If my self won’t, my mind will

How is it that every time I resolve myself to lose weight, it’s while I’m eating Oreos? Or when I commit myself to a challenging regimen of exercise, I’m watching the P90X commercial on TV? There are many times when my emotional life out of control and my spirit is clearly not aligned and instead of sitting down in silence to array and reflect, I blog and get caught in the twitter whirlwind.

It’s a brain problem.

My mind is in charge of my will.

Today I saw this tweet from @Susan_Cox, “The first and foremost Victory is to Conquer self.” Plato

The self has an issue. It’s afraid that something will become more important that it. It’s afraid that it might not get what it wants. It’s afraid that today is something it may not survive.

Paul talked about this in his first letter to the Corinthians, “So I do not run aimlessly, nor do I box as though beating the air; but I punish my body and enslave it, so that after proclaiming to others I myself should not be disqualified. [9:26-27]”

The Greek word, doulagogeo, means “to carry away into slavery.” Paul is commenting on what Plato identified as the chief enemy of progress: self. The self, in matters of personal growth, needs to be shown who is boss. Strength, in this case, is a matter of spirit.

God’s spirit empowers us to train the self become a slave to the mastery of transformation. How? Community. It’s important to surround yourself with people who won’t let you get away with your stuff. Accountibility. It’s not a bad word. Accountability is the exercise regimen of transformation.

It’s the hand that slaps you as you reach for that Oreo. It’s the friend who runs P90X with you. It’s the alarm on your phone that tells you it’s time to sit in silence and reflect and pray.

It’s the list of men and women along the way who weren’t surprised when you acted like a disciple. Christ has conquered self. Victory is in him, but the work…is all yours.

the meaning of the parable

Last week I posted this parable.

The question that remains is, “so what does the parable mean?”

Besides the obvious, you assigning meaning as it fits your experience and context, here’s what I have to add:

Up to the very end of its lifecycle, grain and chaff are one and the same thing. The wheat is the inside and the chaff is the outside. In order to separate the useful from the useless, a winnower has to give the grain time to dry, separating the wheat from its sheath, scoop the grain up and toss it high into the air. The wind that blows through the threshing floor, the place chosen to toss wheat because of the wind, blows the dry chaff from the grain into an area where it can be collected. The grain, however, falls back down to the ground where it will be gathered for use.

In Matthew 3, John the Baptist introduces Jesus as the winnower and draws the comparison between the people and the wheat.

“I baptize you with water for repentance, but one who is more powerful than I is coming after me; I am not worthy to carry his sandals. He will baptize you with the Holy Spirit and fire. His winnowing fork is in his hand, and he will clear his threshing floor and will gather his wheat into the granary; but the chaff he will burn with unquenchable fire.” Matthew 3:11-12

So many times, I’ve read this as a statement of judgment, like Jesus was some cosmic boogie man separating the bad people from the good people; like a predestination assembly line. But that’s not what’s going on here. This isn’t the sheep and goats (MT 25:31-46), this is a prophetic statement about the way that Jesus is going to transform people who believe in him. This is a commentary about a singular we.

It’s not unheard of for humanity to conform to an agricultural metaphor in Scripture. Look at how Paul describes us in 1 Corinthians:

“For we are God’s servants, working together; you are God’s field, God’s building [3:9].” God’s field will be harvested and Jesus will have a heavy hand in the work. But this transformative winnowing process is character shaping. This is what Paul refers to saying, “So if anyone is in Christ, there is a new creation: everything old has passed away; see, everything has become new! [2 Cor 5:17]”

This parable begins with the understanding that the chief end of humanity is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. The divine intent of being is to join our lives to mission of Christ on the earth. So, the grain has a choice. For instance:

The moldy grain grew in the field (Ps 24:1), but didn’t know about the field or the farmer, and in turn didn’t want anymore than to stay put never knowing anything beyond the limits of its experience.

The high flying grain knew about the farmer and could see the winnower, but wanted to live life free from the farmer, afraid of the hand of the winnower. This grain was impulsive and lacked wisdom.

The burrowing grain went so far and no more. It bought into the program, but when the time came for transformation, to be gathered by the fork of the winnower, it laid low and thought no one would notice.

The grain that went all the way to the gathering was transformed into something useful. It fulfilled its purpose this side of the reaping and harvesting. Despite the discomfort of change, the grain gave itself over to the winnower and bread maker.

This grain, too, got to the point of transformation, but disagreed on the end result. In the spirit of the first rebellion, this one chose to redefine its being and purpose on its own. It ended up in the pile that could not be used.

