 “In this world the kings and great men lord it over their people, yet they are called ‘friends of the people.’ But among you it will be different. Those who are the greatest among you should take the lowest rank, and the leader should be like a servant.
-Jesus, Luke 22:25-26 San Francisco’s Pier 39 is famously known for its lively waterfront vibe and restaurants. But it also has a unique natural phenomenon. Only a few feet into the bay, a colony of sea lions has set up permanent residence on a series of floating docks. They moved in after an earthquake in 1989, taking over an entire section of the local marina. After residents were unable to get rid of them, they embraced this new reality, and the Marine Mammal Center helped to create a protected space for their new urban hangout. Now, any time of the year, hundreds of sea lions call Pier 39 home. Though there are a lot of sea lions, there is also quite a bit of wooden real estate available. There’s enough room for all the blubber to get a little sun. And yet, inevitably, when you visit the marina, you will see that scores of sea lions spend all of their time defending their turf. They bark at each other, stick their chests out, and play a slippery version of “king of the floating dock.” One will leap out of the water and climb up a raft, only to get bull-rushed by whichever sea lion happens to be near the edge. And back and forth they go, until one or both of them just gives up. When you see the whole dock, it looks a little ridiculous to see this need to push others away. Not to mention that these guys are not made for land, so they just look like idiots throwing their flippers around chasing each other. It looks like a dance-off where the only move allowed is The Worm. But the moment they enter the water, doing what they were made to do, they become magnificent creatures again. They flip and spin, weaving around each other. It’s beautiful. Every day, we have a choice to make with our lives and our attitudes. We can choose to defend our turf, while being suspicious of everyone around us. We can see people as a threat to our livelihood, our happiness, or our belief system, and treat them accordingly. Or, we can follow Jesus. Jesus speaks to us of abundance of time, energy, and resources. Jesus teaches us to look at others graciously and with a servant heart, being unafraid to share a bit of space. Jesus teaches us that what we have is God’s anyways, so constantly worrying about our goods is the last thing we need to be doing. Perhaps you have fallen into the trap lately of looking around at others through the lens of competition. Perhaps you are listening too much to your news station of choice, and you’ve become convinced that everyone is out to get you. Maybe your job constantly tempts you to climb rank among your coworkers. Or perhaps you just find yourself constantly irritated at people around you. Much of the world lives like that. But honestly, we look unnatural when we do. It’s not what we are made for. Our version of barking can be critical comments toward others (with them or behind their back), or even a critical spirit when no words are said. It accomplishes nothing. But when we welcome each other into our lives and when we seek to serve, and when we're unafraid to give up our ground (and swim if that gives rest to someone who needs it) ... that's beautiful. There’s room on the dock, friends. Stop jockeying for position. Take some time this morning to be present enough with Jesus to experience God's love. As you do, it will transform how you see others and how you respond to them throughout your day. Jesus has come to rescue you. The pressure is off. Extend your flipper to the one in the water. Jesus, help me to release the worries or competitions that distract me from living fully. Peace, Keith* *I'm on sabbatical, so Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well!
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 I give you a new commandment—to love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another.
-Jesus, John 13:34 And so we are transfigured much like the Messiah, our lives gradually becoming brighter and more beautiful as God enters our lives and we become like him. -Paul, 2 Corinthians 3:18 It’s difficult to become the truest version of ourselves. Every one of us lives with some amount of desire to project ourselves in the best light possible. Sometimes we’re not even sure what our real selves might look like, because we’ve spent so much time sizing up the people around us. But deep within the soul is a desire to be truly honest. To be known for who we are beneath the surface, even if it’s not always pretty. The scriptures have a word for that. Love. The Velveteen Rabbit was written 103 years ago by Margery Williams. It is a timeless children’s tale of a stuffed toy bunny who is transformed by love. When he arrives new in the playroom, the velveteen rabbit hears all the other toys bragging about how real they are, because they have noise makers and wind-ups and mechanical parts. The velveteen rabbit doesn’t have these things, and he thinks that’s what it must mean to be real. So he asks his friend the Skin Horse, who has been made wise by age, and had seen many many mechanical toys come and go when they broke over time. So the velveteen rabbit asks the Skin Horse one day, “What is real? Does it mean having things that buzz inside you and a stick-out handle?" 'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you. When a child loves you for a long, long time, not just to play with, but REALLY loves you, then you become Real.' 'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real you don't mind being hurt.' 'Does it happen all at once, like being wound up,' he asked, 'or bit by bit?' 'It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't happen often to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.“ Go ahead and stop your multitasking and read that last line again. It’s ok to cry. When you are loved, you can’t be ugly. And you are, each one of you, dearly loved. Geez, that old skin horse. That brother gets it. The power of love is the power to make things real. We so often think of being “authentic” as something we choose to do, yet it can more accurately be explained as what Jesus does to us. When we experience the true and honest love of Jesus, day by day, we find that our shiny lacquer of an impressive looking exterior fades away. It can be painful as Jesus wears away areas of selfishness, apathy, and ego from our hearts. And yet because we are being loved in the process, it’s beautiful as well, for we are being freed to be known as we are...and loved anyways. That’s what makes us real. The gift is that as we become real, we can love others without pretense as well, and aide in their journey of becoming real too. It’s messy, and often painful as we imperfectly figure out how to care for one another. Yet it is far better than rejecting real community. To isolate ourselves is to make becoming real impossible. This is why participating in Christian community is so important. There are many folks today, Christians and not, with sharp edges, who break easily, who have to be carefully kept. Let us instead become people who have been well loved by Jesus- not easily breakable, and softened over time. Let us become real. Even if we feel worn thin, we can rest assured that we can never be ugly in God’s eyes. Jesus, make us unafraid of being loved. Peace, Keith* *I'm on sabbatical until July 7th, so for a while Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well!  So here’s what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him.
