I'm going off of my normal approach today and going a bit more technical and in-depth. I felt the need to reflect on how we think about people in regards to policies and platforms. This is a long essay. I'll get back to more typical stuff next week (maybe?). Thanks, friends. But he wanted to justify himself, so he asked Jesus, “And who is my neighbor?”
-Luke 10:29 As a pastor, I am not a fan of chasing headlines. I'm as exhausted as the next person when it comes to keeping up with what's happening around our country and trying to understand which things are actually legal or not in a democracy. It's a lot, and I know people of various perspectives who are overwhelmed. I've encouraged people over and over again to keep their eyes very simply on the way of Jesus and not allow each new headline to steal our humanity in one way or another. But from time to time, our elected political leaders oddly seek to offer Christian insights (rarely mentioning Jesus when they do, though!). And this is where I'm often drawn in to wrestle. I've spent a lot of time swimming in theological waters, and when someone leading our country suggests that God thinks XYZ... well, words have power. Recently in an interview about putting "America First," one of our highest-ranking US officials said, "I think it's a very Christian concept, by the way, that you love your family and then you love your neighbor, and then you love your community, and then you love your fellow citizens, and then after that, prioritize the rest of the world." And to give our politician the benefit of the doubt here, he is indeed talking about something that early Christian writers like St. Augustine and Thomas Aquinas mention, known as ordo amoris, Latin for "order of affections." Although Augustine used it to say that we must learn love for God first and then order all things from that, it's often been used to prioritize what's most and least important, particularly as it relates to who we give time and care to. It's a fairly standard idea. In so many ways, this makes sense. After all, most of my current time and energy is spent on caring for my family on a day-to-day basis. I'm not going to go pick up some random kid and give them a ride home from track practice while I leave Judah and Kylan sitting there on the curb. But if that kid needs a ride, are these really my only options? There are a few problems with all this. The first is that the Christian concept mentioned didn't originate with those early Christian writers at all. It came from a Stoic concept hundreds of years earlier called oikeiosis. And oikeiosis is not advice about the way things should be, but a description about the way things grow as we develop! The concept is literally about how healthy human growth "brings others into one's household." As a young child, we are only focused on ourselves. Then as we grow up a bit, our circles of concern broaden to love and care for our family, our neighborhoods, and then the entire world. The ultimate goal of growth, then, is that we care about all of humanity as much as ourselves. The concentric circles show how we grow to include more and more as we mature, rather than tell us how to prioritize. That's significantly different than a ranked priority list, and very much worth consideration. The picture above is the "circle of concern" developed by a Stoic dude named Hierocles in the 2nd century, and was intended to illustrate healthy growing love- not who gets cared about if we have a little extra left over. So maybe the conversation isn't really about care for our family. Maybe the question is if we are prioritizing our center circles in such a way that it's at the expense of any obligation to the rest of humanity. And that brings us to our next challenge. As people centered on Jesus, before we accept something as a "Christian concept" (not always a helpful phrase, honestly), we must ask ourselves: Is this a concept we see reflected in the life and teachings of Jesus? When Jesus was asked what the greatest command was, he was given a chance to give God's ordo amoris. And he gave two commands: First, love God (honor, prioritize, serve), and then, love your neighbor. I find it interesting that Jesus didn't say, "love your family," to start that second command. Maybe he knew that would be a no-brainer? Or maybe it's more beautiful than that. In fact, at one point in the gospels Jesus is told to prioritize his family because they are waiting to take him home, and he suggests to the crowd that everyone in the room is his mother and brother and sister. I don't believe he didn't care about his family. Instead, he was helping people see that the family of God is wider than the categories we often choose. There are two more worthwhile details about Jesus' response to the most important priorities question. One is that in Matthew 25, Jesus suggests that when his disciples cared for those who were struggling the most on the edges of society-- the poor, the ones in prison, etc-- that they were actually caring for him. So the first priority to love God was actually fulfilled when one of them showed compassion to a poor, hungry, imprisoned outsider! Wouldn't that be in the "loving neighbor" category?! I guess they're more connected than we realize. That blurs our