To be in the hands of Jesus is to be transformed. It’s not comfortable. It’s not entirely what we have in mind for ourselves, in some cases, but (to borrows a sentiment from Mrs. Beaver) it is good.

Identity Is Everything (Part 1)

“Once Upon A Time” — those are wonderfully constructed, magical and inspiring words. When you hear them, you know that you are about to hear a story. Every life begins with “Once Upon A Time”. Every day, every relationship, every moment is a “Once Upon A Time” moment.

This weekend I led a camp focused on the theme of identity.

As I looked at the stories I surround myself with, I realized that identity is at the heart of story (99.99% of the time). If you look deeply, peal back a layer, every story is about the quest for identity. The search for identity is basic to the human experience.

We are relentless in our quest to answer these questions:

  • Who Am I?
  • Where Do I Belong?
  • What Is My Purpose?
  • To answer to these questions is to understand identity.

    One of the earliest stories, The Odyssey, is about a son’s quest to find his father. This is the such a crucial statement about humanity; a “beginning” story. In order to answer “Who am I?” Telemachus had to contend with his father.

    That is the story of Israel.
    That is the story of “The Prodigal Son.”
    That is the story of the Church.

    Identity is everything.

    That’s one reason why I find Christian scripture so profound. It both articulates and illustrates the identity of the Father, so that we might understand our identity in him.

    Peter wrote to the believers in Asia Minor, who were confused about their identity — their new identity in Christ, “May the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ be blessed! On account of his vast mercy, he has given us new birth. You have been born anew into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead [1 Pet 1:3; CEB].”

    This is a statement about identity. Because Christ is merciful, and not vengeful, he has provided a new story, beyond the story we find ourselves stuck in. In Christ, we are invited out of the stories that hurt, confound, bore and perplex us and into his story: a story where we are found with eternal life, a story where death is no longer an active threat in the cosmos. A story where God, the King of the Universe, has no end.

    Tomorrow, I’ll funnel through a list of stories. It’s interesting to see the stories we surround ourselves with and connect them to the quest for…identity.

    Find Part 2 here.

    Winnowing of the Wheat: a parable

    There once was a field.

    In the field there was a glorious abundance of wheat stalks nearly ready for harvest. Among the wheat, their was a grain so comfortable in its covering that it refused to dry out for harvest. Holding onto its moisture, it quickly became moldy and viscous, dripping to the ground. There was another grain who saw the winnowers at work and feared the coming harvest. It forced its sheath to open, caught the wind and flew free, high above the field, only to be snatched out the sky by a young crow.

    When harvest time came, one grain, after falling to the ground, burrowed deep beneath the crop and was left unharvested. That night, it was gleaned by the poor who followed behind the workers and eaten on the spot.

    After the grain was left to dry, it was brought to the threshing floor and the workers began to winnow. As they tossed the harvest into the air, many grains flew free of their chaff, were sold, ground up and became the bread of Princes, Kings, prisoners and paupers. But other grains would not let go of the old dry chaff. They clung to it even as they were thrown into the fire.

    Cell Phones, McDonalds and the Bread of Life

    I’ve been meditating on the Bread of Life verses from John 6, specifically verse 35: “Jesus said to them, “I am the bread of life. Whoever comes to me will never be hungry, and whoever believes in me will never be thirsty.”

    As Jesus continues this first “I AM” statement, you can’t help but to picture the relational importance of the common meal. The Bread of Life is a call to relationship, not food. Jesus is reconstituting the Passover meal around himself. His is the bread that sustained the Jews while the angel passed over. He is the manna that was sent from heaven to sustain the people of God and he is the Bread of life that sustains the world in God’s grace.

    In Arizona, where it gets to be two hundred degrees in the Summer…that’s a little overstatement, but what’s the difference?…I remember, we used to take our kids to McDonalds because they had the boss play place. When we started to go there, our children were 2 and…well, unborn.

    At the time, my wife and I had just got our first personal cell phones. They were nokia flip phones and we didn’t know how to text. I swear, it took two years to figure our predictive text. Hence, our phones just rang, and since we were some of the only people who called each other, they didn’t ring when we were at such fine eateries. At the time, the Happy Meal was center of the common meal. We’d sit together and then watch our kid(s) scream around the kids’ area.

    We were there from 2000-2010, the ten years where cell phones went from flip to hip, from push apart to really smart. I watched the evolution take place at McDonalds. It was more noticeable there. In the ten year transition, I watched parents with silly Nokias engage their children (unless called) and then that began to change. As phones changed, a wall got built between mother and child, father and familiy. By the time we left in 2010, it was common to see kids running around crazy like and parents caught in the “me coma” of the hypnotic iPhone screen.

