Mark 1:15: Where to Look for the Kingdom of God

"Repentance is not an emotion. It is not feeling sorry for your sins. It is a decision. It is deciding that you have been wrong in supposing that you could manage your own life and be your own god; it is deciding that you were wrong in thinking that you had, or could get, the strength, education and training to make it on your own..." - Eugene Peterson, A Long Obedience in the Same Direction, ch. 2.

In a recent meeting with friends of mine, someone commented that he was struck by the fact that repentance was not "feeling sorry." Another friend commented, "My wife always tells me, 'Don't say sorry. Do sorry.'" Some habits are so ingrained and lead to "sorry" so often, that they become discouraging.

I think that I am too comfortable with the way things are-content to maintain an uneasy truce with my selfishness. There is a subconscious cost-benefit analysis going on and repentance seems too expensive. Perhaps I rationalize my response-downgrading the rating of my selfish, caustic actions by telling myself that I must attend to more pressing matters .

“The time has come,” he said. “The kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!” - Mark 1:15

Jesus tells me that kingdom of God is close-so very close-but it lies on the other side of repentance. It is not a one-and-done event, it is a day-by-day decision that "the kingdom of God is close when I turn to God and away from myself." It says every justification or accommodation of my selfish nature is damaging to my self and those I care about most.

Where do I start? For myself, I find that what irritates me is often a big clue as to where my self is active. Recently this has been a sense of entitlement that makes me upset at other drivers, other shoppers or other people in restaurants-how slow they are, how inconsiderate they are, how inefficient they are. My discipline during this post-Easter season has been taking slow lanes and slow aisles and then, when my habitual irritation rises up, to talk with God about it. There have been a lot of conversations lately. This is repentance for me right now.

How about you?

"Repentance is the most practical of all words and the most practical of all acts. It is a feet-on-the-ground sort of word." - Eugene Peterson, ibid.

Psalm 145:15-16: All The Things Which Had To Go Right

The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time. You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing. - Psalm 145:15-16

I was marveling at how many things had to go right in order for my morning to work out. When I say "my morning" I usually am referring to the time period from 5:30 am, when I wake up, until about 9:00 am, when I head into work. Since I usually get the breakfast going, I'm first awake in the house, turning on the lights, heater, and coffee maker, then opening the blinds and setting out our morning medications. Then I start breakfast.

Breakfast was nothing special: a smoothie. But it contained an a startling number of pieces. There were pineapple chunks from the Philippines in a can made in Mexico. Yogurt, milk and honey produced in northern California. Mangoes from Mexico. Bananas from the Dominican Republic. Each of these were grown by people, packed by people, shipped by people, distributed by people, trucked by people, stocked by people and, eventually, sold by people to me.

These are all thrown into a blender with a similar story. In all, thousands of people touched these foods and components and cartons and containers of cartons before they reached me. Just so I could push a button, whir the ingredients around for 30 seconds and pour a refreshing morning meal.

Once my youngest has descended and imbibed this invigorating elixir, it's off to the bus stop where she gets on a bus. A bus. Driven by a lady who waves at my wife when she sees us out walking. Maintained by a few hardworking guys at the school bus yard. Built and customized by a team from hundreds of components provide by other companies, each with their own work force.

That's just breakfast and the bus. Think of how many things had to go right just for me to have a normal morning. There is a grace in that-the sustaining, providential (or common) grace of God which allows us to live and work. These verses from Psalm 145 actually simplify the incredibly complex processes through which God works to even give us the simplest of good things, such as our food.

Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. - Matthew 6:8

Consider what this simple verse means when coupled with our Lord's prayer, "Give us this day our daily bread." Not only did he know our need before we prayed, but had to have kicked off his answer days, months or years before we asked so that, at the right time, he could give it to us.

So spend a moment today and thank God for all of the things which had to go right.

