Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce. - Jeremiah 29:5 Today I'm thinking about the challenge of holding the promises of God's ultimate redemption with the clear imperfection of each day's realities. As God formed a people, they began a journey toward the "promised land." That promise was that they would become rooted in a place with peace and freedom and enough for everyone. They would be able to truly settle down and live as God intended. Of course, we know that even when they entered this promised land, human realities got in the way of this goal fully coming about. Selfishness, violence, greed and power led to a lot of brokenness. Then Jesus came to help people understand that God's ultimate promise was more than arriving at a time and place. It was about learning to experience life in him. Life is not simply a waiting game to reach a certain point before it really starts. Each moment is a chance to live fully with God, even while keeping our eyes on the ultimate hope of God's kingdom coming. Interestingly, this thread has always been there. So let's go back to the story of Israel. About 800 years after they entered this promised land, everything fell apart. The Babylonian's invaded and captured them, destroying the temple and much of the Jerusalem. This happened around 600 BCE and the prophet Jeremiah was there for the whole thing. He'd been warning them that they were losing their way and heading for destruction. Most were taken into exile far away from the promised land. Many of them were forced to walk 500 miles (they did NOT want to walk 500 more) into their captor's region. It was a struggle and a disappointment when the promise of stability and flourishing didn't pan out. Yet there was always hope. Jeremiah comes to them and reminds them that God had not abandoned them. In a hopeful (but let's be honest, disappointing?) statement, he says that God is continuing to unfold hope and redemption... but it'll be about 70 years before it all comes to pass and they get to go home. Are we supposed to be HAPPY about this, Yahweh? Ima be dead! Interestingly, that well known verse about future hopes and plans is Jeremiah 29:11. And it's hopeful for sure, as they looked to ultimate restoration. But just a few verses earlier, Jeremiah really gives them (and us) some instruction worth chewing on. ...the God of Israel, says to all the captives he has exiled to Babylon from Jerusalem: “Build homes, and plan to stay. Plant gardens, and eat the food they produce. Marry and have children. Then find spouses for them so that you may have many grandchildren. Multiply! Do not dwindle away! And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare.” They have a long way to go. Their situation is not perfect. And God says to them, don't wait around for perfection to come! Create little Edens right here in the brokenness. And stop thinking you aren't connected to each other. When you help your neighbors thrive, you will too. We have a temptation to think that we can't do the work of God's kingdom unless everything is perfect. But everything will never be perfect on this side of eternity. We are always going to be in exile in one way or another. Author Eugene Peters writes, These experiences of exile, minor and major, continue through changes in society, changes in government, changes in values, changes in our bodies, our emotions, our families and marriages. We barely get used to one set of circumstances and faces when we are forced to deal with another. Jeremiah does not tell them to just act like everyone else. He challenges them to participate in God's life where ever they find themselves, even in a "normal" that is not what they envisioned. Real life faithfulness is doing the best with what's in front of you, knowing that God's presence is there, even when situations aren't perfect. Don't wait to plant gardens until you've "arrived." You'll never start loving like Jesus did. It's ok when you feel like you're far from home. God is still inviting you deeper into connection, and broader into creating a culture of his goodness. What might it look like to plant a garden in whatever circumstance you're in today? Jesus, thank you for never leaving me, even when the journey is winding. Peace, Keith
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When he [Christ] came, he announced the good news of peace to you who were far away from God and to those who were near. -Ephesians 2:17 I spent a large portion of my day today giving backpacks out at the school that our church inhabits. It's been a priority to build a posture of love and service to the staff and students over the past 9 years. One of the projects we do annually is gather the supplies each kindergartner needs, and give every one of them a fully equipped backpack that they receive during their kindergarten orientation. Every student receives a backpack with all their supplies, regardless of need. This does offer care for struggling families, but also equity because all students receive the same items. The lines aren't drawn between students with brand named glue sticks or the ones who purchased from Save-A-Lot! It's such a joy to distribute these yearly. But inevitably, as families come through the gym past the various information tables, some parents pull their kids away from the free backpack table. "We don't need one of