Next stop, Beantown.

Well, at long last the count-down draws to its conclusion… in less than 14 hours, I will get in my little green car (affectionately known as Oscar, although he is at all not grouchy) and begin my 14 hour trek northwards towards my new home, Boston, MA!

Many years ago, I used to sign all of my emails, “Pray boldly, because God delights to astonish us.” Friends, that was true then, and it is true now. All too often, I think we are tempted to pray human-sized prayers. And our God is so much bigger than we are… and his plans, his ways, and his understanding are so much bigger than ours. So, as I head to Boston, out of my comfort zone, into a “strange land,” that is what I would ask you to pray… pray boldly that God would astonish us with and delight to use us in his plan of redemption for his people, his cities, his campuses, his world.

... I'll see you on the other side. Next stop, Boston!

American Savior... er, President?

For those of you who might find yourselves in a comatose state, temporarily stationed on Antarctica, or on holiday 300 leagues below the sea, let me give you startling news: it is an American Presidential election year! For everyone else, well, you already knew that.

And the political science major in me rejoices greatly.

Simultaneously, I both love and abhor politics: I think it's fascinating how our political systems work. I think politicians are full of hot air (and I don't mean the helium kind). I think the idea of real change is beautiful. I think reform is far too often just a code word for "I want your vote" with no more meat than a skinny squirrel during a famine. I think Republicans and Democrats (or at least their policies) are far more similar than they admit. I love the ridiculousness of third-party candidates. But at the same time, I find them strangely refreshing because they run with true heart and real agenda for change, even if they have less hope of surviving than a NC snowball in July.

But the one thing that repeatedly gets me in American politics is that, despite official "separation of church and state," both sides arrogantly seem to think that they can claim that God uniquely stands on their side. Gott mit uns, no? And, simultaneously, the church, or many of its phalanges, are attempting to see which party will create the most "theocratic" governing body. In other words, which president will be the most Christian? Which will come the closest to establishing a godly government? And while these are noteworthy and noble goals, and a moral government is certainly to be desired, may I politely suggest that I think that the idea of a Christian government misses the point of government?

But, before I'm burned at the stake, defenestrated, or led to the gallows, allow me to explain.

Most of us think that the separation of church and state came from the first amendment, coined into a phrase in 1802 by Thomas Jefferson, established by the Supreme Court in subsequent cases. The truth, however, is that that separation came much earlier.

1 Samuel 8 begins with Samuel and his sons, the appointed religious leaders of the day. At that time, the nation of Israel had no separation between religious institution and governing political body. The priests, the judges, and the prophets ruled, with God as the recognized king. The rulers, as religious authorities, had political power, because they recognized God as their king (modern equivalent, president, cabinet, etc). But the people begin to get antsy, and they beseech Samuel to give them a king "because everyone else is doing it." (Don't believe me? Read the text.) God's response?

And the LORD told him: "Listen to all that the people are saying to you; it is not you they have rejected, but they have rejected me as their king. As they have done from the day I brought them up out of Egypt until this day, forsaking me and serving other gods, so they are doing to you." (1 Samuel 8:7-8)

And from that day forward, we had separation (sometimes partial, but yes separation) between the religious authorities and the governing body. And all the bloody mess that followed.

Here's my point: Until God is recognized as King, we cannot have a unity between religion and politics. We can try (certainly the nation of Israel tried many times, Iran is trying now with Sharia law, England bloody well tried numerous times), but we will not succeed until the king or ruling authority is no longer man, but God. And, like it or not, we are not a nation which recognizes God as King, regardless of our origins. Religion, or godliness, cannot be just another weapon in the politician's arsenal.

Please don't mistake my meaning: I am all for having a president who believes in God, who loves Jesus, and who seeks to lead from Christian values. I think those are good things. But I do not expect the political headship of our nation to bring about the redemption of mankind. And, I think, when we attempt to reunite the church and state, we mistakenly assume that reinstating "God's men (or women)" into office will reinstate God as King.

Politics, or the existence of an elected or appointed ruler, is by definition to claim an authority other than God. Can we recognize politics for what it is, and elect good men or women into power... but recognize that true change, and the coming of the kingdom, will not come through the political office, but has to come through recognition of God as King, and Jesus as Lord and Savior?