circles! Now back to the original Luke moment. When Jesus tells his interrogator the second command is to love one's neighbor, he follows it with the famous Good Samaritan story. His story highlighted that a foreigner who was despised by Jews was actually the one who exemplified "bigger circle" love better than the victim's own people who walked on by. The one who prioritized the outermost circle in a moment of need was the hero. This gets us back to our point. What can happen is that beneath a very rational comment about priorities, the intention can actually be to find a loophole which allows us to clarify who we can keep outside of our love. And that doesn't match the example of Jesus, friends. This is why ranking who is most deserving of love is not a Christian concept, especially if it leads us (in any way!) to then decide that some are "undeserving" of care. We have enough love and mercy in us to include the outermost circles. It comes from God! The reservoir is limitless! Now here's the thing (this may be unpopular): this does not automatically demand one single political view about something like immigration policy, for example. We can have various understandings of the role of government and what the best border or immigration approaches should be. BUT what this does demand is that those claiming to follow Jesus must think and speak about those inside and outside our country as "neighbors." We must never start seeing any other human as less deserving of mercy and dignity than another. There is no place for that kind of hierarchy. Therefore, there is no place in the kingdom of Jesus for sweeping labels, for dehumanizing someone by calling them "an illegal," for dismissing people as "getting what they deserve," or for delighting in the suffering and legitimate fear of children. I'm hearing hatred and dismissal coming out of far too many Christians who have been told that it's permissible, because certain people and other countries are simply outside of our responsibility or concern. Empires can believe that. But not you and I. There is no ordering of Christian love that requires us to exclude another person from care. As disciples of Jesus, we must always seek out humane, compassionate approaches to our neighbors. This is regardless of our ultimate political values. So go ahead and advocate, all Christians from diverse political backgrounds. You may disagree about the best way to approach things on the large scale. But, for the sake of the integrity of our faith, let's be certain that policies we support and call for include the actual Christian concept of concern for all people involved. Each one bears God's image, especially those on the edges of our circles. That's the point. Jesus, don't let us try to gain the whole world and lose our souls. Peace, Keith
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![]() God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble. Therefore we will not fear, though the earth give way and the mountains fall into the heart of the sea, though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging. -Psalm 64:1-3 Let's do something different today. There are so many words being put out there right now. So many perspectives to read, so many things to scroll, so much to get anxious about. Many of those things are valid; some are a result of our inability to disconnect from things that spike our dopamine levels up and down and increase our rage, our anxiety, or our sense of superiority. This week I'm not desiring to add to that. Today I'm drawn to simply remember God's holy invitation to take a step during the storms (whatever they may be) to find refuge in his presence. The earliest writings about God in the scriptures speak of God as "refuge," a "shelter," an "ever-present" place of protection. Many of us have experienced that. And yet, we often neglect the opportunities to shelter in God because it requires stepping away from the raging winds for a few moments, and for whatever reason, we find that to be very difficult. What if we miss something important!? What if we don't feel productive or helpful for an hour?! Can we trust that God gives us permission to breathe deeply and exhale slowly? I'm fascinated by how just a little movement can shift our perspective and re-ground us in our identity. Turning off a phone, having a cup of tea, reading a book, sitting deeply with a prayer, taking a slow walk with Jesus, sitting in stillness and listening for the reassuring whisper of God. I've come to learn in that even in the midst of intense seasons where the wind is always whipping, God's refuge is never more than a few feet (or choices) away. I was given an embodied lesson of this deep truth while I was finishing a sabbatical pilgrimage last year walking from Scotland to the coast of England. I want to share a 90 second video from that experience. Don't worry, you don't need to hear what I'm saying in the first 15 seconds. You won't be able to anyways, the wind is too loud. That's kind of the point. (click the picture to view) So today, friend, what steps will you take to seek out shelter and find some rest in God's care?
Jesus, shelter me from all sides on the days the storm rages. Peace, Keith Look straight ahead, and fix your eyes on what lies before you.
