Treasure Where?

"There's an old story of a bishop whose cathedral was about to be robbed. The bandits demanded the "treasures of the church." So the bishop went into the shelter and gathered up the poor, saying, "These are the treasures of the church." The bandits left empty-handed that night."

Divine Sorrow

Divine Sorrow from The Work Of The People on Vimeo.

Long Term Rescue Project

Overflow of the Heart

As we approach Holy Week, I find myself reflective upon this season of Lent. Part of me wonders if I even tried at all to engage with Jesus as our local church has defined Lent. I at least set up a goal for myself, to study and practice the speech ethics of Jesus. To aid me in this I have been reading Eugene Peterson's book Tell it Slant, a study of Jesus' parables as he travels through Samaria on his way to Jerusalem and to the cross. In many ways, this season of Lent has mirrored that journey, as I've walked with Jesus through a foreign land. I wish that I had the same flare for the dramatic as Jesus, that I could interpret people's spiritual situations into well-crafted metaphors that people would be repeating two thousand years later, that I could set aside my agenda to be well-liked and to merely speak words that give life. Yet in my quest to see my tongue changed, I found God working on a very different part of me, my heart. Its often like this, I think, with God, we simply want to change our behaviors but He seems to care far more about who we are at our core. I found that to speak like Jesus did not mean learning smooth rhetoric but to be changed by his words.

And so as Jesus is preparing for his Triumphal Entry into Jerusalem he tells a story about the life he is bringing us into. He tells of a master who entrusts ten servants with some investments, talents. When the master returns a King, he surveys how his tenants spent their talents. One especially daring servant risked his in high-stakes investments and doubled the King's returns. Another held tightly to his, afraid of losing it and is scolded by the master who subsequently takes the servant's little and gives it to the daring one. In this story Jesus is illustrating what it means to live in and move in his coming Kingdom. We are to throw caution to the wind and risk all.  He has given us tools to use and what he most desires is for us to go to work, without fear and with great hope.

So often I find myself like the last servant, keeping my talents to myself out of fear. I am so often afraid of failure that I fail to act at all, a failure in and of itself. Yet I see Jesus telling me that anything worth anything is going to take risk. He knew this keenly as he rode that donkey into the death trap that was Jerusalem. He knew what was on the line and he risked it all, even his life for his dream, for our dreams. He died and in that act of bravery he freed us all to do likewise. This season of Lent has challenged my heart at the basic level: I am coward, yet Jesus looks deep into my eyes and sees far beneath and proclaims that my name is "Courageous" and "Victorious." He bids me, and perhaps us all, to follow in his steps of daring even if it costs me my life, for the reward is doubly, even infinitely, greater.

Story Time

I was recently challenged to tell the whole story of the Bible in a few words.  Condensing a thousand page book, thick with theology, history, and all kinds of literary genres is no small feat.  Below is what poured out in a fury during this creative session.  I have not edited this from its original content.

Everything was created by God.  Of it all, man was God’s most prized work. God shared His image with man and loved him.  However, man disobeyed God through sin bringing death into creation.  This act cursed everything. But God began to reclaim His prize.  He made Abraham His son and made a covenant with Him, that through him, God would restore the nations to Himself.  This promise was carried out in the people of Israel whom God brought out of slavery and into the promised land.

This people had a great King, David, in whom God reaffirmed His promise to Abraham, adding that David’s son would build a temple and in this temple God would live with His people.  (This son would be Jesus Christ and His followers would be that Temple through which God would again dwell amongst His people.)  Israel turned away from God and was sent again into exile (slavery) away from the promised land.  The people longed for a Messiah and King to free them from exile, for even when they returned to the land they were still in exile because the land was not theirs.

God, at the perfect time, steps into history as a man, Jesus, and becomes the fulfillment of all God’s promises.  In Jesus, God brings His people out of exile to fulfill their purpose, to be the light of the world and to usher in His kingdom, bringing all nations to the Temple and thus the presence of God.  Jesus secures the redemption of Israel through His death and resurrection, vindicating God and ushering in a new era of resurrection.  Jesus commissions His Church to carry out His plan of blessing the nations by being the light of the world.  He promises to dwell among them in the Holy Spirit and to one day return and finally fulfill His ultimate desire and our destiny, the making new of all things, perfect communion restored with the Father and life everlasting.

Home with the Ones I Love

Yesterday, Michala, Mary Grace, and I headed over the mountains and through the woods to, well, Las Vegas, to catch a connection to Arkansas and eventually grandmother’s house (we call her Granny). Waking at 5 in the morning and finishing our trip at a quarter after midnight is an act of lunacy, yet when it comes to family we throw sanity out the window. Mary Grace has been gearing up to not only see her Granny but also Granny's dog, Buddy. When we asked her about going to see Granny, she would reply, "buh-ey (she has a slight enunciation problem with the d's in Buddy's name, which is strange cause she says my name perfectly)!" Now that we are all here and have at least a partial night of sleep under our belts, the morning brings peace. I love my family and, I tell you, I would do anything for them.


This adoration for my family has always challenged me when I am confronted by what Jesus says about family. He draws a hard-line when it comes to family, even His own. There is a story where Jesus is approached asking about his family and he responds with an almost dismissive tone, "Who are my mothers and brothers? Here are my mother and my brothers, everyone who hears the word of God and does it." The Prince of Peace also says things like, "I have come to set a man against his family and a woman against hers." Like so many of his words, I read these and feel the need to explain them away or simply wish they were not there at all. Jesus has a way of exposing us and when I read these words I feel naked and I'm not sure I even know why. I feel myself asking, "Well, Jesus, what am I supposed to do, just leave my family? That doesn't seem like love, but that is what I feel in your words."

I am reading a book named The Challenge of Jesus by N. T. Wright( aptly titled, in my opinion). In this book, Wright argues that we must read the narratives about Jesus in light of His Jewish roots and that he brought a message of Judgment and Vindication. Judgment on Israel for failing to be the "light of the world" and vindication for God in himself. Heady stuff, I know, but good stuff too. Wright sees family as one of the defining factors of Judaism, connecting them to Abraham and his promise but also excluding everyone else. Jesus says these things about family to expose their pride and exclusiveness, because the promise given to Abraham was for all nations and Jesus has come to deliver that promise to all nations, to you and to me.

We read Jesus' words through a lens, we have too. He was a man like us and spoke to his context and time, albeit timelessly. So we must hear his words through a filter, we must learn to listen with Jewish ears, because if not we miss his points altogether, that the Kingdom of God is at hand and the love that it gives is not limited to our own clan but to our neighbors and even to our enemies. I know that being a part of this Kingdom means I love my family, but it also holds radical connotations that demand me to love the stranger just as much, perhaps even more. Which is interesting because if we are honest sometimes our family's are the hardest one's to love, they know how to push our buttons, we have years of practice learning how to irritate one another, but every year we make sacrifices to simply be together; insanity, I know. But it is also a beautiful mess. Can we learn from this? Can we learn to love the very people who get at us in all the wrong ways and not just feel OK about them, but to sacrifice for them? Perhaps.
 
Insanity, I know.