Spilled Wine

This is going to be a quick one.

I have been a pastor for almost 25 years.  Over and over and over I have taught people God is not a formula.  If you do A and B then He will do C.

It doesn’t matter what result you want in C–you don’t get to control the outcome.  So if you want salvation, it is not as easy as confess and be baptized then you are saved–it is much more complex.  If you want healing it is not so simple as calling the elders to come and anoint you with oil.  God doesn’t work on formulas.

It is funny, however, now I am looking for formulas.

Wendy and I were having coffee.  I was running through my mind, “What did I do wrong? Why did God bring me here to drop me?  Was it some sin?  Did I not listen to His leading?”  Wendy got kind of testy.  She can do that.  She said, “No.  You followed the call.  You did what God wanted you to do.  Lives were changed.  Eyes were opened.  Just because you were faithful doesn’t mean you get an easy ride.”

Sheesh.  I think I knew that.

Strange, though, how when you are facing issues in your own life, the first thing you look for is a formula.  What do you know, put people in a garden, tell them to stay away from the tree, and before long they are making their own decisions.

Those decisions have an effect on everyone down stream.

Just because I didn’t pee in the water doesn’t mean I get to drink the clean stuff.

Thanks, Wendy for reminding me what I already knew.

In the ancient world, when armies wanted to completely destroy an enemy long after they had gone, they would salt their fields.  It rendered the land sterile for a long time. No life.  No crops.

I have sat down to write many times in the past few weeks, but nothing came to me.  My soul is sterile.

I have wondered of and over how God could have ever used this dry soul to lead His Church.  The plants are withered and dry.  The soil is almost white with toxic sodium.

The answer, I believe is that there was fruit here. Rows and rows of crops grew here.  I remember times when the ground brought forth fruits of grace and hope.  I remember when people would stand around and celebrate the joy of the harvest.

Those were good days.

Then soldiers came and covered the field with salt.

I wish I could say they overpowered me.  I wish I could say I fought right to the bitter end.  I wish I could say, but I can’t.

The worst part of this destruction–at least for me–the soldiers did not blitz in a night, they came to me as friends.  I opened the front door.  I welcomed them in.  I fed them at my table.  I shared with them the precious fruit of my harvest.  Then, having won my trust, they pulled out bag after bag of salt.  Before I knew it, everything was sterile.

Nothing grows here now.

It is dead.

But something inside me is calling me to sit patiently and watch.  My hope is that one day, the stone will roll away and life will come from death.  My hope is this sterile soil will one day sprout resurrection.

Please, God, You are resurrection and life.  I could sure use You right now.

Lemmings are iconic rodents.  They are the mascots for those who follow the crowd to their own demise.

The cry of authoritarian leaders everywhere is, “Follow me without question.”  It doesn’t matter if it is a political leader pointing a flag, a husband playing Bill Gothard tapes, or a church leader thumping the Bible–they all say the same thing.  Despite the protest of history, reason and the Bible, there are always a plethora of lemmings who will follow them.

Is there a place for rightful authority?  Of course there is.  Is there also a place for people under authority to think for themselves?  Always.

Being a leader is a tremendous responsibility because there will always be a segment of the population who would rather follow than think.  Responsible leaders ask them to think–they beg their followers to think.  Dangerous leaders take their authority and use it as a lever to slow the thinking of the thinkers and quicken the pace of the lemmings.

Though Jesus had all authority, he refused to lead with it.  Yet He, who would not break a bruised reed or quench a smoldering wick, led with great effectiveness by quickening men and women to dare to think beyond the authority of their oppressors.  Under His leadership bruised reeds healed and smoldering wicks burned with intense heat.

FAQ….

I thought I would write a little document to answer some of the most frequently asked questions from our friends at Singing Hills.

Would you start a new church if we came? 

No.  I seriously appreciate the love and support behind the question, but I just don’t think this is the right path for us right now.

Will it change our friendship if we stay at SHCC?

No.  I don’t feel like staying or leaving either one is a reflection on our friendship or love for one another.

Should we stay or go? 

That is a personal call for you.  This is not a choice between good and evil, or spiritual or non-spiritual.  The elders are, to a man, good and godly men.  I don’t evaluate their decision in terms of good or evil, I prefer to put it in the category of wise and foolish.  Time will tell which it was.  I can’t see any wisdom behind it, but time will tell.

Will you be ok? 

Yes.  We are scrambling to make some key changes in our business to allow us to take a real salary from it.  The elders have said they will pay me for 60 days plus the three weeks of vacation time I have.  I trust them to honor their word and we are planning to be ready when the salary runs out.