Ephesians 4:11-13: Measuring Up

So Christ himself gave the apostles, the prophets, the evangelists, the pastors and teachers, to equip his people for works of service, so that the body of Christ may be built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. - Ephesians 4:11-13

When I lived in the Philippines, going to the market was a daily task for the apartment that I shared with the church's pastor. Each vendor would have their fruits and vegetables and cuts of meat arranged in the open air or under a sheet metal roof for you to push and prod and sniff so that you could test their freshness. You would specify a weight or quantity and the price was negotiated. Then your goods would be measured: weighed, counted or fit into a 10# tin can. I remember rice, specifically, which we could measure in gantas. We were only two in my apartment, so we never bought caban (50 kilos). If the vendor was your friend (your suki), they might let the rice mound a little bit in the measuring can. Times like these helped me to appreciate it when the Bible remarked that "Differing weights and differing measures— the Lord detests them both." (Proverbs 20:10)

More recently a different sort of measure struck me. when Paul commented that the "body of Christ" (the church) is supposed to be built up by the Spirit-gifted individuals until we attain the whole measure of the fullness (or stature) of Christ. For a moment, I want you to envision yourself as a teaspoon-the kind of spoon you use to put sugar into tea. The teaspoon is a very modest sort of measuring device.

Now-if you are a teaspoon-what sort of measuring device do you suppose Christ would be? I don't know either, but for the sake of discussion I am thinking of the large plastic buckets that can hold a 20 pound bag of rice or flour in my house. If that doesn't do it for you, imagine two Home Depot buckets stacked on top of each other.

Teaspoon. Big ol' bucket.

Back to Paul. He is saying that Christ gave these people in the church who pour into us and build us up until we have the fullness of the measure of Christ. My teaspoon just isn't big enough to hold the bucketful of the presence and character of Christ. So either I'm going to spill over. Not a bad thing. Or God is going to have to grow me up to handle the amount of Christ's goodness that he wants me to handle. It isn't just on his wish list for me, we are reaching (attaining) this goal. Paul says "...that he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." (Phil. 1:6)

Teaspoons and buckets weren't common as measure devices in Bible days. But jars were. Jars could be measures-like ephahs and omers. Sometimes I suspect that we worry about the weak areas in our lives giving out because of external pressures: job, finances, desires, relationships, etc. But maybe we should rejoice that the full measure of Christ is actually on the inside, trying to burst forth and the weak places are those places which give way to His grace sooner: "But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us." (2 Cor. 4:7)

Or, as Eugene Peterson said, "This God-life cannot be domesticated or used; it can only be entered into on its own terms. ... Holiness did not make God smaller so they could use God in convenient and manageable projects. It made those men larger so God could give out life through them, extravagantly, spontaneously."[1]

[1] Peterson, Eugene H.. As Kingfishers Catch Fire: A Conversation on the Ways of God Formed by the Words of God (p. 80). The Crown Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Ephesians 2:4-5: Competing Responses to Disruptions

The most holy and necessary practice in our spiritual life is the presence of God. That means finding constant pleasure in His divine company, speaking humbly and lovingly with him in all seasons, at every moment, without limiting the conversation in any way. ~ Brother Lawrence 

How do we practice the presence of God? During a panel discussion "Less Disruptions, More Presence" this past Sunday at our church there seemed to be two competing strategies towards coming into God's presence. The first is the path of solitude. The second is the path of rhythm.

One of the underlying assumptions in all of these discussions is that the presence of God is not a normal part of human existence. We don't naturally experience him, the kingdom of heaven or, indeed, much of anything spiritual.

And we impart this in words not taught by human wisdom but taught by the Spirit, interpreting spiritual truths to those who are spiritual. The natural person does not accept the things of the Spirit of God, for they are folly to him, and he is not able to understand them because they are spiritually discerned. - 1 Corinthians 2:13-14 (ESV)

When choosing sin, we lost our spiritual sense-the sense that allows us to experience directly God's kingdom. Elisha asked and God enabled a servant to see the horses and chariots that surrounded them. We often speak of the God (through his Spirit) speaking with us or stirring us or nudging us. What sense are we using? We lack the vocabulary to even describe it, so we borrow other sense words: "Hear the Lord." "Taste and see that the Lord is good."

There is a sense-a spiritual sense. We were not born with it, but we are all capable of it through regeneration in Christ. It was there in Eden, and part of God's design for all humans and it died with sin. 

