I Run In God's Goodness...

We went to run again (last blog about running... I promise) this week and, as is common in southern summers, a storm came up suddenly.  I wanted to run outside, Pamela my lovely wife, wanted to run in the gym.  On a treadmill.  Boo! But I'm pretty persuasive (as her even marrying me will attest to) so she agreed to run outdoors with me at the "Y".  My gift isn't as good as it once was because as the storm came up and the rain began it became more persuasive than I and pushed her indoors. However, along with being persuasive, I'm also stubborn, so I ran outside in the rain anyway.

The rain was barely coming down on my walk out to the track, but as I began my run, making the first of eleven laps, as we southerners say, "The bottom fell out."  It was invigorating to run in the rain, and I often focus on thinking certain trains of thought to drown out the time and pain it takes me to run several miles. My train of thought on this day was, oddly, rain.  I began to think about how we typically act when it rains.  We run for cover or stay indoors because goodness knows we need enough sense to get in out of the rain. 

A scripture then came to mind, one that I often hear quoted out of context, "God causes it to rain on the just and the unjust."  This text is often quoted when something bad happens to someone. "Well you know what the Bible says, it rains on the just and the unjust!"  Or, "Hey neighbor! I just found your beloved pet in the street, dead from being hit by a car.  But you know what the Bible says, 'It rains on the just and the unjust!'. And I know you're a good church going Christian so I thought I'd just throw that little nugget of scriptural goodness out there to make this bad situation seem somehow better.  Have a good day neighbor!" Or something like that...

Anyway, the text is meant as a good thing.  God blesses everyone whether they are good or un-good (I know, not a real word).  He causes the rain to still come down upon the cursed Earth causing crops to flourish, the ground to be cleaned and cisterns to be filled.  Rain is God's goodness on us all.  So on this particular run, I ran in God's goodness.

As I focused on this train of thought, my mind went to so many places in this metaphor.  I began to think of the rain as the presence of God. (I know, weird and new-age-y...) The first thing I noticed was the rain blinded me.  It was raining so hard that I couldn't see well.  I thought of how blinding God's true presence is insomuch as to keep Israel from seeing Moses' face for many days by being in God's presence.  It is so Other than what we are.  I thought of how the priests couldn't stand to minister in God's presence.  This was sort of a blindness to them because His presence hindered them from their job, which was a good thing. 

Rain was all in my eyes, running down my face, covering me completely. It came pouring in at a hard slant from the west and I was running directly into it.  It's driving wind was an obstruction to my efforts.  It struck me then that so is God's presence.  His presence is an obstruction to my own efforts.  Everything that I try to do in my own efforts, if I am to be like Him, He becomes obstructive to.  He won't allow us to just "get along" in life outside of His plan, I mean, unless we want to live in total rebellion.  I also thought of the obstruction as a testing of sorts.  How, in life, God orchestrates tests to try our hearts and to strengthen our characters.  The force of wind and rain in my face, and given the fact that this portion of the track is up hill, it made me want to stop running for the opposition.  It was no longer easy.  But as I urged onward and rounded the turn of the track, the wind became a force to drive me forward.  It was as though my broad back became a sail and the wind and rain pushed me forward causing me to run a bit faster than before.  The presence of God does this too.  It propels us forward.  What was once a trial often becomes our experience making us stronger and wiser.  We are no longer weak.

I thought then of how the rain saturated everything around me.  Where can I go to escape the presence of the LORD? The ground was soaked, the trees were soaked, the concrete was soaked, the intangible air seemed soaked including myself.  Then I thought, "There it is! I'm saturated in the presence of God."  And my heart turned to prayer during this run, "Lord saturate my life with your presence."  But then I had the thought that this is the wrong metaphor.  This was an Old Testament metaphor for the Holy Spirit where His presence would come down on man and aid him.  The New Testament metaphor is different, better... He'll not just be near (on) us, but He will be in us as a well springing up.  He swims in us, not the other way around.  Which prophet was it that was told to wade out deeper?  But now the Spirit that prophet was in is surging inside us as an altering force, changing and moving us.

