 "Therefore, everyone who hears these words of mine and puts them into practice like a wise man who built his house on a rock..."
Jesus, Matthew 7:24 I got my camera out for 20 minutes a few days ago for the first time in a few months. I was in my yard shooting hummingbirds, one of my favorite things to photograph. As soon as I came inside, my 12-year-old daughter started asking if she could pleeeeeeease use my camera. Admittedly, I can be a little possessive of my camera, but she can be very persistent (see Luke 18:4-5), so I eventually gave in and started encouraging her in her skills. We talked about which way the light was moving and how to hold the camera in a steady way. It made me think about discipleship, and about one of the first times she used my kit. It was in Puerto Rico in April. We were on a special trip during my sabbatical. Everyone was about ready to get to the beach. The towels were packed, breakfast was done, and each of our family members was walking out from our tiny rainforest airbnb toward the rented minivan. Then I saw a flap of a wing and a quick blur of color. And I was gone. No one really saw me grab my camera and walk around the house, but they figured out what was going on when they all got into the car and I wasn't there. Now, was this my most considerate moment as a father? It was not. But to be fair, earlier in the trip I told everyone that I reserved the right to stop for pictures of special birds at a moment's notice. Because it was my sabbatical, dang it! The family was going to have to be ok with that if they wanted a chauffeur and a credit card for all of their adventures. My adventures had wings. Ok, back to the plot. Don't miss the point by criticizing my parenting. The next morning a very similar situation happened. Although this time I was the one sitting in the car with the family ready to roll. And Sariya was the one who had gone missing. That didn't land great with the other siblings, so I went and found her about 30 yards away with my camera, chasing a bird. Me: "Honey, we need to get going." Her, slightly irritated: “Dad, now I understand. It’s way better to be the one taking the pictures than the one sitting in the car waiting.” Oh. Yes. Yes it is. And this is what it means to be a disciple. Jesus' purpose on earth was to initiate God's kingdom. He accomplished that in two ways: Through 1) his own life and atonement (disarming the powers of sin and death) and 2) creating a movement of disciples who lived out God's reconciliation and compassion in the world, empowered by the Holy Spirit. The word for "disciple" in Greek is mathetes. It means "learner," but not in a classroom way. It means an active participant, an apprentice who learns to live a life of love and faithfulness through hands on practice. This is not studying a book to ace a test in "Surfing Techniques Class." This is sitting on a board in the ocean to feel the swells of the water, wiping out gloriously, and learning a little more each time from your instructor and trying things out. I've always had a complicated relationship with the normal way of "doing church" in the United States. Outside of singing together, most models are very passive. One or two people do most of the talking, and the rest sit there. While I believe there is value in having a shared teaching and theme for a community to focus on together, we need to be very aware that this is just one piece of the journey, and should never be seen as what it means to be a Christian. If anything, it's a few minutes of rest together every week before the people of God get back into the real work of apprenticing Jesus and loving their neighbors. Let's persistently find ways to get our hands on the camera and start taking pictures. Let's work out our faith through fresh and active steps toward service, love, compassion, and connection. And let's not miss opportunities to invite people to share in seeking God's beauty and expressing God's love alongside us. By the way, the above picture was taken by my daughter this week, not by me. Where are you drawn to a more active discipleship this week? It doesn't have to be huge. We make most of our progress in life through small steps, not large jumps. Jesus, lead me into active apprenticeship with you each day, starting now. Peace, Keith
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 The Samaritan woman said to him [Jesus], “You are a Jew and I am a Samaritan woman. How can you ask me for a drink?” (For Jews do not associate with Samaritans.)