-Proverbs 4:25 One of the weird things about having teenagers is realizing how much language has shifted from a few decades ago. There are constantly new phrases working their way into rotation, and old words taking on fresh meaning. I lost all pride associated with trying to be relevant years ago, so now I just ask a couple times a week, "What does that phrase mean now?" One phrase in particular isn't too hard to decipher, but it's definitely risen to prominence in our household the last few months in the lives of my teens and their friends: Locked in. Now, it's nothing revolutionary, but it's used all the time around here. It means you are in the zone: "Saquon Barkley is so locked in right now. Look at his expression on the sidelines. He's ready to go." (Yes he was.) "That race didn't go well. I wasn't really locked in during my warmup." "I was finally able to get locked in for a bit and finish my homework." Locked in is just a 2025 way of saying "focused." But it's a better way to say it. It gives you this physical sense of someone who is not bouncing around in lots of directions. It's about a mindset that allows the main thing to stay the main thing so that somebody can really excel. Or, conversely, it's a way to describe how someone's focus and mindset is all over the place, so they're not going to do their task very well. So this month every time I hear that phrase, I've been thinking about what it means for disciples of Jesus to be locked in during the coming year. This is a struggle for me. I feel everything, all the time. I'm overwhelmed by all that needs to be done in the world, not always knowing my role. I go down rabbit holes sometimes, or sit here trying to solve endless issues that aren't even mine to solve. I foolishly start scrolling fresh debates on social media and then just get irritated at the world and values that are spoken but not embodied. And then sometimes I just ignore everything and watch Eagles highlights for waaaaay too long. Totally not locked in. While some of those things may have a place in my life (maybe) for 5 minutes, it's not the calling that we have right now as people of Jesus. We are called, like the writer of Proverbs says, to look straight ahead and fix our eyes on what lies before us. It's a prequel to what the writer of Hebrews wrote, to "fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith." We are called be people who, regardless of the social, political, or personal landscape of our lives, embody the spirit and the character of Jesus minute by minute. We are called to be imitators of the heart of God in everything that we do. That means it's going to look like integrity, compassion, truth, self-control, kindness, and love. And the greatest of these is love. It will require prayer. It will require healthy life rhythms. Living deeply has always required this. I love the way that author Eugene Peterson paraphrased the expanded Proverbs passage 30 years ago: Keep vigilant watch over your heart; that’s where life starts. Don’t talk out of both sides of your mouth; avoid careless banter, white lies, and gossip. Keep your eyes straight ahead; ignore all sideshow distractions. Watch your step, and the road will stretch out smooth before you. Look neither right nor left; leave evil in the dust. (Proverbs 4:23-25 MSG) I believe my teenagers would say that describes someone who is locked in. There is always so much swirling about as we learn to live as disciples of Jesus in the United States. Every single day, a million lesser kingdoms are courting us for our attention and allegiance. We need not ignore what's happening in the world around us. But as we engage with the right focus, it will enable us to be curious, courageous, and compassionate (I find those things almost impossible to balance if I'm not keeping my eyes fixed on Jesus). It means we will look to be the helpers, so that people will know us by our love and not our rhetoric. It means we will live beyond dualistic attitudes that try to label a person as either good or bad. Let's make a shared commitment to be "locked in" with eyes on Jesus, created in God's image, empowered by God's spirit, and intended to do good works in God's world. Jesus, fix my eyes on what lies before me today, so that all I do would build your kingdom. Peace, Keith You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.”
