Alton Sterling, Philando Castile, #BlackLivesMatter, and Being a White Man

I've gotta be honest about a few things regarding the police shooting African American men in Louisiana and Minnesota in the past two days:

1. I don't know that I should even be posting this...its really fresh for me. Part of me thinks that as a white Christ-following man that I just need to be quiet and "mourn with those who mourn." I have too often gone to Facebook or social media and said things before trying to empathize.

2. I am a white man. I can't imagine being an African American man and having to even consider that this nonsense is even a possibility. I can't imagine being a parent of an African American male and having to teach my son how to "safely" drive the speed limit and follow the laws or walk through a neighborhood and interact with police while having not broken the law. Not one scenario in this country exists where the current situation for African American men will ever be my situation. So I am not saying "I get it" or "That's my story too" -- it isn't and never will be. 

3. While I am a white man wrestling with whether or not to say anything, I feel I do have to say something: This has to stop. My heart is breaking for our country, our people, our broken-down system of "justice." I don't know what is the fix...broadly on a systematic level or even locally (where I am thankful for our chief of police, Ken Miller, and the bridges he is seeking to build)... 


4. In the scriptures, when something was broken and only God could intervene, the people put on sackcloth and dumped ashes on their head and just sat in silence and mourned and prayed. Today ought to be a day of intense mourning and crying out to God over what is broken. Just silence. (I accept that some will scream "Hypocrite!" for me writing that and throwing my voice into the conversation by calling for silence.)


5. Please, white friends, let's be careful not to soap box or grandstand and offer stupid statements that we tend to make about peripheral issues or comments that somehow "justify" the shootings. Just be quiet and pray and mourn. I'll make it simple; these should be our "talking points" this week: "I am sorry." "I don't understand." "This grieves God as much as it grieves us; it grieves him more." "I love you." "You better know I have your back" (or however you want to say that). 


6. Please do not offer to pray for someone if you aren't going to pray for them. In fact, where we'd offer an "I'll pray for you," please be bold and exchange that for a "Can I please pray for you right now?" You may think, How would I even know what to say? Ask them and then pray for what they share. And beyond that, just talk to God and bless him for all people and agree that he hates violence. 


7. Remember our common humanity. This isn't a white and brown issue or a cops versus citizens issue. This is the fruit of living in a broken world with an Enemy who wants to destroy people and drag their souls to hell. Find common ground. No kid should have to grow up without a dad because he was shot at a traffic stop. No wife should have to bury her husband so senselessly and tragically. No parent should have to bury their child. These are things we all agree on because these are emotions we feel as humans -- not just as white people or African Americans or whatever other race or gender or sexual preference or age or religion or whatever other label we like to slap on people to create some sense of "us" and "them." Let's build bridges of empathy rooted in our common humanity.


8. To my African American neighbors, friends, church members, brothers in ministry, and brothers and sisters in Christ, today know that I am so sorry -- profoundly sorry beyond words. Know that I know that I don't understand. I do believe that these all-too-common situations grieve our loving God. Please, please, please don't lose hope. With gracious and generous hearts, please allow white people like me, with all our sins and ignorance and inability to say the right things all the time, into your grief and teach us how to mourn with you and hope with you. Show us where and how we can serve and honor and have your back... And, finally, know that I love you.

Father's Day for Men without Fathers

Father's Day is a toughie for guys who didn't grow up in homes with a dad. I get it. My dad split when I was four. That was probably for the best as my only recollections of him living in our house are sad and unworthy of even being described in detail. The next 30 years of my life, our relationship would best be described as a rocky emotional roller-coaster ride. We had this awkward dance of me wanting to know my dad closely, him wanting to know me, him trying to figure out what that looked like as a man who never knew his own dad, him trying to have relationships while wrestling with demons of alcoholism and maybe even some self-hate, me probably coming on too strong while trying to hide pain and even misunderstanding, and both of us pulling away for seasons to hurt and to avoid being hurt. 

Father's Days were miserable. The unspoken pain between us was always the elephant in the room. So I always called and he always graciously answered. I'd usually mail a card that was shallow and ended with a punchline rather than tell a lie and buy a card that overstated or misstated our relationship. I couldn't figure out ways to honor my dad well and love him for who he was.

In saying all of that, I'm not trying to play the victim, and I am not trying to make a demon or a saint out of my dad. The past is past and has been a great teacher. My dad was a byproduct of not knowing his own dad; in fact, he was a great dad considering he had no real examples to follow and had been gripped by some demons of addictions long before he and my mom ever had children. Much of my jacked up thinking about my dad was my own inability to process things and carrying over and hanging on to in adulthood the thought patterns of a child rather than learning to think and feel like an adult.

So why do I write all of this? If my story is similar to yours in any way -- and especially if yours is still a story in process -- can I share some words of hope with you as one who, in many ways, has closed a chapter of my life with the passing of my dad in January 2014?

First off, if you had little or no relationship with your father, celebrate and honor the men in your life who acted like fathers. I assume you had and still have some men who showed you how a man ought to believe, live, love, and conduct himself in this life. For me, some of those men were saints I read about in books and longed to know but chose to learn from their example: Jim Elliot, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Billy Graham, and others. Others were men I knew and respected and even asked to lead me or teach me or pour into me: my grandfather, Onus Sanders; my pastors, Joe McDaniel and Denny Brinkman and others; Dennis Nix; Doug Nix; and my father-in-law, Warren Naylor and brother-in-law, Greg Jacobs. Great men who gave me nuggets of wisdom about being a dad, husband, godly man, servant, and leader -- some of them without ever realizing the impact they were having. I guarantee you had men in your life who play a similar role. And if you bear the scars of a broken or absent relationship with a dad, you will find a continued need for these men in your life. As a word of wisdom learned the hard way: Its not the job of these men to be your dad; its their role and privilege, if they choose to accept it, to be a coach and an example. Being our dad is not a job they signed up for or could ever fill.