John 4:9 The challenge is literally as old as our Bible itself. We see someone who fits into a single category, and we then fill in all of the rest of the gaps with our assumptions. The formula goes like this: I can see that you are a (blank), so I know that means you are also (blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank blank.) All of our additional blanks, then, keep us from listening better, learning more, and forming relationships. Why look at someone with curiosity when I already know all I need to know about them? Over and over again, Jesus gives his first disciples (and us) surprising glimpses of people who would otherwise be seen as one dimensional. And it always leads to fresh connections and barriers breaking down. The woman at the well in John 4 was shocked because Jesus was a Jew, so that meant he was arrogant and standoffish around Samaritans. She also saw his gender as a huge barrier. When he spoke to her, she learned that some of her blanks were wrong. When the disciples returned, they saw the woman and made similar assumptions about her as she spoke with Jesus. Jesus helped them see that their blanks were incorrect too, as she headed back to town to share good news about Jesus. A Samaritan evangelist! I promise they weren't expecting that. Matthew was a one-dimensional tax collector until Jesus helped people see him in a new light, and it brought out the best in him. Mary Magdalene was just a wounded and troubled woman to many, until they saw her faithful heart and listened to her testimony about meeting the resurrected Jesus. There is so much more possibility to people than our categories allow for. Jesus brings it out in his stories. And because of that, Jesus teaches us to be careful about what we think we know. Bethany and I were hiking in a gorge this weekend to celebrate her birthday, along a beautiful whitewater tributary to the Susquehanna River. Two miles in, we came upon a group of 4 Amish couples. The women were dressed in prayer coverings, dresses, and without shoes. The men had plain shirts, Amish hats, and black dress shoes. And they were whitewater kayaking. I didn't know that Amish people were adventurous. Seriously. I didn't know Amish people even enjoyed recreation, to be embarrassingly honest. I didn't know much. But as I watched them laughing and hauling their kayaks over boulders past a waterfall while having lunch, I realized that I certainly thought I knew plenty about them. Why do we fill in so many gaps about people? Why do we think we completely know someone by the way they dress, or talk, or vote, or date, or whatever else we can notice from a distance? For us in the US, the next few months will bring a fresh wave of tribalism. Labels, assumptions, slogans, and sound bites will drive us into our ideological corners, promoting assumptions about all the people out there who don't look or think like us. We will be wrong, and we will not be living as disciples of Jesus if we play into that game. The problem is not in having opinions or convictions. The problem is the way we think and talk about those who don't share them. Friends, let's ask good questions. Let's assume goodness and complex humanity in the lives of people we're quick to make assumptions about. Let's not be surprised when we see a group of Amish kayakers, and let's constantly remember that Jesus reveals new layers in people that go beyond our quick assumptions. We are complicated composites of family, culture, life experience, wounds, and DNA. You know it's true for yourself. Make sure you acknowledge that it's also true for your neighbor. Keep your blanks from getting filled in too quickly, beloved. Jesus, I can only see a tiny glimpse of anyone. So lead me be gracious with the rest of them, rather than judgmental. Peace, Keith  Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me
all the days of my life, and I will live in the house of the Lord forever. -Psalm 23:6 There's a very unique event in olympic cycling called "the pursuit." Two teams of four start on opposite sides of the indoor track (the velodrome). When the race starts, both teams take off, each one trying to accelerate enough to catch up to the other team and overtake them. It's an intense race that takes only 4 minutes. Whoever is closer to the other team by the time they complete 4000 meters wins. Here's the funny thing. In this sport, hardly anyone ever catches the other team, or gets caught by them. Even though they're pursuing and a winner is declared by time, there's rarely resolution to the pursuit itself. Watching some of these races and hearing the word "pursuit" so many times made me think about a Psalm that I've been reflecting on for months. As a shepherd, David saw his relationship with God through a familiar lens. God was his shepherd, relating to him in many of the same ways that he cared for his sheep. And he wrote about it with some of the richest poetry we have in all of the scriptures. But it's the last line that I sat with again this week. Surely your goodness and unfailing love will pursue me all the days of my life. The idea of something pursuing us can be a little unnerving. And we can certainly feel that here, if our image of God is one who is angry, disappointed, or disciplinary. Who would ever want to be caught? But David is clear to say that it's God's goodness and care that are always following after him, never far off. This is not a God who is constantly frustrated with us, or a shepherd who begrudgingly heads out to corral the wandering sheep. This is the king of love, who so deeply cares for those who bear God's very image, that the Shepherd will always be chasing after them and opening doors for them to experience that love, justice, wholeness, and relationship. It's that restorative goodness that will bring them to life and make the whole world thrive. When it's God's goodness and mercy pursuing you (literally God's "steady lovingkindness"), well, that's a beautiful pursuit indeed. Much like the biking race, our life of discipleship is both an invitation to