Call for the Question

Dream with me a little. When you stand back and contemplate your life do you ever wonder if you have, or will make, a difference. An elementary and obvious query for folks who ponder about more than just the mundane “sleep . . . wake up . . . go to work . . . eat . . . back home . . . watch football . . . go to bed . . . (repeat)” kind of existence.

Most of our daily activity is arranged around patterns of repetition. We do and are what we have always done and been and don’t usually think about enlarging our life borders beyond these predictable boundaries and patterns. Only when some event or new relationship calls us awake and apart are we faced with a shaking of our self-centered homeostasis.

We long for significance. Significance is about identity and impact. So we hope that somehow when we pass on from this life we won’t be forgotten; that we will have made a difference; that we will have contributed to something much larger than we are. That we have made a difference in our social circles, a difference in our families, our faith communities, our legacies.

Why do we long to recast our lives in this way? Why are we aroused, or at least pause to muse, whether this life we relish (or tolerate) will have any import? Is there some inner insatiability that yearns for fulfillment? Why can’t the average human simply follow the mind-numbing script of day to day rhythms of “normal” life?

Lots of questions there. Personally, I am not satisfied with settling for the repetition of a pointless existence that generates no influence or impact on my fellow travelers. Are you? Did you ever wonder why you are here or if there is a purpose and significance to these few years you’ve been allotted on planet Earth.

I am increasingly convinced that not only is there an important reason for my presence here at this time but I am sure I have been called and outfitted for this time. No intent here to exhibit any ego issues, I just believe there is not only purpose, but call, gifts and power to accomplish my purpose.

How do I know? As I reminisce about the journey my family and I have been on, I see the hand of God in every event, every decision, every move, every relationship and every trial. Details are not necessary here but clearly we have been “set up” by God for the next season in our purpose-full life.

Each of us who have chosen to be a Jesus follower (and I might add all who have not yet intentionally chosen) have dormant within us the gifts, call and power to live out that purpose. To release these “enablements,” our part is to resolve to open our minds, hearts and spirits to allow that empty space of unfulfilled destiny to be inhabited by the dream God intends us to live out.

Ok, Dr. Gary; what does that look like and how can that happen, you rightfully question. Well, it does look different for each of us but maybe there are some common indicators and divine events that call us to this most excellent life.

Let me pose some questions. (I know; too many questions and not enough answers! I believe the best way of self-discovery is self dis-cover-y. Other words, you know the events in your own life and can dis- or un- cover how God has been at work.) So, let’s begin.

Is there a history of God-consciousness and/or God-faithfulness in your past and present? Has your spirit been quickened by God-activity in such a way as to cause a craving for more God-connection to be present and witness what God is doing, to join Him there? Is there an awareness of destiny for that which you feel is beyond anything you could have orchestrated or have lived out?

Do you believe you have gifts you yearn to share with others in Kingdom efforts that have not yet been fully employed? Have you wanted to be a tool of influence in culture but you have not found a place of expression? Is there a fire within you, a pent up energy that bubbles and bulges and heart-burns to be released?

Are there strange, crazy events and opportunities that present themselves that defy logic and “rational” behavior? When you step through open doors do you look in the rear view and wonder how those steps could possibly fit within the paradigm of known God activity?

Conversely, is there a lack of confidence in the prompting and timing of unction (Holy Spirit empowering) that seems to bring timidity and a consequent quenching of that fire? Or, is there some guilt or sin that screams out its presence when you might be encouraged to step out and be bold, bringing shameful silence instead of confident Kingdom life or warfare? Do you wonder if you even know how to hear God? Did you miss His voice of direction?

If I am sure of anything, it is this. Contrary to much of the theology I was taught in my impressionable years, God has not given up on this human experiment. In fact, He holds all the cards of power and will not allow it to fail. I said; He will not fail! There will not be only 12 or 13 people in the Kingdom to come. If so, why would He promise to pour out His spirit on all flesh just to annihilate almost everybody in some lake of fire? (Sorry, another question.)

In keeping with that thought, we should ask a further question. How might something like that Spirit pouring/drenching be accomplished? Well, God is going to have to get a bunch of people turned around and start living into their destiny. How will that happen? By awakening those who are called by His name and empowering them with confident, spirit infused lives of excellence coupled with opportunities for influencing culture and government toward repentance.

