Can We Trust God's Judgment?

Going to court is almost never a good thing, and my attorney friend had to do it regularly. He told me that his preparation for the trial always needed to be about the facts in the case, but he also needed to prep for what the judge might have for lunch that day.

The judge's mood might affect the verdict in the case.

That sounds strange to us because we hope that those who hold a position on the bench would be impartial and make wise judgments based on facts alone. But our history has shown that judges are just as fallible as any of us and an over-spicy Thai lunch could affect the way the judge thinks about the persons in a trial.

What if our way of life (or life itself) was in the hands of a judge who makes decisions based on his Pepto Bismol needing-gut?

When we think of God as a judge there may be a sense of dread or fear or foreboding that comes with that. "Father" is easier- even "King" is easier- but "Judge" is hard. It is easy to think of God's judgment as only being a gavel coming down hard to condemn and punish.

But the real reason why God being our judge is hard is because he gets the ultimate decision and he has the ultimate authority in our lives. What he decides stands. No court of appeals. His judgment is final.

If he has final say in all matters of our lives then we have to ask the question: "is he a good judge"? Is he a wise judge? Does he know what he’s doing? Is there anyway his judgment can be gracious?

When I comes down to it the question is: "are there enough facts about the heart of our Judge that we can trust him"?

Or does what he had for lunch change his mood and, therefore, the course in destiny of our lives?

Join us Sunday evening as we look into the heart of God as we read (and discuss) his Word together from James chapter 5 verses 1-11.

What we will find in God’s self-revelation is more than we expect of him and better than we would have imagined on our own.

Humble Ourselves How?

1 Peter 5:6–7

[6] Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time he may exalt you, [7] casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 

I want you to notice something. Peter (like James!) says "humble yourselves." That sounds great, but how?

The answer is in the text: "[by] casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you." No, the word "by" isn't in the original language, but the meaning is there in a way that doesn't translate well.

We humble ourselves by repenting of trying to fix our fears, carry our anxieties, and make up for our failures. The Father's invitation to humble ourselves is to focus our attention on how he cares for us in such a way that frees us to cast our cares on him...to let go of our striving and rest in his care.

That is one reason why we plan to gather Thursday to pray: to help each other cast our cares upon a Father whose shoulders are strong enough to carry the burden and whose arms are strong enough to carry us.

"Return to Me..."

Take a moment and stop. Don't try to get through this post fast. You may be like me and need to stop the feverish hurry, the insatiable desire to accomplish the next thing.

Stop right now and pray with me.

Take a deep breath. Don't search for the right words or try to stir up "spiritual" feelings. Just pray a simple prayer with me:

"I am Yours. All that is in me is yours. All that I possess is yours."

I would start wringing my hands, wondering if I meant it...or prayed "hard" enough for the Father to hear. He can hear. He wants to hear. He leans in to listen and can wade through the murkiness of our motives.

One more thing: read a passage with me. Here you go...

“Even now,” declares the Lord, “return to me with all your heart, with fasting and weeping and mourning.” Rend your heart and not your garments. Return to the Lord your God, for he is gracious and compassionate, slow to anger and abounding in love, and he relents from sending calamity. Joel 2:12-13 (NIV)

Would you read it again? This time out loud. This time, savoring the words.

Now, one more time, but only read until something arrests you. Stop there and don't move on. Ask the Father questions about it. Write it down and take it with you where you go today.

Let God's Spirit tend the soil of your soul to be ready for what he is going to plant from his Word.

Finally, would you pray for others? Someone or someones who the Lord brings to your attention. Just a simple prayer that the Spirit will have his good, pleasing, and perfect way with them.

We will be amazed at how He will take our puny efforts and make beautiful things out of the people that He loves.

"Rely On"

"We are going to sue you"

Those words grabbed my attention and for weeks it was as if my body was flooded with anxiety. I made a big mistake in that 7th grade class, trying to make others laugh. It went WAY too far, though, and I regretted it the moment she fell.

One of my classmates- an 8th grader- stood up. I decided on a whim to move her chair from its place- the chair that she was relying on to be there. I moved it knowing that she would expect it to be there. I moved it knowing she would probably fall.

I thought we would all laugh, but I was very wrong. She fell hard- and it hurt her. No one laughed.

Even as I type I feel a twinge of the guilt I felt that day as she tearfully went to the nurses' office. In some way I still wonder if she will make good on her promise of tracking me down to sue me.