    Let’s try something…next time you take your kids anywhere, leave the phone at home. If you’re going to go to McDonalds, engage an opportunity to break bread (-like substances) and build relationships. Fellas, it’s much sexier when you talk to your woman than ignore her…totally free and effective advice.

    We are supposed to be “Lovin It!” but without foursquare, would we know we were there?

    The people who surrounded Jesus in John 6 wanted more fast food, they wanted their stomachs filled more than their hearts. Their eyes were filled with the desire for more and they missed Jesus who was more than enough.

    Don’t miss the Bread of Life. You will never hunger again.

    “It’s Not Supposed To Be Like This”

    Looking at John 5:1-18, the central question today is, why does Jesus heal the man knowing that it is Sabbath and he will bring on the persecution of the Jewish leaders?

    For one, it is commonplace in John’s Gospel for Jesus to “stick it to the man.” There’s more, though.

    When Jesus arrives in Jerusalem there is a Jewish Festival in progress. Commentators seem to conclude that there were four it might have been: Passover, Pentecost, Rosh Hoshanna, or Tabernacles. While opinions differ, they are in total agreement that of those four…it was one of them.

    One of the things a statement like this makes is while we don’t know what time of year it was, there were lots of people there. People going to get right with God, to make straight their paths, to exist in the thick of their identity as the whole people of God.

    I believe that John paints pictures for us to not only follow the story, but see the story he’s telling in the light of the whole story that God is telling. When Jews entered Jerusalem, they went…to the Temple. That was the center of God’s activity in Israel. God was active where the Temple was. That was his neighborhood, his house, his…box. But wait! Where do we find God in this story? Walking on the out skirts. A good distance from the priests and preachers, God is moving among the lame and blind, the sick and paralyzed.

    Coincidence? I think not.

    John points out that the location of the five Porticos is near the Sheep Gate. It’s a small detail. When the exiles returned from the Persian captivity of King Artaxerxes back to Jerusalem, they began to rebuild the great wall around the city. The first thing they set to repair was the Sheep Gate. Why this gate? For one, this was the the northern most point of access to the Temple. But more importantly, it was the gate through which the sheep which were to be sacrificed for sin were led to the Temple.

    Do you remember the first description of Jesus in John’s Gospel?

    John the Baptizer saw him and cried out, “Look! The Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world.”

    The lamb had entered the gate, and soon the sins of the world would be taken away by his sacrifice.

    It was there that Jesus found what he was looking for, a man who was infirm, sick. No longer whole. A man in whom God’s shalom did not reside. He had been sick for thirty eight years. He was lying down. John records that Jesus noticed he had already been there a long time. How could he tell? Imagine the life of a man who can’t move, who is sick hopeless and who’s body still functions normally in some ways. Not only was this man dealing with infirmity, but the abject humiliation of living in his own mess.

    But it’s into this mess that Jesus walks into. He seeks it out.

    If you think your life, your problems, your choices, your actions are to messy for Jesus; if you think you can keep him away then this Scripture is Gospel because the Good News is nothing can keep us from the relentless pursuit of Jesus’ love.

    Jesus asks the man if he wants to be made well. The Greek tells us there’s a bit more going on than a doctor fixing a patient. What Jesus asks is, “would you like to be restored to whole?” “Would you like to be made complete?” “Would you like Shalom? God’s intention for all life and creation.”

    Cornelius Plantinga writes, “In the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight — a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, a state of affairs that inspires joyful wonder as its Creator and Savior opens doors and welcomes the creatures in whom he delights.
    Shalom, in other words, is the way things ought to be.”

    But the world isn’t “the way things ought to be.” God’s shalom has been interrupted by the wages of sin, which Plantinga describes as, “Sin is disruption of created harmony and then resistance to divine restoration of that harmony. Above all, sin disrupts and resists the vital human relation to God, and it does all this disrupting and resisting in a number of intertwined ways.”

    Jesus’ mission is to restore Shalom.

    Since the rest of the chapter deals with Jesus healing someone on the Sabbath, breaking the law and causing the man to break the law by carrying his mat, many commentators and preachers have asked the question, “WHY?” Why did Jesus not just wait a day and fly below the radar? Why did he have to heal this man today. Thirty eight years…couldn’t he wait one more day?

    John Calvin wrote, Why not? “We ought to proclaim the glory of God and celebrate His works, so far as His glory requires that they should be made known.”