Feel free to explain to me why I'm wrong. :-)

Cup o Joe

caffeinated morning crowd,
not so many morning people.
awkward, suave, cool;
old and young,
families and single folks,
rich and not so much.
all united to a common life-line.

by evening, divided they will fall,
split by preference and extravagance;
youth and marital status.
but in the mornings,
bleary-eyed and yawning,
all members stand untied
in their common need
for Joe
and a little cream and sugar.

Breath

Monday night, I took a belly-dancing, yoga, Pilate's class with some friends, further substantiating my already well-established belief that my stomach core muscles were not intended to oscillate, flex, or move whatsoever, except in the natural in-out of breathing for walking and running... ah, well. You will note, when the teachers were asking for volunteers to perform, they did not nominate me. My childhood dreams were crushed. Regardless...

As with most yoga and Pilate's classes, it was rather new age-y and somewhat positive-happy-whatevery-energyish... But, as our instructor cooled us down by teaching us good breathing patterns and inviting us to think of good and positive thoughts, she said something that I thought was interesting:

"Breathe deeply, because the spirit is in the breath."

Isn't that interesting, when God also says, "then the LORD God formed the man of dust from the ground and breathed into his nostrils the breath of life, and the man became a living creature." (Genesis 2:7).

God, by breathing into us, set us apart from the animals. God, forming us out of soil, brought us into our humanity, by a simple breath not an seismographic kablooey.

Truth is all around us. We just have to have the eyes to see it with proper vision.

No one wants to be on the B-team

Eight days until I move northwards.

So, dear friends, I have a confession to make: I am arrogant.

While this might shock you (I know, I know, who would have guessed?), I assure you that it is true. I think I am right most of the time. If I appear humble, most likely it's because I feel that I am the most humble person around, and am quite proud of that fact (ah, the irony).

A few weeks ago, I sat down with a wise mentor and friend to talk through some of my feelings (ah, the dreaded word) with regard to the huge transitions coming up in my life. I was expressing fears, doubts, and frustrations about following a direction outside of my well-orchestrated plans. And my friend quite honestly said to me:

"You haven't been told 'no' to your big life-plans very often, have you?"
::ouch:: ::sigh, well, no, really just twice before this::
"And so, since your "A-plan" was rejected, now you feel like you're getting second best?"
::enter sinking feeling in pit of stomach as truth sinks in:: ::sigh:: ::yes::

and after a pause, "Do you really think you're getting God's second best? Are you that arrogant, to assume that your plans are better than God's?"
::why, yes, now that you mention it, I am that arrogant:: ::sigh::

And friends, here's the deal: at the root of my exaltation of my own wisdom, is the ugly doubt that God is not who He says He is (... good... good father... sovereign... loving... powerful... faithful...sufficient...). Ergo, I think I understand better than He does what I need/want.

It's truly humbling to realize that you're ridiculously self-centered and arrogant. But it has the good sting of truth settling in with cleansing power. Truth, spoken in love, is kind of like alcohol in a wound. It burns. It hurts. But it keeps infection and arrogance out. And being humbled or broken, is a hard place to be. But it's strangely freeing, as you let go, remove yourself from the divine driver's seat, and let God be God. In the words of Y&T:

I thought I did what's right
I thought I had the answers
I thought I chose the surest road
But that road brought me here
So I put up a fight
And told you how to help me
Now just when I have given up
The truth is coming clear

You know better than I
You know the way
I've let go the need to know why
For You know better than I

God's plan is the A-plan. Sometimes that coincides with my A-plan. But when it doesn't, that does not imply second-best, B-team material. God's best is always the best. Period.

Now, can I (can we) live like I (we) believe it?

Who do you say that I am?

Earlier this week, I spent time with some colleagues, dwelling in Matthew 16:13-23, where Jesus first begins to talk of his death. He asks his disciples the pivotal question: "Who do you say I am?" We were challenged to answer that question ourselves, not in the "good, true" answers that we intellectually knew to be correct, but rather, on a heart level.

And the question which I kept coming back to was, "Do I believe that God is sufficient?" Enough for my students; enough for my housing and funding; enough for me in a new location; enough so that I can be weak and messy and He can still work? And the answer to that question, on a heart level, is that I often struggle to believe that God is enough. But that struggle is a good one, because it continually drives me to my knees in repentance and dependence, as I realize more fully my own need, and ask God to show me himself more fully. And, I think that God delights to show us how big he is, if we are willing to ask him.