Will you get back in the ministry?

Honestly, I don’t know.  The last two years have been very tough on me, and right now any place looks better than Nineveh.  We have signed a three year lease on the knife store and are upside down in our house.  We will spend the next three years healing—for both of us spiritually and with Wendy, also physically.  In three years, we will seek God’s direction.

We would love to maintain relationships with people who would like.  I will likely not seek them out because I don’t want to force people to feel like they have to choose between a relationship with our family and Singing Hills.

Please pray for us and for our children that God will grant us the grace of His peace.

Yesterday I resigned my position as the Sr. Pastor at Singing Hills.  There are a lot of questions as to why and what happened.  I am willing to answer those questions honestly when you ask them privately, but for now, we will leave it at that.

I sincerely love the church and I love the ministry.  I believe it to be my calling from God and, for 24 years I have faithfully followed that calling.  It is strange how circumstances can shatter the foundations of your identity.  I am not a pastor any longer.  Right now, I don’t have any intention of changing that any time soon.  I am not ready to put my family back through this hell.  I want my kids to love God and the church as much as I do.

Wendy has requested that I take a couple hours each week to think and write just to keep me in touch with God and with thinking theologically.  I am planning to do as she asked.  I will write to this blog.  I would be very appreciative if you would continue to read and respond.  If my writing is good for you, I am blessed.  Even if it is not, it is good for me.

I love to preach. It is what I was called to do.

I suppose it should not be a surprise it is a paradoxical calling. I hate it and I love it. I love it because there is no greater honor to study and pray and ponder and speak the word of God to the church. I hate it because speaking the word of God is painful to me.

This week someone wrinkled his brow and said, “Your preaching is so negative.”

 I went through and listened to a number of sermons and watched a bunch of videos. I didn’t hear negativity.

Wendy reminded me that another person, who has heard hundreds of my sermons, said she had never heard such grace preached more clearly in her life.

Who is right? How do we sort it out? Is it possible for two people to hear the same preaching and one hear grace while the other hears doom and gloom?

My preaching is not all sanguine. It is not butterflies and rainbows. When I preach, I try to get to where the text really matters to those of us who live in the real world. Butterflies and rainbows, while real, are generally the adornments of a world filled with bugs and thunderstorms. I like to talk about the bugs and thunderstorms. I see more of them than I do butterflies and rainbows.

Grace is not the Disney dream of songbirds, butterflies and rainbows, grace is good and beautiful, but it is good and beautiful in the midst of a world filled with bugs and thunderstorms.

Grace is not beauty in and of itself. Grace is beauty in contrast.

Grace is shelter in a storm. Grace is light in the darkness. Grace is hope in despair. Grace is sight for the blind. Grace is life out of death. Grace is righteousness for sinners. Grace exists only in a world and to a people who desperately need it.

And for those who like to think of themselves as good, grace is a terrible reminder of a truth they prefer to ignore. That truth, is that we fail. We fail over and over. Grace says, “God loves us anyway.” We would prefer to shorten it and simply think, “God loves us.”

But for those of us who are all too aware of our feet of clay, we need to be reminded God loves us anyway. We look in the mirror and don’t see someone who would naturally draw the love of a Holy God. We feel the shame of our own nakedness.

I am someone who is painfully aware of my own brokenness. I need to hear someone say, “God is not blind–He sees you for who you really are, and He loves you anyway.”

I know more broken people than whole ones, and so I guess will keep speaking the Gospel I know. It is good news of wholeness to this broken man.

I have always loved great people.

I mean the Martin Luther Kings and the Steve Jobs of the world, but I also mean the Earl Dingus and Brad Park and Nathan Stoller, and Cheryl Cantrell, and Wiesiek Pruszkowskis of the world.

For those of you who don’t know…Earl is a mechanic and if it can or ever has run, he can fix it.  Brad is a farmer who knows his cows and his land like an artist knows canvas.  Nathan is a carpenter who is not afraid of any project—if it can be done with wood, he can do it.  Cheryl is a stay a home mom who is one of the most productive, organized and willing people I have ever met.  Wiesiek is a musician of the highest order and with just a few notes, he can usher you into the presence of God.

I love great people.

Some people love Earl because their car breaks down.  Some people love Brad because they have sick cows.  Some people love Nathan because their floor is sagging.  Some people love Cheryl because they need a hand.  Some people love Wiesiek because they have a wedding that needs music.  I don’t.

I can always find a mechanic or a farmer, or a carpenter, or a volunteer, or a musician—what these people have is not just a skill set.  What they have is greatness.  They are great at what they do and they are passionate about it.