Second, people always told me that God will be a Father to the fatherless. That made zero sense to me. I wanted God to be my Dad, but I couldn't have recognized a healthy relationship with a dad if it were handed to me on a silver platter. Here is what I have come to learn though: The best dads in this life only present a poor metaphor of the love of God. Further, we are fully loved by God the Father in Christ, signed and sealed with the Holy Spirit. This fierce, steady, relentless love is the love that sets us free. And when we experience that love well, we find that all other lesser loves can't fulfill in the same way. When we realize we are fully loved by God and our cups are full, we are free from the need to be loved. And then we find ourselves able to love and be loved without it saying anything about our worth or the worth of the other person, including our dads. God truly is the perfect Father, and knowing that freed me to love and be loved by my dad with no agenda. 

Third, if your dad is living and you are a follower of Jesus, honor your dad this Father's Day and every day in an authentic way. Refuse to talk bad about him or even to let evil thoughts about him take up residence in your heart or mind. Don't deny or minimize the past; don't sugarcoat the present; but don't forget the future. Just as we are thankful that we are a work in progress, let's remember that our dads are too. I am thankful that what God begins in a life, he always sees through to the end.

With that in mind, finally, remember that God always gets the last word. Six months before he died of a massive heart attack, my dad had this intuition that his days were drawing to a close. He put away alcohol, became sweeter with my stepmom again, began to genuinely mend broken relationships, started attending church and pursuing Jesus, happily put sin to death, and -- four hours before he died -- confessed Christ as his Savior. I can tell you that the goodness of the grace of God became more brilliant when compared to the sadness of the tragedy of human sin. Just like we can't experience Easter Sunday without Good Friday, we can't experience restoration without brokenness, a scar of testimony without a wound of pain. 

Don't give up hope. I hope for you that your relationship with your dad will become whole. I hope for your dad that he will come to Christ, become open to relationship, walk in intimacy with you. Just as much, I hope for you. I hope that you will know healing, peace, acceptance in the love of God (whether you ever experience the full love of your dad or not). Its never too late. God always gets the last word. 

And that, my friends, leads me to the last thing I will say: The greatest lesson my dad ever taught me was his last lesson... That grace wins and Jesus saves -- not because we are good but because he is good. "Happy Father's Day."  

Red Letter Revolution: Jesus on Freedom

Freedom. Just seeing it typed out puts two types of images in my mind that I think our culture associates with the word.

First, we have the whole William Wallace shouting for freedom while dying to gain independence for Scotland. Whether we identify with Wallace or not, this freedom from tyranny has its poster children through the centuries: the American founding fathers, Mahatma Gandhi, Martin Luther King, the young revolutionaries in China or Eastern Europe near the end of the 1980s as the Cold War was drawing to a close.

Second, however, we have the "freedom" that is on display narrowly at events like Woodstock in the 1960s and broadly in movements like the sexual revolution, the expanding casual drug culture, and thugs using social events to loot and create cultural chaos. This "freedom" is seen in old video footage from the 1960s -- casting off the idyllic and perhaps two-dimensional culture of the 1950s seen in the Cleavers and other television couples sleeping in two beds while making corny jokes to obvious laugh tracks. Its also seen in videos of chaotic spring break excursions, "Free the Weed" rallies, and in looting and rioting in the background as CNN reports about the aftermath of the latest senseless police shooting in Anytown, USA where such nonsense sadly occurs.

Freedom. Free to be and do something? Or free from something? Jesus talked about freedom. And Jesus was quite the revolutionary. So I believe that as we talk about freedom we ought to consider Jesus' words about freedom and the way he lived his life, beckoning people to a life of freedom in him.

In John 8, Jesus is talking with critics and doubters and makes this statement:

31 “If you abide in my word, you are truly my disciples, 32 and you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free...34 Truly, truly, I say to you, everyone who practices sin is a slave to sin. 35 The slave does not remain in the house forever; the son remains forever. 36 So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed."

Jesus says that freedom comes from knowing him, abiding in his word, and enjoying the freedom that he provides. So as Paul wrote in his letter to the churches in the region of Galatia, "It is for freedom that Christ has set you free; stand firm, therefore, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery" (Galatians 5:1). Freedom isn't being able to do whatever we want; freedom is knowing that we are governed by one who loves us, has our best interests at heart, would do anything to protect us, and wants us to live as free men and women. And our gracious God, because of Jesus, is that one.

Great governments, though all inherently flawed, are mere reflections of the idea of freedom that God offers us in Christ. Great families, though no family is "perfect," live in a freedom that can only come from knowing and abiding in Jesus. Great work places, where the employees are valued and business is done with integrity, operate best when the principle of freedom is modeled like the freedom Christians have in Christ.

So we are not free from authority, expectations, responsibilities. Not at all. Jesus is no "Buddy Christ" because he knows that "freedom from" any type of authority is death. Freedom from is actually anarchy. Its is saying, "I am responsible to no one and am the master of my own fate." A Christian can never say this and then tack on "...because of Jesus." Quite the opposite. The Christian is compelled to trust, surrender, and obey. The Christian is mastered by Jesus but then finds that Jesus is not seeking to be a master but a Friend and a Brother who has our best interests at heart and died to save us from the destruction that an anarchistic spirituality would bring us.

We are free in Jesus but not free to be or do whatever we want. We are free in Jesus from sin, condemnation, slavery, the wealth of awful emotions and consequences that come from unbridled rebellion, a certain and deserved eternity in Hell. We are free, but its not the kind of freedom that gets cheaply peddled around by those who want to live like practical atheists while tipping the cap to a weak Jesus of our own imagination.

The offer of freedom from Jesus in the Gospels was never a call to just believe and do nothing. The call to freedom involved leaving a life of sin for the adulterous woman, selling all he had for the rich young man, renouncing cheap religion for the woman at the well, leaving family for the man who wanted to bury his father, and stepping out of the boat and all that made sense for Peter in order to walk on the waves in freedom.

Jesus calls us to freedom. But please, don't mistake what that freedom really is...and don't underestimate what that freedom cost. A high price was paid for our salvation, and a high calling to live and believe and obey in trust ought to be our response. That's a revolution and never a casting off of restraint.

