One unusual thing your church must do

I recently wrote about a lesson I learned a year ago through my church, Everyday Church. This week, I’d like to follow with another.

Easter BBQ

Because nothing says "I love you" like charred meat.Easter this year consisted of a passionate worship service followed by a chilly beach baptism in the fog. I ran home afterwards to ignite some charcoal and start my mad dash of preparation for a deluge of friends barreling towards me for an Easter BBQ. About 20 of us enjoyed linguica, chicken grilled to perfection (by this sexy man), garlic-cheesy bread, various sides, and most of all, fellowship. As the afternoon wound down, about five of us took a nap on various couches and recliners in my living room.

Out of the haze of horizontal digestion, someone outside said, “Hey, here come some Mormons!” Two young men approached sporting suits and “Elder So-and-so” nametags. The love we shared that bright afternoon overflowed to them, and while I continued my lounging, my friends loaded them up with our abundant leftovers and treated them like honored guests.

The two stayed for about an hour, which I’m pretty sure the LDS police wouldn’t have approved of. And they didn’t spend the time talking about their gospel, they just sort of hung out. Their youth struck me: they looked like kids. Lonely, overworked kids desperate for love and family, stumbling upon it by divine chance.

We joked about their plush assignment in our area and asked if they enjoyed the beach. They replied that they weren’t allowed to go on the beach. I couldn’t imagine a more complete contrast than between these the two young men and my free-flowing, jovial, hugging, laughing Everyday family. We laid hands on them, prayed for them, and said goodbye.

Learning to love

Many of the most important parts of the Christian walk are simple. “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you shall be saved.” “There is now, therefore, no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”

At the same time, acting them out in our daily lives is hard! How many walk out or daily lives without a shred of condemnation?

The command “Love one another” is one of these simple, impossible commands. We all believe it’s important, but we regularly fail to walk it out. We generally don’t need another sermon on I Cor. 13 to teach us to love better; we need examples of what love looks like. At Everyday, my brothers and sisters have given me such examples, even treating a couple passing Mormons like good friends.

Three thoughts about love

Love disarms. We could have argued about theology, but they would have raised their missionary masks, their humanity lost to us. Instead, through love, we saw an incredibly rare sight: Two Mormon missionaries without masks. We glimpsed their deeper hearts, the hearts God longs to touch. When we lead off with truth, people retreat into a fortress. When we lead off with love, they put down the drawbridge and welcome truth in.

Love transforms. I’ve watched broken, hurting people walk into a small group for the first time and collapse in tears when loved. I’ve experienced change in my life simply because the people around me have shown love. Sometimes, we try to pound people into freedom from addiction: just stop drinking! However, when we love, people become whole then seek their own freedom. Mysteriously, when you accept people in their sin, they’re more likely to find freedom from that sin.

Love is fun. When we learn to do relationships well with people, we know more peace in our human interactions. When you host a BBQ and love runs high, we have fun! At times, love is hard: You have to forgive and do good to your enemies. But a whole community that loves effectively is a joy.

What your church must do

So, one thing your church must do is this: teach you to love better. Ironically, we more often focus on the preaching, music, and age demographics. But all history’s sermons will only help a little in this key part of Christian maturity; this growth must be walked out in community.

And a vital part of this (perhaps the subject for a future post) is learning to receive love better. After all, you can’t give what you don’t have.

And the ultimate result? What does God want to accomplish through our love? Nothing short of the salvation of the entire world. “By this, all men will know you are my disciples: if you love one another.” (John 13:35)

 

Photo by “Click“

By |2014-04-29T10:32:20-07:00April 30th, 2014|Devotional|3 Comments

Why it is love to speak frankly about problems

Lev. 19:17 “You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him.”

Lev. 19:32 “You shall stand up before the gray head and honor the face of an old man, and you shall fear your God: I am the LORD.”

I think I’m finally at the end of my observations and rabbit trails of Leviticus 19. In the words of the iconic old lady in the back of the Southern Baptist church, “Mercy, Lord!”

Some laws that we read of in the Torah are basically the same in New Testament times. Lev. 19:17 and 32 are a couple of these, I believe. This isn’t because we’re bound by the Torah, it’s because these are examples of the law which we are bound by: love God and love your neighbor.