pursue God, as well the grace-filled awareness that God is pursuing us. It's a cycle. Sometimes we'll reach out and touch the goodness of God by seeking it out. And sometimes we just need to SLOW DOWN in order to let the beautiful goodness of God catch up to us. Because God is there, constantly heading in our direction, constantly ready to join us and transform us. But we often lack the ability in our stressed-out, busy minds and schedules to look back and welcome the love of our pursuer. When you think of God pursuing you, what sort of image and feeling to you get? Is it full of love and goodness and mercy? Because that's' the sort of pursuit we are invited to see in this Psalm. And it seems by the witness of Jesus and his words in the gospels, he would affirm that this is indeed the nature of God that he came to fully reveal. Jesus doesn't say "I am the shepherd" in John 10. He reminds us, "I am the good shepherd" (italics mine). God's goodness is integral in his shepherd leadership. Finally, much like the Olympic cycling pursuit... the chase never actually resolves. Even if you have moments where you sense and grasp God's goodness and mercy, there are more close behind, ready to peel back another layer of your soul and shape you in a new way for the sake of the world. Keep your eyes open; God's love and mercy will indeed be pursuing you every day for the rest of your life. You are being pursued today. But don't be concerned. If you get caught, you might just get a fresh experience of the love and goodness that you were always intended to receive. Because when God pursues you, love is always the result of the takeover. Jesus, open my eyes today to how your goodness has been chasing me, even if I haven't allowed myself to be caught. Peace, Keith  “You have heard that it was said, ‘Love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your Father in heaven. He causes his sun to rise on the evil and the good, and sends rain on the righteous and the unrighteous."
-Jesus, Matthew 5:43-45 A few weeks ago I heard a pastor speak at a conference. He spent some time lamenting the divisions, the culture wars, and the overall disintegration of dialogue that we have in this country. He pointed out how the church is not very different than the world around us at modeling a better way. Truth. He turned our attention to words of Jesus, which is always a helpful thing to do. We reflected on the most challenging teaching of Jesus (Matthew 5), when he tells his disciples the posture that they are to have toward their enemies in order to fully express God's kingdom ideals. I must admit, I lean in every time someone brings up this passage. It's one of the most countercultural statements that Jesus makes. It's the most difficult and most remarkable action of discipleship. And these days it's so relevant, because we sure are quick to place people (and groups) on our "enemies" list. The speaker went on, "Jesus calls us pray for our enemies. We are to commit to praying for God to do a work in our enemies. LORD, do a work in our enemies! Amen? Amen." Nearly everyone nodded and said, "Amen!" I did too. It was a good encouragement. But. Most times when you hear the words of Jesus and find yourself nodding in quick and easy agreement, you need to take a moment and carefully reflect. Following Jesus is usually harder and more costly than we tend to think it will be. And in this case, there was so much nodding in the room, right after the hardest saying of Jesus. Were we missing something? The statement given was a fine encouragement, but it was incomplete. Here's why. There's a problem with hearing that Jesus says to pray for our enemies, and then praying that God changes our enemies. The risk here is that we can be praying for our enemies in word, but in reality we are just spiritualizing our conflict with them. Jesus doesn't simply say that we should pray for our enemies. He says that we should love them and pray for them. It isn't just the action of the prayer, but the posture of it that is so crucial. Of course we believe and hope that God is able to bring transformation in our enemies' lives.... just like God is able to bring transformation in ours. But it's quite possible for me to remain angry and arrogant in my posture to my enemies, all while praying for God to set them straight because they are just acting so stupid. In doing so I re-interpret the point of Jesus' words to mean: "Pray for them, so that they get fixed." But looking at the person of Jesus, that's not what he meant. Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, that you may be children of your father in heaven. Our father's love looks like acting for the benefit of another. It looks like pushing aside our own self-importance and prioritizing the person next to us. It looks like humility and care and sacrifice. It looks like wanting goodness in our enemies' lives....even if they don't change. So my praying is intended to be an extension of that love. Jesus is inviting you into praying for goodness to fall on your enemies. He's asking you to start moving beyond the issue or conflict, and embracing them as co-humans once again. Jesus is inviting you to love them like God does. So when we do the hard thing and pray for our enemies, we don't simply pray that God sets them right. We pray that they experience the fullness and goodness of God's love and beauty and care. Here's an awkward truth: On at least some level, you are likely on someone else's "enemy list". Keep that in mind. How would you want them to pray for you? What sorts of things would you want them to ask God for, as they bring you before the King of Love? What would you desire their posture to be, when they pray for their enemy and it's you? Let that instruct your prayers as well. Jesus, may your love and goodness fall on all those whom I am tempted to put on my enemy list today. Peace, Keith  “If a man has a hundred sheep and one of them wanders away, what will he do? Won’t he leave the ninety-nine others on the hills and go out to search for the one that is lost?"