Red Letter Revolution: Jesus on Conflict and Reconciliation

For the past few weeks at Origins, we've been walking through a series called "Red Letter Revolution," modeled after the book by the same title by Shane Claiborne and Anthony Campolo. While Red Letter Revolution deals primarily with political and social issues, we've tried to narrow the conversation and deal with ground-level, day-to-day issues like marriage and divorce, parenting, loving other Christians, anger, judging, and more. And each week, we've examined only what Jesus, in the red letters, has to say on a given issue without watering down, jazzing up, adding to, or explaining away those teachings. This blog will be a second platform, this month, for sharing thoughts on some of the topics and teachings we won't get to in our Sunday Gatherings.

So concerning Jesus and conflict and reconciliation...

My family doesn't do conflict well. We probably never have. Growing up we believed that you grinned when offended and then either just got over it or shared your frustration with others, running the offender down behind his back, while never dealing with it. Our conflict style was represented well in The Big Bang Theory episode, "The Mommy Observation." While Sheldon Cooper is talking heatedly with his very Christian mom (who checks all the boxes for culture's stereotypes of evangelicals from Texas) about her sexual relationship with a friend, they're figuring out how to proceed in relationship, leading to this exchange:

Sheldon: Well, this is confusing for me. But I don’t want to stand in the way of your happiness. So, I’ll condemn you internally while maintaining an outward appearance of acceptance.  

Mrs Cooper: That is very Christian of you. 

We took it a step further, usually condemning you to others. Like Sheldon, we were "very Christian." Surely, we reasoned, Jesus wouldn't want us to fight out our differences. Or does he? In Matthew 18:15-20 talks about how his followers ought to "do" conflict with one another.

15 “If your brother sins against you, go and tell him his fault, between you and him alone. If he listens to you, you have gained your brother.16 But if he does not listen, take one or two others along with you, that every charge may be established by the evidence of two or three witnesses. 17 If he refuses to listen to them, tell it to the church. And if he refuses to listen even to the church, let him be to you as a Gentile and a tax collector.18 Truly, I say to you, whatever you bind on earth shall be bound in heaven, and whatever you loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. 19 Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. 20 For where two or three are gathered in my name, there am I among them.”

That passage doesn't describe my comfort zone when it comes to conflict. My conflict style is one dangerously bad approach to handling broken relationships. I'd rather smile and bite the bullet, blame myself, swallow it, and move on. I "take one for the team." We endanger two people, however, when we choose this path -- the offender and ourselves. We endanger the offender because he walks away while a wrong goes unpunished. We endanger ourselves because sin is poison, and in swallowing another's sin and leaving it unresolved, we are absorbing poison. More on that in a moment.

A second bad approach to handling broken relationships between Christians involves speaking too much, or being too easily offended. Jesus says, "If your brother sins against you..." We must be careful to distinguish between sin and being inconvenienced or having our preferences disregarded. Sin is missing the mark against God, as it relates to worshiping him and living with one another in this world; inconvenience and being disregarded or disrespected are missing the mark against us. Sin is wronging the Lord; inconvenience and being disregarded or disrespected involve another wronging us. This bad approach chooses to nitpick and always be looking for a "tough conversation" where something forgettable and seemingly insignificant has to be addressed, dealt with, and resolved. When sin is clearly not the case, we need to grow thicker skin, forgive as we have been forgiven, and remember that we are not the ones who occupy the throne of the universe. 

So how do we do conflict, according to Jesus? 

• Decide if we have been sinned against by our brother or sister. Examine the situation and decide whether, intentionally or unintentionally, the offender has wronged God by wronging us. If you're not sure, go to Scripture and check your situation against what God calls sin. If the answer is no, we should ask the Holy Spirit to help us let it go, move on, and love as God has loved us in Christ.
• If we have been sinned against, without swallowing it and without telling another soul, we are to go to the offending brother or sister and let him or her know what has occurred. We don't need to build a coalition, and we don't need an ally to go with us. We just go. And we share honestly. If, like me, this feels unnatural, soak that situation in prayer and ask God's Spirit to fill you up before you go and address it.
• In the moment of confrontation, we state clearly what has happened. State. It. Clearly. "I want you to know I love you and care about you but you sinned against me when you _____, and I want us to make things right." After all, we are family; Jesus is talking about a brother (or sister) who sins against us. Don't minimize. Don't shoulder the blame that's not yours to shoulder. Don't be unclear. Mincing words only ushers in confusion rather than the healing that comes from repentance after feeling the sting of sin's effects.

Hopefully, this is Game Over. They repent. We forgive. We hug. Restoration occurs. We have "gained our brother" because in going through the awkwardness of biblical conflict we watch restoration occur between another person and God and between ourselves as family in Christ. 

But in the event that the person is defiant about sin or denies, negates, or further minimizes the hurt, Jesus gives us Step B in the process. 

• Take one or two others with you. Be careful who you invite into the process. Don't welcome into this holy moment of potential healing one who is divisive, rejoices in wrong, or has an axe to grind. Bring holy healers, followers of Jesus who love the Gospel so much that they want to see it embodied in the way we relate to each other. Bring a person who will pray during the conflict more than cheer for you.
• For the second time, we state clearly what has happened. State. It. Clearly. "I want you to know I love you and care about you but you sinned against me when you _____, and I want us to make things right." Continuing, "In fact, I brought _____ and _____ because I didn't get the impression last time that you understood the gravity of what's at stake here." Repeat: Don't minimize. Don't shoulder the blame that's not yours to shoulder. Don't be unclear. Don't mince words. 

Hopefully, this is now Game Over. Repentance. Forgiveness. Hugging. Restoration. We pray that in the presence of the one offended and a couple of others, healing occurs. 

But in the event that the person still refuses to change, to turn from sin to Christ, Jesus gives us Step C in the process. Steps A, B, and C would be what Jesus calls "church discipline." Sadly, however, many mistakenly think of church discipline as Step C. Further and even more tragically, many churches historically have moved too quickly to Step C without trying Steps A and B or after "attempting" Steps A and B in an unbiblical way. Its sheep pushing wandering sheep over the cliff rather than inviting back into the flock, into the Good Shepherd's protection.