-Luke 3:22 We don't talk enough about belovedness. This past Sunday is historically the day that we remember Jesus' baptism. I was teaching from Luke 3 this year and spent my time on the wild and weird witness of John the Baptist, so I didn't focus on the final lines of the narrative when Jesus himself goes under the water: "When all the people were being baptized, Jesus was baptized too. And as he was praying, heaven was opened and the Holy Spirit descended on him in bodily form like a dove. And a voice came from heaven: 'You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.'" First off, I LOVE that Luke just has Jesus embedded in the crowd. A man of the people, waiting in line with the others, probably listening to people talk about this powerful prophet, John. Maybe Jesus leaned over and whispered to someone, "That guy's my cousin!" Jesus doesn't need to get baptized, but he chooses to anyway. Jesus is simply among the others, validating this beautiful action of making a fresh start and receiving God's forgiveness. It's a super humble thing to do, and it gives us a glimpse into the humanity of Jesus and how he never felt the need to prove himself to anyone (keep that in mind for later). And that's where the holy moment comes in. When Jesus gets baptized, God's voice emerges from the heavens. And we might expect to hear something like what we hear 6 chapters later during the transfiguration, when the voice of God proclaims,"This is My Son, whom I have chosen. Listen to Him!" That's a solid use of the moment, in my opinion. Make sure everyone around hears it and get's it. This is God's guy, listen up everyone!!! But in this baptism moment, the voice doesn't come to the rest of the crowd. It's spoken directly to Jesus. And God speaks only one thing: belovedness. You. You are my child. And I love you. And I'm so happy with you. God could take the opportunity to make a booming declaration. But what the Father prioritizes in this moment is not a message for the crowds, or a loud command, or a fresh theological statement. It's an oddly parental moment: Jesus, who has not yet done any ministry, any teaching, any healing...... Jesus is SO beloved by the one who has sent him. And what we then find in the coming chapters is a man who had learned to live out of his belovedness. A man whose identity in God was so deeply rooted, that he didn't need to prove himself, even when challenged, tempted, and falsely accused. We see a belovedness so deep that Jesus' message to people would mirror the message of that baptism. Fear not. You are worth so much to God. God loved the world so much that he sent his son to redeem it. As the father has loved me, so I have loved you. That's why we can read this story and hear God's same words whispered to us. "I love you. You are my child. You delight me." We are in a belovedness drought right now. Maybe it's because there's so much division. Maybe it's because it's hard to talk about love when lives are being destroyed by fires and people are afraid for their future. Maybe it's hard to feel beloved when you can't pay your utility bills and yet there seems to be a new billionaire in the news every day. Maybe when others have harmed you, it's hard to remember that you are so much more valuable than how you've been treated. It might be hard, but we are people of truth. So let's choose to echo the voice of God in each others' lives this year. You are beloved. You are beloved. You are beloved. Lift up your eyes and sense the Spirit of God reminding you that you are loved before you've done a thing. Find ways to speak belovedness to others this week. Send a text, speak a word of care, remind someone that they are valuable beyond what they produce or contribute to the world. And let's start normalizing a reality where we live deeply from the love we have already received, rather than spending our lives trying to be worthy of it. Jesus, thank you today for your preemptive love. Peace, Keith *Artwork: Baptism of Christ by Vladimir Zagitov ![]() If I must boast, I would rather boast about the things that show how weak I am. -2 Corinthians 11:30 So I'm sitting here on my quarantined couch after being thoroughly destroyed by illness for the past 2 weeks. It was a bed for about four days, but I was recently promoted to the couch because of good behavior. Pneumonia has been ripping through my lungs, and has turned the first days of 2025 into one long and pathetic coughing fit. I don't go down often. But when I do, I fall hard. My body completely shut down this week, and I was of no use to anyone. But far worse than that, I was a burden to everyone. I needed people to bring me food, bring me blankets, turn off the lights, and take me to urgent care. I needed people to fill in for me at church, and to take care of things on their own that I would normally be partnering with them for. I had to cancel meetings and admit that I couldn't even pull off a zoom call. I was weak. We all have scripts that run through our heads about what we believe about ourselves and our world. Many are formed decades ago. I've discovered over the past year that one of the false scripts I've lived by is "I am not allowed to be a burden to anyone, ever." I don't know where I picked it up over the years, but it's in there deep. I am the strong and capable one. I make things right in the world. I help people when they need me. I keep things consistent and moving in positive directions. If I'm ever a burden, I've failed. (Yes, I'm aware of the hubris behind such thinking.) Pneumonia has it's own script: Screw your little