She was relying on that chair to be there. She was ultimately okay, but it reminds me that there is a sense of risk in being around a 7th grade boy and risk in relying on anything. A chair. A financial investment. A loved one. We have a hard time relying on anything or anyone because we know deep down that they could possibly let us fall when we rely on them.

We still need someone to rely on though. We can't survive without trusting someone or something. It may be risky, but we do rely on someone.

It is usually ourselves. Sometimes it is out of fear ("I can't trust anyone again. They will only let me down...again.") Sometimes it is out of defiance ("If I rely on someone else it wont turn out the way I KNOW it should.") But, when we ultimately rely on ourselves and our way of thinking, we live a life of selfish, defiant, fear.

That is what we will focus on tomorrow night: we can rely on a trust-worthy Father. Our Father knows what we need. He knows we need to rely on him. He also knows that we don't want to. Maybe, we don't even have the ability to rely on him.

He also knows that he can prove our selfish fears wrong. He wants to show us that we can entrust those things that matter most to him...that he won't pull the chair out from under us like so many have in the past.

The War is Personal

Praying is personal. Praying is also warfare.

There is the real warfare against spiritual forces of evil who want to destroy our faith and keep other people from entrusting themselves to Jesus. (see Ephesians 6:10-12) But, what I mean is the very real warfare that is in our own souls. The personal warfare. The battle we face between our selfish desires and our desire to know God, personally.

When I feel that battle in me I go to Matthew 6. Right before Jesus gives us his model prayer ("Our Father who is in heaven...") he gives us a warning and a promise about praying:

Matthew 6:7–8: “And when you pray, do not heap up empty phrases as the Gentiles do, for they think that they will be heard for their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. "

Don't be like those who do not understand God as a good Father and try to use words to manipulate him to get what they want. As if he is fooled by our clever ways of speaking. Know that you have a good Father and a good Father who knows what you need.

As we meditate on the truth that we have a good Father who knows what we need (and even cares that we need it!) our God creates peace from the war within us. We don't need to fight for what we think we need when we know the Father gives what we really need.

On Being Present

John 20:21: Jesus said to them again, “Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.”

There is a reason that we decided to plant our lives among a certain group of people in a neighborhood. 

To be present.

At first it was about being "strategic," but that wore off pretty quickly. It is hard to be present. Really hard. It demands vulnerability. It demands being open even when I don't feel like being open. 

So "strategy" is slowly being reformed into "commitment." Commitment to people. Commitment to a place. Being rooted. Being present... and all of the joys and struggles that come with that.

I am ever-so-slowly beginning to understand why God wanted to come in the flesh. Yes, there was "strategy" in that Jesus came to live among us, eat our food, and be around the dinner table, but there was much more than just that. Jesus was sent to be present. Being present mean more than just "showing up." It means to be...how do I word this..."heart involved." All in. Committed to people.

Jesus came to demonstrate to us how God's heart is to be committed to relationship. That meant being there in the mundane and being there in the exciting.

Though I have so much to learn- and so often find how I just want to do my own thing rather than being connected to people- the truth is that the more we understand the heart of Jesus to be present with us, the more that we ourselves will want to be present with him and with those around us.

Even those who might drive us crazy or want to drive us out of their lives.

“There is no safe investment. To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything, and your heart will certainly be wrung and possibly be broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact, you must give your heart to no one, not even to an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements; lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket – safe, dark, motionless, airless – it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. The alternative to tragedy, or at least to the risk of tragedy, is damnation. The only place outside Heaven where you can be perfectly safe from all the dangers and perturbations of love is Hell.”
―C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves

Simple Church

Simple: plain, basic, or uncomplicated in form, nature, or design; without much decoration or ornamentation.

Picture something with me. Are you ready? Don't close your eyes because you won't be able to read on :)

Picture a pure stream coming off of a mountain. It is fed by melted snow and freshly fallen rain.

As it flows down, it picks up...stuff. All kinds of stuff. Dirt. Small pieces of rocks. Leaves. Animal, uh, leftovers.

As it flows down, it seems less clean. Probably something you don't want to drink. You might feel it later if you do drink it.

But, here is the thing, the water is still pure.

You might say "hmmm, Wes, you don't know what ‘pure’ means.” You might be right, but this is what I mean: the water itself is still pure. The H20 is still there, just mixed up with junk that isn't water.