Step C is like a funeral. In telling the church of sin and an unrepentant Christ-follower, the church grieves but surrenders the offender to the Lord, having attempted to do all they can to turn the believer back to Christ. In surrendering that person to the Lord and treating him or her as "a Gentile and a tax collector," we are acknowledging that God loves him or her, that God will have to draw him or her in love through conviction of sin, that we have done all we can, and that he or she is living and believing as one who is a "they." Ultimately the unrepentant believer has little in common with the church. Which demands that, as the church, we are walking in love and in step with the Spirit. Otherwise, our call to repent and surrendering the offender over to God has no "teeth."

We rarely do conflict and reconciliation God's way. Its easier and more justifying to do it our way. Character assassination and lobbing grenades from a distance are less messy than going one-on-one to the one who who sins against us. Yet conflict that honors Christ occurs this way.

So in a red-letter revolution, I want to vow to Christ to live differently. And I want to ask you to do so as well. Our lives and relationships would be so much less cluttered if we kept healthy accounts of loving, encouraging, praying for, challenging, serving, and blessing one another rather than constantly over-drafting and bankrupting relationships by doing conflict in a way that is displeasing to Jesus. 

Inter-Generational Christian Community

Not the most exciting blog title, I know. "Inter-Generational Christian Community." But here is the point: Our current community group is the most diverse I've ever been part of. And I haven't known how to maximize the strength of our diversity. 

Let's face it. For most us, we spend our community discipleship existence in age-divided silos. Elementary age children are with kids of the same ages or grades. Middle and high school years are full of small groups of other awkward, raging-hormone-afflicted teenagers. College is accompanied for many by parachurch ministries like Young Life, Campus Crusade, or similar others. And for the first 11 years of our marriage, Natalie and I have been in or led small groups -- what we call Community Groups at Origins -- of mostly people in their 20s and early 30s. Birds of a feather...

And its great because everyone is basically dealing with the same stuff as those they are "sharing life" with. In elementary school its about obeying parents and not being a bully as we are taught to trust Jesus. In middle and high school its about having a quiet time each day and avoiding the perils of sex, drugs, and rock n' roll as we are taught to trust Jesus. In college its about choosing the right major, career, and mate as we are taught to trust Jesus. And then in our young adult lives its about charting the course of our lives and being more "cool" as parents or as a couple than our parents were...as we are taught to trust Jesus. Obviously I'm being sarcastic and over-simplistic. But we get the point: Our discipleship journey is made to be lived in community with other followers of Jesus, and usually we group up or are grouped up based on our age or stage of life.

Until this year. Natalie and I are in our early and late thirties, respectively, with two sons, ages 6 and 3. Teresa, our neighbor, is a young empty nester who is seeking to walk with Jesus in community but is unable to worship in a church on Sunday because of work commitments. Cathy, our friend, is an empty nester also who was nervous about being in community with "kids" (like Natalie and I and many in our church) and wondered what the group would think of her and her non-attending husband who doesn't follow Jesus. Hal is a young twenty-something graphic designer who attends our group as well as a couple of others with folks his age. And then there's Ken and Judy, with their amazing daughters, Jessie, Lacey, and Alice, who are ages 22, 17, and 13. So we have two not yet 10, two in their teens, two in their twenties, two in their thirties, three in their forties, and one in her fifties. No one is really coming from the same place as it concerns age, life stage, background, church history, or anything else. And I have done a poor job of leveraging the diversity of our group.

How does the diversity of our group become the strength of our group, particularly when most of us are used to a silo approach of dividing people into groups simply based on age? How can our differences, which feel quite vast to me at times, bring us together and make us more like Jesus? Why have I seen this situation as a place where I am not a great leader rather than as a place where God can show up and teach us about unity in diversity? 

A couple of observations:

• Our greatest identity marker, as Christians, is Christ. "Christ-follower" or "Christian" becomes the noun, and all other identifiers become merely adjectives. So we are no longer old or young, white or any other color, poor or rich, married or unmarried people who also happen to follow Jesus. Rather we are old or young Christians, white or black or Asian or Hispanic Christians, poor or rich Christians, married or unmarried Christians. Only my relationship with God can carry the full weight of my identity; every other marker must bow a knee to Jesus and his saving grace. So Paul wrote in Galatians 3 that in the Church there aren't racial, economic, and social divisions but all of us are in Christ and Christ is in all of us. We are family, despite our outward differences. So despite our ages and life stages, as a community group of Jesus followers, we have the main thing in common. 
• Our greatest differences never have to get the final say. What makes us different will tear us apart or bring us together. (Cue a clip from Remember the Titans, Hoosiers, Bad News Bears, or any other host of sports movies as case in point.) How any small group responds to obstacles says a ton about the value they think the group has for our individual relationship with Jesus. If we fight through the differences for community and to all become more like Jesus, we are saying that it matters. If we get up and sit quietly because we think there's nothing to be gained, then we are saying the group can't teach us anything and that we have nothing to offer such a diverse group of people.
• Further, the things that make us similar to one another can end up making us less like Jesus because we cease to or come up short of connecting around the Gospel and end up connecting around other things...and compared to the surpassing worth of knowing Jesus, those "other" things are always lesser things. Our silo approach may make us more comfortable with each other, seducing us into believing we are becoming disciples in community when we are really just an unchanged or unmoved gathering of friends answering some questions about Jesus or the Bible. 
• How do we leverage our differences? What does the 13 year-old have to offer the soon-to-be 50 year-old? When you and I can accept that the Spirit in us is the same Spirit in that young teenager, then we understand that we all have something to offer and to receive in community. Each of us has a word to be given and to be received, and our various ages and stages give a perspective that others do not have. What is obvious to a 25 year-old may be confounding to this 38 year-old. And what is plain-as-day truth to the 17 year-old may be unclear to the 55 year-old. We need each other's perspectives because we all have blind spots, and God gives us the church (and our little community groups) to lovingly speak to us about what we do not naturally see as we follow Jesus. 

