Life-Charged Words

Every year, at about this time, I receive an invitation to stand behind the podium at the Men's Interdenominational Prayer Breakfast in Zephyrhills and share what's on my heart. The experience is always a blessing because, while the good folk of Zephyrhills may well be the most senior group I speak to, they also happen to be among the most enthusiastic, the most responsive, and the most faithful.

My rough cell-phone picture (below) is just a slice of the room. The organizers counted heads and reported a record attendance. Fifty-eight Zephyrhillians (if that's a word), came together for fellowship, encouragement, prayer and - hopefully - a good word from yours truly.

Early on in my speaking career, when I looked at my upcoming commitments, I used to worry that I might repeat a story or an illustration I'd used before. Then I realized two truths:

• First - and more likely with some audiences than others - odds are no-one would remember what I said last time anyway!
• Then - and this is an exciting realization - God is working in my life constantly, graciously willing to teach me new things every day ("New every morning is his love..."). If I'm paying attention, if I'm growing in my faith, and if I spend enough time on my knees, then there's always going to be a fresh testimony to share.

The point - of course - is to pay attention.

What I did this morning was to begin to build my emphasis for 2011. I've been thinking specifically about my work in encouraging men's ministry, and I'm starting to hone a new message, something that will in all probability become the skeletal outline for a new book.

I offered my Zephyrhills friends the first five of what I'm calling "Ten Life-Charged Words". Ideas like "passion", "capacity", "clear vision" and "Jesus." I'll be sharing some selected glimpses into this project over the next few months.

Stay tuned. There's going to be a lot to talk about!
- DEREK

Who's Up To Teaching The World How To Love?

The reason people kill one-another is sin. Sin feeds on hate, violence, fear, retribution, anger, hostility, bitterness, and unforgiveness...

Much has already been written about the shocking violence in Arizona this weekend. By Monday there will have been discussions in church, pointed sermons, on-line rants, AM radio finger-pointing, and cable talk-show analysis ad-nauseam.

Everybody wants to weigh in when there's tragedy of this scale in the news. Many people talk even when they have nothing helpful to contribute. As Christians, we're supposed to have something useful to offer; something in the realm of hope.

I couldn't help but notice the fact that - in an act of measured brutality so horrific it defies description  - over 20 people were murdered in Mexico at around the same time.

Here's what I think... I don't believe we can talk about the Arizona killings without talking about what's happening in Mexico (and the rest of the planet) in the same breath. It's are all the same thing. Bloodshed in the Middle East, assassinations, "honor" killings, terrorism, even capital punishment. There's too much of death in this deeply broken world.

I'm concerned that we have lost our imagination when it comes to dealing with violence. It seems to me that we're becoming more and more inclined to "fight fire with fire"as a knee-jerk response. I just don't like the track record of that kind of intervention.

I remember an incident when I was a school teacher, working with behavior-disordered children. One week "Kevin" was at odds with everyone, and he made poor choices across the board several days in a row. Friday, unwilling to let the week finish without following through as promised, I invited his parents in for a conference.

"Kevin started two fights yesterday," I said. "He kicked a smaller child in the stomach, he turned over his desk, and he cursed at me repeatedly."

Kevin's dad took a quick step toward his son, let loose a torrent of ripe invective, and smacked Kevin in the side of the face.

Sometimes I think that's as far as we're willing to go anymore. "Don't act that way or we'll beat you up." "Hey, you blow us up and we'll blow you up more!" "You think you're bad? Wait till you see our new weapon..."

Violence is not the solution if we want to end bloodshed. Retaliation always leads to escalation. Tit for tat inevitably leads to more of the same.

"So are you going to let them walk all over you?' is neither an intelligent observation nor does it contribute anything to the long-term resolution of what in the world is behind violence on this planet.

The reason people kill one-another is sin. Sin feeds on hate, violence, fear, retribution, anger, hostility, bitterness, and unforgiveness.

Listen, if Jesus had pulled out a sword and killed the High Priests and the others trying to put him to death, then evil would have prevailed, period.

The Gospel has something constructive to say here and it needs to be shouted from the rooftops. I've quoted this before, quite recently I think, but the concept bears repeating. "In this world we are like Jesus. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." (John 4)

If we can't/won't teach the world how to love, then what are we doing? Seriously, it's a good question. We need to take a leadership role vis-à-vis what it means to love out loud. Gospel quality love.

• Blood spilled over a sidewalk in Tucson, Arizona. 
• Body parts dumped in public places in Mexico. 
• Love is the only antidote to fear. 
• God is love. 
• Love came down at Christmas and stayed around long enough to face down death and fear.