-Paul (Romans 12:1 MSG) We are often taught to have big goals and lofty ideals every time a new season starts (year, birthday, whatever). To some extent, there's nothing wrong with that. It's not rare in our church for us to encourage people to not be afraid of taking new bold steps of faith. But it's a double edged sword. Even as you read this, I'm out on sabbatical, and in the months leading up, one of the most annoying mentalities I've had to fight is: How can I make sure that my time of rest achieves lots of big things while I'm gone so that I can show how much I accomplished and grew? But as I've reflected on the constant pressure to go big or go home all the time, a thought began to stir in me. Christians often (rightly so) ask Jesus to help them determine what their big tasks and priorities should be. And they expect that for it to be meaningful, it must indeed... be big. God, what enormous and amazing thing am I supposed to do this year/in my 40s/in my work/etc??? Now, I'm not going to claim I heard God's voice. But I'm not going to deny the possibility either. Because each time this thought comes up over the years, I've heard this simple phrase... Big things are great, but I really want folks to do the dishes. -God (possibly) So I've been thinking about this. And I think "doing the dishes" is about more than just doing the dishes. A heart and mind that is being transformed in Jesus looks at every person, moment, and task in a new way. Dishes and laundry around the house are completely thankless jobs that most people avoid. They never end. The moment you take care of them, another meal comes along, another day wears through clothing, and the pile comes back again. IT WILL NEVER GO AWAY. EVER. EVVVVVVVVVVVVERRRRRRRR. Am I inspiring you yet? But that's just it. What if the biggest priority to achieve in the long, slow journey of discipleship was inviting God to transform the smallest moments that repeat over and over again? What if we, as an entire group of people, submitted ourselves to being changed by God's love while doing dishes or while driving to work? What if we decided that the mundane moments of our lives that everyone overlooks would become, in us, opportunities to serve in joy? Opportunities to show love? Opportunities to enjoy God, even? What if I willingly served my family or roommate by stepping up to do the dishes, and then took it a even further by seeing each dish as a metaphor for how Jesus continues to renew me every day in my ability to receive and express His love? Is it possible this would shift how we view those days that leave us feeling used up, broken down, or just plain dirty? What if each day we remembered that we are that dish, but grace is constantly renewing us? Don't you think that would change your life, maybe in big ways? As a disciple of Jesus, our greatest fulfillment will not be found by inviting God to redeem each moment. I hope you have grand goals and I hope you achieve them. But might I encourage you to make one of those goals a willingness welcome the in-between moments of life with joy and intentionality, so that there would be no area of your life where Jesus is not Lord. Because maybe a start to accomplishing big things for Jesus, is hearing him invite you to you to do the dishes really well. Jesus, transform today's normal moments so that every minute might be an experience of your love and grace. Peace, Keith* *I'm on sabbatical until July 7th, so for a while Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well!  Search me, O God, and know my heart;
Try me and know my anxious thoughts; And see if there is any hurtful way in me, And lead me in the everlasting way. -David, Psalm 139:23-24 When I was a kid on trips to the beach, there was always one big goal while playing in the sand just out of reach of the waves. The mission, and we always chose to accept it, was this: create a fabulous ocean view hot tub to soak in. Now granted, the tub would not be hot. It would be quite cold, full of murky, foamy water with lots of little floaties in it. And rather than a tub, the sand walls would constantly cave in and mix with the water. The result was tiny little sand particles jammed in every crevice of the human body, with no real hope of a pearl ever emerging as a result. Honestly, it was pretty gross, but we didn’t care. The real key to this project was the digging down. We started in the dry sand and we dug as deep as we possibly could until we hit water and couldn’t dig any more. If we didn’t dig deep enough, the hot tub would just keep draining out. The deeper we dug, the more likely we could actually keep water in it and even fill it up. And that was hard work. The hard work always lies with digging deep. American author Ann Dillard writes about the necessity of “riding the monsters of our violence and terror” deep into the depths of our souls. When we do, we eventually break through them and find something good. Essentially, we find water and we can start to fill up. I think she’s pointing to the deep internal longing for God’s grace, whether or not she has that language for it. If we do not go inward and downward, then the darkness within us will always be projected onto those around us. It's fascinating that in Psalm 139, David is proclaiming God’s love and constancy, but he gets distracted by those who cause him stress, and his prayer becomes full of hatred and revenge. He cries out to God to kill the wicked, and states his absolute hatred for them. But then he pauses, as it seems the Spirit nudges him. And he immediately turns inward, because he senses that his righteous anger is quickly overtaking him... Search my heart, God. See what’s deep within. Where there is ugliness, lead me out toward the way you’ve designed. What