In case you haven’t read why I’m doing a series of blogs with the title “Confession”, feel free to check out my last post.Essentially, I’m hoping to work through some areas of my outlook and lifestyle that I feel convicted about.  It seems to me that the first step in trying to be a better person, or for me, a follower of Jesus, is to acknowledge my weakness.  So that’s what this is all about.

Tonight’s confess is this: Sometimes I think I’m better than the people around me.  This is particularity disheartening for me when I examine the context of my judgment and superiority over others:

-In seminary classes I’ve often caught myself comparing myself to my classmates; sizing up their ministry skills, judging their work experience, and most sadly even questioning their callings.  

-Amongst my friends in social settings I’ve noticed myself wondering whether my friends are on the right track in life.  I often find myself questioning their decisions and thinking about how I would do what they do better.

-Around town at stores and on the street I’ve become aware that I quickly categorize and label people based on their dress, demeanor, language, culture, and race.

– In general, inside my heart, there is a posture I maintain towards the world and for myself that says, “I’m better than him, her, them”.

Reflecting on this reality grosses me out.  

Basically, I’m judgmental.  Not all the time, but often enough that I’ve noticed it.

When I put myself in the place of judge, I elevate myself above other people.  This is completely opposite of what a follower of Jesus is supposed to do.  Rather, our call is to be a servant of all.  For Christians, being great is not about being elevated above other people, but becoming low, self-less instead of self-ish, seeking to elevate others without getting any attention for ourselves.  In Mark 10:35-14, there is a great discussion about this very subject… check it out.

I hope I can no longer look at people and see how I am better than them.  I hope I can look at people and see what God sees.  He sees their potential.  He sees them as his son or daughter that he loves.  He sees us as worthy enough to give up everything for.

It’s hard to believe, but that’s how He sees me, and that’s how He calls me to see everyone else.

(Muir quotes below)

The other night I stumbled upon PBS’ documentary series on Netflix about our National Parks.  If you arnen’t aware of how amazing our National Park system is, I strongly encourage you to check it out.

As the documentary cataloged the beginning of the parks, they focused on a man I’ve grown to admire in many ways, John Muir.  Muir was a forever curious mystic wanderer.  Some historians suggest that Muir was a genius, and that if he had committed his energy to business or politics he would have been immensely successful.

However, for John, the trappings of society and civilization could never satisfy the deep longing of his soul.  This deep longing drove John to wander and live in nature for months at a time.  He would travel thousands of miles on foot, walking back and forth from Oakland to Yosemite repeatedly.  This trip takes about 3 hours by car today, covers a few hundred miles and some seriously drastic elevation changes.  During his journeys John would admire, listen to, breath in, touch, smell, contemplate, and write about the wilderness all around him.  His writings and efforts were a significant reason Yosemite became the first American National Park.  This system pioneered the unprecedented concept of public space set aside undeveloped, with the intention that it would remain wild for posterity’s sake.   Some people conclude that if it wasn’t for John Muir, Yosemite, Yellowstone, and every other National Parks would have been developed, dammed up, and  forever lost to the historical momentum of economies, consumption, and society.

John wasn’t just an environmentalist who spoke for and defended a the protection of nature as an abstract notion, he was himself personally and spiritually invested.  Deep within John’s essence was a love for and connection with the wild.

As I read some of John’s writing about his experience in creation I became jealous.  Imagining his intimate friendship with the trees, mountains, sky, and rivers awoke a longing within me.  John saw God’s work, love and mercy in creation.  His church was the mountain, his worship was curiosity and reverence, and his theology was listening to God’s voice in the symphony of the forrest.

In today’s world this type of connection is most often totally absent.  We have no personal relationship to the earth, and in so doing, I’m afraid we miss out on connecting to God in a way we were designed to.  One of the ways I think that we can rekindle this connection with our environment is by emulating people like John who seemed to have the ability to listen to the wild.  This ability to listen is something we’ve long forgotten, and something John Muir seemed to have.

I’ve selected some of my favorite Muir quotes to share as a window into the experience and intimate relationship he seemed to have with nature.  As you read them imagine yourself seeing what he saw, touching what he touched, smelling what he smelled, hearing what he heard, and feeling deep inside the ecstatic joy of seeing God’s artistry in creation.

Bottom line: I need to get out of the city more.