Mixed in with all of the mess is the life-giving, pure water we thirst for.

The Church* is like that water. Two millennia have passed since the Spirit started his movement we call the Church (see Acts 2), the purity of what He is making is often mingled with sin-saturated selfishness. We muddy the waters with our desire for power, money, and prestige...all in Jesus' name. It becomes a muddy, undrinkable mess that many around us don't want to drink.

But, in the midst of the mess is the beauty of the Church Jesus died for. Simple. Pure. Uncomplicated.

My heart's desire is to explore who we (the Church) really are. What is pure, simple, and uncomplicated in Jesus' eyes. A Jesus-shaped, life-giving community that our friends and neighbors thirst for.

*The Church is all of the people who have trusted Jesus over all time, in every place and our church are one, local expression of the group that Jesus has set his heart on.

"Why This Waste?!"

And when the disciples saw it, they were indignant, saying “Why this waste? For this could have been sold for a large sum and given to the poor.” Matthew 26:8

I didn't realize the the disciples were so practical. In this scene a woman is pouring our expensive essential oils [sorry] on Jesus to honor him. Where she got it, we don't know, but we do know what the disciples thought of it: they thought she was wasteful. "It could go to a better purpose like...I don't know...the poor!" They were angry which, for some reason, surprises me.

To them it seemed like a waste, but to Jesus it was good, meaningful, appropriate. The ointment would have a practical purpose (to prepare Jesus for his burial) but, it had time to wear off. That must mean that the practical wasn't the main point.

The heart of the matter was the heart of the woman: she loved Jesus and would "waste" what was valuable to her to honor him.

For similar reasons we pray. We pray when we could act "practically" instead of waiting patiently ("This could have been sold...and given to the poor"). We pray when it seems like a waste of time, spiritual resources, and heart.

We pray because Jesus is worth "wasting" our effort on. He is honored when we pour ourselves out. He is pleased when we are bold enough to try.

We Do What We Believe

Matthew 16:23: But he turned and said to Peter, “Get behind me, Satan! You are a hindrance to me. For you are not setting your mind on the things of God, but on the things of man.”

I woke up this morning without a thought about what today represents. My “I will never forget” got lost in the checking off the “to-do” list of a typical Saturday morning. But, I do remember that Tuesday morning 20 years ago. I remember opening up my computer at home (when I should have been in class) and doing a double take at what I was reading in the news. Unreal. It was too big to take in. I remember asking the questions “What happened?” and “why did this happen?” and “who did this?” and “why did they do this?”

We know a little something about those people now. Though they have done nothing that should make us want to honor their memory, learning about their motivations might teach us something about ourselves.

We know that the people who hijacked the planes had a belief. We all have beliefs.

Though many of those men espoused the same religion, there was a force at work in them that was even deeper than the theology they followed. It is that same age-old search for power, honor, and meaning that will often drive people to be extreme: extremely short sighted and extremely unrealistic. Idealistic, but unloving. Intelligent, but unwise. And, by all accounts, merciless.

They spent their lives to destroy other’s lives.

Again, I do not want to honor their memory. Far from it. What I want to do is make the point that what we believe overflows into what we do. This is not merely about right doctrine. It is primarily about what- or better yet “who”- we rely on. 

What we set our heart on and who we rely on will shape the path of life we will live.

Just before Jesus rebuked Peter (above), Peter had boldly stated that Jesus is the Messiah. Jesus’ response was one of joy: “You are blessed Peter! You couldn’t know that yourself. The Father had to reveal that to you!” (My paraphrase) But, Peter still had other heart beliefs: the Messiah shouldn’t suffer. The Messiah can’t die.

Peter still didn’t “get” Jesus. Jesus had to push back on Peter so that Peter would no longer act out of his misguided beliefs. Peter, at that point, was will to act in similar ways to the men who hijacked those planes. He would fight for a cause- a noble cause to be sure!- but he would miss the heart of what Jesus wanted to do. Jesus did not come to instill fear in people that they might cower before his kingship, but to sacrifice his own power and honor that people might find meaning in him.

Jesus had to change Peter’s understanding of Himself so that Peter would follow Jesus’ way and not his own.

So that leaves us with a question to ponder: if it is true that we do what we believe, then what does authentic, mercy-filled faith…confidence…reliance…trust…belief in Jesus look like in real life? 

