Run With the Horses

Eugene Peterson gave us The Message, which I love as a useable, preachable, accessible, accurate translation of the bible. (Purists will point out it isn't technically a translation, and that there are more accurate translations out there...and I'll agree with them.) He's also given us a number of books.

My friend Doug Glover gave me Run With the Horses in 2002, inscribed with the words "Thanks for the help with my flock..." The book is about the man Jeremiah, a prophet, who is Peterson's personal example and inspiration from the bible. That year, Jeremiah joined Daniel and David for me. A few quotes from the first chapter say more than I can:

"The puzzle is why so many people live so badly. Not so wickedly, but so inanely. Not so cruelly, but so stupidly. There is little to admire and less to imitate in the people who are prominent in our culture."

"No Oscars are given for integrity. At year's end no one compiles a list of the ten best-lived lives."

"Scripture...refuses to feed our lust for hero worship. It will not pander to our adolescent desire to join a fan club. The reason is, I think, clear enough. Fan clubs encourage secondhand living...We find diversion from our own humdrum existence by riding on the coattails of someone exotic...We do it because we are convinced that we are plain and ordinary."

"Scripture, however, doesn't play that game...We are prevented from following in another's footsteps and are called to an incomparable association with Christ."

Jeremiah grew weary, ready to settle for being just a face in the Jerusalem crowd, and told God his problem (Jeremiah 12). In reply, God asked him, "If you have raced with men on foot, and they have wearied you, how will you compete with horses? And if in a safe land you fall down, how will you do in the jungle of the Jordan?" And then he handed Jeremiah another prophecy to deliver to his people...

They were hard questions, unwelcome questions, for Jeremiah. And for us. But they were, and are, God's questions. Fortunately for Jeremiah and us, such questions from God are accompanied by his help, not leaving us either to thrash in the hurricane of circumstances or huddle in the irrelevance of the turtle-shell. Jeremiah's verbal answer, if any, isn't recorded for us. But his life, his obedient following of God, shouts that he chose to run with the horses.

Doug and I ministered at Wyndham Park retirement home for eight years. Doug knew what weariness was, and he knew how to sow encouragement into my life through the example of a no-kidding man of God. Peterson's wealthy prose rewards slow, thoughtful reading. It isn't bathroom reading, or beach reading. It's more like shut-the-door-on-the-world-over-the-rainy-weekend reading.

Doug's body is two years in its grave now, but his spirit lives on with Jesus and Jeremiah. Their legacy lives on in me, and in numberless others. Perhaps, if you read this book, it can live in you as well.
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Wildmen: A Band of Brothers

It isn't often that you see an independent, successful men's ministry. I realize that some will say, "Hey, I'm in one!" A few more will say, "Well, we've got a good one at my church." I'm glad you do. Really. But I've lost count of the number of Christian women who talk to me with That Look behind their eyes. They have That Look when the men in their lives don't have much connection with Jesus or even Christian men. They have That Look when the men in their lives don't give them Godly affirmation and guidance. (Men have their own version of That Look, for the same reasons - but that isn't this post.)

(My inner engineer demands a definition of "successful men's ministry," so here's where I'm coming from: A group of men who grow in the practice of being little Christs. Head-learning is a small part. Heart-sharing is a huge part. Actions of compassion, service and worship occur from more from desire than duty, although both play a part. And none of the above is guilted or coerced - if someone's there because they think they have to be, they're in the wrong place. Finally, and this is important, fun.)

Bill Losasso, pastor of Pathways Community Church, which I blogged here, suggested I call Jan Broucinek for a good-news story.

In 2003, a few men decided to do a "Forty Days of Purpose" study. When they finished, it was a "hey, that was great, spending time with you guys...I don't wanna quit, let's do something else." They took up John Eldredge's book Wild at Heart to see what else God might do with a few men. Eventually they adopted the name Wildmen. Actually, their wives kept using the name, and it stuck. And if the wives were talking it up...well, the word got around that this was good stuff.

They kept doing successive studies and kept outgrowing facilities, which is a nice problem to have. The long story short is that there are Wildmen allies (more church-specific) and Wildmen outposts (church-independent) scattered around in several places, mostly in the Bay area but a few further north.