narratives. I'm your daddy now. Embracing weakness can be an immense challenge for some of us. Even harder, in fact, than the often celebrated virtues of selflessness and servanthood. I have found that even though the desire to help others and offer selfless care is indeed is a high virtue, learning to graciously accept help from others and admit weakness and limitation.... that's actually harder for most of us to do. I don't know if it's fair to judge spiritual virtues based on how difficult they are to live out, but if so, then perhaps admitting our need and weakness before others is every bit as formative to the soul as our ability to give our energy in loving others? It may be "more blessed to give than to receive," but my goodness, receiving actually feels more costly me to sometimes. I can care for others and still hold onto my belief that I am the above the need to be helped. I can give time and energy to others all while thinking "I love to help people (but if I'm ever in that situation, I'll be fine to just handle things on my own)." I think this might be one of the reasons God gives us community. It's not simply so that we can learn to help others. It's so that we can learn the humility of being helpless and receiving care (the soups, prayers, and texts have been amazing!). Similarly, I think maybe this is why God gives us the gift of weakness. At times that we are highly capable, we rarely learn what it looks like to truly trust God's goodness. It's only in moments of true weakness that we have the opportunity to be empty enough to be filled in fresh ways. And to rest in the fact that we are enough, even when we CLEARLY AREN'T. This is the message the Apostle Paul learned when he heard the whisper of Jesus saying, "My grace is sufficient for you, because my power is made perfect in weakness." So I'm trying to start off this year nice and weak. I'm seeking to be a person who is able to share where I need help as easily as I offer my help to others. Perhaps you need a weak start to the year, too. If you're feeling weak, or if life's circumstances have forced it on you, may you have courage to not always be strong. I'm working on it with you. And maybe that's where God will do the most beautiful work in us. Jesus, thank you for the love we have been given, especially when we're faced with how limited we are. Peace, Keith “Dear friends, let’s love each other,
because love is from God, and everyone who loves is born from God and knows God." -1 John 4:7 “Son of God, love’s pure light..." This famous lyric from Silent Night seems like an appropriate way to describe Jesus this advent. Jesus arriving in the world is the full expression of the light of God’s love. The central word for love in the New Testament is agape. It’s not a romantic feeling or a nice attitude. It is the essence of selfless goodness for the sake of another. It’s self-giving, other-oriented, and enemy-loving. The Apostle Paul writes that a love like that...never fails. The time of Advent is a time of preparation to receive Jesus once again into the world. That means it’s a perfect time to explore our experiences of agape love- from God and from each other. And even if we’ve struggled to sense that love, it’s a chance to dream a little about what God’s love could look like in our world. It’s a re-imagining... -------------- The above paragraphs are from my introduction to LifePath's 2024 Advent booklet. Every year we gather submissions from anyone across our church community, as we reflect together on our theme. This year, the theme is Agape Love. Folks have written their own stories, scriptural reflections, poetry, and insights for us all to experience together each day of Advent (and beyond!). They are honest and diverse perspectives, borne out of honest faith. Every December, I pause my Together for Good weekly writings so we can amplify other voices of encouragement. If you'd like to read along with us this month and you're not an active part of LifePath Church locally, fear not! We bring you good tidings of great joy! You are invited to read along through our the digital version. It won't take long to catch up. Here's the downloadable link to our 2024 LifePath Advent booklet. Together for Good reflections will resume in January. Jesus is coming. Watch and wait. Love, Keith ![]() I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit. -Romans 15:13 I looked out the window this morning and noticed that all my bird feeders were empty. I keep six out in the yard that are regularly used. Any day you look out there, you'll see at least a cup of black oil sunflower seeds, shelled peanuts, or a half pecked suet cake. Many days, everything is brimming full, because I love the look of it and I love the life it brings. But this time, all was empty. I don't know exactly when it happened. Maybe there was a lot of need from the birds the last few days. Or maybe it was more because I wasn't paying attention for this past week. But some way or another, it was all empty. And that made me sad, because a full feeder, in a weird way, fills my soul. It reminds me of God's provision for me and the earth. It reminds me that God's eye is on the sparrow. It reminds me that life is all around me, if I take time to notice and care. It reminds me that beauty and color are still out there, even in the darkening days and cooling air. For whatever reason, a full feeder moves me toward life in Jesus. So noticing six bare, empty feeders was actually a little alarming. I felt the need to stop what I was doing and take some time to fill them up. For my sake. For the