Many translations use the word “rebuke” rather than “reason frankly” with your brother in verse 17. Here’s how life works. An early-rising, timid brother of mine wants to love others. And I call him at 9:30 at night, right after he’s drifted into the bliss of sleep. He forgives me and ignores this.

Months pass, and every once and a while, I call him at 9:30, wake him up, and offend him. He gives subtle hints about it being too late, but I completely miss them. Still, he feels good about not talking to me about the issue, because didn’t Jesus allow Himself to be killed for us? I mean, it’s not like the Savior ever argued with anyone (little sarcasm there on that last part. Just a little). Anyways, my friend feels like Jesus wants him to ignore the problem, because that’s what love looks like.

And yet, somehow, my brother has this deep bitterness in his heart. He repents and tries to forgive me, but bitterness remains. From the outside, all I see is that he is slowly distancing himself from me, not returning my calls, and not wanting to hang out. The relationship cools, and I’m not sure why. All this time, he thinks he’s acting like Jesus because he doesn’t tell me that I’m a jerk for calling him so late.

 

I ask: is that love?

 

If he confronts me after the second or third time I call him at a bad time and tells me plainly when it’s OK to call him, our relationship can continue. If he doesn’t do that, it will not. To avoid those hard, awkward conversations, he is communicating that our friendship is not worth the difficulty of them. He does not value me enough for confrontation. Is that what love looks like?

But this is haaaard. Some of us like the meek and mild blond-haired Jesus who never argues with anyone and holds a lamb in one hand with a big smile on his face as the ethnically diverse children of the world gather round. We like Him because that Jesus doesn’t require much of us. He doesn’t require us to confront relationship-damaging sin in the people we love so that we can truly go deep with one another.

Aside from hippie Jesus, we have this weird concept that if we just allow people to beat us up, we’ll have a healthy relationship. In reality, this leads to deep bitterness, gossip, and passive-aggression. If you don’t confront the person, you’ll take that anger and tell someone else. If don’t establish boundaries with people, you can’t trust them, because they keep hurting you. You can’t become close. And your friends also become frustrated, because they want to be close to you, but they don’t know how, because you won’t tell them!

That’s why Lev. 19 puts the alternative of confronting your brother as hating him in your heart and incurring sin because of him. Often, you choose one or the other.

The flip side of course is that these rebukes have to be well-timed. Confrontation usually shouldn’t be after the first offense. Most of the time, that should be forgiven silently, because maybe your friend was just having a bad day.

Rebukes also must be in love. And when someone has hurt you deeply, that’s not easy. It’s easier to just bail on the relationship. It’s also easier to get really mad and confront wrongly. It’s hard to confront calmly with love and patience and without telling half your friends about the problem. And yet, we have no choice. If a loving church is our priority, which it must be, because it’s God’s priority, we cannot let hidden conflict simmer beneath the surface. That will tear a community to shreds. “Better open rebuke than hidden love.” (Prov. 27:5)

Also, “Whoever rebukes a person will in the end gain favor rather than one who has a flattering tongue.” (Prov. 28:23).

And finally, standing in honor of gray heads. It may not be standing up in our culture, but it’s still a priority on God’s heart, because it’s an expression of love. Sadly to say, I failed in this a few days ago. I had just gotten my drink at Starbucks and was unpacking my laptop. I saw a white-haired man wearing a “World War II Vet” hat. His weathered, loose skin covered an face. The lady at the counter knew him by name, and he only stayed in the store for a few minutes. I had the sudden impulse, of God, to say hello and thank him for serving in WW2. But I didn’t. And then he left. There’s an example of showing (not showing, tragically) respect to the elderly in our generation.

By |2014-04-28T11:26:34-07:00August 17th, 2013|Devotional|Comments Off on Why it is love to speak frankly about problems

Father’s Touch

“In a life filled with such intense longings, sometimes it’s good to remember what those longings are actually for.”

Out of a total darkness came an unbearable light, and suddenly I saw the Father’s face. Mercy and joy filled it, a carefree and boundless joy. Pleasure seeped into me through it, and then I heard His voice for the first time. It was so familiar, but I had never heard it in my ears, though I suddenly realized that I had no ears. I was not present in the body.