those," they tell their child. I have to quickly interject and say, "No, there's one for her! Each student is intended to receive one, and we have enough for eacheveryone. It's our gift, please, take one!" Most of the time that convinces them, but not always. I was reminded again today at how difficult it can be to enjoy the gift of God's grace at times when we feel like we aren't truly "desperate." It's not surprising that the times when we seek out God's presence the most are when we are struggling. Yet as I stood there behind a table of backpacks, urging families to receive the good things that had already been prepared for them regardless of felt need, I thought that this must be God's perspective. When we say, "It's ok, I'm doing fine today. Let those who really need it have the grace and peace," we are missing out on receiving the all-the-time available peace of God. And God has a complete abundance of it for all of us, so we don't even need to make sure there's some leftover for others! We often talk honestly around our church about those moments where things are ROUGH in life and faith. Jesus is always a soft place to land in those moments. But let's acknowledge the inverse today. If you are in a really good spot right now, don't ignore today's opportunity to draw near to God and receive grace. Don't think that because you're alright, it's not the right time to receive. Don't just walk on by. Jesus died for you when you are at your worst and when you're at your best. The gift of life, the gift of God's presence, the gift of peace-- is always worth receiving, and you will be surprised at the joy and provision it will bring, even if you feel like you're getting along pretty well right now. And it builds in us a humility that flies the face of rugged self-sufficiency. In fact, in the moments that we lean into our connection with Jesus and we're NOT in crisis, we often find that we have fresh joy and energy and love to pass on to others, because God multiplies our capacity for goodness in those moments. But it only happens as we choose to follow each day, keeping our eyes on Jesus. Maybe today you're feeling the crunch of life. Or maybe you're feeling like you're really doing well! Both are ok. Both are opportunities to receive the gift of Jesus- love and presence and mercy and peace and wholeness. When we do, life overflows with gratitude. I invite you today to pause long enough to enjoy the unexpected blessing of a God who never steps loving you. Jesus, I need you when I'm doing well and when I'm not. Break down my self-sufficiency to receive the gift of grace today. Peace, Keith He has told you, human one, what is good and what the Lord requires from you: to do justice, embrace faithful love, and walk humbly with your God. - Micah 6:8 I don't know how to talk about distances. And that's a problem, because I'm a distance runner and a coach, with kids who are currently obsessed with their track and cross country stats. When I go out for a run, I think about it in terms of miles. But when it's time to race, the standard distance for high school runners is 5 kilometers. Every track race distance is in meters, but yet every time I golf it's in yards and feet. Sometimes I'll ask the kids to grab something from the kitchen counter. "It's only a few feet to your left," I'll say. But a moment later we're hanging a painting on the wall and, "that left corner needs to go up about 1 centimeter." And don't even get me started about trying to figure out if I'm supposed to talk about liquid in gallons or liters?! AHHHH! My ways of measuring things are inconsistent at best. I use a whole lot of different metrics. And I'm regularly finding that this is true of life as a whole. A few years ago, it became more and more clear for those of us in church leadership that the dominant metric system was inconsistent. Ministry effectiveness was measured by church attendance, budget size ("butts and bucks") and one-time decisions for Jesus. But the sad reality was that all of these numbers could be trending upward, and yet people were not necessarily looking more like Jesus, experiencing a deeper sense of wholeness with God, or caring for the poor and marginalized in dynamic ways. None of those metrics were inherently bad! But they also weren't the measurements that Jesus seemed to emphasize. Jesus seemed to think that the most important metrics for our lives were related to discipleship and compassion. He tells his followers that the goal is to make more disciples, not simply converts (Mt 28:19). Disciples are people who are spending their lives as students of Jesus, growing in both grace and active love. He also says that what will matter is not religious sounding words, but lives that look like care and concern for those in need (Mt. 25:34). Here's the thing. Those metrics are much less impressive to measure, because they rely on inward posture as the starting point. Of course, this isn't simply about church. We are constantly feeling this pull in our lives, aren't we? What units should we use to measure success? House sizes? Growing our salaries and portfolios? A neat and tidy family that appears very impressive to the world around us? A lot of extra curricular community and religious activities? When we use the metrics of our dominant culture (or dominant religion), we find that we will be constantly