birds' sake. Really, for the sake of everyone and everything. I want to invite you to look out the window today and take notice, friends. What do you see? Are there wells within your soul that have gone empty? Have jobs, tasks, responsibilities, global worries, and exhaustion depleted the spaces in you that bring joy and connection with Jesus? Have you been going strong for a long time, and realize that you've been pouring out energy and not receiving the love and care needed to sustain it? Jesus longs to pour his spirit into you so that color, joy, and life can flourish. But we are so formed by the busyness, distractions, and responsibilities of life that we convince ourselves we don't have time to receive the good gift. Or, we simply forget that it's even available to us in the first place. You have the time to ask Jesus to fill your soul, friends. You have the time to rest and be known. You are given it as a gift of grace. If you notice you're empty, take time to be filled. At the risk of sounding too pragmatic, I'll offer a few simple ways that this could look for you today:
You are beloved. Jesus, fill the depleted places in my soul today. I trust you. Peace, Keith ![]() "Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up." -Galatians 6:9 We've got a large section of woods behind our house. After we moved in 4 years ago, we developed a simple trail that weaves through it. It's less than a quarter mile long, but full of deer and foxes and birds, and it's beautiful to stroll through it and embrace God's natural beauty. That trail is where dozens of these TFG reflections have been sparked. It's a sacred space for me. It's my job to maintain the trail, but I had NO idea how much work it would require. It's certainly not a major priority in my life compared to parenting, pastoring, coaching, and almost everything else, so every now and then I lose track of what's going on back there. I've been so overwhelmed that I've almost given up some years after the spring growth, when the wisteria vines and the high grasses make it almost completely impassable. Or after a major storm when the brittle white pines come crashing down and completely block everything. Those moments take focused hours of sawing, weedwacking, and "machete-ing." But the biggest issue may actually just be the little sticks and branches that fall every day. There are so many of them on the trail, just waiting to turn your ankle or trip you. Recently I've had no capacity for major trail cleanup, but I've still needed my regular ten minute walks back there. So I've adopted a new habit. Instead of being overwhelmed by all the sticks, I just pick up a dozen noticeable ones every time I walk, tossing them off the trail. I know I don't have the capacity to clear off all of them. And it's possible that my cleared sticks each day may be outnumbered by new ones that fall each night. So I may not even be making a dent! But it keeps the trail passable, and it does make a difference. And it's kept me from giving up altogether. Jesus never called us to save the world, though most days I pretend he did. Jesus called us to be known by his love. Jesus called us to love our neighbors. Jesus called us to give when someone asks. Jesus called us to notice the hurting man on the side of the street. Jesus called us to forgive one another over and over again. Jesus called us to trust his work. There are times where the massive realities of a broken world seem too big for us to fix, so it's easier to just be resigned. "Hey, life is brutal and people are hurting but that's just the way it is." Or, we can seek to control everything and everyone around us, mentally obsessed with things far beyond our control and letting the pressure of fixing it all burn us out. Then we end up bitter and hopeless after our failed crack at being the savior. Resignation or burnout. Pick your poison. Or. We can pick up a few sticks every day on our daily walk. We can understand that there is too much to be done, and some of it is ours to do. We can be the people who offer the kind word, who check in on a friend with a text. We can be the ones who volunteer for the causes God has put on our hearts, and who relate to each other as image-bearing people who matter. We can be generous with our time and money to those around us. We can include the excluded. But most days, it's probably going to be small and local rather than than grandiose and global. If we want the world to know the tangible love of God, then it has to start with our own neighborhoods and workplaces and friendships. It's like that goofy story of the kid on the beach finding thousands of starfish washed up after high tide. And he's throwing them back into the ocean. And a cynical old man walks by and calls out to the kid, "You know, you're not making a difference." And the kid looks back at him defiantly, tosses one more into the waves, and goes, "It made a difference to that one." There's a reason that story made it onto so many bookmarks. I'm not suggesting we don't care about global issues or get involved in the systems that cause them. But I am suggesting that God restores our humanity when we spend time tangibly loving face to face, and we must never neglect that. Today, let's invite Jesus to help us make a difference to one. The world is too big and the news is too loud. We will either learn to love the people in front of us, or we will live paralyzed by how much there is to do. Jesus, help me be faithful with the work that is mine to do today, and trust you with all that is not. Peace, Keith For he himself is our peace...