“No synonym for God is so perfect as Beauty. Whether as seen carving the lines of the mountains with glaciers, or gathering matter into stars, or planning the movements of water, or gardening – still all is Beauty!”

“A few minutes ago every tree was excited, bowing to the roaring storm, waving, swirling, tossing their branches in glorious enthusiasm like worship. But though to the outer ear these trees are now silent, their songs never cease. Every hidden cell is throbbing with music and life, every fiber thrilling like harp strings, while incense is ever flowing from the balsam bells and leaves. No wonder the hills and groves were God’s first temples, and the more they are cut down and hewn into cathedrals and churches, the farther off and dimmer seems the Lord himself.”

“All the wild world is beautiful, and it matters but little where we go, to highlands or lowlands, woods or plains, on the sea or land or down among the crystals of waves or high in a balloon in the sky; through all the climates, hot or cold, storms and calms, everywhere and always we are in God’s eternal beauty and love. So universally true is this, the spot where we chance to be always seems the best.”

In God’s wildness lies the hope of the world – the great fresh unblighted, unredeemed wilderness. The galling harness of civilization drops off, and wounds heal ere we are aware.

“I used to envy the father of our race, dwelling as he did in contact with the new-made fields and plants of Eden; but I do so no more, because I have discovered that I also live in “creation’s dawn.” The morning stars still sing together, and the world, not yet half made, becomes more beautiful every day.”

“As long as I live, I’ll hear waterfalls and birds and winds sing. I’ll interpret the rocks, learn the language of flood, storm, and the avalanche. I’ll acquaint myself with the glaciers and wild gardens, and get as near the heart of the world as I can”.”

“Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul.”

“The world is big and I want to have a good look at it before it gets dark.”

“I only went out for a walk and finally concluded to stay out till sundown, for going out, I found, was really going in.”

“The grand show is eternal. It is always sunrise somewhere; the dew is never dried all at once; a shower is forever falling; vapor is ever rising. Eternal sunrise, eternal dawn and gloaming, on sea and continents and islands, each in its turn, as the round earth rolls. ”

Oh, these vast, calm, measureless mountain days, inciting at once to work and rest! Days in whose light everything seems equally divine, opening a thousand windows to show us God. Nevermore, however weary, should one faint by the way who gains the blessings of one mountain day; whatever his fate, long life, short life, stormy or calm, he is rich forever.

“The mountains are calling and I must go.”

 

Isn’t that video absolutely heartbreaking?

As Americans we are so attached to comfort and safety that we often ignore injustice because it would be easier to turn the other way than to step out of our comfort zone and risk our safety for the sake of others.  

—

This morning I woke up an realized we had no coffee.  This was an urgent issue that I needed to resolve so I went to the store and bought a pound of Peet’s Ethiopian blend.  Mmmmm so good.

On my way out of the parking lot I noticed something that caught my attention on the other side of the road.  I saw a man and woman walking down the street.  Normally a man and woman walking down the street isn’t that big of a deal, but this was different.  He was holding the back of her head, his hands clenching her hair, and he was violently shaking her head back and forth. As I watched for a moment I saw numerous cars drive by, and people look at them without seeming to care about the well being of the woman.  I began to feel angry inside, I couldn’t believe people were ignoring this.  It seemed clear that this man was going to hurt the woman.  Without thinking I drove up to the couple and rolled down my window.

“Hey that’s not cool man, is she alright?”  I naively asked, not knowing what I was getting myself into…

“What the F*** you talking bout n****?!!” The man yelled back, beginning a long series of threats as he glared at me with a thugged out sneer.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me!”  The woman said to me in an unconvincing tone as I tried to calm the man down by suggesting that I was just making sure she was alright.

Before I could affectively address the situation, the man began to approach my car and continued to hurl expletives my direction.

I quickly realized that I was of no further help to the situation and that I may have actually been making things worse…so I hit the gas and drove away.

As I drove home, I recapped the series of events and thought about what had just happened.   I was filled with anger, frustration, and confusion because I didn’t know what to do.  I was also reminded of how messed up our world is.

If had had pushed the man any further, it would have gotten violent, and I’m sure he would have easily taken me in a physical altercation.   He may have even been armed.  This choice of action would probably not have changed the predicament for the woman.  She would still be with the man, the only difference is that he would now be angry.

If I hadn’t done something I would have been filled with regret that I witnessed the abuse of a woman and didn’t do anything.