So I've wrestled with how to make our group great. And the question I want to ask as we read the Bible together or pray together or eat caramel-drenched popcorn and catch up on the week together is, "How do you see this?" Or, "Is there something you see or think or feel or believe that I am not seeing here?" These ten diverse perspectives (I'm excluding my kids...they're just watching Transformers Rescue Bots on Netflix and eating sweets mostly -- both subjects they've mastered, by the way), give us ten different angles to see an opportunity, a prayer request, a confusing scripture, or a major -- or minor -- life decision. Ten different eyes looking at a blind spot from ten different sets of life experiences, educational or professional resumes, faith journeys, and more.

So here's to you Alice, Lacey, Jessie, Hal, Natalie, Teresa, Judy, Ken, and Cathy. Thank you for this new season of faith and community. I pray we spur one another on to love and good deeds in Christ, in community. 

Happy Birthday to My Brother

Today is my little brother's birthday. No one actually thinks he's younger -- based on all of his gray hair and sage-like wisdom -- but I am, in fact, 4 years and 2 days older than him and have got a mental scrapbook full of great memories of him. 

I remember "roughhousing" and playing violent games of tackle football meets rugby in our living room as kids. I remember eating fast so I could be sure to get the second helping or last serving of breakfast or dinner. I remember one time when we decided to play a trick on Mom by throwing all of the towels, wash cloths, and hand towels into the bathtub with us. (For the record, this was the dumbest decision we ever made as kids -- no dinner for us and an inordinate amount of work for an already overworked and under-appreciated single mom.) I remember watching in wonder as he could hit a whiffle ball as far as I could with that big red plastic bat in my grandpa's front yard. I remember the first time he beat me in a fight; that was the day I decided we would make much better friends than enemies.

But I don't want to celebrate the past. The guy my brother has become far outshines the guy he was growing up. I figured as a teenager that he'd either be a pro ballplayer or a truck driver. He's long-since flown by that career trajectory. And character trajectory.

Jason and Katie and Hunter are God's grace in our lives. One of a million ways we see and experience God's grace. 

• God has used Jason in my life to remind me that the way things are is not the way they will forever be, that we can laugh in the face of brokenness because we know that pain never gets the last word
• God has used Jason in my life to remind me to see the best in others, hope for the best in others, and to work to bring out the best in others
• God has used Jason in my life to teach me that cheering for others' success and seeing others flourish says a ton about how much I love them; if I am jealous or petty when others do well, then I really was only in love with myself and what another person could do for me. Love is completely uninhibited and is compelled to celebrate when someone we love wins or gets 
• God has used Jason in my life to show me that we have much more to laugh about or share a bottle of Coke or a Krispy Kreme doughnut over than we do to cry about
• God taught me scores of life and faith lessons through the wisdom of a man named Jon Randles, but he's taught me from Jason and Katie what it looks like for that wisdom to be lived out in day to day life
• God has used Jason and Katie to show me that God is the Potter, people are clay, and that the Potter is constantly molding us and shaping us and using experiences, relationships, scripture, and others' wisdom to do so; if we don't feel the touch of the Potter or the discomfort, at times, of his shaping us, then maybe we should examine whether or not his hand is on our lives or if we've moved off the potter's wheel
• God has used Jason to teach me that we need to cry more freely and genuinely than we do, that tears don't show weakness but compassion, love, strength, humility and other characteristics of the heart of God
• God has used Katie, our sister in-law for over 11 years now, to help us see grace and goodness in simple pleasures like the right flavor of Blow Pops, a good blanket, and YouTube videos of others humiliating themselves
• God has used Hunter, my soon-to-be three year-old nephew, to teach me that resilience and a can-do attitude can unhinge any closet door, relocate any pack and play, and do many other challenging tasks when we put our minds to it
• Hunter has also been grace to us with his big hugs and generous tender heart; the world would be better if we were all so unreserved in our affection toward those we love
• God has used Jason and Katie to teach me that character, principle, integrity, love for God and people, and especially hospitality are worth sacrificing for and fighting for; they only ever serve the finest of food when you come over to their house because even the meals they prepare say a ton about who they are and what people and relationships mean to them
• God has used Jason to teach me what Jesus was like in his storytelling. Whether its a lesson from building a counter top to a story about a baseball game, there's always a greater story, the greatest Story, in the stories he tells; I hope I can come to live with eyes so wide open

So here's to my brother Jason on his 34th birthday. My prayer is that the next 366 days are as good to him as he is to others and that God will give him more good moments, laughs, surprises than he has hairs on his back. 

The tragedy of the flooding in South Carolina this weekend affects us all. Each of us is moved by the images and stories whenever something tragic occurs, but it hits home even more when it happens so close to home. The message I was scheduled to preach Sunday -- with no consideration of the weather event that would affect us -- was about the storms of life and how we both prepare for and respond to them. Christ-followers and "nons" are all affected in tragedy, and these moments provide opportunity for the church to rise up. 

In response, I want to say a couple of things about the flooding and how it has affected Origins and will affect Origins.

First, Origins will respond. We are talking with contacts in Columbia as well as with leadership in South Carolina Disaster Relief (this is the Southern Baptist organization that serves the state or abroad in the wake of any natural disaster). They are telling us that until the flood waters recede later this week, they can not assess need. As soon as Matthew and I know what the needs are, we will make a move. Until then, pray. Pray for healing, hope, less damage than expected, and for people to come to faith in Christ in the middle of tragedy and loss. As Origins responds, we will respond in:

• Prayer. Take time this week in your CG to pray specifically for people in our state who are affected and are grieving, disoriented, feeling hopeless, and suffering catastrophic loss. Pray also for those who will serve them. Pray that the Church will rise to the occasion and serve those who are hurting. 
• Give. When we know where to best give financially, Origins will give and we will receive a love offering (hopefully, over and above our givers' regular financial contributions) to help those affected. We ask that you wait to give until we can all give together. Because of Gospel partnership, we have already heard from Jason Shine and our church plants in Edmonton that they want to give financially to Origins to help in the effort.
• Go. Disaster Relief will respond soon, and one of our best men in Origins, Jim Whitworth, will likely deploy to serve in an area of need. We will commission him as one sent on mission when he goes. (This serves as a great reminder to our men and women to go through Disaster Relief training when its offered to be able to go and serve.) We are also talking with some partners about sending small teams of people who aren't trained for Disaster Relief in the days ahead and will keep you posted on that. (Jason Shine may also come and serve alongside us with this effort.)