Ok, that was a mouthful, but I believe an astonishing change is in the cards that God holds and has started to reveal all over this land. When those who are called by His name pull their collective heads out of the sands of traditional theological assumptions and walk in purity, truth and confidence, an amazing, life-giving, life-validating move of God will break out in the land.

Cultural and religious strongholds of idolatry will be smashed. Wickedness in governing structures that are covenantally connected with spiritual powers of darkness will be broken. Bondages of mind and spirit, wealth and heritage will be released as families become free to serve God and others.

A pipe dream? Don’t think so. This kind of spiritual earthquake could unleash the Third Great Awakening, setting the table to usher in His Kingdom.

The last question I have for us is this. Do we want to live into our God-created significance? Are you; am I ready to take the next step into our intended destinies? That step is our choice. Let us join Him.

Your Kingdom Come!

Feathers and Birdseed

I was sitting on an airplane looking over the shoulder of a guy across the aisle. He was perusing one of those SkyMall magazines that offer items for sale you didn’t even know you needed. A fully programmable, food dispensing pet feeder. A toaster that imprints the image of your favorite dog breed right on your morning slice. Or, get this, a skin colored shirt top with faux tattoos printed on it!

Having been a businessman, I certainly appreciate ingenuity and the ability to make a buck. But really, my morning toast needs to affirm my love for my favorite dachshund?

Consumerism, the drive to buy stuff and in so doing provide a certain level of happiness, is killing us. Advertising dollars are solicited and spent at a rate greater than ever. Competition from purveyors of every kind of good or service threatens our own success so we must up the ante to increase market share. Marketing itself has become a finely tuned science and focused to any niche consumer you demand.

The church has succumbed to the same consumeristic mentality reducing many, not all thankfully, to complex business operations to the exclusion, unfortunately, of the original call to make disciples.

Listen to this snippet from the book, AND: The Gathered and Scattered Church, by authors Halter and Smay:

“A consumer is not a disciple and a disciple is not a consumer! Consumerism reflects what Jesus came to call people out of. . . if we look at the amount of time, money, and focus that is spent on providing services for people and the results don’t reflect a fading consumerism in the lives of our people, it’s time to take a walk in the woods and talk to the Head of the church.”

Let’s look at any number of followers of Jesus who we venerate as saints: Paul, any of the apostles, St Francis, Mother Teresa, dozens of un-named, unknown followers of Jesus who gave all and basically had no worldly goods, yet they had their needs provided for. These didn’t seek to accumulate stuff nor did they have stuff but they gave away stuff. They “lost their life;” and “died to self” so they might gain their lives in the Missional directive that Jesus gave when he left us.

Now look at us. Many of us, and the “successful” leaders we have today, have all kinds of resources both organizationally and personally. Many enjoy luxurious homes, recreational times and toys that rival the most affluent in society. Is that wrong? Maybe not. Is that our mission? Likely not. Does that portray our call to die to self in order to live out The Main Thing?

Ninety-nine percent of us are consumers. We want the stuff. We want to be successful in building churches, building our own kingdoms, finding the latest color co-ordinated feathers for our nests and accumulating a bigger flock of birds and more birdseed than the next flock.

Trouble is, Jesus reminded us that every bird has her nest but he didn’t even have a place to lay his head; no home to go to. If we claim to desire to live like Jesus how far are we willing to go? Do we want the power he had, the Spirit he had, the gifts he had but not the life he had? I don’t mean we should all be broke. God has called, blessed and gifted some to provide the means for others to go places and do things in the mission of making disciples, of course, but is that what our resources are primarily dedicated for? Are we mostly givers or consumers? No doubt, when Jesus went away to pray it was at an all-inclusive resort complete with 24 hour restaurant and massage services.

No, none of that is wrong. That is not the point. The question I am addressing is what is right, or what serves my call to the mission of “making disciples?” If I must die to self, as scripture insists, what does that truly look like? Must I never enjoy any comforts? Our affluent society has so enculturated us into consumerism that it is impossible for us to envision any other lifestyle. Are we then to be total, indigent itinerants? No possessions of any kind?

Truly we have been blessed in this country. Several key figures in scripture were wealthy, yes. There were those in the NT who were patrons for the apostles and Jesus who used their resources to fund the apostles and missionary travels. No, wealth is not wrong. The key is how we steward the posession and use of that wealth.

