 So we have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. At one time we thought of Christ merely from a human point of view. How differently we know him now!
-1 Corinthians 5:16 "Reno up, Reddy on deck!" A spring day feels like forever ago, but a moment in April keeps coming back to me. Plus, the Olympics start this week, so it's relevant! Since I don't coach in the spring my evenings are free to cheer on my kids and enjoy being a parent in the stands. But I do have a track and field background, so every now and then I get pulled into helping out at their meets (yeah, right. We both know I love it). It was a home track meet and I was asked to officiate the long jump. I gladly agreed to help out, secretly happy that I would have a reason to be on the infield and get a great vantage point for the competition. But it had been a while since I last did this. And I had completely forgotten how much hard work it would entail... Call out the jumpers name. Make sure the approach lane is clear. Confirm that the takeoff foot didn't foul. Mark the landing spot in the sand. Measure the jump. Record the jump. Rake the sandpit flat. Repeat. I was glad I had some teenage helpers. But as the day wore on with well over 100 jumps, we all started to get tired. And when we got tired, do you know the first thing that suffered? The raking. And that makes sense, because it's by far the hardest task. Preparing the sandpit after every single jump for the next jumper takes real effort. It’s unfair to the next athlete if you leave holes or mounds in the sand when it's their turn. They need to be given a smooth, fresh surface to land on. It doesn't matter how much the previous jumper messed up the sandpit. The next jumper deserves a clean slate. A couple times when my sweaty student volunteers got a little lazy, I grabbed the rake and did a few extra passes, reminding them that it needs to be flat for each jumper, even though it was tiring. Hold up a minute. What an interesting commentary on life as we relate to one another. Sometimes previous experiences with people leave us exhausted for the next ones. We've been hurt, and we've simply had interactions that require a lot of emotional energy. This is simply the reality of being human. And I have no doubt that I've been the one in those categories for other people, too. But when someone creates a fairly deep dent in my sandpit, it can be exhausting to rake it smooth for the next person I come across. It's all too easy for me to leave holes and hills for my next encounter. I become a little less gracious. My cynicism and judgment takes over, or my quick ability to form a bias emerges. I bet he's got complaints too. People are just so exhausting. I know this type. One of the great tasks of a Christ follower is to become so deeply formed by Jesus that the words of the Apostle Paul ring true for us: We have stopped evaluating others from a human point of view. (2 Cor 5:16) As disciples, we learn to see each interaction as an opportunity to display and convey God's radical love to others. We prepare to meet each individual with hope and wonder, ready to recognize the image of God in them. As we encounter others, we do so with the awareness that God has made us new, and therefore we see them with humility and care. In these moments, cynicism will not dominate our interactions with others. Challenging moments we've been through won't destroy our ability to welcome others into our lives. This means that we have to do the daily work of raking our pits freshly before each person we meet (in my head that phrase didn't sound so much like personal grooming). This means praying for people more. This means taking moments to soak in God's love and grace throughout every day. This means seeing people from a sacred point of view. We want to lead with graciousness, not with cynicism. This is the way of love. Each person that God brings in front of us gets to receive a slate as fresh as the one that Jesus gives us each day. This is especially hard to do when we're tired(lawd have mercy!). Or hungry. Or digitally overstimulated. Or overbusy. So I need to make sure I'm rested and ready for full days of raking. You probably do too. Because we Jesus people no longer look at others from a worldly point of view. Jesus, help me live your reconciliation. Peace, Keith
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 Then he breathed on them and said, “Receive the Holy Spirit." -John 20:22 This past Sunday at LifePath Church, I started sharing about some things God was teaching me during my week walking St. Cuthbert's Way from Scotland to England last month. I want to reflect further on one moment that I shared. I was walking across Northumberland National Park in northeast England on day four. The day was gorgeous, and I could hear a bird singing beautifully, but couldn't find it. Thankfully, my trusty birding app identified the call as the Eurasian Skylark. I would later learn that this is one of the world's most famous songbirds, written about by generations of English poets and naturalists. Some nearby day-hikers with binoculars helped me a few minutes later. They told me that the reason I couldn't find this little guy was because he was hundreds of feet up in the air, and pointed him out. In order to impress and find a mate, the male leaves the ground and spirals upward, singing louder and louder as he does. These larks can reach over 300 feet high while using up all they have in their lungs. When they reach their final height they sing their hardest. And then, they simply fall. Straight down. No flapping. They just lock their wings in a part-parachute-part-torpedo position and drop, their call getting quieter and quieter until it disappears. And then the lark does too, landing beneath the scrub, with no breath