Second, concerning giving in Origins. Losing a Sunday -- particularly a first Sunday -- puts the church in an interesting financial position. We are praying that your offering that many of you give on the first Sunday of each month will be brought on the second Sunday of this month. You guys are a generous church, and the mission we participate in locally, in our state and nation, and around the world couldn't happen without your regular, generous, joyful, and sacrificial giving. Please don't fail to give this month as we know God is going to call us to sacrifice to help the hurting in addition to our regular ministry expenses.

Third, thank you to the Community Group leaders who spread the word about Origins not meeting yesterday for Sunday Gathering. While most churches in Greenville met for worship, we felt that the South Carolina Emergency Management Division's statewide request to keep people off the road was one that we needed to honor. We were torn. But we trust that in staying home maybe you prayed, spent time in the Word, worshiped, ate a good meal, or took a nice nap -- all of which are acts of worship to Jesus when done with grateful hearts for his grace and love. Please plan to come this Sunday, October 11, to Origins with hearts ready to worship Jesus and pray for our brothers and sisters in our state and around the world.

Finally, know that its a privilege to pastor you that Matthew and I do not take lightly. We love you. We are so grateful to lead a faith family where people seek to love Jesus in all aspects of life each day of every week rather than just for one hour on Sunday morning. This tragedy has reminded me that God is with us in the flood waters (Isaiah 42) and that these moments provide a chance for the body of Christ, the Church, to step up and be Jesus with skin on to a watching world. 

Inmates, Convicts, and Christians: The Christian Code of Conduct

Jim Whitworth is one of our older men in Origins. He is a constant source of encouragement, help, and perspective to me and to others in our faith family because he's been down the roads that many of us younger guys are currently traveling. By profession and calling, Jim also serves as a pastor and chaplain at Perry Correctional Institute here in the Upstate. The other day, he and I were talking about life behind the wires and walls of prison. Specifically we were talking about the differences between the terms "inmate" and "convict." He was making a greater point, though it took me a moment to connect the dots. So I've asked him to put his words down for me to pass them along:

My call to serve in the prison system of South Carolina began 40 years ago as a Correctional Officer at the state's oldest and largest prison for adult males, the Central Correctional Institution (CCI). I have spent most of my adult life in prison, at least as a career path.  When I worked “down the tunnel” at CCI ("tunnel" was a term used inside to refer to the long hallway connecting the cafeteria, hospital, school, wards and buildings with cells), many of the men made a clear distinction between being an inmate or a convict.   The term "inmate" was a new term at the time (coming out of the prison reform of the 1960s) and was seen as something being imposed by administration and security.  As such, the prevalent attitude and/or sentiment of incarcerated individuals was that if you identified yourself as an inmate then you were perceived as someone who had more allegiance to the people in charge than you did to those with whom you lived.  A "con" (short for convict), on the other hand, was someone who would not snitch to the authorities.  That meant that there was a “code of conduct” that a man followed to be considered one or the other.  Generally, an inmate may be more concerned with South Carolina Department of Corrections (SCDC) rules, but a convict could be trusted by other cons.

How do you see yourself, and how do you define who and/or what you are?  We all have certain ways of looking at ourselves and at others.  We usually make decisions about others based on how they act, what they do, what they say and so on, but we judge ourselves based on our intentions rather than our actions.

What about the Christian Code of Conduct?

When the Apostle Paul wrote to Titus, a Gentile follower of Christ who was leading the church in Crete, some of the members of the church were struggling with proper Christian behavior.  As we read Titus 2:11-15, we can see that Paul challenged the believers not to give in to ungodly behavior and worldly standards.  Ungodliness can describe any behavior that is disobedient to God's ways and Jesus' teachings. Lust means giving in to any kind of sinful desire -- not just sexual sins.  Paul instructs Titus and all Christians not to give in but to pursue sober living, righteousness and godliness in everything! In this passage in Titus, "sober" was used to mean self-control, seriousness, and sound moral judgment. These are qualities that God desires in those who follow Him and are to be part of our Christian Code of Conduct. The difficult and tricky part is that we have to do all this in the broken and sin-filled world in which we live.

Who or what are you? Would you consider yourself to be an inmate, convict, or Christian?

Pray that we all strive to have a right relationship with our Heavenly Father each and every day, acting accordingly so that others see Jesus in us.

Where are your loyalties? For those followers of Jesus at Perry, they can be loyal to other residents, to the powers-that-be, or to Jesus. If they are loyal first and foremost to Jesus, much of the other stuff will work itself out. For you and I, we make a decision every day to pledge allegiance to a kingdom -- maybe the kingdom of self, of being happy, of pleasing others, of gaining more stuff, of being religious, or hopefully we pledge our allegiance to Jesus. Whichever kingdom we serve comes with expectations. Every other "king" is ultimately a horrible ruler; Jesus alone is a gracious, self-sacrificing King. He always has our best interests at heart. So when we commit our lives to him, abide in his Kingdom, pledge allegiance to him, and trust his "code of conduct," we can know we are in a safe place. 

"Lord, you alone are my portion and my cup; you make my lot secure.

The boundary lines have fallen for me in pleasant places; 

surely I have a delightful inheritance." Psalm 16:5-6

"For freedom Christ has set us free; 

stand firm therefore, and do not submit again to a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1 

As We Grow Together, Origins...

The last few weeks have been pretty unparalleled as we've gathered together, Origins family. An electricity is filling the room -- the presence and power of the Holy Spirit are obvious. New people are showing up week after week; people who have been coming and "flirting with" Origins are now calling Origins their faith family as they put down roots. New songs are being written and sung. We've seen God's provision and your generosity like we never have before. I've only experienced something like this once or twice ever in ministry.