chasing after impressive exteriors, but still never feeling like we are enough. And we will rarely take the time to be formed in the deeper places by God and live out of that depth. We will not value how the inward becoming is every bit as important as our outward actions in God's eyes. Jesus' metrics do not correspond with the world's systems. They can be messy, unimpressive, and difficult to measure. What is the state of one's heart? Are we helping people walk toward deep healing? Are we serving on another in humble love? Are we learning to give ourselves away and live more freely and lightly with God? Are justice and compassion flowing from our lives? But wait-- even these metrics can feel crushing. What good news that they are founded on this truth: God's grace goes before you, and you are loved dearly independent of any of those metrics. So when we move toward them, it's not from obligation, but because we are living with Jesus in freedom. If you're like me, you may go back and forth between which metrics you focus on even in the course of one day! How very human of you. But let me remind you today that so many of the metrics you are tempted to measure your life with are not from Jesus. Your calling today is simply this: rest in grace and seek to be faithful in each moment, reflecting the love you have already been given. That's worth measuring. Jesus, move me toward what matters to you today. Peace, Keith She gave this name to the Lord who spoke to her: “You are the God who sees me,” for she said, “I have now seen the One who sees me.” -Genesis 16:13 You probably know that I love a good opportunity to challenge the American ethnocentric lie that our country and its dominant customs are better than everywhere else. Our assumptions of supremacy too often make us miss the ways that God's beauty can be seen through so many cultures, tribes, and priorities. So this week we're hopping continents. Let's think about greetings for a moment. I know, it's weird. But as far as greetings go, a Hi-how-are-ya without waiting for an answer... is just rather uninspiring. Last week, however, I learned of a beautiful phrase that is one of the most common greetings in South Africa among the Zulu people. When someone passes a friend on the street or invites someone into their house, a simple word is offered as a greeting: Sawubona. It's loaded word, but the root image of Sawubona is based on noticing. It translates to "we see you." And while it may be used on the street just like our "what's up?" the understanding that it represents is far richer. Sawubona is a way of looking at someone and communicating, my attention is with you. I am noticing who you are and welcoming your presence with all your uniqueness, your needs, your imperfections, and your value. We share this space together. What a way to say hi! And what a reflection of God's heart. I was reminded of the story of Hagar, an enslaved woman who fled while pregnant after being forced to bear the first child of Abram, and then hated by Sarai for exactly what she was forced to do. She is alone and scared when God meets her. God promises her protection and blessing in her suffering. And then she does something no one else in the Bible does. She names God personally. She calls God El Roi. It means, "the God who Sees." She met God, and what she heard was, "we see you." Sawubona. Jesus fully embodies the God who Sees. Throughout his ministry, he notices the people no one else notices. And he takes the time to really see them. He desires to know and care about what is happening to them, and about what's going on underneath the surface. His interactions with them communicate his attention and their value. People walked away from those encounters knowing they had been truly seen. We are called to follow in the footsteps of Jesus. What if we greeted one another each day by saying "I see you" to those we bumped into? Or more importantly, what if we really did see them? It's difficult to shift our focus from ourselves and fully see our neighbors. But when we slow down and recognize their complicated, imperfect, wonderful uniqueness, we learn grace and community. Maybe we'll even start to believe that God sees us this way too-- with full attention, filled with grace, and desiring to enter into our story. Wow. I'm trying to work at really seeing people. And, when the Spirit leads, I am trying to be willing to share that I see them, and that they are loved and valuable. What a privilege that we are united with the God who sees, and the God who loves! So we, as the people of Jesus, have the power to give that gift to others. A culture marked by sawubona can change how people experience the Body of Christ. Let's be willing to open our eyes. Jesus, thank you for seeing me. Don't let me overlook others today. Peace, Keith *Painting by artist Kowie Theron, entitled Sawubona My grace is sufficient for you...