    I believe that Jesus walks up to this man, sees that there is no shalom, no wholeness in his life and responds the way he does because it’s not supposed to be like this. Men are not supposed to lie in their own filth and nearly starve to death every day, seeing the water of healing in front of them but always just out of reach.

    It’s not supposed to be like this!

    Jesus knows that the Father isn’t afraid we’ll break the Sabbath, he’s concerned we won’t keep it. We work and work our fingers to the bone to the point that we’re so tired and exhausted, consumed by our own ideas of conflated self-importance, that we lose our ability to distinguish God from idol, the real thing for the imitation. We will worship the next thing that offers us rest, comfort and distraction.

    Sabbath protects the shalom of time.

    It’s important to remember that worship occurs in time.

    Which brings me to the last point in this post.

    There are several reason that a Jew in the temple compound would have to be immersed in the pool, specifically a pool that is (metaphorically described as) a “living spring”, see the attribution to angels in v.4, a later addition to the passage generally omitted from credible witnesses. One is to purify the body after unusual emissions. Another is a step in the process of recovering from various skin diseases. Another is before Yom Kippur, as this was generally a priest like Aaron. The man who complains that there is no one to put him in the water, may be complaining that he is unable to worship God, unable to complete the purification process. Process is in the way of worship.

    The restoration of worship is the restoration of Shalom.

    So, why does Jesus heal the man knowing that it is Sabbath and he will bring on the persecution of the Jewish leaders?

    Because he knows how it’s supposed to be.

    “The Single Story”: John 4:1-42

    He told me everything I’ve ever done [Jn 4:39; CEB]”

    After talking about the danger of a single story, how do you read this verse? Do you agree that the woman at the well felt like Jesus spoke to her as though she was a three dimensional human being? Was that possibly his brilliant evangelical strategy?

    What about this: “Many more believed because of his word, and they said to the woman, “We no longer believe because of what you said, for we have heard for ourselves and know that this one is truly the savior of the world [Jn 4:41-42; CEB].”

    Does being the Savior of the World mean also saving the story of the world, telling it the way God tells it? How important, do you think, is the story that God is telling about you? When Paul writes, “So now there isn’t any condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus [Rom 8:1; CEB],” what story does that tell about you? About the world?

    How about Galatians 3:28, “There is neither Jew nor Greek; there is neither slave nor free; nor is there male or female, for you are all one in Jesus Christ.”

    How does Jesus strip away the categories that we often define one another by?
    Who are you once your ethnic, political and sexual identity is removed? Is that what Jesus is doing?

    Take a look at this video. I think she’s on to something!

    Chimamanda Adichie on “the Danger of the Single Story”

    Find her books here.

  • Has anyone ever told a single story about you?
  • What story do you tell about yourself? Is it negative, positive, focused on one thing?
  • Is it even true?
  • Is the story you tell about yourself the story you want to tell about yourself?
  • Is the story you tell about yourself the story Jesus tells about you?
  • Kony 2012: Invisible Children

    This is the video that has swept the nation. At the time of writing this, over 67 million viewers have watched this film created by Invisible Children, and organization developed to save children in sub-Saharan Africa who are kidnapped and coerced into service in Joseph Kony’s Lord’s Resistance Army. The world has known for years that boys and girls have been brutally coopted into atrocities that are difficult to even talk about and the time has come to stop it. Using social media, Invisible Children has devised an absolutely brilliant plan to bring Joseph Kony to justice.

    Many African responses (via Boing Boing) have included a direct reference to “the danger of the single story.” On Twitter, you can track many in Africa who are engaging this on a world scale.

    This is a brilliant response, in my opinion. The Ugandan government and army successfully pushed the LRA out of Uganda and into the northwest (DRC). They are not a helpless regime that needs the US to step in. Invisible Children could have asked for “different actors” to speak up about what positive steps have been taken and the successes that the Army has achieved. Of course, this response in itself, is a single story. What we need is the world to address a world problem. Abuse and oppression of children is a global issue, NOT and African one.

    Here is an NPR interview where Steve Inskeep talks to Barbara Among, a journalist with Uganda’s Daily Monitor, to find out what Ugandans think of the campaign.

    The single story disables reconciliation in community. The single story leads to a dangerous progression of misunderstanding, distrust and outright persecution. The single story denies the effectiveness, the power of God’s grace received and given. The Christian community is one that sees itself in the middle of God’s story, marinating in the image of Jesus and empowered by the Holy spirit to do radical works of forgiveness and reconciliation in the world. God has entrusted we ‘new creations’ with the message of reconciliation: “God was reconciling the world to himself through Christ, by not counting people’s sins against them [2 Cor 5:19].”