If we can understand that it is a gift from God that still belongs entirely to Him we are starting to grasp the purpose of that wealth. It is to enable us to make disciples, not be or make consumers. The two are incompatible.

Now maybe we can understand the statement quoted earlier in this post: “A consumer is not a disciple and a disciple is not a consumer.”

Goodness, Me?

OK, so how many times a day does someone ask you, “How are you”? And you reply, “Good! You?” I have developed a habit of responding, to some people’s annoyance I’m sure, “I’m well.” Just a quirk of mine and I’ll tell you why. To me, “good” is a value assessment, as in good or evil or somewhere in between. Honestly, I don’t want to go there, so I say that I am well, as in “I’m OK.”

I am not at all being critical of how others respond or trying to change the way they communicate. This is truly my own issue. So maybe you can grasp a little bit how I was jolted awake when I read this conversation in the story Luke recorded.

One day one of the local officials asked him, “Good Teacher, what must I do to deserve eternal life?” Jesus said, “Why are you calling me good? No one is good-only God. (Luke 18:18, 19 MSG)

What?

Wait a minute! Wasn’t Jesus good? Yes, he was God and therefore good but why is this seemingly offhand remark thrown in here?

As always, Jesus never said anything without meaning. He already knew what he was about to point out to this man; that his life had been structured around the doctrine of needing to be good to attain eternal life. He had managed to compartmentalize and distinguish between being good, keeping the rules, and where his love was invested. But it was not placed where it mattered. He had a love of rule keeping, not relationship.

Jesus then asked him about the rules, which the man proudly boasted that he had kept all of his life. Oddly enough, he also seemed to intuit that there was something missing.

Jesus then told him to downsize–to zero.

“This was the last thing the official expected to hear. He was very rich and became terribly sad. He was holding on tight to a lot of things and not about to let them go.” (Luke 18:23 MSG)

The rich man was in love with the stuff and the importance it gave him, the power he could wield because of it and the comfort it afforded him.

Seeing his reaction, Jesus said, “Do you have any idea how difficult it is for people who have it all to enter God’s kingdom? (Luke 18:24 MSG)

The point of all this seems to be again, love. What is my love invested in, things or people? “Good” -ness has nothing to do with getting into the kingdom. Having nothing puts us in a very vulnerable place; that is dependence upon God for everything because there really is little choice. Having a bunch of stuff and power and control gives us options apart from God that are highly tempting and potentially extremely destructive.

I have friends and so do you who are, shall we say, well-funded. God has blessed them with resources so that they may bless those who are need. Several of them are faithful in that responsibility to God and others.

What if all of life wasn’t about being good by keeping the rules? At the end of a life based on this philosophy is a self-centered, self-congratulatory, self-satisfied justification for an existence founded on . . . (wait for it) . . . self.

You see, I may think that the rules are my highest priority and obeying them explicitly my duty and calling. However, since loving God first with heart, soul and mind and then our neighbor like we love ourselves puts our rule-minding a little lower on our totem pole (an appropriate metaphor since a totem is a family or tribal history story pole).

Back to the statement that there is none good but God. Did Jesus mean to infer that he was not “good”? Well, could it be that in the context the young ruler called Jesus good because he truly was basing his value judgment on the fact that Jesus was doing good works; healing, casting out demons, saving people, etc., when in fact it was not because the works were flowing from Jesus’ intrinsic “good-ness” but from God’s goodness.

To the young ruler it may have seemed like these works were performed because of Jesus’ acquired goodness from his ability to keep rules. In fact, since goodness comes only from God, not the ruler’s own abilities, that left him holding the bag. There is no goodness in us.

By giving all his “goods” to others he would be forced away from self-sufficiency into utter dependence on God and His good-ness.

So I guess this is the subtle identity need that presents when I say “I am well.” I indeed may be well. Good . . . well, hopefully someday.

Storied Past – 9

Becky called the names Marlowe had given her. The second girl, Rachel, answered.

“Oh, I don’t really know where she could be. I haven’t talked to her since, well since she left church and kinda went into sin. She could be anyplace. Did you check that saloon, or whatever?” Rachel said.

“No, I haven’t, but thank you for the lead.” No answer on the third girl’s phone either.