As I neared the end of the run, I began to be driven by the desire to finish the race in the rain.  It looked as though it was about to subside and stop altogether.  I wanted to finish my race in the rain.  And there it was again.  I want to finish the race of my life in the rain of His presence.  I want to push on through life's difficulties and trials not by stopping when it's difficult, but by trudging onward when it's tough and be driven by Him.  The force sent to weather me will soon be the force sent to will me forward... to finish the course. I was then reminded that unlike the rain, He abides and doesn't cease.

Every time I experience God's creation like this, I'm reminded and convicted, that this - the elements - are enough to point me to Him; that all of nature testifies of His goodness.

I could have ran inside beside my lovely wife on a treadmill safe from the rain. And that wouldn't have been a bad thing.  She would have made the indoor scenery beautiful. But would I have had this conversation?  She just puts her earbuds in and listens to music anyway.  Outside, out in the rain... I ran in God's goodness.

I Run Birmingham...

Last Thursday I thought I'd take a run on my lunch break. We are members of the YMCA (affectionately known as the "Y") but I didn't want to run indoors. At the last moment before getting into my truck and heading off to the "Y", I took off from my work parking lot and headed via jog toward the East, toward Birmingham.

I love the city. Not just any city, but this city in particular. From the parks in Highland, to the cafes of homewood and downtown. I love going down to five points and getting something to eat before the place is taken over by the bar dwellers of night. I bank downtown, I read downtown (love the Birmingham library) and now, as of Thursday, I run downtown. I run Birmingham.

I started my run over the First Avenue bridge next to old Sloss Furnace, the city skyscrapers stretched out before me. They seemed so distant, but with every pounding step they grew larger and larger until they loomed over me cooling me with their shadows from the noon time sun. I felt as though I was on an adveture of sorts, not knowing where I was going... just running.

As I ran though, as I often do, I prayed. A particular prayer began to creep up from my heart and into the mouth of my mind, "Can this city be saved?" As I began to pray this, I became overwhelmed at the task of serving the city in such a way that its residents would know Christ... that its businesses would know Christ. I began thinking of revival to the city that would have to come in Biblical proportions for the whole of it to be touched. Then I felt despair in thinking who could go? Who could undertake such a venture? Who could bring a sufficient crusade? Do crusades even work?

I ran down Richard Arrington Jr. Blvd, down to the public library, around the block, up 22nd Street and then left back on First Aveue away from the city. As I headed back over the long bridge, the city to my back and no longer in site, it struck me how out of sight out of mind we are in our churches and how we've retreated safely from the city to the suburbs. Oddly, my prayer had ceased as well no longer able to see the towering buildings.

Now, days later, I'm off to run in the comfort of my neighborhood with its well manicured lawns and parked bass boats and away from the homeless who sleep under Birmingham's bridges. I wonder if I'll pray for the salvations of my fellow suburb dwellers as well? Or will I simply pray for a bigger house? Then I wonder which prayer God will answer?

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"With Your Seed to (insert ministry here)... You Will Receive"

I just received an email from (insert ministry here) asking for my "seed"... now, I double checked to make sure I knew just exactly what it was they were asking, then realizing they were asking for me to give a monetary offering, I thought, "Why don't we (nominal Christian ministries) just come out and say what we really want?"

The very fact that we call money "SEED" shows the manipulative manner in which we (nominal Christian ministry of choice) will stoop to get peoples' money.  The fact that I'm just seeing this use of the word "SEED" as manipulative shows the length to which I've been exposed to pseudo-Christian ministry manipulation so much so that I've never thought of it this way before.

Our wording is wrong..., it's all wrong!

God loves a cheerful giver, and I love to give cheerfully.  However, what I don't love is how our modern celebrity ministry builds such expensive big budget ministry that the poor have to support it instead of the poor receiving a hand up by the ministry itself.  Sure, I also understand the planting and harvesting metaphor the Bible uses to teach how God blesses when we give.  This doesn't excuse anyone from still being manipulative, especially in the name of Christ.  The very spirit of using religious language to get more bank roll for (insert ministry here) shows how spiritually/religiously manipulative we've become and we've done so without even noticing (or caring).