I pray you're experiencing it. When God moves like this, its often contagious. In the midst of it, let me quickly share a few things you can do that would be really helpful.

1. Keep personally walking with Jesus. Keep SOAPing in the Bible, spending time in prayer, living in the power and joy of the Holy Spirit. Don't let what God is doing among us corporately ever be an excuse for not allowing God to do something in you personally.
2. Commit to a Community Group. Starting the week of September 7, CGs will relaunch and we want everyone in a group and committed to the idea that we are better together than we are individually. Be there weekly, encourage each other, pray for the people in the group, invite new folks, bring dessert, make the group a success. And to be clear, "success" is found in groups where everyone is following Jesus, being changed by Jesus, and committed to the mission of Jesus. 
3. Go after the ONE. Jesus tells the story in Luke 15 of a shepherd leaving 99 sheep in a safe place to go after the wandering, endangered lost sheep. If you know of a lost sheep -- a person who is struggling, wandering, disconnected, alone -- go get them and bring them back to the family. Pray for them and go find them. Let's continue to refuse to celebrate how many sheep we gather but to pursue those Jesus is pursuing in love. 
4. Serve on Sundays. We need weekly help with set-up, tech, kids, greeting folks at the door, making sure people get children to the correct areas, parking, and tear-down. If you're interested in helping, let us know. Don't be a consumer constantly; serve Jesus by serving others.
5. Give up a seat. You may need to relocate yourself some Sunday so that people can have a seat, especially if you sit on the wing near the sound board on in the middle section. Guests don't want to sit on the front row, and latecomers don't want to walk in front of everyone to go to the seats near the window. Make life easier and move to those seats...and if need be someday, stand and let others sit.
6. Ask someone new to sit with you. For most people, nothing is more uncomfortable and nerve-wracking than going into a room full of new people, especially in a church. If you see someone you don't know, take that as God's prompting to get to know them. I noticed Sunday a couple of visitors came early but no one spoke to them before worship. After worship was over, though, I noticed a couple of people speaking with them. I thanked them for coming, and they told me they'd be back because it was a great experience. I believe that personal connection afterwards made all the difference. This isn't marketing the church; this is compassion and kindness that are the fruit of the Spirit.
7. Ask someone new to lunch or coffee. Don't just be friendly; rather, be a friend. This next step is a big deal. When you have coffee or a meal, ask questions about the other person's story. Get to know them and encourage them. 
8. Sing. As Frances shared so powerfully yesterday, David danced with all his might before the Lord. Worship with all your might when we gather on Sundays. How you worship is a great witness to a watching world. It tells that Jesus is alive, that our sin is forgiven, that we have hope and joy in this life and in the life to come. Be unafraid to be "undignified," as David said in 2 Samuel 6. Sing, pray, clap, listen, give, greet with all your might. Then when you leave our gathering, live, work, love, rest, and celebrate with all your might. Live worshiping.
9. Listen and Obey. Whatever God says, be willing. Eric and Anissa, our missionary partners in Sweden said it so well. They told God that whatever he asked of them, the answer would be yes. Whatever God asks you to do, settle the issue ahead of time that you will boldly trust and obey. 

I wish there were 10 but I only have 9. There you go. Historically certain signs have marked any revival or awakening among God's people. Can I share some of them with you?

• Overwhelming sense corporately of God's presence, holiness, and majesty
• Conviction of sin and turning from it to walk by faith in holiness in the power of the Holy Spirit
• Increase in numbers attending, giving their life to Jesus, being baptized, and taking steps of faith to grow in relationship with God
• Powerful preaching and powerful worship with people responding powerfully
• New songs and new expressions of creativity to glorify God
• Generosity of heart and stewardship of all aspects of life under the understanding that God owns it all
• Relentless reliance on the Lord to maintain the revival spirit and provide the next steps

I pray God is doing something that I have never seen him do in my lifetime. I pray we get to be part of it. I see several of these marks present in Origins today. I can't control how everyone else responds; neither can you. I can lean into Jesus, allowing his Spirit to have full control of my life, trusting him and obeying, and praying and expecting God to do great things in Greenville in us and through us. 

Eddie's Testimony: Watching Your Kid Go to Kindergarten

Its easy to believe that community -- Christian community -- occurs because we meet in a living room for dessert or at a cookout and talk about the Bible in some academic way that is divorced from reality. That is not community, however. Really, Christian community is coming together (sometimes over different mediums) and talking about Jesus and how the Gospel is playing out in the ways we love God, one another, and our city. 

Our Community Group leader for the past year was Eddie Holland. He and his wife Misty have two girls, Alera and Ralen. The following is an email he sent to everyone in the group about the challenge of sending Alera off to kindergarten next week, the challenges of loving and raising children in a way that honors the Lord, and how parenting is a metaphor for the love that our Father God has for us. Natalie and I read his email and were profoundly moved -- both at the content (as parents who also are about to send our oldest, Noah, to kindergarten) and at the vulnerability and community that vulnerability created. So below are Eddie's words.

Hey Friends,

 

Yesterday I sent an email out with an update about our community group. And in the email, I made the statement, “As the summer draws to an end that usually means one thing: the school year is upon us.  And this year is no different.”  Well, I actually lied. 

 

This year is completely and totally different.  The reason this year is different is because my baby girl (Alera) starts Kindergarten.  Now, I know that millions of parents just like me have sent their oldest child to Kindergarten and lived to tell about it.  I know that the child survived the first day and eventually even enjoyed school.  I know that this is just another “first” in my child’s life and I should embrace it. 

 

I know all those things.  But I can’t help but “feel” like I’m losing a small part of my child.  Our innocent, naïve, sheltered, timid, shy, dependent little girl will venture into a world all by herself (well, not exactly “ALL by herself."  There will be teachers, administrators, and staff there but you know what I mean).  She’ll begin to establish her independence, to understand life without “Mommy and Daddy,” to understand that there’s life outside the little bubble that I’ve (we’ve) created for her.  She’ll make new friends, play new games, and learn new things.  She’ll come home after being around other 5-year olds and realize that playing with her two-year old sister is “different.”  She’ll soon learn that her little sister is incapable of carrying on a conversation or playing games like her classmates.  And all that is good.  I deeply and sincerely want that for my daughter.  She deserves it.