-Jesus Hey, friends. I completely ran out of time and margin this week. Between the challenging beauty of ministry, family, and unforeseen mishaps, I hit up against my limitations. A moment ago I considered staying up really late, trying to fulfill my obligations, and cranking out a TFG for you all. I highly doubt it would have been Spirit-infused, and I very much would have been frustrated by night's end. So, I'm choosing to receive God's gift of my inadequacy. And let me say, I am at peace with my inadequacy, as Jesus reminds me that his grace fills the gaps. I hope you can have the gift of delighting in your own inadequacy today. Jesus has you covered. You don't have to be everything, thank God. That would be horrible. See you next week. Jesus, my soul finds rest in you. Peace, Keith And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever-- the Spirit of truth. [...] On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. -Jesus, John 14:16, 20 I've been thinking about dancing. This is in part because my daughter made Cake Pops last night (with help from Bethany), and before my boys could have a second one, I made them dance across the room to K-Pop music (because: Cake Pop---K-Pop. Get it?). But also, we're in a theatre stretch right now as my wife performs the Sound of Music, and there is a ballroom dance scene that I've enjoyed watching. You see, Bethany and I have really different dancing styles. Hers is rhythmic and smooth and beautiful. My style defies labels. Simply put: I make other dancers look really good. The thing that I like about dancing is that it brings us into movement and joy with others. Dancing (sometimes) involves shared movement, cooperation, and participation. And as such, it lends itself to some powerful spiritual imagery. The ancient mothers and fathers of the faith understood that God's oneness dwells in community through the image of father, son, and spirit. But they understood that this Trinitarian relationship was a beautiful mystery, not as static and disconnected as modern Christians tend to view it. They saw it as active. Like a dance. So for nearly 1500 years, we've had a word to describe this way that God's self interweaves in community. Perichoresis. In that Greek word you can hear the meaning. "Peri," where we get words like "perimeter," and "choresis," where we get "choreography." Literally, the word describes God as community, dancing in a circle. It's oneness, yet also cooperative, graceful movement. There is beauty to it all. It's sometimes called The Beloved Dance. And as this imagery took root, those same Christian fathers and mothers began to talk of life with God in a similarly profound way. They looked at the scriptures and said that life with God (salvation) looks like people being invited into this dance. We are drawn into the very relationship that the Father, Son and Spirit share. And as a result, we are also drawn into their shared purpose in the world. A dance is an interesting image for participating in life with God, isn't it? Dancing with God feels very different image than completing a list of errands. It hits differently than a task-oriented faith. We dance with God, joyfully drawn into the relationship with such movement and shared identity that we become new beings. We become full of God's deep value, bursting with the shared love of God. As a result, we become ready to express ourselves freely, continuing the dance and continuing to invite more people into the beauty of God's spacious love and kingdom. You are in Christ, and Christ is in you. You have the Holy Spirit within you, yet you also look for where the Spirit is at work around the world. The joy and peace of God's very self is available to you. This is living in the divine dance. CS Lewis inspires me with his words about how central this mystery is for us in his book, Mere Christianity: The whole dance, or drama, or pattern of this three-Personal life is to be played out in each one of us [...] each one of us has got to enter that pattern, take his place in the dance. There is no other way to the happiness for which we were made … Once a man is united to God, how could he not live forever? … But how is he to be united to God? How is it possible for us to be taken into the three-Personal life? … Now the whole offer which Christianity makes is this: that we can, if we let God have His way, come to share in the life of Christ." I'm feeling like it's time to claim some fresh metaphors for discipleship, and this one is actually so old that it's new again. Consider today, how is God drawing you to join in the dance? Jesus, draw me into the shared identity and the shared movement that you have with the Father and the Spirit. I want to live in and live out of that love. Peace, Keith Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. -Colossians 3:1-2 "Are you available to be dilated today?" My optometrist asked. I wear contacts, but my prescription hasn't changed in 20 years. Honestly, I don't really go in for checkups that often. I vaguely remembered getting my eyes dilated in the past, but it was years ago. They administer these eye drops, and a few minutes later the pupils start getting really wide, so that a lot of light gets in and the doctor can examine you more closely. Apparently the eyes are not just windows into the soul. They are also windows into the nerves behind the eyes. Anyway, it's one of those things that they do to make sure everything is healthy back there. What I didn't realize is that when my eyes got dilated, I would lose the ability to pretty much function at all because everything within 10 feet goes blurry for hours. My wife starting texting me in the office and I had absolutely no idea what all the fuzzy letters were trying to say. In fact, this was hours ago and I'm still voice texting