“I’m not sure what to do now, Jeremy.”

“How about asking someone who does know?” he suggested.

“I’m sorry. You are so right! I’ve been a bit consumed by the crisis here and I forgot what I really should be doing first.” She bowed her head slightly. “Father, we really need some help here. Would you please show us, or lead us to Ramona? Whatever she decides to do next could impact her life forever and she needs some friends with her.”

“Thank you, Lord,” Jeremy finished.

“Duh!” Becky suddenly exclaimed. “Why don’t I just call her?” Her voice rose a bit in pitch at the end in a rhetorical question. Jeremy’s eyes rolled back in his head.

“I can’t believe we didn’t think of that already!” She scrolled down to Ramona’s number and tapped it.

 

Ramona nervously paced back and forth across the large waiting area at the bus station. The room was empty except for a sleeping pan-handler or two, and an older, sweet looking lady carrying a small bag.

A few minutes earlier she had purchased a ticket to some California town, Rancho something-or-other. She didn’t really care where she went. She just thought that any place in California would be safe and far enough away that she could start over. With the few hundred dollars or so she had saved, at least she could get a room somewhere, pay for the procedure and hopefully find a job before she ran out of money. If only she could stop this insistent, naggy voice deep down inside that was disagreeing with this whole line of reasoning!

She felt her phone vibrate and then ring. She looked at the number that popped up; Becky Moore!

“No, I just can’t talk to her right now,” she thought as she let it go to voicemail. “She will just try to talk me out of this.”

The monotone loudspeaker voice sounded bored as it announced the arrival of her ride south. She walked to the door indicated by the voice and waited. The sweet, old lady approached and smiled at her.

“Hello. You must be going on my bus, too.” Her smile was disarming and friendly to the point that Ramona couldn’t ignore her.

“Uh, yes, I guess so.” She kind of reminded her of her grandmother. She died when Ramona was only six years old but left such a wonderful memory.

“My name is Edith. Would you care to share a seat with me? I could use some company.”

Ramona really didn’t want conversation with anyone but maybe she would be kind and gentle, like her grandmother. She decided to take a risk anyway. Maybe “Edith” would go to sleep.

“OK, sure.”

 

Becky hung up her phone.

“No answer, Jeremy. Well, I can try again later. I don’t have any other ideas, do you?”

“Do you think she might leave town?” he posited.

“Well, I don’t know. I haven’t heard of any doctors who do that sort of surgery here in Maple Valley. Maybe she would leave. Let’s drop by the bus station before we head home. It’s only a few blocks away.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jeremy said.

They left the coffee shop and walked toward the Pub-Trans station. As they approached the block where the station was, they had to pause while a big interstate bus turned in front of them.

“Oh, I hope she’s not on that one!” Jeremy moaned. They tried looking in the windows but they were all darkened by the tint and couldn’t make out any faces.

 

At that moment, Ramona looked out past Edith. Her heart nearly stopped as she recognized Becky waiting to cross the street. As the blood drained from her face, which must have had a look of horror as well, Edith asked, “Are you alright dear? You look worried about something.”

“I’m OK; I just . . . may have forgotten to turn the iron off. Well, no worries, it goes off after thirty minutes. I’m fine.”

“Oh, that’s a relief. Well, where are you going; to visit some relatives?” Edith asked.

“No. I don’t know anyone where I’m going.” She suddenly realized what she had said and knew that statement made her vulnerable to more lines of questioning from this Edith lady. But Edith didn’t pursue the unintentional blunder.

“Oh, that’s lovely!” Edith said. “What a great adventure you must be looking forward to!”

The statement sounded like her grandmother, too. Come to think of it; she had a slight resemblance to Grandma Beckett. She was short, plumpish and smelled of lavender.

“Yes. It will be an adventure, I’m sure.” Ramona returned. The way she said it, she was sure she didn’t sound very convincing.

“I’m off on an adventure, too!” Edith shared. “It is completely new territory for me. I’m going to a retirement village down near the Oregon border. All of my things are there already and I am excited to meet my new friends.”

“Meet . . . your . . . new . . . friends?” Ramona asked haltingly. “How can they be friends and you haven’t met them yet? Doesn’t make sense.”