A wise colleague advised me to read Abram's story, as I prepare to make the move to Boston, and even as I struggle with this idea of God's sufficiency. Genesis 12:1 begins,

"The Lord had said to Abram, 'Leave your country, your people, and your father's household and go to the land I will show you.'"

It is then followed by God's promised blessing to Abraham in verses 2-3. But the key thing to note is that God does not give Abram the details of the blessing: it is enough that He is called by the Lord. God does not always explain his provision, nor does he always show us the means by which he intends to bless us. Rather, he asks us to step out in faith, trusting in nothing more and nothing less than than the fact that he is sufficient. And then, as we turn to him in faith, he delights to show us himself. Let us pray boldly, therefore, because He delights to astonish us!

matthew 16:15

how do i define someone
Who is bigger than i?

uncontainable,
unexplainable.
knows fully;
but, of yet, cannot be fully known.
i know his presence
yet words, oft too small to define.

quiet voice,
yet penetrates so deeply.
center to my definition, existence.
does not need affirmation or belief
for existence or presence.
so much bigger than i.

historical, promised, real, flesh and blood,
yet not bound
but by, to
His Father.
aroma. essence. source.
not to be confused with soft nor fuzzy;
but decidedly good, sweet, true.

held by justice.
willing to give it all: mercy by definition.
inexplicable.
but not a contradiction.
reason for my actions, all.

standard to which i'm held.
charged. judged. fall.
by which redeemed. pardoned. whole.

set free to follow.

Love and Power

I've heard this quote a few times in the last week, and, as it typically does, repetition makes me think:

"And one of the great problems of history is that the concepts of love and power have usually been contrasted as opposites, polar opposites, so that love is identified with a resignation of power, and power with a denial of love. What is needed is a realization that power without love is reckless and abusive, and that love without power is sentimental and anemic. Power at its best, power at its best is love implementing the demands of justice, and justice at its best is love correcting everything that stands against love."

(Martin Luther King, Jr., 1967, 11th Convention of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference in Atlanta, Georgia. )

Read it again. It's worth two times through at least... now what does that mean for you and me?

understanding, angst.

red. white. blue.
still black and white divided too?

ignorance and arrogance
privilege of an unknowing elite?
when i look into the mirror,
stand in the grocery store,
walk through a park,
or drive my new car,
do i have to notice first that i'm white?
indo-european, to be precise.

buying beauty products,
hair conditioner and shampoo,
do i see, understand, know,
that it's made for people just like me?
or, friends, is my white privilege
putting blinders on?
ignorance and arrogance,
privileges of the unknowing elite?

frustration, anger, come with knowledge.
what do i do? how can i act?
hands tied behind my back
in a harness of my own crafting.
realization, wisdom dawning:
there are no simple solutions
and that is half the problems' source:
anger and misplaced hate,
shallow understanding,
and simplicity on the near side of complexity.

with deepening understanding
comes fear. anger. frustration.
but sharing in the shackles of knowledge,
even if that means remaining bound,
unable to act,
lands greater understanding
to be applied with right power
when the time to act
is rightly granted.

Church Angst

Yesterday morning, I set foot in my home church in Winston-Salem for the first time in about six months. Yet no matter how long I have been gone, how many things have changed, it still feels like home. And it is. It was in this church that I truly began to grasp on a heart level what I always known intellectually: that is, that the church is more than just a building. Bound together, we are the body of Christ.

A few days ago, I was talking with someone who was expressing a lot of frustration at the Church (capital "c"). Honestly, this is not an uncommon sentiment for many college students. And to be completely honest, it's not a sentiment entirely without justification. There's a lot of sin in the church. The church as an organization and individuals claiming faith have been responsible for some pretty heinous acts and horrible decisions over the past few centuries. If you need more help on that one, check out some of the main protagonists and justifications for the crusades, colonization, ethnic cleansing, slavery, witch trials, the KKK, etc.

But here's the truth: there's a reason that there's a lot of sin in the church.

Unfortunately, or perhaps fortunately for us, the church is made up of sinners. Whom, I might add, look remarkably like you and me. And all to often, when we rely on our own judgment and abilities, rather than God's wisdom, we mess up. We sin often. We judge others as flawed or sinful, rejecting them, when we ourselves share the same status. And this is not a new thing; for centuries, people of faith have felt the divide between our redeemed self and the sin and wickedness which remains in our DNA. But the beauty of the gospel, friends, is that God didn't call perfect people. He came to us while we were yet sinners, and called us, as sinners, to follow him. He redeemed us. He made us clean. And it is by His grace, not our own merit, that we are able to stand in His presence. And this does not merely extend to individuals, but must likewise extend to the church body: it is only by grace that we stand.