But because of his great love for us, God, who is rich in mercy, made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions—it is by grace you have been saved. -  Ephesians 2:4-5

But this sense-even among the regenerate-is atrophied. So while hearing the Spirit (what word should I use!?) through this reawakened sense is startling and sweet, we are not used to it. Think of it as a drinking nectar through a micro-pipette. While we have been conditioned from birth to experience the world through our five senses, we have relatively little experience sensing spiritually. As a result, we often don't notice, or if we notice, we misinterpret what we experience. So the presence of God and the voice of God get drowned out by a thousand other sensations that pour into our brain every minute.

The path of solitude addresses this deficiency by removing distractions. Solitude uses silence to allow the "still, small voice" to break through into our consciousness. We can, with practice, hear God and enter his presence and, over time, widen our sensitivity so that the information that we can handle widens from a micro-pipette-sized flow to a straw-sized flow to maybe even a fire hose. In the same way that physical therapy restores an underused muscle to full capacity, the practice of solitude can restore our underdeveloped spiritual sensitivity to a greater capacity to hear and sense God.

One of the spiritual directors (Dan Maust) on Sunday related this path to "prayer dreaming". It takes advantage of the silence, where our brain will naturally wander-sometimes in predictable and sometimes in unpredictable. Rather than fighting this, he suggests that we pray and ask God into each of the items that pass into our thoughts during silence. I have found that long periods of silence, such as those in long drives or airplane flights, often provide the quiet that creates the context for God to speak and me to listen.

I think this is important because we are often too busy, even in our "quiet" times. Why? Because we have filled it with books and Scripture chapters and prayer lists that never leave room for God to speak because we have pre-determined the agenda.

The path of rhythm addresses this deficiency differently, by inviting God into the craziness of everyday life. Rather than removing distractions, it strives to invite God into the distraction using a "familiar, humble and very affectionate conversation with the Lord Jesus." Brother Lawrence comments:

The time of business does not differ with me from the time of prayer; and in the noise and clatter of my kitchen, while several persons are at the same time calling for different things, I possess God in as great tranquility as if I were on my knees. ~ Brother Lawrence

Both of these paths are important. We must widen the channel that flows between us and God. The path of solitude helps with that. But the path of solitude takes a rather negative view of disruptions. Should we reject disruptions as moving us away from God's presence-a posture of retreat in the face of what is happening in the environments where God has placed us?

No, rather the path of rhythm takes these "distractions" or "interruptions" as a beat in the musical score. We converse with God at these situations and attune ourselves to his voice.  The problem with an over-emphasis on this approach is the risk of allowing the external world to determine the agenda, rather than allowing God to insert his agenda.

My sheep listen to my voice; I know them, and they follow me. - John 10:25

Spend time in quiet. Invite God to each situation.

Luke 15:32: Lost and Found and Hiding

"...he was lost and is found." - Luke 15:32b

The story of the lost sons (or the prodigal son) is a familiar one to anyone with even a passing familiarity with the teachings of Jesus. Here is the subversive genius of the son of man's storytelling on full display, with its evocative imagery, masterful use of irony and insider's view into the heart of God.[1] But what has been bugging me for the past few months is this last verse from the story: "he was lost and is found."

Referring to the younger son, it begs the question: who "lost" him and who "found" him? We often use these terms in Christian circles in the reflexive voice: he lost his way or she found herself, referring to someone regaining direction or purpose in life. When looking at Jesus story then, we focus on the character of the two sons. The younger son loses his way, running from the father and in a moment of insight finds his way back to his father. The older son loses his way, physically close but emotionally far away and, in moment of angry disclosure, reveals his bitterness towards his father.

But, as accurate as these insights about the two sons may be, it is not how Jesus is using the terms "lost" and "found". In the parallel story of the lost sheep, the shepherd loses one sheep and then goes to find it. In the story of the lost coin, the woman loses one coin and then sweeps and searches to find it.  So ,also, the father loses his sons and wishes to find them.

How did the father lose them? Not by negligence or ignorance, but by conscious and deliberate choice. They chose to hide. Physically or emotionally, they separated themselves.

How did the father find them? This is interesting. With the coin and the sheep, we see immediate, directed action to recover them. But with the sons, the father seems passive, permissive and even impotent. Why? Because his sons must want to be found.