You can learn a lot more from their website, or drop Jan an email. But in short, these are small groups that offer encouragement, accountability, teaching, practice, and the occasional special event. (Anything called boot camp's gotta be fun!) For guys with a porn problem, there are groups ("Pure Desire") that can aid recovery.

They've found a kind of interesting niche - part parachurch organization, part church-men's-group-planter even. In this huge metro area (4 million people in the Bay area), people drive and gather only when they want to - and apparently, men want to. Now that's a miracle.

Jan gave me a quote that I really want to hang on to. Abraham Lincoln said, "Every man over forty is responsible for his face." Honest Abe also said, "I don't like that man. I'm going to have to get to know him better."

There are very few things in America that are wilder than taking responsibility for our attitudes and actions, and choosing to get to know "that ass over there" better. Sometimes we can find that there's more to the ass than, well, his ass. He might have a face behind his face. He might look like...me.

Do the wild thing. Please.

The World's Worst Missionary

Sorry for the spotty blogging here lately; I seem to have been consumed by the Infernal Revenue Service and my own morbid fascination/concern-for-the-people about the Japanese earthquake/tsunami story. (I'm not all that worried by the nuke - just the breathless, poor, nontechnical coverage of it.) The end is in sight for taxes and nukes, however. Meanwhile...

Yes, Jamie Wright calls herself The World's Worst Missionary. I call her the author of the most honest, refreshing, funny, and insightful blog I've seen in a long time. Maybe ever. She must have successfully avoided some of the missionary training I've heard about. Anyway, here's a sample of life on the field that you'll never forget. :)  Kudos to Andrew Jones for sharing her with the rest of us.

"One morning, just like any morning, I was putzing around the house in my pj's, picking up breakfast dishes, sipping on coffee, doing whatever. The boys had all left for school, Steve had gone to work, and the house was quiet and still. Just the way I like it. I took my Mac and my coffee to the couch where I plopped my big butt down to get some work done. (Um, alright, so we all know that "getting some work done" is code for "lurking on Facebook". But that just sounds bad, doesn't it?) Okay, so was I "working" and sipping and enjoying quietness and stillness, and just, generally, really liking my morning. That's when "The Very Awful Thing" occurred."      ........read the rest at.....
http://www.theveryworstmissionary.com/2009/10/this-really-happened.html
 
 

Why isn't the Bible free?

Jesus decided to come to earth for me long before I knew him. He decided, freely. We talk a lot about the free gospel - price paid, long ago, once for all. The day came when I decided to follow him; what that's "cost" me since has all been me giving, not under compulsion. Faith compelled isn't faith at all.

Christianity is about invitation and (voluntary) response, asking and giving, much more so than demanding and taking. (Next time you hear a preacher talk about "what the gospel demands from us," even via some wonderful old hymns like When I Survey the Wondrous Cross, check them against scripture. Try a word search on that word "demand"...good luck.)

So when I read the Bible, I find things like this: "What then is my reward? That, when I preach the Good News, I may present the Good News of Christ without charge, so as not to abuse my authority in the Good News." (1 Corinthians 9:17-18) Now I'm not ignoring the whole "workman is worthy of his wage" thing, but wouldn't it be nice if someone offered the Bible for free?

In case you didn't know: If you want to quote any of the modern translations of the Bible in any book or CD or video, you have to ask permission...and pay the man. When I was writing my book, I wanted to use quotes from Lord of the Rings, the song Signs, and 80 short passages from The Message version of the Bible. Small book, self-published, unknown author, no problem? Nope. Unbelievably, The Message was the most expensive; $500. And NavPress (the publisher) is just doing what all the Christian publishers are doing...Zondervan (HarperCollins) probably makes the most money from the Good New$ of anyone, through sheer popularity of the NIV.

For me, it was the last straw. What's happened to us? The publishing industry and our Congress have created a situation where the most valuable book in the world, which God freely gave to man, is never free...and we've stood by and done nothing about it.

Someone else apparently asked that question, and some better questions: "Shouldn't there be a free, public-domain, quotable, modern translation of the Bible for everyone? And shouldn't it be easily downloadable anywhere in the world? Don't we want this thing to spread like crazy?"

The people over at the World English Bible took a straight-up translation (which is literal, not interpretive) of the Bible, the American Standard Version. The ASV was public domain through its age, over 95 years. All they did was update the language a hair, losing the thees and thous. Presto change-o; free, accurate Good News for anyone and everyone, anywhere in the world.