Join us as we gather tomorrow night and live out our faith in Jesus together, exploring what it means to simply trust the Suffering Servant whose own belief moved him to spend his life for those who live in fear AND (shockingly) those who cause the fear that we all might not live in terror, but in a full hearted trust.

"Cain't Nobody Tell Me Nothing"*

I walked into our living room yesterday morning and on the television is the Kidz Bop version of Old Town Road. Ugh. I've heard it too many times.

If you aren't familiar with the original, it is a creative song with an easy-to-get-into beat, and lyrics that no 9 year old should be memorizing by singing it. The Kidz Bop version keeps the beat and drops the sketchy words.

The chorus goes something like this:
Can't nobody tell me nothing, You can't tell me nothing
Can't nobody tell me nothing, You can't tell me nothing
(The country-fied twang changes "Can't" to "Cain't")

It isn't just the beat that is east to get into...its how close to our hearts the chorus gets. We don't have to be taught that attitude. It comes naturally, by default.

I read a tweet from a dad yesterday that expressed the human nature he sees in his son: "I love listening to my 16 year old playing the drums in the garage…do I need to go tell him to stop to make sure he keeps playing?"

We don't like being told what to do. Right or wrong, good or destructive, we want to do what we want to do.

Our king has a law. That is his right. He gets to tell us what’s good... and what we can do. But as a good Americans we push back on that. Maybe it isn't even about being an American. Maybe it is about being a human. We push back, even if what we push back on might be good for us.

We respond to the command as if our Father isn't loving merely because it is a command.

But what if what our God commands is also good for us? What if what is behind our pushback is an assumption that what our Kingly Father decrees isn’t good for us. What if we are unwilling to even give his words a chance?

*Sorry if it is in your head now. Honestly sorry. Maybe.

By Default

The default mode of the heart of every human being is to try to earn a place at God’s table. That is what we would do if we were left to ourselves and we weren’t paying attention to our own hearts.

Strangely, that is true of every human being. Even those human beings who haven’t yet surrendered themselves to trusting Jesus. Even those human beings who deny that there is a God who lovingly made them and wouldn’t give much thought to him. We have the double-minded ability to both defy God and make demands on him at the same time.

So, we human beings default to trying to work for our value and our place. We selfishly and slavishly spend our energy doing, doing, doing with the vain hope that it will earn us something…that we would finally be good enough, smart enough, and that (doggonit) someone would like us. Like us enough to give us a place at the table.

(Thanks for the wise words, Mr. Smalley)

So the clear commands of scripture seem to be the pathway to being accepted by God. If we do them, keep working, keep striving, keep sacrificing, then eventually we will have done enough to either earn a place at the table or be able to demand one. We become a human doing rather than the human being, defined by our actions and easily forgetting that God has bigger and deeper desires for us.

He is not primarily looking at the scope of our works the but the state of our hearts. He knows that all we do flows out of all of who we are, so he goes after our hearts. If he transforms our hearts to be like His Son’s heart then what will naturally follow (by default) is the kind of life his Son lived (lives!)

We are invited to trust the Father so our default more would be like the Son’s. The default mode of Jesus’ heart, always loving, and always knowing we are Beloved by the Father like he is.

"Living My Truth"

“Wes, Do you just WANT to believe?”

Sometimes I am startled at how different our not-yet-believing friends think than we do. Honestly, I don’t want to admit the difference. It is a lot of work to understand how another person perceives the world.

And work makes me tired.

Sitting outside of a fast food restaurant with my friend, he decided to drop the politeness and share what he really thinks about my trust in Jesus though one simple question. Essentially, he was asking “Wes, don’t you think you are just lying to yourself so that you don’t have to deal with the realities of life? Don’t you think you just want this Jesus stuff so badly that you have convinced yourself of it…even if it isn’t true?”

Sounds more like a statement than a question, right?

He hit on something we all tend to do: lie to ourselves. Find convenient lies that make us feel better about doing our selfish desires. But, those lies never hold up. Even if we push the truth deep down and ignore it, like that pea under all of those mattresses the princess slept on, it makes us anxious…keeps us squirming until we acknowledge it.

These kinds of lies are common to all people. Common and convenient. They are also corrosive to our soul that we are trying to protect.