    In other words, reconciliation = telling another story about the world around you, a better story, the story that Jesus is telling. So how do we tell that story? What will it cost? Will it be painful?

    Donald Miller wrote in his book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Life, “Here’s the truth about telling stories with your life. It’s going to sound like a great idea, and you are going to get excited about it, and then when it comes time to do the work, you’re not going to want to do it. It’s like that with writing books, and it’s like that with life. People love to have lived a great story, but few people like the work it takes to make it happen. But joy costs pain.”

    If we take Scripture seriously, Christians have to acknowledge that we are not only a forgiven people called to forgive one another; we have also been entrusted with the message of God’s forgiveness and reconciliation for the whole world.

    Finding and Being Found

    In the passage, John 1:35-51, which I’m preparing to preach on Sunday, the greek word eurisko is used five times. The word means “I find.”

    In v.41, Jesus finds Andrew.
    Also in v.41, Andrew reports to Simon that he has found the Messiah.
    In v. 43, Jesus finds Philip.
    In v. 45, Philip finds Nathaniel.
    Also in v. 45, Philip reports that they have found “him about whom Moses in the law and also the prophets wrote.”

    This implies that there was a profound amount of seeking. Johns disciples were seeking the Messiah, the fulfillment of the law and the prophets, but the Messiah — the Light — was also seeking them. It reminds me of the last line of Psalm 23, “Surely goodness and mercy shall pursue me all the days of my life.”

    Eurisko implies a deep sense of seeking.

    When we seek in darkness, it’s hard to tell what we are looking for,
    but when we seek in the light, we find and are found.

    A Colossians Twitter Mashup

    The Challenge:


    “I am now rejoicing in my sufferings for your sake, and in my flesh I am completing what is lacking in Christ’s afflictions for the sake of his body, that is, the church. [Col 1:24]”

    And the Response:

    While the life of Christ achieved tetelestai on the cross, the suffering of his body did not. The enduring afflictions that are left to the church act as a defining characteristic, lasting tension, through which we experience what Franz Wright calls Christ’s “appalling and incomprehensible mercy.

    46 words…

    Jesus, Mr. Rogers and the Role of Neighbor

    And the Word became flesh and lived among us, and we have seen his glory, the glory as of a Father’s only son.” Jn 1:14

    John, the evangelist, provides his reader with a deep sense of incarnational theology: Christ’s selfless abiding among his people. This was a radical worldview shifting idea, and still is. To this point, the deities sat removed from humanity, annoyed with humanity and only became god incarnate to meddle or get someone pregnant.

    This God on earth idea changed the way God’s relationship with humanity was represented from that point in history forward. God among us. God with us – Immanuel. God not meddling, not coercing, not abandoning.

    The Greek verb, skeinao, literally means “pitched a tabernacle tent.” The holy place got built next door. Eugene Peterson interpreted this passage, “The Word became flesh and moved into the neighborhood.”

    A less subtle understanding is that God became our neighbor.
    Even less so, we became his.
    This reminds me of Fred Rogers, changing his shoes, switching his sweater, looking into the camera asking, “Won’t you be my neighbor?” That was a request, a question. The power in the relationship was yours.

    This should transform the way we understand Jesus – as he said to an expert in the law: “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: ‘You shall love your neighbor as yourself.’ On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets [Mt 22:37-40].”

    How are these two commandments alike? They both share Jesus as their center.

    Jesus is the Lord that we love heart, soul and mind. He is also, our neighbor. Remember, he moved in next door? Recently I listened to a podcast and heard Peter Rollins describe MT 22 passage like this: “[sic] I’ve always thought about these two commandments like they were twins walking down the street. You can’t tell them apart. They are different, but we can’t tell the difference.”

    In the opening of John’s Gospel, the author locates Jesus not only in historical context, but also next door to you. The question of how to treat our neighbor is a dominant gospel theme. How we treat our neighbor (which the Greek renders ‘not you, but the other one’) has 50% share in the way our faith is lived. Remember the parable of the Good Samaritan? That story was told in response the question, “Who is my neighbor?” One could look at the entire ministry of Jesus as a ministry to neighbor.

    When a new family moves into your neighborhood, how do you respond? Do you receive them? Ignore them? Wait for them to come to you? Remember that verse in Hebrews? “Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers, for by doing that some have entertained angels without knowing it [13:2].”

  • Does this change how we view our neighbors?
  • Does love of neighbor (as though they were Jesus) make you feel uncomfortable?
  • Why?