Why don't we just come out and say, "Here's an opportunity to give your money to support (insert ministry here)."  We've created an entire language that doesn't relate to the world's understanding.  It's like our own little secret club with secret words.  And you have to be in the club to get the lingo.  This sorta goes against the commission, right?  We're disconnected from the ones we're sent to by our weird use of terminology...  "Christian-ese", if you will allow to borrow an overused cliche. I would respect (insert ministry here) International® if they would just be honest in their robbing the poor by guilting them into "receiving" something from God because of the promise hidden in the manipulative language.

My wife and I (okay, my kids too) are tremendously blessed and we trust God completely for our sustenance.  But we don't go around using the false-faith-formulas (isn't the letter "F" the sixth letter in the alphabet? False-Faith-Formula + 6asle-6aith-6ormula... 6-6-6... I think I'm onto something!) we see plastered all over the television to try to manipulatively pull something from Christ's hands so I can be "blessed".  He is a good God.  He knows what we need.  And if we know the good God intimately, we'll know He's trust worthy and that we don't have to scam Him so that He'll finally bless us.

I guess I'm ranting a bit... just hate to see such overtly-subtle (that's possible, right?) language being so prevalently used in the Church; who really has the greatest thing going for us... Christ.  I wonder why we need more than Him?

"Jim and Casper Go To Church" by Jim Henderson and Matt Casper

I just finished reading the book "Jim and Casper Go To Church" by 30 year veteran pastor, Jim Henderson, and Atheist "church rater", Matt Casper.  The book was recommended to me, and upon hearing the premise, well, let's just say I was intrigued... .

The nutshell version is that Pastor Jim hires Atheist Casper to go to twelve churches in America and simply give his impression and observations of the churches they visit.

They visit Saddleback, Willow Creek, The Mosaic Church, Imago Dei, Mars Hill (Seattle), Lakewood, The Potter's House, et al.  See why I was intrigued?  The idea is that we Christians, for the most part, have been to church all of our lives and well, frankly, when looking at how we do church we can't see the forest for the trees. I was intrigued at what an "un-churched" non-believer would see when viewing the creme-of-the-crop, or as Jim Henderson described Saddleback, "the Super Bowl of Churches."

Casper the Atheist makes very blunt observations that really made me question, "What are we doing? And why are we doing it like this?"  The question he kept asking the Pastor Jim, after seeing the big celebrity preachers, the laser lights, fog machines, polished "slick" bands singing songs with no soul, the contrived smiles of congregants, being told to be friendly to your neighbor (as though Christians should be told to do this during our meetings or anywhere else for that matter), the compulsory appeals to give so that the big show can be promoted, mega churches, mega ministries, mega egos, and mega bucks was, "Jim, did Jesus tell you guys to do all of this?"

The thing about this book is that it left me feeling despair.  Not because of its overly cynical tone, which it wasn't.  They were both surprisingly objective in their subjectivity. What left me in despair was because it's true.  It's true.  It is true... .

I see the problems all the time with the way we conduct church and with the way we the church conduct ourselves.  We jump from church, after church, after church going to where we can be "most blessed" or "fed" or because (my favorite) "God is leading us elsewhere," or whatever lame excuses we use to lie about the real reason we are leaving a particular church.  Does God really call us to go somewhere else so often so that we can sit more comfortably in some other church's pews and occupy space?  I'm not saying it never happens, but why does it always seems to happen to those who are most disgruntled, or hurt or offended?  And it seems to always be to a church that is bigger and better.  Why doesn't God ever call us to some mission work where we can be useful in some regard?  It's really the excuse we give because it removes the responsibility from ourselves, after all, who can blame God for moving us, right?  This seems rampant in the pulpit as well and not just in the pews.  Ministers are always, seemingly, called to be bigger better places - promotions, if you will.  This doesn't discount the countless hundreds of ministers who faithfully hold their places of obscurity, painfully praying for God to move amongst us.  But, I'm convinced that God isn't going to move anytime soon.  I have a hard time believing He will simply "Pour out His Spirit over our mess," to quote someone I know who gloriously knows a thing or too about obscurity (and I mean that in a good way).

The reason too this book was so despairing is because of its passive call to 'otherness'.  James 4:17 says, "If you know what's right to do and you don't do it by ignoring it and going on living like you never knew, then you are guilty, sinful and wretched" (paraphrase mine).  Now that I know that we are going about this all wrong, how do I live from this point on and not grieve the Holy Spirit? 