I love great people because great people inspire me.  I can’t get enough of them.  I love to hear them talk about what they do and how they do it and why they do it.  I don’t care what it is they do  They make me a better theologian because they inspire me.  They show me the beauty in things I would never see if they were not there.  They make me think differently.

My life is better, fuller and richer because of really great people.  If you are one of those people—and I haven’t named nearly all of them—thanks.

People say, “Hindsight is 20/20.”  They mean we see things in the rearview mirror we missed as we drove by.  I really hate hindsight.

Hindsight shows me how foolish I really am.  I look back over the last 2 years and I see all of the classic signs of a brain tumor in Wendy.  They were signs I should have seen.  I look back over the last nearly 18 years and I see some pretty foolish things I did as a parent.  They are things I did in anger to make a point, but neither made my point, nor satisfied my anger.  I look back over 22 years of marriage and I have to laugh at some of the arguments Wendy and I have had.  They were things we thought life and death depended upon.  They didn’t.

When I look back on my years of following Jesus, there is much I regret.

I was harsh and judgmental.  I was a legalist.  I was self-righteous.  I twisted Scripture to get what I wanted.  I faced tough moments and denied my faith.  I have made some pretty foolish stands.

I hate the rearview mirror.  It is not safe to drive watching it.

Judas betrayed Jesus.  I am sure he had his reasons.  At the time it must have seemed like a wise and good move.  It wasn’t.

It didn’t take Judas very long to look in the rearview mirror and regret what he had done.  He could see clearly his foolishness.  The consequences would change the world.

Judas couldn’t take his eyes off of his sin.  He drove looking at the rearview mirror.  He never looked back at the road.

Jesus death means we can look back and groan, but our mistakes do not have to end our lives.  We have to keep driving down the road.  Grace demands it.

I think all of us at some point in the direction of our children and say, “Remind me why we had those…”  If you haven’t done that, you probably aren’t done raising them yet.

We ask that in moments of frustration when we are hurt or not sure what to do.  If you are like me, it doesn’t take long before you remember.  I like to remember.

I had children because I love to love.  It is part of the image of God in us that we love like He loves.  We had our part in creating and we created that we might love.  We love them as they are and as they will be.  We love them without regard to their ability or willingness to love us back.  We love them even though we know they will break our heart.  I love my children!

I had children because they remind me what is to come.  Every time I look at one of my children, I think about all of the life that is before them.  There is school, love, work, children, following Jesus—life.  Much of that life is now behind me.  All of the things I wanted to do, but didn’t—they are on the front end of that.  They get to tackle it all for themselves.  It will be fun to watch.  They give me hope.

I had children because children are good and they are from God.  They are His blessing to me.

Behold, children are a gift of the Lord
The fruit of the womb is a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior,
So are the children of one’s youth.
How blessed is the man whose quiver is full of them;
They will not be ashamed
When they speak with their enemies in the gate

              –Psalm 127:3-5

That is why I had kids.

I was reading Amos this morning.  It talks about justice.

Justice as a Western idea is the meting out of everyone’s just due.  The good are rewarded and the evil punished.  Laws are adjudicated with an even hand.  THAT is justice for us.

It is not biblical justice.

Biblical justice is different.  It is weighted.  It is skewed toward the weak and oppressed.  It is skewed against the oppressors.

So when the rich eat and the poor are hungry, God sides with the hungry.  When the powerless are under the boot of the powerful, God sides with the powerless.  Over and over, it is widows, orphans and aliens (not ET…) who are given the special protection of God because there is no one else looking after them.  When someone takes advantage of another person simply because he can—because he is an opportunistic bully—he makes God his enemy.  God is oppressed by no one.

Biblical justice can mingle justice and mercy because mercy is justice.  Justice is kindness towards those who are hurting.  Justice is food to the hungry.  Justice is a bandage to the wounded.

Biblical justice can mingle justice and righteousness because righteousness is justice.  Justice is loving God.  Justice is loving people.  Justice is denial of self and taking up a cross (a willing sacrifice for those unable to pay their own debt) and following Jesus.

Biblical justice is also judgment.  The Bible talks of the Day of the Lord when YHWH will make all the wrongs right and those who love darkness will be cast into a place that reflects their lightlessness.  And on the Day of the Lord, those who have loved light and sought mercy will be drawn to a place where their light will be further illuminated by the One who is light.

Biblical justice is a beautiful thing—to be embraced by those who love justice and feared by those who work against it.

Amos is about biblical justice.  Today my prayer is the Word of God to Amos.

 Let justice roll down like waters
And Righteousness like an ever-flowing stream
–Amos 5:24