Imagine if the father sent out his hired men to find the younger son in the foreign land and forced him to return. Imagine if the father forced his older son to attend the banquet thrown for the younger son. The father does not just want their presence, he wants their hearts. So the most active, effective thing the father could do to find them is to wait and welcome.

Both sons wanted the bounty of the father, but without the father (cf. Luke 15:13, 15:29b). They are lost. The father waits for both sons and welcomes both sons to the feast. The story ends with the father waiting to see if the older son is willing to be found.

It is a question the Father still asks: are you willing to be found or do you still want to hide?

The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. Instead he is patient with you, not wanting anyone to perish, but everyone to come to repentance. - 2 Peter 3:9

[1]A masterful treatment can be found in the slim volume Prodigal God by Tim Keller. See http://www.timothykeller.com/books/the-prodigal-god.

Hebrews 12:29: The End Result of "On Fire" for God

Therefore let us be grateful for receiving a kingdom that cannot be shaken, and thus let us offer to God acceptable worship, with reverence and awe, for our God is a consuming fire. - Hebrews 12:28-29

When I was a young boy, my brother and I had a winter-time ritual. We would sit with our backs to the fire in the fireplace, warming ourselves until we could stand it no further and then we would run to the bathroom and lie down in the coolness of the bathtub. Then, when our backsides had recovered, we would go back and try it again. It was a silly game, but then again, brothers are competitive in a lot of ways.

How many times have I heard that people want to be on fire for God? To burn for Him because our God is a consuming fire. But they also want it to be painless. Like my fireplace, we want to stay close to God until we can't stand it and then go cool off. We want a campfire, marshmallow-roast, Ben-Gay warm spiritual experience, at our convenience.  We are fascinated by the finite and the futile and flammable.

...each one's work will become manifest, for the Day will disclose it, because it will be revealed by fire, and the fire will test what sort of work each one has done. If the work that anyone has built on the foundation survives, he will receive a reward. If anyone's work is burned up, he will suffer loss, though he himself will be saved, but only as through fire. - 1 Corinthian 3:14-15

The truth is, God's fire is painful because we are too invested in the chaff. Eugene Peterson says, "Chaff driven by the wind is the closest description of nothing that is available to the imagination. No weight, meaning or use....Does chaff exist? It is the dried-up husk of something that once bloomed, bore fruit, and brightened the landscape."[1]

We cling to chaff...to nothing. We have put so much of our heart into it that when it burns, we are seared. When the things that can be burned have been burned, what God has been forming in us remains.

In forest areas in the United States, forestry officials use controlled burns to reduce the impact of wildfires and prompt the natural cycle of regrowth. "Controlled burning stimulates the germination of some desirable forest trees, and reveals soil mineral layers which increases seedling vitality, thus renewing the forest. Some cones, such as those of Lodgepole Pine and Sequoia, are serotinous, as well as many chaparral shrubs, meaning they require heat from fire to open cones to disperse seeds."[2]

It is a dangerous prayer to tell God that you wish to be on fire for Jesus. God does not commit random acts, nor malicious arson, but rather uses controlled burns that leave the long-term growth potential placed in us by the life-giving Spirit unveiled. Are you willing to pray this serious prayer?

[1]Eugene Peterson, As Kingfishers Catch Fire, "Psalm 1: Blessed"
[2]https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Controlled_burn, retrieved on 1 October 2017

Psalm 138:8: God's Story In Me

The Lord will fulfill his purpose for me. Your steadfast love, O Lord endures forever. Do not abandon the works of your hands. - Psalm 138:8 (ESV)

We don't get to see Ruth often because we don't live close. She is one of the few people who has known Helen and I since before we were married, and, as such, she has a unique perspective on our life story. After breakfast recently, she had written this verse out for me-a reminder to me.

God's Story, Not Mine

It is a reminder that it is God's purpose, not mine. The win is when God gets full credit for who he is and what he does. It his "his name and word" that are on the line (vs. 2, 4). My reputation is expendable. When I try to re-write the script so that my story is foremost, I will be disappointed.  In the psalm, even the gods (vs. 1) and the kings (vs. 4-5) give up the spotlight to God, whose Q score leaves them lost behind the decimal point.