Radical change must occur for us to become the church and stop going to church (to borrow a "right-on" cliche), because really that can't happen.  We cannot go to church just as though no one can go to tree. (silly, huh?)  You might stand near a tree, but you can't go to something that is.  You can't go to something that is living.  You are either the living thing or you are around or near the living thing and, by implication then, you are not the living thing. (makes sense? sort of?) We can stand near the church that happens to be in a building where we might be at that time on Sunday morning, or we can be the church that is, and, as we live and go and are in the world, we then are that thing. 

So the question we have to ask ourselves, am I the church or am I simply around the church?  If we answer the question that we are the church, then, remembering a question quoted from Francis Chan in my previous blog "Forgotten God", "What about my life makes the world be in awe of Christ?"  Because frankly, a single Atheist named Matt Casper wasn't in awe with the Christ we claim to be buddies with.  Despite the latest great technology and celebrity.  The church only needs one celebrity; the One hated by the world not loved by it...

"Forgotten God" by Francis Chan

I was a slow comer to reading anything by Francis Chan.  I know, some of you will gasp since you've been reading him since "Crazy Love" (almost next on my list... almost).  I filed him away as an uber-hip, emergent type that likes to say cool and deep things from behind funky-thick framed glasses while dawning cool hair, a prius, sipping coffee and thoughfully contimplating the next thing they're going to say while looking cool saying it... and contemplating it type.  I was wrong.  Again.  (So that's why Jesus said Matthew 7:1-2 - thankfully Jesus numbered stuff to make it easier for us to quote Him.)

Before going on our tenth anniversary cruise, I prayed to find a book to read while abroad (Can you say that if you go on a cruise? I've just always wanted to say that, I mean... we were in Mexico).  Something struck a nerve to me about this book..., it was on sale.  Not really, but it was in the pre-cruise budget my wife gave me and it looked cool, so I picked it up.  I only read a couple of chapters while on our tenth anniversary cruise, better things to do I guess, but I wasn't at all prepared for the book.

Now before you go running off and downloading this eBook to your Nook, eReader or Kindle don't expect to hear anything too new.  What got me about this book is how challenging the Holy Spirit was to me while I was reading this book.  Again, you may read this and not have the same reaction, but it's worth the read nonetheless (I love typing that word).

"Forgotten God" is about the Holy Spirit, in a nutshell (or a book).

I finished the book yesterday, while pacing back and forth on a side walk outside my place of business under the shade of trees, and I cried like a baby.  Metaphorically speaking.  (Some of you are so literal.)  I wanted what Chan wrote about; to be led by the Spirit.  In everything.  Everyday.  And, I don't know if I've ever lived like that.  "Why in America do we need the Comforter when we're already so comfortable (paraphrase mine)?"  And that was it.  In the shadow of my place of business - my bread and butter, my security blanket, my retirement plan, my mortgage payment, my health insurance, my car payment, my comfort, my health club, my non-Churched friends, - all that my job is to me, it hit me like a ton of bricks.  "I didn't need God".  Granted, if the thunder cloud would have gathered over me, I would have changed my tune, but then I realized something... I hadn't said that.  The Holy Spirit had said that.

...and, Jeremy wept.

I paced back and forth, strolling on the sidewalk under comfortable shadow, utterly wrecked.  Still am.  The question that lingers, "What about my life points anyone to be in awe of Christ instead of me?"  The answer that lingers, "Nothing."

The prayer began last week in my heart, ever before I finished this book, "Holy Spirit, form yourself in me?" It continues daily, "Form yourself in me?"  It's a request, not a command.

My desperate desire now is to live needing Him, never forgetting Him, no matter how that translates to real life. "Sell my house, move my family to the slums...," if that means living a life led by the Spirit, then... do you know any Real Estate agents? (I know, easy to type and hard to do.  But hopefully that was the old me.  The new me that was Spirit filled yesterday will hopefully hear and then obey.  Because the new me doesn't want to hold on to things of this life that have only temporal value... I would like to not give Francis Chan a reason to write a sequel "Forgetting God.")