As I began to realize where I was wrong and where I was right in my actions I began to see that people typically handle these situations in two ways.

1) We hide.   They avoid the altercation altogether as it is much easier to pretend that suffering, exploitation, and injustice don’t exist.  I think most of us fall under this category.  Ignorance is bliss.  The problem with this is that we’re not being honest.  We are blatantly lying to ourselves because we absolutely have a responsibility to one another.  When we avoid the hardship of others, and the possibility of being able to help because it would be inconvenient for us, I believe we are morally and ethically in the wrong.  It reminds me of this story.

2) We jump the gun.  This is what I did this morning.  Without calculating or thinking I simply attempted to intervene.  While my motives may have been good, I don’t think I accomplished much – besides submitting to my ego.  There is something in us that gets angry when we see injustice, and I believe this is good and healthy.  The problem arrises when we end up using that anger in reckless ways that end up being more about our pride than about helping the people in need.  Before doing something, and I am convinced we must do something, we need to count the cost.  It’s kind of like this teaching.

What I learned this morning is that it was right for me to feel angry.  It was also right for me to do something.  My mistake was that I jumped the gun.  I may not have helped the situation, and I may have placed myself in a dangerous place.

If I could have a mulligan with how I reacted this morning I would have done things differently.  What I needed to do, and what we need to do when we see injustice is to get angry, calculate the most effective action, and without hesitation act.  

In hindsight I should have used my cell phone to call the local police who not only have the authority to respond, but can also follow up in ways that I cannot with these individuals.

I believe this falls in line with the great story Jesus taught, that I continue to wrestle with called the Good Samaritan:

 

In just a few hours Alie and I, along with four other team members, will be boarding a plane once more more Asia.  This year will mark my 8th trip to Myanmar and my 6th time taking a team with me.  Our connection to a local church/orphanage/school/community in Myanmar has been one of the most humbling experiences of my life as I am continuously blown away by their faith, and the willingness of our home community to contribute to our work there.  Over the years we’ve had some incredible and miraculous experiences as we continue in our friendship with our friends there and so much has been accomplished that it’s hard to even begin to catalog.

As I was reflecting and preparing for this years trip I decided to add up some totals to help us understand just how much has been accomplished because of friends and family who have supported our ministry.  Just FYI these numbers are estimates based on my math and my phone calculator.

Over the years:

8: Number of times we’ve visited the same church community.  In Myanmar Christians are a minority and are often persecuted, in fact most churches are illegal, so visitors are rare and very cherished.  Because we go back every year, we’ve developed a very special bond with this community, we know their names and they know ours.  Incredible.

21: Number of  made by people who have traveled with us to Myanmar over the 8 years. 33 is the total number of trips including repeat travelers.

165:  Total number of flights over the 8 years. (33×5; 5 is an average of how many flights each traveler made per year)

5: Total number of guitars we’ve donated over the years.

1: Number of tractors purchased/donated.  This ended up being the orphanages primary means of transportation!

2: Number of computers donated.

2: Number of cameras donated.

1: Iphone donated.

120: Number of sermons/messages given! Crazy!

22: Number of church services led.  This number does not include the home group meetings.

60+: Number of home group meetings.

95: Number of times we’ve song songs/ led worship.

100+: Number of times we’ve prayed with individuals.

1: Number of weddings we’ve been in attendance as honored guests (it was as silly as it sounds).

1488.88: Number of total miles traveled inside of Myanmar.

4: Number of times we’ve paid for the orphans to go to the beach.   Typically, we rent a bus and take all the orphans and church community.  The kids had never seen the beach before this, and this is one of the most memorable experiences of the whole thing.

5: Number of beer tasting fundraising events we’ve held.  Yes, beer tasting.

150+: Number of beanies made and sold for fundraising.

4: Number of various other events held for fundraising.  This includes a 5k run, and a Chili’s fundraising night.

$86,000:  The total number of funds that have been raised in support of our ministry.

$14,000:  The amount we’ve been able to donate to the local orphanage/church.  This goes to various supplies and needs ranging from food to medical supplies.

1: Number of churches that have started.

 

Wow.  This list doesn’t even come close to actually telling the story of this connection.  When I think about how much has happened I can’t help but be in awe of God to the point of tears.