The other long-term good news is that all Bibles will get cheaper over time - just the effects of the internet and continued competition between Bible translators. Unfortunate that it's a competition, but good side effects of returning God's word to its original condition.

Free.

 

All I Can Say

We visited our son at Ft. Hood, Texas, just prior to his Iraq deployment 2 1/2 years ago. While we were there, we drove just up the road to Waco so that we could go to church where David Crowder is the worship leader.  (And the band is the David Crowder*Band, just to be clear.) We'd all heard him in person a number of times, and he's a wonderful piece of work. Love the music; I think he's the greatest cheerleader for Jesus I can think of. But you gotta hear him speak...he just brings a point of view that's so simple and singular that it shouts "wisdom" and "compassion." Like that Jesus guy, you know?

So we showed up at University Baptist Church with like 400 college students and 30 people my age, and no, I'm not kidding. This is truly a student church, and it has a lot of that student-ministry feel to it: spontaneity, temporariness, transition, launching point, and PASSION.

We were about 20 feet from da man, and he came to a song we'd never heard before. I don't throw around the words hymn, anthem, and psalm very much, because most Christian songs (or any other songs, for that matter) just don't have that feel to them.  Lots of great music, love it, it just isn't those things.

"All I Can Say" is a psalm, like the ones that King David, the great psalmist, wrote. It starts with a heart-cry, a lament: loneliness, abandonment, hopelessness. It ends with a realization and a proclamation of God's presence and comfort. It's...Davidic.

It isn't a "God is my homeboy" or "God is amazing" or even a "Jesus will save you" song. It's a song that's elemental, basic, to our human condition. We're cruising along and things are fine, but the next time we reach for where we thought God was, he isn't there. Sometimes it's because he moved. Sometimes it's because we moved, or let ourselves get surrounded by circumstances instead of him. We cry out, and we discover eventually that he's been there all along - he just doesn't look the way we thought he did.

Well, to finish the story, David hit us with this emotionally raw psalm right before our little boy, who'd run himself and us over a rocky road for a few years, was going off to war. It was a good, deep weep.

David Crowder was an awkward, backward kid when a student minister named Chris Seay started mentoring him. Not too long after that, in the late 90s as UBC was starting up, All I Can Say was written. I kind of have an idea that the song came from a man who knew firsthand what it meant to be alone and unwanted, but learned also firsthand what it meant to be chosen by the King.

My prayer, as always, is that every single one of us, each one, every one, realize their chosen-ness by the King. Even when we're deep in despair, depression, or self-deception: "I'm ok, I'm born to be this way, it's not so bad, hey I've got it pretty good compared to..." God came to those who sin, who are blinded by own sins, and are wounded by others' sins against them. Of course we can't see him at first. (Why on earth do we think we would? That's another message...) But thank God, he teaches us to see. Our simple, but oh-so-hard call is to hear and accept his teaching example.

May you have peace in your house, and discover God today in the quiet, unexpected places and times.
  

Eli

I'm re-reading Bill Myers' book Eli.  Myers asks: What if Jesus had not come until today? Who would follow him? Who would kill him?

So you have a world of today that has never heard of Jesus.  And this weird guy shows up, teaching weird things, and doing weird (miraculous) things. Our protagonist, Conrad Davis, is a highly successful investigative reporter who starts off in our "normal" world and is thrust into that "abnormal" world by a near-fatal car accident. Conrad "knows" the story, but doesn't believe it...but when he starts to experience the story with Jesus, now that's when things start to happen.

Conrad is a bit like me, enough so that the old, old story still brings tears to my eyes. Anything that does that, always gets my vote. Bill has painted the old story in beautiful colors of compassion, truth, and intimacy. Find it, read it. Even if the normal-world parts of the story slow you down, you could actually skip them and still have a great reminder of Jesus and his love. And his willingness to do anything to catch us before the brink of eternity - it's never too late.

Shalom.

A cry from Christchurch...for us all

Andrew Jones is a missionary, blogger, and example for me of grace in the internet age. For the last 10* years he's written about the emerging church movement and other expressions of Christ across Europe and America. He's originally from New Zealand and about 6'5" tall, hence the name of his blog: http://tallskinnykiwi.typepad.com/.