left. It's amazing to watch the climb, and it's amazing to watch the fall. You can certainly take that in a bunch of different directions, can't you??? The beautiful Skylark was created to function like this, but it's less beautiful when we do it. Even so, our lives often become very skylarky (new word). The problem here isn't about having solid work ethic, or ending our days good and tired because we've spent our hours well. That's great. The problem is when our lives are defined by a roller coaster push to be more impressive, followed by the ugly fallout when we reach our inevitable limits. We are not as graceful in our falling as skylarks. We weren't made for that. The need to outdo whomever we deem is "the competition," the desire to be loudest voice, and the complete expenditure of all of energy before crashing back down to earth are all marks of modern life. Even within the Christian journey, we often lack sustainable rhythms, and we crash. Sometimes emotionally. Sometimes physically. Sometimes ethically. Sometimes spiritually. We end utterly exhausted, totally out of breath and on the ground. And sometimes we hurt others as we do, too. Lots of people feel out of breath lately. Do you? There is hope. When Jesus offers his spirit to his disciples, he breathes on them. And when you learn a bit more, it really starts to come together. The direct translation for the word for spirit in both Hebrew AND Greek is literally "breath" (ruach/pneuma). The Spirit of God is given as a life-breath to disciples. Jesus intends his breath to fill our lungs, to sustain us, and to move us beyond the constant push-stall-crash that is all too common throughout our lives. When humanity runs around yelling as loud as it can, becoming out of breath, and landing hard, Jesus offers us a deeper way. A way of sustained, deep breathing. It's a way that doesn't need to be louder than others. It's a way that doesn't lead to impress. It's a way that won't lead to personal burnout. It's a source of energy that simultaneously slows us down and renews our energy for the long haul. When we take time to breathe in the Spirit of God, we not only find ourselves refreshed with new energy, but we start to see that there is a much more beautiful way of life that avoids a damaging red-bull-like crash, whether that is emotional, spiritual, or physical. This is one of the reasons that breath prayers can be so powerful. They teach us to bring to mind the promises of Jesus, allowing God to fill our lungs with them and sustain us in a fresh way for lives of discipleship. [Inhale] You hold all things together. [Exhale] I can trust you. [Inhale] You are with me always. [Exhale] I find rest in you. [Inhale] I am weary. [Exhale] Your love sustains my work. May you sing beautifully today. Yet not with the need to sing with perfection, louder or higher than anyone else. And may you pause before you are depleted, and breathe in the sustaining power of God's love, so that your work might last and bear fruit for God's kingdom. Jesus, breathe into my tired body and soul. Peace, Keith   For the Kingdom of God is not a matter of what we eat or drink, but of living a life of goodness and peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.
-Romans 14:17 Hello, friends! This week I am emerging from my rest and renewal sabbatical over the last 3 months. I find myself joyful and refreshed, and ready to re-engage in my pastoral work once again. (Sorry for all those R-words. Pastoral alliteration doesn't just magically vanish after a sabbatical.) My time away was necessary, and it included many diverse experiences. I traveled, rested, prayed, read books, and adventured. I met Jesus again in fresh ways. I have stories to tell, and they'll emerge in the coming months through my writing and preaching. But even as early as mid-April, while I was sitting alone on the coast of Puerto Rico, this little thought crossed my mind. I'm going to have to go back to the real world at some point.... Since then, that thought and others similar to it have always been there. People asked me in June: Are you ready to get back to reality? I'm sure it'll be tough to enter the real world again! Now I'm thinking differently. Why is it that we assume that unique moments of rest and goodness are not real life? What is it in us that pushes us to exclude these from "reality?" It can do some real damage in both directions. Let's rethink this mentality in light of Jesus. When Jesus came, he revealed to his disciples that there was a whole reality that they had not been in touch with. In fact, he reminded them that much of what they spent their time and energy on wasn't actually the deepest reality. He flipped things. In moments of revelation and wonder, he showed them what was real and true in such a way (think about the transfiguration and ascension) that it changed the rest of their life's moments. Conversely, he also taught them that the kingdom was around them all the time. There was no time or place that God's good life was not accessible, if they were moving with Jesus and looking for God at work around them. This is an extraordinary reminder: even the most typical, mundane moments are dripping with grace if we are in tune with the love of God. Every moment is an opportunity to respond to God or express God's care. Going "back to reality" as we might say... does not need to be this tragic, joyless buzzkill as if God only hangs out on mountains. Remember, Jesus changed all that. Perhaps much of our lives are actually not spent in reality: endless worry about things we have no control over, stress about priorities that have little lasting value, constant obsession with having enough or being enough? We may have convinced ourselves that it is, but according to Jesus, that's not real life! What is real life? Real