My friend asked me a question. So I decided to answer him. (I don’t think he really wanted the answer, but he asked!) I said to him “Yes, I WANT to believe! I want to believe that Jesus is the truth. But, my desire has nothing to do with the Truth. Just because I want something to be a certain way it doesn’t mean that it actually is that way.”

Then I said the thing I hope is a “pea” to him: “Jesus is the Truth whether I want him to be or not, whether I like it or not. It is because he is the Ultimate Reality that I want my desires to get on board with him.” (Something like that, anyway. Probably goofier than that.)

James 1:16 starts with the phrase “Do not be deceived…” The Spirit is calling out to us through God’s word to pay attention to our desires that might lead us to lie to ourselves. But more than that, the Spirit is drawing us closer to Jesus so that we might be willing to have our corrosive lies exposed…so that we might find freedom in loving the Truth.

Out of Moderation

It is “common sense” to be moderate. No one wants to be compared with people who fly planes into buildings.

Common sense is a way of thinking that most people assume to be true. Common sense is what “everyone knows.” We don’t often question it because sometimes it is good. (“Good people don’t hurt other people.”) 

We live in a world of destructive extremes. We see unhinged people doing unhinged things in the name of their political philosophy, their “cause”, or their religion. We only need to watch the news to see over-zealous people using violence, and destruction, and political manipulation in order to further their “extremist” views.

It seems as if common sense tells us to stay moderate and fit in so that we will not be considered “extreme.” Just fit in. Be nice. You can be a Christian (if that works for you), but don’t go too deep into what you believe. If you actually take Jesus’ seriously then you might go off the deep end, be unhinged.

Jesus challenged the common sense of his day and he challenges the common sense of ours. 

Jesus’ kind of love is never meant to be moderate. Neither is love for Jesus. Is it possible that common sense is wrong? Maybe what the world needs is people who dive deeper into the deep end of the pool, not people who safely stay dry.

There is nothing moderate about Jesus’ love for people. If he showed the moderation that we often admire or aspire to, then he would have lived his life tucked away quietly in Nazareth, never challenging the “common sense” of the day or risking his safety in order to speak the truth in love.

A moderate love stays safe from a cross, but also stays safe from the joy of being immersed in the mission of the Father. It was not zealotry or unhingedness, or extremism that lead Jesus to his sacrificial death- it was the unreserved fullness of his love. It was his loved lived out for his Father and for people. 

Love is never moderate. Wise, yes. Smart, yes. Never moderate. Always lavish. Always abundant and never fearfully reserved.

Why do I write this? Because it relates to the passage we will talk about tomorrow night, but there is something more than that. My heart’s desire is that we would live a life of unreserved love, unhindered by the (selfish) moderation this world expects of us and free to find the deepest joy we can ever have this side of Eternity.

Jesus invites out of extremism and moderation. He invites us into his kind of love.

That's Not Where it Ends

“… When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.”-Dietrich Bonhoeffer

That’s an encouraging way to start, right? Now you might be thinking “This sounds depressing. Should I keep reading?”

If we stop there we miss the entire point…and the best part. We will miss the part that our hearts look for, long for.

Bonhoeffer was an early 20th century German pastor and theologian. He wrote those words during the rise of the Third Reich when the Nazis were seeking to gain more power in the country by pressuring influential Christians into joining the Nazi movement. There was great pressure to join the “winning” side (whether willingly or through coercion) and many of those influential Christians supported Hitler seeking political power and security. Many justified themselves by thinking that they could do more good by being in Berlin’s good favor than resisting the evil empire.

Bonhoeffer found Jesus more compelling than Hitler and resisted (leading others to resist with him)…all the way to his death in the Flossenburg concentration camp. What it meant to trust and follow Jesus in Germany in the 30’s and 40’s meant that a faith-filled person might have to stand firm while others are willingly giving in. For Bonhoeffer (and many, many others) to trust Jesus by following him meant losing their lives. It meant that they would “come and die.”

Bonhoeffer’s courage did not come from his own will. His words did not come from his own creativity. What he had came from Jesus’ invitation to relationship in passages like Luke 9:23: “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.”

If that were the whole story, though, it wouldn’t be enough. Not nearly enough.

Hear more of Jesus’ heart in the next verse: “For whoever would save his life will lose it [pause isn’t that what we are all trying to stay away from…loss? Keep reading…] but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.” I bolded the last part because it is so easy to read over, but it is crucial! 