Here are some dreams of ours:

_: Number of times we continue to go back.
_: Number of times we can sponsor our friends to visit us.
_: Number of the orphans we might be able to help with college.
_: Number of people forever changed by the God who is big enough to hold the world in his hands and yet intimately be present both here and there.

As we make our final preparations and head to the airport I just want to say thank you.  First, to God, whom none of this is possible without.  And second, to everyone who has come with us, prayed for us, donated to us, and been a part of this in any way.  From the deepest part of my heart, thank you.

One last thing: Would you pray for us as we travel and dream about the future?

 

There is no single event in human history that means more to every person ever born or yet born than the birth we remember tonight.  Sometimes we forget the controversial significance and provocative claim that we make when we proclaim that God became man in an animals feeding trough in a small town 2000 years ago.

This is the night everything changed.  

No longer are we isolated in the cosmos enslaved to our mortality, depravity, and sorrow.  No longer will corruption, oppression, and injustice prevail over us.   No longer will brokenness, sinfulness, and cheating be the norm.   No longer will sadness, sickness, and suffering burden us.  No longer will darkness reign and death rule.

For unto us a child is born… 

All the momentum of history could not prevent what happened that night when everything changed.

Dustin Kensrue’s song portrays well the heaviness of that night:

 

This is war like you ain’t seen.
This winter’s long, it’s cold and mean.
With hangdog hearts we stood condemned,
But the tide turns now at Bethlehem.

This is war and born tonight,
The Word as flesh, the Lord of Light,
The Son of God, the low-born king;
Who demons fear, of whom angels sing.

This is war on sin and death;
The dark will take it’s final breath.
It shakes the earth, confounds all plans;
The mystery of God as man.

Sometimes it seems like there are two types of people:

On one hand there are the those of us who are always fighting back the need to feel significant.  We look at heroic individuals and feel insecure or guilty that we aren’t more like them.   We look at our mundane lives and wonder about what could have been.  We feel lost and trapped in the normalcy of our jobs, friendships, and hobbies. We often ask this question: “Why can’t we do something more meaningful?”

On the other hand there are those of us who overcompensate our apparent fear of insignificance by pretending we are of importance.  We walk with a strut, look at ourselves too long in the mirror, and think that we are God’s gift to other people.  We often ask this question: “When will everyone see how unique I am?”

If I’m most honest, I am both of those people at times.

But what if there is a third hand?  What if we could live on the other, other hand?  The truth is that we can, and just like having a third hand seems counterintuitive and outside of normal biology, there is in fact a higher logic and  new way that won’t make sense to us at first.  Jesus called this a new wineskin, or being born again.   This other, other hand breaks the mold and challenges us to live differently.

Living life on the other, other hand means that our identity does not come from this world, but from God who calls us his child.  He made us, gave us life, forgave us, bled for us, and resurrects us.  In him we are significant, not because of what we have to offer, but what He already offered.  This is the most freeing and liberating truth.  We don’t have to have all the answers do the darkness, we just need to trust the light.

When we feel like we are nobody we need to remember that we are alive and that this alone is a miracle.  We must  awaken to the infinite beauty always around us, and remember that we too are beautiful; and not just beautiful, but loved by the divine Himself.  We need perspective.  We need humility.

When we feel like we are somebody we need to remember that we did not make ourselves, nor do we in any way hold things together.  We need to be reminded that the world existed before we came into being, and will continue to exist after we die.  We need perspective.  We need humility.

The fact of the matter is that we are already significant, but not by our own will, but because of the great Will.  The battles we have been fighting all along were over before we even stepped foot on the battle field itself.

The truth is that “the most courageous thing you might ever do is to accept yourself and be that man, and no other”. (Rohr)

 

Here is Richard Rohr’s devotional from On the Threshold of Transformation that sparked this blog:

The commonly held myth of the self made-man is a trap.  The idea that we can manufacture our own identity or worthiness is a project surely to fail.  Thinking that we can and must create our own significance turns every other man into a rival and leaves us fighting over the scraps.

The soul lives on meaning the way the body lives on food.  Without a larger meaning, our lives are “disasters”, which literally means “disconnected from the stars”!  It is absolutely essential that we find this larger meaning.  Jesus has already declared you inherently important: “Rejoice that your names are written in heaven,”  he says.  you cannot declare yourself important any attempt to do so is delusional, even though many try.  The problem we try so hard to solve is already completely solved, and most of us don’t even know it.  We are searching for what we already have.