-Ephesians 2:14 God, how could this happen? That’s what some of you are thinking right now. Others are exclaiming, “Thank God! What a disaster that would have been!” Full Disclosure: I don’t actually know what happened. This was written earlier this week before it all went down. I felt the need to remember that the message actually stays the same for us as Jesus people. But those above thoughts are here with us now, I promise you. I'm not feeling witty or eloquent these days. I just want to think about how we keep our souls and our witness in this moment. Most every one of you reading this lives in the United States. And I know everyone reading this would like to see our country thrive. But whether you are outraged/discouraged/disappointed or pleased by the outcome, there are things that haven’t changed. Now, I am not for a moment suggesting that it doesn’t matter who is leading. It does. Many lives will be affected by who is in the White House for the next few years and the words they speak and the choices they make. Both policies and leadership attitudes have actual impact on the people of this country and beyond. But. Some. Things. Haven’t. Changed. America is still not the kingdom of God. It wasn’t in 2016. Or 2020. And it’s not in 2024. America is still not the hope of the world. That role has already been filled. The president is not our Lord or Savior in any way, despite any claims that they or anyone else makes about them. If you think that because the right one got elected, that all is well in the world….. you’re wrong. If you think that because the wrong one got elected, that there is no hope in the world….. you’re also wrong. By all means, it's ok to be discouraged or be pleased, for a few minutes. And then return to your calling. Our work remains the same as it did in 2000, 2010, 2020, 2022, 2023…. well, you get it. Act justly. Love mercy. Walk humbly. (Micah 6:8) Forgive our enemies. Love our neighbors. (Matt 5:44/22:39) Practice hospitality. Welcome the stranger. (Romans 12:13) Keep ourselves from being corrupted by the powers of the world. (James 1:27) Wash each other’s feet. (John 13:14) Give to those in need. (Acts 2:45) Do not work for food that spoils, but food that endures to eternal life. (John 6:27) Grasp that the secret to being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, free or in chains... is the peace of Christ. (Phil 4:12) Live as citizens of the Kingdom of God and God’s ambassadors in the kingdom of America. (Phil 3:20) We are so tired, aren't we? Let me speak for myself. The political circus and obsession with power in the United States takes a big toll on me personally, and probably many of you. It's not hard to get tears flowing lately for a number of reasons. It is now the air we breathe and the water we drink. We can hardly get away from it if we try (though I do have a few friends contemplating moving abroad for these reasons). But our energy comes from God, and our hope remains in God. And that is where the strength continues to come from to live faithfully in a world divided. Empires rise and fall. It happened with Babylon, Persia, and Rome. The US is not exempt from history. Yet we live with the knowledge that we are citizens of an unshakeable kingdom- a kingdom that has given hope and perseverance to generations across history and across the globe with far more difficult experiences than most of us have ever experienced. God is faithful and will continue to work in our world- in and through us, and sometimes in spite of us (thank God). The church has an embarrassing history with power, violence, and cuddling up to national systems. We have long been a country that uses constant language about God without actually knowing God. But the church has also been a subversive movement of God's call to justice, reconciliation, and forgiveness. And the Spirit is drawing us into that all the time. So I ask you right now- beg you, actually, to be known by the characteristics of Jesus, and not the pseudo-Christian identities led by politics. Certainly, good and kingdom-like things can happen through political action (they can), but the third way of Jesus transcends tribalism and protectionism. And it rejects the notion that the only way to change things is to have all of the power. We cannot read the temptations of Jesus and somehow believe that “our party" (yuck) in the white house is the main way that the kingdom of God will advance. Remember friends, Jesus’ political platform was a wooden cross. Christians have joined in some unholy alliances, and we must walk carefully. As Tony Campolo said of a Christianity that becomes enmeshed with political allegiance… it’s like mixing ice cream and manure. It doesn’t do much to the manure… but it sure ruins the ice cream. So friends, neither gloat nor despair as you consider your feelings on how our government ought to function and who our latest caesar is. Give to Caesar what is Caesar's and give to God what is God’s (Mark 12:17). You know what Jesus meant with that, right? Caesar can have his money and power with his image imprinted on it. It will not last. But God’s image is imprinted on your very bodies and souls. You belong to God. Never forget that- and give yourselves fully and completely to the work of God in your life. God has placed his image on something far more valuable than anything our government could give or take away. You are sacred to God. So is your neighbor. So is your enemy. Come, Lord Jesus. Peace, Keith Seek the Lord and his strength; seek his presence continually.