The goal isn’t to revel in a martyr’s death, constantly being defeated, but proud that we sacrificed. No, Jesus’ invitation is to find the life we long for in following him, even if that means loss in the process.

Let me say that another way: Jesus’ invitation is to the fullest possible life with him even if that means that we may lose lesser loves.

Jesus calls us to come and die, yes. He calls us to his cross. He is clear about that. He is also clear that the cross is never the end. Behind every crucifixion is a resurrection that makes the loss more than worth it.

Bonhoeffer’s quote above is often quoted, but I don’t ever remember hearing someone quote the words right before “come and die”: “…the cross is not a terrible end to an otherwise god fearing and happy life, but it meets us at the beginning of our communion with Christ. When Christ calls a man, he bids him come and die.” 

The cross is not the goal. Communion with Jesus is. That is what Jesus said. That is what Jesus invites us to. No emotionally healthy person wants to suffer, but every sane person who understands the beautiful promise of communion with Jesus would follow him wherever he goes, at whatever cost.

This might be too long already for someone to read while trying to scour the internet for inspirational or interesting thoughts, but let me make one statement more before I finish this.

When Jesus calls us to lose our lives in order to find them that also includes our work. I might even say that it is primarily through our work that Jesus invites us to come and die. It starts in our attitude towards work and towards those we work among. What if Jesus calls us to come and die (and therefore find real life!) in the everyday, mundane, often mindless action of our work? It is possible that the reason why we have the work that we have is to picture for the people we work around how this promise of the “found life” causes us to treat people radically different than we are expected to treat them. The promise of a fuller, richer life compels us to lay down our lives for another rather than to step on them to try to find a better life.

Jesus’ invitation is to come and die, but dying is not the point. The point is to enter into the life we have always longed for, through the kind of death Jesus died. So many have looked at their own cross and turned away because the loss seemed too great. Jesus invites us to look through the cross to a life with him that makes the real pain and loss of our own cross seem like it didn’t seem like loss in comparison.

The cross is not where it ends. Keep reading, and swell with hope at the best part of Jesus’ invitation to come and die with him.

Meet Jesus at the Corner

“The place God calls you to is the place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.” Frederick Buechner

There are an estimated 7.8 billion people in the world. If some determined (crazy) person decided to count one person per second until they counted every living human on our planet right now it would take them 247+ years to do so. No sleeping, no eating, no vacations. Just counting. That breaks my brain to think about it.

Want to know something even more brain breaking? Every one of us thinks differently what matters to us. There are (at least) 7,800,000,000 differing ideas about what matters most in the world. Religions are built on asking questions about what matters most. Philosophers write essays in journals trying to clarify what they think has ultimate meaning. Scientists use the scientific method to ask questions and find what matters in the details of nature. All of us have some sort of thought about these things and all of us think at least somewhat differently. 

Whew. That is exhausting to think about. I think I need a break from trying to write this.

“How does this brain breaking way of thinking relate to our work?” you might ask.Thanks for asking. This is how: our work matters more and more when it relates more and more to what matters most. We all have our ideas of what matters most, but something somewhere has to matter most, right? More than our opinions or desires or preferences.

What if what matters most to the One who made us all, mattered most to us?

What if our work connected with what is on His heart, what he loves? What if we did, along with Jesus, what matters most to him?

Let me say it this way: our work matters most when we have Jesus’ heart in the way we do our work. I believe our work always matters, but it matters more and more as we relate to Jesus more and more and live out his heart more and more. Deeper. More meaningful. More life giving. More eternally focused.

You might wonder, “how can we know what matters to Jesus?” Here is the good news! He straight up tells us. No mysterious words. No cryptic statements. He shares his heart clearly and meaningfully. He shares his mission statement…where Jesus’ deep gladness and the world’s deep hunger meet.

Now the question is: how will we respond to what he says?

I know not all 7.8 billion people would agree with these things (see the second paragraph, above), but I want all 7.8 billion people to experience the goodness of it.

Hiding our Unrest

(reference Luke 14:1-6)

I would imagine that if I saw Jesus walking down the streets of my 1st century village without hearing news about him that he would not have caught my attention. He probably wasn't significantly taller than others that would make him an imposing figure. He probably didn't have leading man looks that made heads turn or a deep, resonant voice that made people want to listen to him.