“Well, you ARE right. I don’t know them yet but I am sure I will like them. I have peace about my future and I know everything that happens to me will be special. I am so blessed!”

This sounded a little too disconnected from experience for her taste. She felt special all right; like, specially taken for an idiot and especially in trouble now! But blessed? All she felt was cursed; cursed to a life controlled by everyone but her.

“How can you feel so confident about your future? I’m not sure about tomorrow but I intend to take control of my future and do what I want to do.”

“Oh no, my dear. I didn’t mean I am in control. Usually it’s quite the opposite. I just mean that I am alright with what is coming tomorrow because I trust the process and who is actually in control. Every day is challenging but I am grateful for it. I meet new people; like you for instance, and I only want to try to be kind and love people because I know I am loved and valued.”

“Hmmm. I thought I was loved but it seemed like it was only when I obeyed rules; not just loved for who I am. And, I was not valued after I was taken advantage of, for sure!” She ended with an edge of venom in her voice.

This did not go unnoticed by her seat companion. “We have all been taken advantage of at some time or other,” Edith shared. “I married young. My husband was a charmer but he had a drinking problem. He used to come home and physically abuse me and the children. Then . . . well, he would fall asleep after he had his way with me. I had quite a painful time for several years.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry,” Ramona was sincerely moved. “What happened then?”

“Well, he met with an accident on his way home one night. I was so bitter. Not that he was gone but that I let him abuse me and the children for so long.”

“You don’t seem bitter now,” Ramona said. “How did you get over it?”

“Well dear, I don’t know whether you can ever “get over” an experience like that. The scars are so deep. But I met someone who helped me learn to forgive him and myself. That was the best thing that could have happened. The memories are painful but they are in the past. I try to live each day with a joyful spirit while being at peace with the future.”

“Wow! I wish I could be at peace with the future. I mean, I’m going to make my own future and it will be what I want but I don’t know about the peaceful part yet. There will be some trouble and hard times before I get there, no doubt.”

Edith looked directly at her. “Yes . . . there will be some trouble and hard times. But you will come through all of that just fine. Just remember how you felt when you were a little girl. Remember how your faith and trust was so strong in Jesus? Get back to that place and you will be peaceful.”

Ramona teared up. She glanced away out the opposite window to keep Edith from seeing her cry. Yes! She remembered a time when life seemed simpler. Her faith was strong and she used to talk to God a lot! How she missed those times, but they seemed so long ago and far from reality now. How many bridges had she crossed and how many were burned that might be keeping her from getting back to that place?

She discreetly wiped her eyes and turned back to Edith. “I just don’t know if I can . . .”

She froze in mid-sentence. No one was sitting next to her.

– To Be Continued –

Storied Past – 8

Stunned for a few moments, Becky finally gathered her presence of mind and sprang up. Tearing down the stairs to the street level she searched for Ramona. The streetlights had already been on for a while but they didn’t reveal which way the girl had gone.

“Oh, Ramona,” she wondered, “where did you go?” Heading back upstairs she tried to think what to do next. Maybe Ramona would go back home tonight. She might try to check online for a doctor there or maybe she could get a referral from her own doctor. What to do?

Her ringtone abruptly sounded. It was Jeremy, the staff member from City Reach.

“Hi Becky, how’s it going?”

“Not good. Remember the girl I brought with me to the soup kitchen?”

“Yeah, she seemed real shy. Nice though. What about her?”

Becky sighed, “Well, she is pregnant and I’m afraid she might end it; soon!”

“Are you serious right now? Isn’t she with you?

“Well, she was at my apartment until I got home from work. Then she had a meltdown and flew out the door threatening to find a doctor. I don’t know what I should do.”

Jeremy thought for a second. “Want me to meet you someplace? We should try to find her.”

Becky agreed. “I think she might go to her house. Meet me there; 1015 East Granite Street. I’ll be there in fifteen.”

 

Ramona hurriedly walked to the corner where she turned left. She didn’t know where she was going and didn’t really care. She was only cognizant of this anger and deep hurt that drove her to get away; just go someplace, anyplace but here in this Podunk, small-minded town.

That thought lodged in her consciousness with a speck of hope. Maybe she really should go someplace else: a new life in a new city where no one knew her. They wouldn’t know her past; wouldn’t judge her now and she could make her own future without church busybodies telling her how to live. She could find a doctor in a larger city, take care of her problem and start over.