We need to learn to live love more eloquently; more convincingly; more effectively. We need to love more like Jesus.

Best Christmas Pageant Ever (to date)

One of the great privileges of being married to the preacher is being able to tag along when she does anything official... Like opening the pre-school Christmas pageant with prayer Thursday evening.

Wow, what a hoot (I'm talking about the program, not the prayer!). We have a collection of the most adorable children you could ever hope to run into at a church pre-school event.

I think the experience was especially poignant in light of yesterday's (widely read) post about hate-based religion. These pre-schoolers were/are all about Jesus. When Jesus infiltrates even the hokey-pokey (see below) then you know you're in the presence of holiness. And by "holiness" I mean beings directly connected to the mind and the love and the intention of God.

The highlight of the evening was their enthusiastic interpretation of The Hokey-Pokey. "You give yourself to Jesus and you turn your heart around; that's what it's all about. Give... your heart to Jesus. Give... your heart to Jesus. Give... your heart to Jesus. That's what it's all about!"

That really is what it's all about! The idea of connecting ourselves to the mind and love and the intention of God is all about turning our hearts around. That's what the word repent means. A one hundred eighty degree turn. About face. New direction.

These kids get it on a heart level. They may not be old enough to deal with abstract theological concepts and to swallow doctrinal mumbo-jumbo. But they're astute enough to understand that God loves them.

Sometimes I worry that we, as grown-ups, keep our distance from God because we're afraid that we'll do the hokey-pokey and God will turn our hearts around. We're scared of the raw emotional truth of redemption. We're not about to give up any of the control we worked so hard to achieve for so long - and at such great cost.

So how's that working for you? You know, the control thing? Why not risk God?

Ask the kids. They know. Ask Rebekah - look at the picture - she talks with the two's, three's and four's about it all the time.

Christmas Joy - DEREK

Communion around the table

I'm not sure if having a "favorite holy day" is the best way to put this, but - at least for the time being - Thursday of Holy Week ranks right up there for me; it's certainly as one of the most meaningful.

The official name for today is "Maundy Thursday"; and I can see right off that my spell check system has no clue about "Maundy", so it's going to continue to underline the word, in red, until I adjust the system protocol.

Unlike my computer's editing function, a lot of us don't even underline this day. Instead we let it slide by, unengaged. I believe that is a huge omission.

Maundy Thursday is wonderful, tragic, encouraging and difficult - all at the same time. It's wonderful because that's the day Jesus and his friends got together for one last meal. It's difficult because it's also the night Jesus was betrayed. Events had moved a long way from the high excitement of Palm Sunday and the big parade.

I like to think about Jesus and his friends reclining around the table. It's obvious that they all loved one-another. And my guess is that, despite restrictive social rules that invented inequities that God never would have imagined yet alone sanctioned, the gathering around that table included both men and women.

I'd also like to imagine complete honesty, sharing from

the deepest places of their souls, humility and vulnerability. Yet I'm well aware that other restrictions, the ones that we continue to impose on ourselves, likely kept even this group of friends from allowing themselves to be known beyond the extent of their ability to manage the spin.

I hope I'm wrong about that. Because it's in the presence of Jesus that the most complete freedom we can experience is made possible. In fact, the presence of Jesus calls from us far more than we otherwise have the capacity to offer; maybe that's why we leave him out of the conversation so often...?

so, this evening our church will gather in the fellowship hall to not only commemorate the Last Supper, but to partake of it as well. We'll be meeting in small groups, eating together at round tables that seat eight people. And then we'll stay right where we are - an elder assigned to each table - for a service of communion and worship.

My experience has been consistent at these events. (Picture: "communion" with the Dave Andrews family) Communion starts in the conversations we enjoy around the tables during the meal. We break bread together; we share our lives; we talk about what is on our hearts; we laugh and sometimes we cry. Then, when the bread and the wine are passed, we simply formalize the deeply spiritual experience we're already sharing.

Tonight I have the privilege of speaking for a few minutes, along with three others who have been asked to let a little of what is on their hearts spill over, so the whole church can be encouraged by our stories.

So, what is your Easter story? Do you have a small group where you can share what God's up to in your life and receive the encouragement we all need? Are you part of a faith-community where your journey is affirmed and your relationship with God renewed? Do your joy, your struggle, your tears and your honest doubt have a spiritual home?

Or, to simplify the question, is there a table you can come to, hosted by a Savior who will welcome?