’s eye) to prepare this church for each new step of its journey.  And we build our future on the prayer and hard work of those before us.

And today I want to say THANK YOU!!!!

Thank you to the past spiritual leaders of our church.  Thanks to people like Mal Nygren and Dale Tutje for laying such a solid faith foundation deep in the hearts of our congregation.  Thanks to session members who spent many long nights wrestling with hard challenges and big ideas, trying to do one thing - discern God’s leading.  Thanks to committees and task forces who, time and time again, prayed and wondered and dreamed about God’s future.  Thanks to you, the members of this congregation, who stuck with us through tough times and uncertainies.  Thanks to those of you with spiritual vision who dared to dream of new possibilities.  Thanks to those with deep faith - who trusted that God would provide and protect us, even as we ventured into new places.  Thanks to the countless prayer warriors who covered our every step in petition to God; yours was probably the most important piece of what brought us to this point.  

As we move forward, I am praying that we would be blessed by God as people of the harvest.  I pray that we see God move mightily, in and through us, to accomplish his redemptive work in the lives of those around us.  And today I pray that we remember with gratitude those before us who tilled the fields and sowed the seed.  Our harvest is also your harvest.  

Thanks!

My 2 cents on bin Laden.

If you're anything like me, you've had more than your fill of people on Facebook and the blogosphere sharing their thoughts on how Christians ought to respond to the news about the death of bin Laden.  I have no intention of adding to the noise.  I'm not sure anything new can be said about it.  But for the sake of honesty, let me just say that I think the actions we took were necessary but not beautiful.  I think it was just, but I don't think it accomplishes justice.  I could say an awful lot more about that, but I think the bottom line for me is that there is a tension here and I think we just have to live in it.  


But the whole debate brings up something that is far more intriguing to me.  It's the idea that the Gospel (the good news regarding Jesus Christ) introduces the possibility of a different kind of response than we might otherwise be able to see or certainly to choose.


There are 2 scripture passages that are deeply relevant and I know you've seen these by now:

• Prov. 24:17 -  If your enemy falls, do not exult; If he trips, let your heart not rejoice 
• Matthew 5:43-45  -  “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you,  that you may be children of your Father in heaven.

I met with a friend today who basically told me, if God seriously wants me to love my enemies, I don't think I can be who God wants me to be.  This was a guy who, on a very personal level, has every right and every reason to hate Osama bin Laden.  And yet he finds himself wrestling with the sense that God is asking something more of him.  And he (like me) isn't sure he can find that other response in his heart.

It occurs to me that this is the most spiritually significant point in the entire conversation about bin Laden.  This might be the question that matters the most.  This is hugely important.

It COULD be that we follow a God who more or less leaves us to our own means and basically challenges us to do our best.  The result would be that we just are who we are.  We can do what we can do.  And that's it.  If a certain standard is beyond my reach, then I just settle for what I CAN reach.

But the truth is so much better than that.  We follow a God whose creative work in us continues.  This is amazing - God is intent on my becoming MORE than I currently am.  Through God I find myself able to do MORE than I can currently do.  With God, all kinds of other possibilities open up because our infinitely creative God is able to do so much more than we can possibly imagine.  

This isn't remotely about shame in terms of who we are right now.  No shame allowed here.  This is about God who is constantly dreaming about what is possible in my life - and my own dreams can't even come close to measuring up to what God dreams on my behalf.  

So when I read that love never fails...well, my own vision fails.  My own capacity for love fails.  My ability to love my enemies definitely has its limits.  But GOD'S capacity for love opens up so many other possibilities.  

All of which leaves me thinking, I'm suddenly way less worried about how I should or shouldn't respond to the news of bin Laden's death.  I'm too caught up asking God to show me some of the dreams he might have for me.  I'm too excited exploring some of the things that are possible for me, because of Jesus Christ in me.