this whole piece. The only thing I could do was see farther away (through sweet roll-up sunglasses!). So I'm in the office and I look out the window and there is SO. MUCH. LIGHT. Every person on the street was glowing. Angels everywhere, walking on streets paved with light. It was surreal. But at least I could see clearly if I looked farther out! For the next two hours, I couldn't do any mindless work. I couldn't distract myself. I couldn't check my phone, scroll meaninglessly, or read emails. I had no choice but to stop trying to focus on all the details for a while. I was only able to look the big picture. And, isn't it interesting, the big picture was glowing. I think there's value i having our close-up perspective forced to a halt every now and then. When we take a step back and look around, we may find so much light in the larger story. My generation of Christian leaders has sometimes critiqued the focus of past generations who spent a lot of time talking about heaven, the afterlife, and big heady concepts of God. We felt that it became too easy to overlook the issues and lives and needs of the here and now, right in front of us. I still believe that. Talking about how wonderful eternal life with God is while ignoring situations of suffering and injustice right in front of us is not what Jesus wants from us. And we have important jobs to do and responsibilities and children and meetings, all that. Being too ethereal all the time can make us lose touch with the details of life and how God is at work in them. No one doubts the important role that the details of our lives and day-to-day moments play in our discipleship. But today I’m considering the proportionality of it all. If our lives are so knee-deep in details, only dwelling on small particular things that constantly need done, and small particular situations that we are in, we miss out on something. If we're not forced to do it, we may just forget to ever look up and consider the wonder of God’s world and our place in it. It's healthy to allow the pendulum to swing in both directions, holding together the grand beauty of God’s redemption coming in fullness one day, in the midst of all the things that need done each week. God has been at work in the world for many generations. You are significant, and your life matters. But you are not at the center of this movement. Neither am I. What good news! So many of our stresses are connected to the fact that we rarely look up, letting God remind us of the whole story. Love wins. Jesus is with us. The earth is the Lord's. All will be well. It was nice to only be able to dwell on the big picture for a while today. A few hours later, I was indeed getting back into the details, taking care of my to do list, setting up some meetings for encouragement (and writing once again!). But in my time of short-sighted blindness, I was grateful for the reminder to look at things far away, and re-balance my perspective as I follow Jesus. Jesus, help me look up and rest in the grandness of your world and your story, giving me hope and strength for the details of my day. Peace, Keith I will remember the deeds of the Lord; yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. I will consider all your works and meditate on all your mighty deeds.” -Psalm 77:11-12 The great spiritual father and author Eugene Peterson used to tell a story about his pet dog when they lived in a Montana forest. The dog would love to find old deer bones in the woods and bring them back to the porch. After the original show off phase (dogs need constant affirmation to protect their egos), once the dog was sure everyone was impressed, it would finally saunter off and begin the real delight... chewing on that bone for hours, getting every bit of flavor possible. Peterson says that often, the dog would bury the bone only to dig it up the next day and resume the gnawing. And while it did it would let out this low, delightful growl. Isaiah 31:4 gives an image of a lion "growling over its prey," so deeply consumed with the meal before it that it wouldn't even pay attention to shouting shepherds in the background. "Growling" here isn't an aggressive word. It's more like a pleasant purr of a completely contented animal that is all-consumed with enjoying its prize. That's what Peterson was seeing as he watched his dog "growling" over his bone, tail wagging. And interestingly, that Hebrew word used for the growling lion in Isaiah is the exact same word used over and over in the Bible. But most often, it's used to speak of "meditating" on God. The Psalmist uses it throughout the Psalms... I will sit and gnaw on your Word. At night I will savor your righteousness. I will meditate on your works, O Lord When the Psalmist speaks of meditating on God, he's talking about an experience of immersing himself in thoughtful enjoyment. He's sitting with the stories of God in no rush. He's thinking about the beauty of God's earth without distraction. He's savoring the presence of God with him. He's just sitting there, thinking about it. He's slowly, calmly.... chewing. Growling. That's the image. So much of life is moving us away from slow, thoughtful chewing. We don't have time to ruminate on things. Quick! Figure it out! Form an opinion and share it, NOW! Ok, on to the next thing! I feel that pull too, of moving away from thoughtfulness. Our lives