“Your sojourning days are over. Come now, come and rest.”

At these words, my heart raced (so to speak). Had I really just died? Were all things now ended though truly just beginning?

I realized suddenly just how weary and bowed with worries I had always been. How uptight, always worried what others would think of me or if somehow I was sinning. Like an old injury that you become so accustomed to that you often forget it hurts, so had those things been in my life. And yet, they were removed, each and every worry, each and every bit of shame, every last ounce of pain. I’d never realized how much of my life those things had composed until they were gone. “Lord, is it time, is it really this time? Is this just another dream or pleasant vision?”

Wordlessly but in response to my question, He reached out His hand (again, describing it as a hand is the best I can do): enormous, all-encompassing, and tender. From that hand, He stretched out a single finger and lay it on my cheek, where a tear had begun to form.

And oh, that touch, the pleasure and all-encompassing richness of it. A lover’s dearest caress would seem vulgar in comparison. Ten thousand tomes could not begin to describe it. All the world’s riches could not pay for it. For one experience of it would all the peoples war. The love it communicated was too much to fathom. While before I had been free from cares but still remembered them, that touch washed them all away. Deep in my mind, the knowledge of those events still existed, but the memories of them were gone. It seemed as though that flood of pleasure extended even into my past so that I felt nothing but gratitude for everything I had ever experienced, and even all my sins served only as reminders of the grace flowing through me.

My question was answered. No dream could imagine such an experience as that. As that finger drew back, I quivered: scarcely able to stand, scarcely able to think.

Just as I had realized how great my shames and worries had been by their absence, after feeling the finger of God on my cheek, I understood the loneliness that had encompassed my being since my early childhood. It had come in tidal waves or ceaseless droplets, but every day of my life, loneliness had followed me like an unwanted shadow. Even in those rare moments when I felt utterly embraced and loved, it was often after a day spent by myself, miserable on the outside.

I saw, too, in a picture spreading out behind me, how on the earth (now nearly forgotten), the embraces and love of the body of Christ, my brothers and sisters, had served as illumination of the love of God. When I felt their love, their touches, rather than turning my eyes away, most often it turned my eyes towards the supreme love of God. I saw Him through them and my loneliness was driven away for a season and my eyes turned to heaven, but on earth, that beast always returned. Now however, with the touch of that finger, that old lion had finally been driven into the ocean and drowned forever.

I recalled for the last time a particularly bitter part of that loneliness, an unmet desire constantly with me since my adolescence. Despite ceaseless longing, I never knew romantic love. Yet I ever longed for it, ever longed to experience the touch of a lover. But I realized that those desires were all shadows. The strength of the desire for eros came because it wasn’t for eros, not ultimately, at least. The love of a lover was but another foreshadow, a foretaste that touch on my cheek. Even the deep, physical longings to make love with a woman, the pinnacle of earthly pleasure, were but longings for a shadow, a dark and flat projection of something exploding in colors before me.

And so looking back on all my unmet desires for the love of a woman, all the mornings and nights I spent thinking of it, it was as though into that past all those desires were turned to that moment, a far deeper union, a far greater pleasure. The bride of Christ and His wedding supper (which was even still to come!) took on a new meaning as my desires were overcome with fulfillment, a fulfillment far greater and far deeper than the things I desired.

And He said, “I’m so pleased, son. You’ve endured; you’ve conquered.” But it was so funny to hear that, because there had been so many failures, and I had been so undeserving. But we both knew, without the word being exchanged, that the conquering was the conquering of Another lived out in my life and that the endurance was in a superhuman strength not my own.

And in that moment, He grabbed me and flung His arms around me in an embrace. I could not have resisted that embrace if I had wanted to. There was just too much Strength pulling me. And for a moment, I wanted to resist, because all control and composure was lost. And then I was swept away in ecstasy and the desire to resist flooded away. For I was ruined, burst asunder with pleasure, and unmade in delight.

By |2014-04-28T11:30:29-07:00August 6th, 2010|Devotional|Comments Off on Father’s Touch
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