who we are

I remember the first time I heard it—every time I have heard it since then, I still hear it the way she originally said it to me. Her name was Elizabeth, and we were working together. I was in college and married and had become the assistant manager at a store in the mall, and Elizabeth was a very bright, but troubled sophomore in high school who worked part time. Elizabeth and her mom had been abandoned by her dad, and she had to work to help her mom pay the bills on their apartment. Elizabeth’s boyfriend was in and out of rehab and kept her in various emotional states of disarray. But Elizabeth was honest, and she was a true seeker—she had good spiritual questions and never had to be goaded into asking the,, especially when she found out that I was studying theology.

One day she had asked me about why I choose to go to church and be a Christian exclusively in a world full of so many other worthy religions and philosophies. I told her in my own words about Jesus and what it meant to me to be a follower of his. She interrupted me and said it: “The way you talk about Jesus is different… it’s beautiful… like you know him and he is your friend… I want to know him like that. When you say it, I can tell it is beautiful and right and true. But when you talk about the church, I simply can’t believe you. Jesus is beautiful and right and true, but the church is so… so… so… static. And judgmental, and hypocritical too. And the church is so irrelevant that it doesn’t even deserve to have Jesus as its leader.”

Have you ever wondered what we (the church) are doing here? 

Have you ever asked yourself whether or not we are missing the point? 

Have you ever been angry at the church? 

Have you ever thought that the church seems to be so busy, but so off-focus that it hurts? 

Have you ever wondered if we are missing the whole point?

I think the problem is not so much our activities (although a lot of church activities are harmful and unhelpful); rather, I think the odd or misguided activities are the symptoms... but the sickness is that we don't know our IDENTITY. 

I think many of our churches have forgotten who they (we) are... so they (we) live like we don't know who we are. They (we) lose the plot.

And we don't find the plot by finding new strategies, programs, methods, or models. We find the plot by finding the author. Because deep down, our identity is rooted not in something we have done, but in something that God has done. 

We are whose we are. We are what God has made us. God created us and will recreate us. 

And we do what we are. Identity precedes activity. Because of God's work, we know what we are supposed to do--and we do it as creatively, courageously, and boldly as possible. Because it is right, and beautiful and true.

Thank God for grace.

the new guy

Well... this is it... this Sunday is my first week as the new preacher at Rochester Church of Christ.

I am excited. I am terrified. I am anxious. I am thrilled. I am thankful. I am learning. I am blessed.


I am blessed to be part of such a patient, forgiving, daring, bold, and faithful community.

I am blessed with a God so great that my words and actions can never exaggerate or exhaust his goodness, love, and grace.

I am blessed to be in the company of those who have been given an opportunity to call upon the name of God before the open hearts and minds of his people. I am blessed to be a preacher.

But still, I am scared.

Interestingly, it is not the art of preaching that scares me. I love preaching. I am certainly not the best at it, but I enjoy it. I like the feel and shape of the words, the rhythm and meter of delivery, the parry and thrust of rhetoric. It is intoxicating to feel the presence of the Spirit and the Word as the Father takes my human words and breathes life into them.

No... it is the act of preaching that scares me. It is the fact that I am so inadequate and unqualified to stand before a group of believers and proclaim "this is the word of the Lord to his people." As Haddon Robinson began nearly every sermon in his life:

"God, if these people knew about me what you know about me, they wouldn't listen to a word I said."

But, I remind myself of this: GRACE.

This is not a thinly veiled plea for reassurance. This is not a begging for forgiveness before I even open my mouth. This is simply a reminder to myself that I am what God has made me, not because I ever qualify myself for such things, but because God is gracious and loving to me. God believes in me much more than I believe in me. And any preacher who sees his role otherwise shouldn't be preaching.

And just as he whispered to Paul so long ago, God now whispers to me:
 

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

as big as the universe

Most every night, for his entire life, when I put my (now four year old) son to bed, I tell him the same thing:

I love you as big as the whole world.

Once he is excited about just how much I love him, I continue:

God loves you as big as the universe.

I hug him. I kiss him. And he goes to sleep.
Honestly, I think this is perhaps the most important statement I will ever make. I think this is what everyone needs to hear. There may be more to say, but it is just not as important as this.
So this is where we start… God loves you as big as the universe.