cruise along at an unnecessary pace. Our devices, jobs, commitments, and entertainment can strip us of the space to really sit and growl over anything. Savoring and meditating is becoming a lost art. But something happens when we take the time to chew on the goodness of Jesus. We find that there's more flavor there than we realized. And there is far more nutrition in a slow meal than fast food. Becoming like Jesus and growing in wisdom means sitting and ruminating on the way of love. You can't rush through discipleship quickly. Friends, we have to be intentional if we want to stay grounded these days. The beauty and intimacy that comes from slow moments of meditating on Jesus rarely come naturally. It will be a choice to slow down. It will be a choice to turn things off. It will be a choice to pay attention. But as we do, we begin to find that God's goodness is accessible in fresh ways. The amazing thing about meditating on God's work is that it won't only impact us in the deep internal places. It will lead us to better neighboring too. A practice of thinking slowly on God's care will lead to patience. Ruminating on the heart of Jesus will lead to grace for others. Sitting in contemplation will lead to increased compassion. We will start to notice God not only in the written words of scripture, but written on the faces we see when we look up from the pages. At my church, we just finished working through Genesis. I covered 22 chapters of the Bible in the last two Sunday sermons! It was fun, but my goodness, it was a lot of fast moving. I'm ready to just sit and chew a bit more. On a word, a phrase, a verse, a thought. I need a season of slow, growling meditation. Maybe you do too. What would happen if you gave yourself some time today to enjoy chewing? Just a few unhurried, beautiful moments of thinking, with the Spirit of God quietly dwelling beside you? Jesus, slow me down enough to be formed in new ways today. Peace, Keith He left the next day for open country. But the crowds went looking and, when they found him, clung to him so he couldn’t go on. He told them, “Don’t you realize that there are yet other villages where I have to tell the Message of God’s kingdom, that this is the work God sent me to do?” -Luke 4:42-43 (MSG) A few days ago I was doing a long trail run up in a nature preserve along the Pennsylvania/Delaware state line. It's a popular area for biking too. It's not uncommon for me to see mountain bikers along my routes, and because I am out there for a few hours, sometimes I see a biker more than once. This time, I encountered a man biking in the morning on a long Pennsylvania climb a few miles into my run. About an hour passed and I hopped onto a different trail system, this time in Delaware. And here comes the same guy, this time biking towards me on the gravel from the opposite direction. As he neared me, I don't think he expected to see someone on foot a second time during his long ride. I gave my customary "hey again" nod as we passed. But in the 3 seconds we shared, he found enough time to offer a quick statement, almost like an out-of-breath greeting of sorts: "Jesus, you get around." And then he was gone. I admit that my first response was one of pride, enjoying anytime that I impress a mountain biker. But about 30 seconds later, I started ruminating on the deep theological truth that my new biker friend had just stumbled upon. "Jesus, you get around." I mean, he does, right? Jesus gets around all over the place. And understanding that can keep us full of humility and expectation. In the original Jesus movement 2000 years ago, I think there were a lot of people that probably said, Jesus, you get around! Jesus was constantly moving to new places. Not in a frenetic way, but intentionally. He traveled miles and miles throughout his days, traveling to villages and synagogues, to homes and leper colonies. He spoke with a blind beggar one day, and interacted with a political leader like Pilate on another. One moment he's talking with a religiously elite Pharisee, and the next he's having a dignified (and scandalous!) conversation with a Samaritan woman. He went from the backcountry towns of Galilee all the way to the epicenter of Jerusalem. The distances that he regularly traveled were impressive in their own right. But it was the variety of people that he interacted with, and the variety of ways in which he did it, that left such a remarkable legacy. In just a few years, he impacted so many people in so many contexts. He healed. He freed. He fed. He taught. He forgave. Jesus was always popping up in both expected and unexpected places (but nearly always in unexpected ways). Jesus. The man gets around. It was true in the time of Jesus, and I believe it is still true today. When Jesus breathed his spirit on his disciples and promised them that he would be with them always, it was a reminder that he was going to continue showing up all over the place as they did the work of extending God's love, mercy and compassion with their world. In fact, Jesus multiplied his presence in that moment. But that can be hard to see sometimes, particularly because we have difficulty imagining Jesus at work in people, places, and ways that we aren't familiar with. We tend to act like Jesus is only at work in our church, our country, our sanitized and approved areas. But Jesus has never