And here's the part that struck me yesterday morning: not only did He call us, as sinners, to follow Him, but He called us as sinners to follow Him together. This is what is known as the church. It is not a perfect organization; it is a body constantly being perfected, refined and redeemed by the Lord.

Interestingly enough, you can scour Scripture, but you will never find the phrase "personal relationship with Jesus." This is not to say that Christ does not individually redeem each and every one of us. But rather, every time Christ's relationship to us is mentioned, it is with regard to the body, or the church. We, as a bunch of sinners, are bound together as the bride of Christ. And that is not a choice that we get to make. As believers, followers of Christ, we are part of the body, inextricably linked to one another, for better or for worse.

And so, as believers, we have a choice to make: when we see each other's sins, within the body, does that drive us together to repentance, seeking and depending on God's grace? Or are we going to go back to the garden, playing the blame game once again?

"It's not my fault... it's the church's fault."

Friends, as believers, we are the church. Can we, as sinners, stand together, reliant on grace?

Casting Vision: get out of the boat!

This summer, I have been spending a lot of time thinking about vision, or calling students and ministry partners to a bigger picture than just “well, we are a group of students and staff that love Jesus and want to share him with others.”

And the vision is really simple: that students would follow Jesus. But what does it mean to really follow Jesus? It’s equally simple in theory: it means to care about what Jesus cared about, to see people (including yourself) like Jesus would, and to act accordingly. To follow Jesus means caring for the poor and feeding the hungry; it means loving justice, and valuing mercy; and it means living out what we say we believe. Jesus directly cared for the poor, hungry, and sick, but he also trained and equipped his disciples to plant the church in the same pattern. To follow Jesus means not only to individually act on our faith; but also to train and equip the next generation to live out their faith. It means letting your life be transformed by the gospel. Friends, that is radical! And were we as Christians to actually live in such a way, it would not only transform our lives, it would also transform and bless the campus and the world.

As I thought about casting vision, I was reminded of the story in Luke 5:1-11, when Jesus crashes an early morning fishermen gathering, gets in their boat, putting out from shore for his morning sermon, and then giving them an unexpected bumper-crop of sun-warmed fish, so heavy that their nets were bursting and their boats couldn’t hold the bounty. Then Jesus gets out of the boat, and he says (vs. 10), “Don’t be afraid; from now on you will catch men.” And then something even more extraordinary (vs. 11) occurs: the fishermen “pulled their boats up on shore, left everything and followed him.”

So what does this have to do with campus ministry?! Friends, my job is to call students to follow Jesus: to be in their environment, to get in their boat, to speak their language, and to entreat them to get out of the boat and follow Jesus. Jesus calls the fisherman to something bigger than they’ve known before, and their lives are transformed by it. Those twelve men would go on to plant the church and carry Christ to the nations. The power of the gospel is that it not only transforms the lives of students, but students equipped to live kingdom lives will renew the campus and change the world. That's the big picture, or the vision, that gets me out of my boat and onto the campus: I believe in the power of the gospel to transform lives and change the world.

a sad face is good for the heart

"it is better to go into a house of mourning than to go into a house of feasting, for death is the destiny of every man; the living should take this to heart. sorrow is better than laughter, because a sad face is good for the heart. the heart of the wise is in the house of mourning, but the heart of the fool is in the house of pleasure." -ecclesiastes 7:2-4

I am terrible at goodbyes and I handle them by not processing things emotionally. More specifically, by pretending that everything is OK. But these verses from Ecclesiastes, and the words of wise friends, really called me out. I tend to be the fool who hangs out in a house of pleasure, laughing when I should cry, avoiding sadness/emotional-processing at all costs. This is not to say that I should wallow in sadness or refuse to have any fun in my last four days here on the hill... but it is worthwhile to actually allow myself the freedom to be sad, even, heaven forbid, to cry a bit. I truly love this place, and will be leaving many dear friends. So, as I write this, with tears definitely streaming down my now rosy cheeks, I leave you for now with the words of two very wise friends:

"to allow oneself to mourn is to admit that what is being lost truly had meaning to you." -b.h.

"to feel loss when you move on is to say, 'job well done.' had you no sense of loss, you would not have done your job well." - a.k.