-Matthew 18:12 Scotland has so many sheep. There are nearly 7 million of them dotted around the landscape. There are only 5.6 million people in Scotland, so the odds are not in humanity's favor if they decide to revolt. And they frequently do, but they're not smart enough to really get organized, so they just sort of run around and it hasn't been a problem. Dogs and shepherds have been able to keep things under control so far. On my 80 mile walking pilgrimage in June, I was very excited the first time I saw a flock. Then I quickly realized that no one respects you in Scotland if you act excited to see sheep. Because they are literally everywhere. They're on mountains and in towns, fenced in and roaming free. I lost track of how many there were. And based on what I saw, I gathered the farmers did too. I didn't even see one shepherd out there. And no one, I tell you, was keeping watch over those flocks by night! But one day while walking, I passed the ruins of an old castle that had been fought over during the Scottish/English border raids 500 years ago. And right there before me stood sheep number 38. After initially wondering if this was what Scottish teenagers graffitied for fun, I came the conclusion that all the numbered sheep in this area had been marked by their shepherd. I had passed many sheep out on the hills without a name or number, but in this case, there was a spreadsheet somewhere with "sheep number 38" written on it. Someone would know and care if that sheep wandered off. It was a modern reminder of one of the foundational stories Jesus tells us about the character of God. God is a loving father-shepherd who is always looking out for his flock, ready to go chasing after them if even one of them lost their way. This is especially important because it is human (and sheep) nature to lose our way frequently. We're misled by distractions, stubbornness, sparkly things, selfishness, false posts shared on the internet, that sort of stuff. But the story is this: God's heart is one that seeks out, draws back, and restores to community (with God and one another) over and over again. We are not nameless bodies in a sea of crowded humanity, who are forgotten when we wander off. We are named and known by God, and pursued when we move out of the Shepherd's care and relationship. Spray painting these sheep was a helpful way to notice if any were missing. Perhaps Jesus would have used spray paint if it were available to him at the time? Probably unnecessary. Maybe the fact that we are created in God's image can serve as our own spray paint: a reminder that we are known and seen and belong to a caring shepherd. I don't know. But I do know that Jesus reveals God's core character, and it is a character that knows you deeply and sees you as his own. It's a character that will set out after you to help bring you back into restored relationship and not out wandering alone, where it's easy to fall into (and cause) real harm. Are there places that God has been pursuing you, inviting you back into a land of care and love? You may have to turn around a little to notice that the Shepherd is right there, out in it with you to bring you home. Are there areas where you have distanced yourself from others? Little spots where you've lost your way? I don't know why it can be so hard to admit that we lose our way regularly and need to be drawn back..... especially because Jesus tells us that the Shepherd is overjoyed, not angry, at finding and restoring the wanderer. Knowing that I'm marked and known by God (and that God knows even the hairs on my head, as Jesus says in Luke 12) is a reminder that God is always excited about reunion. Are you feeling a little alienated from God and others as you look around? It's ok. You are known, loved, and pursued. But your presence is missed in the beautiful kingdom that Jesus is shepherding us all toward. There is so much joy awaiting you in the turning. Jesus, if I have forgotten that you know me and have numbered me as your own, bring me back toward wholeness. Peace, Keith |
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