He posted this a week ago, which I'm shamelessly reposting here. It seems that we always rediscover the real truths when the unexpected disasters happen. (But really, we know that disaster will come sooner or later - are they really unexpected? No. What if we acted on Sam's call before the C-word comes to us from the doctor, or the earthquake shakes us to our knees, or the hurricane removes our city? Perhaps there would be fewer statistics, and more relationships.)

Among the words that were spoken, two speeches seemed to strike a cord with me. The most profoundly simple and yet stirring was from Sam Chapman, leading Christian Maori spokesman.
"Why we do wait for a crisis to realise just how precious we are to each other? We've got a whole society out there saying, "Love me before I become a statistic! Don't wait till something goes wrong. Love me today!" I hope that out of the rubble, not just materially, but spiritually, psychologically, that the lessons we learn from tragedies like today, and there will be more . . . lets love each other! Lets not wait." 

Amen.

Irresistible Revolution, part 2

A few weeks ago, I mentioned re-reading Shane Claiborne's Irresistible Revolution, and put in a quote about finding your Calcutta. Here's another excerpt about the group he's a part of, contrasted with...most of our lives:

"We have always called ourselves a tax-exempt 501c3 antiprofit organization. We wrestle to free ourselves from macrocharity and distant acts of charity that serve to legitimize apathetic lifestyles of good intentions but rob us of the gift of community. We visit rich people and have them visit us. We preach, prophesy, and dream together about how to awaken the church from her violent slumber. Sometimes we speak to change the world; other times we speak to keep the world from changing us. We are about ending poverty, not simply managing it. We give people fish. We teach them to fish. We tear down the walls that have been built up around the fish pond. And we figure out who polluted it."

That little paragraph has more oh-crap-this-is-MY-problem in it than almost anything I've ever read: macrocharity, distant, legitimize, and above all, "violent slumber."

Are we sleeping? What if we came fully awake, fully alive?
 

In the Company of Heroes

Suddenly, he rose from his seat, dumping breakfast leftovers in the trash along the way. He hurried over to the woman being wheeled across the lobby in her wheelchair. She had "cancer" written all over her, with the tired, pale face gazing out from under a knit hat.

***

I went to Bardmoor Clinic this morning for a semi-routine blood test, then bought a muffin and some coffee. While I was puzzling over the coffee stuff, The Man had commented, "You must be studying that thing!"

"That thing" was the book Black Hawk Down, which I'm re-reading. The three Post-It notes betrayed my use of the book.

"Not exactly. Those are bookmarks; these two are where I quoted the book in a class for new engineers, and this one is for an upcoming men's group meeting at church.  You've probably seen the movie (he had); well, I had the privilege of teaching a class with Mike Durant a few years ago. He was the pilot of the second Blackhawk that was shot down."

"The opening picture Mike uses in his talks is this one (here I fumbled around looking for this photo); he calls it, like his book, In the Company of Heroes. Mike is the one on the right."

The Man peered closely at the photo, printed in grainy black and white: five fit young men in their thirties, smiling for the camera.

"Mike is the only one who survived that day in Mogadishu. He points to these men for that title. He also points to two men, Shughart and Gordon, Delta Force operators who volunteered repeatedly to go down and guard Mike's crashed Blackhawk, then died defending it. Defending Mike."

I indicated to The Man that he should go on and get his coffee first; "You look like you know your way around this place."

"Unfortunately, I do...my wife..." His voice trailed off.

We share a few more words, then part with our food to different tables. I supposed that he wanted to eat alone. I resumed reading Black Hawk Down.

Suddenly, The Man rose from his seat, dumping breakfast leftovers in the trash along the way. He hurried over to the woman being wheeled across the lobby in her wheelchair. She had "cancer" written all over her, with the tired, pale face gazing out from under a knit hat. He moved right in and took over from the hospital attendant, wheeling her toward the exit.

Her face was turned toward him. He was her hope, her help, her hero. Maybe, in the mysterious way of marriage, she was his hero as well. They went out the door, and out of my life.

***

Sometimes we're in the company of heroes and don't even realize it. But ah, when we do. I wish you could see Mike's face when he talks about Shughart and Gordon. Probably, you never will. But look around: not too far from you are men and women who lay down their lives for their friends, even for strangers. There are people around you who demonstrate the love of Jesus. Look for them, and re-find your tears the way I did.