First she had to go home and pack some things. Then she remembered: her purse! She was in such a hurry to leave Becky’s she left it in the front hallway!

Continuing around the block she headed back to the apartment.

 

Becky and Jeremy arrived about the same time at Ramona’s house. “Did you knock yet?” he asked.

“No, I was waiting until you arrived. I may need your moral support.” Becky said.

“No lights on,” Jeremy noted. They peered into the living room window. “And I don’t see any shadows moving around either.” He said.

“Great!” Becky sighed and moved back to the front door. She rang the doorbell. No answer. She rang again and then again.

“Well, what do we do now?” Becky looked at Jeremy.

“Where else do you think she might go?” he asked.

“I don’t know. I’ve only known her for about a week, Jeremy. I saw her Dad at the mercantile store and then on the kitchen floor, unconscious. He is the only . . . oh, I know. Let’s call Pastor Marlowe. He would know lots of her friends and they could ask around; see if they can find her.”

“Great idea, Beck! I’ve wanted to meet him anyway.” Reaching for his phone he said, “I’ll search for his number.”

He found a Pastor Marlowe listed and handed the phone to Becky. She waited while it rang and then went to voicemail.

“Pastor Marlowe, this is Becky Moore, a friend of Ramona Beckett. I am wondering if you could help me find her. I think she may be a bit distraught and could be in danger. You can reach me at my number; 503.555.6162. Thank you.”

“Well, all we can do now is wait for him to call back. Other than that, I don’t have a clue where she could be,” Becky concluded.

It was now getting close to 9:30 pm. They caught a bus and headed toward downtown. Five or six minutes later they got off on Main. The streets were wet from a heavy mist. Diesel fumes from the departing bus mixed with the moist air in a familiar scent that describes most small to medium sized Northwest towns. The yellow/orange streetlights reflected off the dampness of every hard surface and magnified, leaving a glow that was both welcoming and mysterious.

Holy Grounds Coffee Company, Becky’s part time employer and the place she took Ramona after discovering her under the overpass last week, was in the next block.

“Jeremy, let’s go get some tea while we’re waiting for Pastor Marlowe to call back. I will tell you what I know about Ramona.”

“Right! Good call.” Jeremy agreed.

They ordered and sat down with mugs of steaming organic tea. Becky then related how she met Ramona just down the street a few blocks and everything up to when he called her a couple of hours before, including Ramona’s dream and today’s rant.

“Well, that is pretty sad,” Jeremy observed. “I have heard other people share similar stuff about that church. It will be interesting to meet the Pastor and see if he is really that . . . that harsh, I guess I might describe it.”

Becky’s phone interrupted their conversation. Pastor Marlowe’s voice asked, “Becky Moore?”

“Yes, Pastor? Thanks for calling back. I’m worried about Ramona.” She then gave a much shortened version of the last few hours.

“Well, what would you like me to do?” Marlowe asked.

“I was hoping you might check with some of her friends there in the church to see if they might know where she could be.” Becky suggested.

“You know, it’s hard to say. Ramona strayed from God and she’s gone into other friendships that her church friends probably wouldn’t know about. She could be anywhere. And I don’t want to get in the way of God’s disciplinary activities. What would that make me?”

Becky had a hard time with this last comment. She didn’t quite know how to respond.

“Well, I would be glad to call a couple of people if you could give me their names, Pastor.”

“If you want to call, that’s fine. I think she has made her bed though, and you can see what she did in it!”

“Yes, sir. Who can I call?”

Marlowe gave her three of Ramona’s friends from his church. Jeremy entered them into his phone as she repeated the names. Thanking the pastor, she hung up.

“You will never believe what he just said.” Becky was fuming. “I just can’t understand how a Pastor would write off someone and not even want to help.”

“There are those who believe that when you leave a church you leave God and His best ways,” Jeremy observed, “even if you don’t leave because of sinful activity. It’s like you can only serve God best in that church and by leaving it you have chosen to serve God at some lesser level, which is not acceptable once you have known a better way.”

“And what about Ramona? She didn’t leave because of that. She left because she felt like she couldn’t live up to the Pastor’s expectations, which she equated with God’s expectations. Oh! Excuse me. I need to call these friends before it gets too late.”

– To Be Continued –