life is being able to rest in the fact that Jesus is a trustworthy Lord, and we don't have to fill that role ourselves. Reality is when we are aware of God's goodness and presence enough to live in that deep truth, wherever we are and whatever we're doing. I'm living in the real world right now in my coffee shop office. And I was living in the real world when I met Jesus among Franciscan monks on the coast of England. Both were real, because both belong to God. Real life is whenever we realize how real Jesus is in life. And that, my friends, can happen in the middle of a work day or as you're preparing dinner for your family. It can happen when you're having coffee or tea (maybe) in the morning as you first encounter a new day with all it's possibilities. It's whenever God's love flows in and out of you. My friends, let's not create a little bottle of holy moments and beautiful experiences that we seal off as "not real life." They are absolutely real, and remembering that allows them to spill out and help us see goodness and rest and grace and connection with God everywhere. I'm glad to be back in the real world this week. But the last season was the real world, too. Because it's all full of wonder, full of grace, and full of Jesus. So is your workplace. So is your kitchen. So is your upcoming vacation or your day off or a powerful retreat. It's all an opportunity to encounter the living God, and that's the deepest reality there is. Jesus, open my eyes to the reality of your kingdom all around me, in big and small ways. Peace, Keith  My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit;
a broken and contrite heart you, God, will not despise. -Psalm 51:17 I remember the story from a friend as she shared an image of one of her baking pans that had been dropped on the floor. It was really disappointing because she really liked it and had used it regularly for years. As she collected the broken pieces, she took a look at them before throwing them out. Suddenly she realized that in the past she had never been able to use it in her toaster oven because the muffin pan was too big. She always had to use her large oven, even if she only needed to bake a few muffins. The lesson was this: Surprisingly, the newly broken pan was going to prove to be more usable than ever before. Now it could fit into multiple places, and it could be used for smaller numbers as well as larger ones. Initially she had thought was that there was no more usefulness when it shattered. Now my friend noticed that new things were possible- precisely because of the brokenness. She immediately started using it in new ways. This is a hard lesson to grasp, and one that we must learn to receive time after time throughout our lives. The pain we experience as a result of the brokenness of life will open new doors if we allow it. New doors of empathy, of growth, of compassion, of maturity. There will be spaces in the lives of others that we could not previously fit into until we are broken. But now we can sit in that space, understanding and walking alongside. We may also find that when our own capacity feels more limited, it is in these moments that we become more available to the supernatural strength and power of the Spirit of Christ that Jesus has breathed into us. Sometimes the more capable I am, the less trust is required, and the less of God I grasp. But the less capable I am, the more I identify as poor in spirit, and the more available I am to be blessed and used by God. So let’s follow the arguments that the Apostle Paul responded to in his ministry: Does that mean that we should seek after brokenness so that we can be closer to God as a result? Should we try to go through pain and heartache and even sin so that we can say, look how much God is growing me afterwards! Obviously not, friends. Brokenness is one of the things in life that we don’t need to seek after. It will come. We will get dropped on the floor and fall to pieces. That’s the reality of a broken world and real people with real choices to choose right or wrong. What we can do, though, is decide if our broken pieces should simply be thrown away. We will decide the level of our worth as we take stock of the shattered pan on the ground. Will we hear the words of Jesus as we do? Even the very hairs on your head are numbered. Then neither do I condemn you. Come, follow me, and I will send you out to fish for people. My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness... My friend decided not to throw away her pan. She decided to keep owning it. To keep using it. To even see new value that wasn’t there before. What a beautiful image. Our pain will either make us more sensitive or more calloused. Our frustration will make us more compassionate or more harsh. Our losses will create empathy or bitterness. Our failures will fill us with grace toward others, or convince us we are no longer useful. Those possibilities will be determined based on one thing, and one thing alone: Will we invite Jesus to transform our broken places? If we allow God’s grace and love to enter into all the areas in our lives that are not what we wished they were… then we will become people who overflow with love and humility and gentleness. The world will be drawn to us… and drawn to Jesus in the process. Our brokenness is not a liability. It can indeed be the reason that God can finally use us in new ways for good. What kind of a God is this, who chooses the foolish things of the world to shame the wise, and the weak things of the world to shame the strong!? (1 Cor 1:27). It’s ok to sit back in wonder at all of that today. Amazing grace. Jesus, take what feels broken in me today and use it for good. I trust you. 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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