worked like that. He gets around. And when we start to believe that, then we start to look for him in surprising places. The other day, I saw Jesus in a new friend- and I have no idea if they even identify as a Christian or not. I saw Jesus in a sunrise, with the reminder that the earth is the Lord's, and everything in it. I saw Jesus in a story shared during our church gathering. I even heard Jesus in frustrating rant about systems of injustice from a friend suffering a loss. Jesus shows up again and again. And in each of those moments, we have the opportunity to let Jesus move beyond our fences. And to be reminded that God's grace is spacious. Jesus, you get around. We don't need to have Jesus figured out. We don't need to understand exactly how the holy spirit works to trust that the range of Jesus is bigger and broader than we realize. And maybe that sort of awareness will lead us toward fresh hope and love as a result. Jesus, help me notice the many places you show up. Peace, Keith There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. -Galatians 3:28 Our family just returned from a trip we've been planning for years. We spent nearly two weeks in Utah and Colorado, exploring beautiful places, laughing, and experiencing some of our majestic national parks. In the coming weeks, you'll undoubtedly hear snippets of that journey as I reflect and process what Jesus is teaching me through all things. And that's what we want to do, right? To see all of life as a opportunity to get to know Jesus better and become more like him? Midway through our trip we spent a day in Mesa Verde National Park. If you're not familiar, Mesa Verde is a time capsule, preserving the story of the Ancestral Pueblo people who built and lived in remarkable cliff dwellings about 700 years ago. Their abandoned villages are still incredibly intact. We chose the most adventurous tour, climbing up 30 foot ladders and crawling through a few narrow tunnels to see these amazing living quarters. Our Park Ranger helped us understand what we know about these dwellings. At one point he said that the Ancestral Pueblo people did not only dwell in cliffs. Some lived on the top mesa and hunted, and others lived in the valleys and farmed. Another tourist raised his hand to ask a question. "So, were these cliff dwellings the premium locations that people fought over, or were these the poorer areas?" Ranger Brady paused a moment and smiled a little. What a modern American question. "There was no class system like we think of today. People shared what they had and lived in community. There was no upper or lower class. Some just chose to live here, others elsewhere. That's what we know." As modern westerners, it's difficult to imagine a society in which people are not differentiated between the ones with all the resources and the ones without. It's how we see the world, right? How we establish our value? It's even how we choose our friends and decide if we are successful or not. We are groomed to constantly rank ourselves so that we know who is higher up and who is lower down. Both the tourist's question and the Ancestral Pueblo culture are reminding me of the radical beauty of God's kingdom vision. Like the ancient world of Mesa Verde, God's kingdom transcends the assumptions of class and classification. Jesus revolted against classism by touching the untouchable lepers, caring for the sick, offering dignity to beggars, treating women as equals, bringing attention to the poor, and sharing the table with those who had been judged as the worst of sinners. Theologian Greg Boyd writes, "The Kingdom of God has a center—Jesus Christ—and he demonstrated that there are no walls composed of class distinctions that should divide us. This is a beautiful alternative." A center room without walls is a beautiful image. In Mesa Verde, the ancestral Pueblo people lived in shared community, learning to respect one another and the land that they inhabited. In God's kingdom, we learn to see one another as God's beloved, and this earth as God's sacred creation. We choose to share community with those who may be very different. They may have more or less than us, but we are learning the beauty of diversity and the joy of sharing with each other when need arises. We acknowledge maturity and authority based on wisdom and compassion rather than accomplishment and accumulation. We understand that in Christ, we are one. And we believe that the expansive ground at the cross and the tomb entrance is wide enough for all of us to sit at. Our goal is not upward mobility but inward maturity, which may very well move us in the opposite direction at times. It's a beautiful, countercultural vision. There was one more thing. These cliffs didn't even have a much space for bedrooms and storage. Yet every single community dwelling was full of kivas, small round rooms reserved for sacred ceremonies, prayer, feasts, and celebrations. Square footage was limited, but a place to connect with the divine was always only a few steps away. Maybe I'll write more on kivas one day. But today, let us be a people that learn to freely share community without rank, knowing that the presence of God is near to us all. Jesus, protect me from the need to rank myself and others, and draw me near to your presence today. Peace, Keith |
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