In the play Rosencrantz and Guildenstern Are Dead, two minor characters from Shakespeare's Hamlet are absurdly elevated to the starring roles. The spotlight is on them and they get the the monologues. Hamlet, Ophelia, Claudius? Mere bit players! Or so they would make seem. Because whatever their individual plot lines, the play is still Hamlet's. His story drives the plot and their story is a merely sub-plot--no matter how elaborate--within his.[1]

God will have the starring role. Period. The question is: will I take the supporting role graciously? (Phil 2:9-13) For me, when people are pushing and clamoring for more spotlight, my tendency is to join them in the brawl. Its sort of a habit--a sort of significance, wall-flower fear. The sort of habit that says if nine people have some profound prayer to offer, I guess I'd better also. If three other people complain about their spouse, I need to come up with some fault so I can join in. If you went to Maui, I went to Paris. If you figured out the bug in the code, it wasn't very difficult anyway, was it? But if I solved it, it was the bug equivalent of the grand unified theory or the P=NP problem.

Why must "I must have my share in the conversation"?[2] I don't. Today is not about me, and it might even be someone else's sub-plot. But it is my part, uniquely set out for me by God.

God's Ability, Not Mine

This verse is also a reminder that God's has the ability to pull it off what he plans for me. His plans are not like a Sunday football game that is played "if conditions permit." The author of the psalm has seen this first hand. When he didn't know what to do, he asked and God answered (vs. 3a). When he wasn't sure if he had the internal willpower to do it, God reinforced (vs. 3b.) When others overlooked or ignored him, God didn't (vs. 6). When his life was threatened and people threw up obstacles, God pulled him through (vs. 7).

Have you ever had a two-body problem suddenly become a three-body problem? This happens when I'm working on a project in the back yard of my house--a simple two-body problem consisting of me and the task at hand. Then Helen interjects an opinion of what should be done or how it should be done and suddenly what was a simple two-body problem has become a three-body problem which, as everyone knows, has no general solution. Or, at least not one that makes everyone happy :-)

Yet fundamentally, all of our problems in the life of Jesus followers are three-body problems because we have invited God into our lives. When we did that, our life became more complicated--more than a matter of solving problems to our own satisfaction. But it also gained the potential to become more satisfying and more influential because no problem really worth solving is a two-body problem.

I've come to realize recently that out of cowardice--there's no nicer word for it--I often try to simplify in the worst possible way by factoring God out of the problem. I'd like to do what I want, or do it my way so I just fail to mention it to God or wait for his opinion. It's not like he can't find out, right? But honestly, its my way of trying to keep control. This habit isn't just with God, either.

Life isn't simple or safe. I can use the chainsaw on a crooked ladder while Helen is gone, and it works most of the time. But the one time I fell and ended up unable to move on my back with bruised ribs, I wondered why I didn't wait for her.

How many times have we ruefully asked ourselves why we didn't work it out with God? As Paul says, "work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure." (Phil 2:12b-13)

When God fulfills his purposes for me, he guarantees what is needed. Some of the scars are needful, and others are self-inflicted.

How God Feels About Me

Finally, this verse reminds me how God really feels about me. The writer reminds God "your steadfast love, O Lord endures forever." Ouch. It is one thing to know that God is good. It is another to know how he feels about flawed people like us. It is the question Satan was really asking Eve in the garden, "Is God good? Does he really have your best interests at heart?"

The writer appeals to God's own character: his steadfast, loyal and permanent love--love that is not based on our track record of obedience, but on on God's long-standing promise to his people. That kind of God, the writer reminds God, does "not abandon the works of your hands." (vs. 8)

Paul echoes this: "And I am sure of this, that he who began a good work in you will bring it to completion at the day of Jesus Christ." (Phil. 1:6)

That cowardice comes back in me: I'm not sure I can handle God's direct attention! He is a "consuming fire" (Heb. 12:29) and we say we want to be on-fire for God, forgetting how fire burns. We are fragile and he is God. Only my confidence in God's regard for me lets me trust what he is pulling me through.




[1] Hamlet, William Shakespeare, Act V, Scene II, line 411. They both end up in the tally of the dead by the play's end.

[2] Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen, Volume 2, chapter 8 (ch. 31), Lady Catherine de Bourgh speaking.