In every way, he probably looked- I don't know- average. That seems to be the way God works: takes the lowly, the average, and the unnoticed to do powerful things that could never be credited to shallow attributes.

So when he came to sit down for dinner among religious rulers, I would guess they they felt a sense of relief when he came in the room. The relief of sizing up an opponent and seeing that your adversary isn't "all that." Maybe they thought: "This should be a quick win... It isn't even a fair fight."

But, Jesus didn't come to fight like they expected. He came to bring rest. It didn't matter if it was a "fair fight" because they weren't even playing the same game.

They wanted to expose the "lies" Jesus was telling to lead people astray. They wanted to tame Jesus or shame Jesus and blame Jesus so that they could keep their position of moral authority in people's eyes (especially their own).

Jesus didn't come to dinner to play that game. He didn't come to quarrel with their theology, but restore their heart. But, as is always the case, he had to start with what would disrupt the way they thought about themselves and expose their motives.

None of us wants to see what is really inside us. That's dangerous and uncomfortable. We are often satisfied (though scared) at the way we perceive ourselves...the way we hope we are. But, Jesus is too loving to let us deceive ourselves about our hearts and who we really are. He is willing to shine a light on what we might hide from others (and ourselves) in order to deal with the selfish unrest inside of us.

Jesus will lovingly expose what we want to hide so that we can find rest rest from our soul-wearying work of treasuring our sin. It is this type of love that either draws people to him in love or causes people to double-down on their unrest and work to rid their lives of him. The Pharisees in the story could have found rest and freedom in trusting Jesus, but chose a different way. The way that exposed what was really in their hearts: they wanted Jesus to die...and would work towards it.

Radiating Rest

In 1963 in Greenville, South Carolina the Fox Theater opened on a Sunday. On a Sunday! Scandalous, right?! For some the world was unraveling. Much of what they cared about was quickly being taken over by people who would rather go to the movies or buy alcohol or have their children in soccer games than take time for "sabbathing."

In their book, Resident Aliens, Stanley Hauerwas and William H. Willimon talk about how they saw the world changing when the Fox Theater defied the Blue Laws and opened on a Sunday evening. To the authors, it felt like freedom to go see a John Wayne moving picture. To many others, it felt like their values were lost in a movement they couldn't control...a movement away from something they considered "sacred."

We might snicker at Blue Laws. I wonder, though, if the reason that they went out of fashion was because they lost their meaning. Long before they were pushed back on and theaters openly resisted, the reason they existed was forgotten.

I am not advocating for a resurgence of Blue Laws (though some, surprisingly, are), but a resurgence of remembering the meaning behind them.

The purpose was to give people a chance to rest from their work. Now we have to compete with a day of rest. Now there’s no day on the calendar that is set aside to recover. We have to work to rest. Spend energy. Reshape our calendars...and our thinking.

With so many options to keep us busy and working and occupied is there room for rest? Is there room for Sabbath? The people sitting around with at the table with Jesus on the Sabbath had missed the point. Their hearts had loved the law itself rather than the meaning behind it.

Can we actually rest from our work so we can rest in our work? In that, is it possible to radiate Jesus' rest so that we can love the restless people around in a way that they would enter into Jesus rest along with us?

You are not what you produce. You are who the Father says you are. And, if you are in Christ, you are his beloved child.

Pause Here

Being busy is a badge of honor. Have you noticed that?

If we are busy we can scurry away from things that we don't want to face. If I am "busy" I have a reason not to confront that hard issue with a trusted friend. If I am busy I don't have to make time in my life for a new friendship. If I am busy I don't have to slow down enough to face the hard truth that I define myself by how much I accomplish.

I often just don't feel "right unless" I have a list of things to do...whether I am doing them or not.

What is also true about my busy-ness is that I use up too much adrenaline in pursuing some sort of work and rarely let my body rest. That striving after accomplishment is a tyrant we welcome to rule our souls.

Jesus invites us to rest from our work. He invites us to listen to him and find restoration in our weariness. He invites us to his table to meet with him, eat with him, laugh with him, and find that our soul is recreated in the process.

Sunday evening we will meet together to take a break from the busy-ness of all of our business. We will share his meal (Communion, the Lord's Supper) together while we recreate, rest, and remember.

Join us, not as something to add to your busy schedule, but as a time where we allow Jesus to do what he promised he would do in the midst of our work: he will give us his rest. (see Matthew 11:28-30)