an amazing prayer. The inward journey is uncomfortable and scary. Inviting God to dig deeply into our lives means that some walls will start to cave in. We will come face to face with our weakness and insecurities. It’s easier to remain on the surface. The insightful Christian leader Parker Palmer, in Let Your Life Speak, writes about the challenge of inviting God to dig deep within. “Why would anybody want to take a journey of that sort, with its multiple difficulties and dangers? Everything in us cries out against it— which is why we externalize everything. It is so much easier to deal with the external world, to spend our lives manipulating material and institutions and other people instead of dealing with our own souls. We like to talk about the outer world as if it were infinitely complex and demanding, but it is a cakewalk compared to our inner lives!” Preach it, Parker. There is no way to hide from the inward life. It will eventually catch up with us, so it’s better if we get into it and move through it. Jesus says that unless we die we won’t find life. It’s only in facing our shadows of false identity, fear, self-reliance, and competition that we can move through them to the other side of value, love, trust, and humility that Jesus provides. That’s the sort of place I want to sit and soak in. We’ve moved away from the contemplative life. Let's move back toward it. Sit in silence with Jesus this week. Invite a holy inspection of your shadows, but delight in the reality that you are dearly loved through all of it. Be unafraid to invite a friend or family member to walk with you in the inward journey. And in it all, ask Jesus to lead you in the everlasting way. It’s worth the effort. Jesus, draw me deeper. Peace, Keith* *I'm on sabbatical until July 7th, so for a while Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well!  I do not call you servants that I own anymore. A servant does not know what his owner is doing. I call you friends, because I have told you everything I have heard from My Father.
-Jesus, John 15:15 Then he looked at those around him and said, “Look, these are my mother and brothers. Anyone who does God’s will is my brother and sister and mother.” -Mark 3:34-35 Just imagine this scenario: You’re a fifty year old woman and your daughter has traveled into town to spend the morning visiting with you. You go to a cafe and walk through some parks. It’s such a good day. You cherish the time together. The next day, you’re having coffee with one of your good friends and she asks about your time. You tell her what a good day it was. Then she says, “I’m so glad to hear that! What was your takeaway?” “Um….what do you mean?" "I mean, what did you get out of it?" "Well that’s kind of a strange question. I’m not sure how to answer. She’s my daughter. We just enjoyed our time together." "Oh. Well what did you talk about most of the time?" "I can’t even remember. A lot of things. Some small talk. And some of the time we were just together. I’m not sure you really understand how this all works.” Would you respond similarly to those questions if you were the woman? I would too. Yet it seems that when we speak of the relationship we have with Jesus, those are the sorts of questions we get used to asking ourselves and each other. Are we missing the point a bit? We live in a world heavily influenced by the values of efficiency and productivity. We want everything that we do to accomplish something. It’s a part the American mindset. But here’s the thing: we rarely think about time with friends and family that way. And according to the New Testament understanding, Jesus is both friend and family. Why is our language about time with Jesus so often laced with subtle assumptions that it must have results to be meaningful? That every time together is supposed to be a big life lesson, rather than just an enjoyment of being together? Certainly, there will be times with friends and family where we accomplish great things together and have profound conversations. But there’s also just….. hanging out. Jesus is your lord, your friend, and your brother. Hanging out together is enough. Will you have deep and memorable conversations sometime? Absolutely. Will that be the reality EVERY SINGLE TIME you hang out? Absolutely not. But that was never the point. The first thing that Mark mentions about why Jesus calls the disciples is so that they might "be with him.” That's the point. Purpose and action emerge after that. Many Christians think that they are not getting anything out of times of prayer or stillness with Jesus if it doesn’t feel productive. They’re missing the point. We spend time sitting and walking and talking with Jesus because prayer and presence shapes us in ways that we can’t describe. We do it because that’s what you do with the people that you love. You spend time with them. And that’s enough. Nothing has to be accomplished. Dwelling in stillness with God is not important because you walk away with something. Your time is good because you are choosing to walk with someone. A productivity mindset may actually hinder you from being transformed by God's love. Maybe you’re turning a gift into a task. Lay off the guilt and pressure and see how much delight there is out there. Each day has plenty of tasks and expectations. Connecting with Jesus doesn't need to become one of them. That’s good news. Enjoy the freedom. Jesus, help me rest in your presence. That’s all I need. Peace, Keith* *I'm on sabbatical until July 7th, so for a while Together For Good will be highlighting our favorite reminders from the archives. Don't worry, if I can't remember writing half of them, I'm hopeful they'll be fresh reminders to you as well! |
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