Whoa! As of this week one quarter of seminary is completed.  It’s been a unique experience thus far – one I am still in disbelief I get the privilege to have.  So few people get the opportunity to study in this capacity and in this environment.  What a blessing.   Here are a few reflections/lessons from the past few months:

My classmates remind me that I’m not that smart
It’s kind of intimidating being around so many brilliant and motivated people. Within the first few hours of interaction with other students I quickly realized that my peers are incredible people.  Many will go on to write books, create ministries, and plant churches.  It’s fun to think about where the person sitting next to me in Patristic Theology will be in 5, 10, 40 years, and what kind of legacy they will leave.  So many people passionate about the kingdom – what a privilege!

Theology is fun…
I know that sounds crazy to write, but it’s true.  Reading, discussing, and writing about how people have experienced God through the ages brings a level of perspective and humility to our understanding of the divine.  On one hand I’ve realized that the more think we know about God, the less we actually do, while on the other hand, I’ve been blown away by the common thread within Christianity of God making himself known to us.  Even though Christians are separated by culture, geography, and time we’ve still come to the same realization that this Jesus guy is pretty important.  It’s amazing that over thousands of years we still love him for the same reasons that the early church did.

Academics are hard
I’ve never been the best student.  I mean, I can get the job done and earn a good grade, but I’ve always had trouble with my study habits when it comes to school.  Because of this, Seminary has already been extremely challenging.  Learning ancient Greek and reading two or three-thousand year old books is not easy.  I’ve got a stack of a few hundred flash cards on my desk that remind me of my daily burden to remember a seemingly endless list of names, words, and concepts.  A few times over the quarter I’ve felt discouraged, and in over my head.  It’s at those times that this passage and my wife have been encouragements.

Too Liberal?
Because I don’t come from a super churchy  background this came as a surprise to me.  Within the realm of seminaries there are some that say Fuller is too conservative, and some that say it’s too liberal.  More often than not it gets painted as the liberal seminary for a few reasons.  First, Fuller seeks to critically examine the scriptures in context.  This means that tradition with regards to who wrote certain books may prove to be historically inaccurate, and if that’s really important to you, it could seem threatening.  Second, Fuller seeks to have conversations with differing perspectives both within the church and outside of it.  For some this is seen as condoning beliefs or views that may be outside of familiarity.  As crazy as it sounds, some churches or organizations won’t hire Fuller grads because they aren’t comfortable with a person who critically examined their faith and scripture in light of outside opinions.  They’d rather have some one who can just recite denominational jargon.  To me, there is no alternative to the practice of listening to different perspectives and understanding where our beliefs actually came from.  While some people who begin to investigate the origins of their faith end up loosing it because they realize that it’s not always simple, black and white, or as warm and fuzzy as they heard in Sunday school, this process for me has only strengthened my conviction that Christianity is true, even amidst it’s flaws.

It could become a bubble…
Just like any academic institution, community, club, or sub-culture- grad school could potentially become overly introverted in it’s focus.  For a seminary, an ivory-tower mentality would be nothing short of a tragedy as the purpose of what is taught and learned should not be to just have a conversation with ourselves, but to engage the whole world in God’s salvation, reconciliation, love, and grace.  In my first quarter at Seminary I’ve already noticed the pattern in others and the temptation in myself to just hang out with other students out of convenience and familiarity and overlook the needs of those outside of our bubble.

I don’t deserve it
When I think about what an incredible opportunity seminary is I’m both humbled and terrified.  So few in history have had the means and privilege  of studying theology formally.  In a way if feels like I’ve been given a huge investment and I’ve got to steward it as wisely as I can.  It reminds me of this story.  In general, we Americans are unbelievably blessed.  All too often I think we miss the point of using our blessing to impact others.  For me, the seminary experience is a constant reminder that I have been given so much and I hope I can use it for good.

Beginning to dream about what’s next
I can’t wait to see where this season will lead my wife and I, and what God has for us next.  It feels like I’m one of those wind up toys that gets wound up and then eventually released.  So far, seminary feels like a season of being wound up.  One of the most exciting dreams Alie and I have been thinking/praying/talking about is the possibility of beginning a new faith community in the Bay Area.  The possibility of planting a church that reaches people with the gospel in the Bay is probably the thing I day dream about the most (besides Alie), and if it’s what God has for us, than we would be unbelievable privileged to be a part of it.