-1 Chronicles 16:11 I grew up in a family that loved music. We often sang a prayer before meals. The song that we sang the most often had been handed down through my mom's family. And the first line was, "Be present at our table, Lord... God is love, God is love." Asking God to be present is really just a human way of reminding ourselves to be present to God, isn't it? Because most of us believe that God is always present already. If we believe anything about what Jesus taught us, it's that God isn't coming in and out of our lives like a neighborhood mailman, quickly dropping a few things off here and there and then maybe seeing us again tomorrow, if the timing works out just right. God's very name,Yahweh, is often translated as "I am who I am." Jewish rabbis like to point out that Yahweh is literally the sound of the breath that we take in and out... the constant moment of life coming in and out of our body in the present. And Jesus, in the best moment of in-your-face, grammar school! in the New Testament, tells the Pharisees, "Before Abraham was... I Am." It wasn't just a declaration of Jesus' shared identity with the Father. It was a reminder that God's very nature is always present tense. So, yes, God is indeed present at our tables. It's actually us who may not be. To put it in more culturally relevant terms: It's me. Hi. I'm the problem, it's me. It can be challenging for me to live in the present moment these days. Do you feel that too? It's so easy to have our minds and attention on anything other than what is right in front of us. It requires us to move beyond the worries in our heads, or the hurts of our past, or the endless narratives scrolling on our phones. Some neuroscience suggests that the human experience of the present lasts exactly 4.4 seconds. Beyond that section of your consciousness, you enter a world that that does not yet exist (future). And anything that occurred before the 4.4 second segment that you're currently in is now stored in a different spot in your brain (hippocampus) as short-term memory. You literally started reading this article in the past. You are now in a new present. Whoops, now you're in a new one already again! But you're still thinking about that past one aren't you? Please, keep up. You're living in the past. Just kidding. But as disciples, learning to be present is crucial, particularly in the place and time we find ourselves in right now. The beauty of an ever-present Jesus is that he does not live in the past, the future, or far away in the distance. And he reminds us of the pitfalls of them all. Jesus teaches his disciples that worry is just a poorly imagined future and accomplishes nothing toward what's real: trusting God in the present. That's where God is and it's what God is doing. The risen Jesus also tells Peter, who had decided that his past was destined to define him (failure, wounds, denial), that the present moment was one of reconciliation and hope. There was fresh work to do, and Jesus isn't one to hold grudges. So he snaps Peter into the present to get on with the work of the kingdom. I bet that when Jesus asked Peter, "do you love me?" on that beach, that Peter was completely present in that nail biting, life-changing 4.4 second "now" that was occurring over and over again during that conversation. Now was the time to step into his next calling, not sulk in the shadows. Living in the 4.4 seconds of the present with God and others is scary and dangerous, because it requires us to step into trust. We can't control the future, and we cannot hide in the past. But this is what makes us most capable of love and connection. How many times have we missed God-given opportunities to love and care because we are not fully present to what's in front of us? There is much going on in our world. Some of it you can have influence over. Much of it you cannot. You might be tempted to live in fear (future-oriented) or in resignation (past-oriented). But in the coming week, let's live well with a humble ear to the Spirit--every four seconds or so-- and an eye to see the people and moments in front of us. In doing so, may we meet God and follow Jesus in truth and in love. Jesus, keep me present to my own breath and Yours this week. Peace, Keith |
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