 

So why is this so hard on me?  I’m not exactly sure.  Part of it is that I’m scared of releasing my daughter to the world.  I’m scared that I haven’t done enough these past 5 years to prepare her for a cruel and sometimes unfair world.  I’m scared that her sweet innocence will be taken advantage of by some “mean girl” or “bully.”  I’ve been reminding myself that Alera is simply a gift from God; a precious creature that was created by God and is ultimately on loan to us from God.  The fears that I have are probably natural but certainly unnecessary.  After all, if I claim to believe in God, I must acknowledge that He loves my child more than I do.  Alera’s middle name is Lael, which is Hebrew for “belonging to God.”  The irony is that my current lack of faith causes me to question something I readily acknowledged over 5 years ago when my daughter was born.

 

Part of the reason Alera starting Kindergarten is so hard on me is that I realize how much Ralen will miss “Sissy.”  Those two are practically inseparable right now and it is so cute to watch.  Seeing your two children play well together and enjoy each other’s company (most of the time) is a sweet, gratifying, and soul-pleasing gift that only a parent of multiple children can understand. 

 

Part of it is that I realize she will no longer be under the care of Misty all day.  I’ve said (mostly in jest) that since the day Alera was born, I took a back seat on my wife’s priority train.  Misty has devoted her entire heart and soul into raising our children, and I’m eternally grateful for that.  Words cannot describe the peace, comfort, and joy I derive each morning as I drive to work knowing that my two kids are in the care, custody, and control of the only person on this planet that loves them as much as I do.

 

Part of it is that I can’t believe how fast these past 5 years have flown by.  I look back and realize that there were seasons of my life where I allowed other things to take precedence over my responsibilities as a father.  These things, which include my career, my extracurricular activities, our finances, or just my selfish desires, seemed much more important during that season of my life than they do now.  A prayer that I’ve been constantly praying the last few months and asking God to remind me persistently comes from Psalm 90:12.  It says “Teach us to number our days that we may gain a heart of wisdom.”  My prayer is that each of us, whether we have younger children, older children, or no children, will learn to number our days, cherish the things that matter most, and rid ourselves of the things that rob our time, energy, and attention.  I fail at this more than I like to admit, but I’m thankful for God’s grace and pray for His strength in this area of my life.

 

But the thing that is most difficult for me to handle is the reality that my little girl is growing up.  I can’t help but look back over the past 5 years and think, “Where has it gone?”  Where has the newborn gone that literally took my breath away the first moment I laid eyes on her?  Where has the infant gone that used to stare up at me with amazement and wonder in her eyes as I sang/talked/whispered to her while changing her diaper?  Where has the “crawler” gone that loved to explore by opening every cabinet drawer in our house?  Where has the “walker” gone that used to give me a heart attack every time she fell?  Where has the toddler gone that learned the word “No” and insisted on using it incessantly?  Where has the child gone that had to learn at the ripe old age of 3, when she became a big sister, that the world no longer revolved solely around her?  The reality is that she hasn’t “gone” anywhere.  She’s simply grown into a beautiful and sweet little girl. 

 

And I thank God for that. I thank God for allowing me to be her “Daddy,” for giving me the responsibility to raise her in a Christian home, to teach her about love and forgiveness and charity and compassion, to show her discipline and the difference between right and wrong.  But most of all, I thank God for revealing Himself to me through my oldest daughter.

 

I have often said that the entire length of Misty’s first pregnancy was a sort of 9 ½ month spiritual pilgrimage for me.  The whole concept of pregnancy, the idea that Misty and I were able to create something so much bigger than either of us, was impossible for me to understand.  It deepened and strengthened my faith and belief in God, knowing that only He could create such a marvelous way of introducing life into this world.  Watching our “baby” grow in my wife’s stomach for 9 ½ months was one of the greatest joys of my life.  Misty’s labor was/is a blur to me (I’m sure it was/is for her as well).  But the moment my daughter was born is not a blur.  It is crystal clear.  That image is seared into my mind forever.  Seeing my daughter enter this world, take her first breath, and open her eyes for the first time absolutely took my breath away.  At that moment, I truly understood love at first sight.  I understood what it meant to love something/someone so unconditionally that it literally hurt my heart.  I understood what sacrifice and commitment and joy meant.  I understood what the love of a parent felt like.  For the first time in my life, I loved something more than myself.  For the first time in my life, I understood (in a small way) the love that God has for me (and you).  And as crazy as it may sound to you, I felt God’s love and presence in that delivery room in a thick, tangible, and ethereal way.

 

After Alera was born, I remember trying to compose myself long enough to go tell our families that mommy and baby were both doing well.  But I literally couldn’t do it.  It took me what seemed like hours to finally stop crying long enough to walk into the waiting room and tell our families the good news (and her name since we were one of those mean couples that withheld the name until birth).  I walked through the doors to the waiting room, announced the name, hugged my father, and literally sobbed in his arms.  I was so overwhelmed by that moment, the culmination of 9 ½ months (from conception to birth).  It was my way of connecting with my father; my way of showing him my understanding of the love he had for me.  At that moment, I finally understood a father’s love. 

 

I said that the whole 9 ½ month pregnancy was a spiritual pilgrimage for me.  Before Misty became pregnant, I had begun to slowly drift from my faith.  I had more questions than answers, more concerns than beliefs, more confusion than clarity.  But Alera’s birth really brought everything home for me.  I felt that her birth was the culmination of a sort of spiritual awakening in me.  At that moment, I truly understood my Heavenly Father’s love for me.  But at that same moment, I was in awe of God’s sacrificial love.  The sacrificial love that God showed me (each of us, really) by sending his Son to die for our sins, to become the sacrificial lamb, the propitiation for our sins was unbelievable to me.  That God would send his only Son to die a cruel death at the hands of an angry mob for me.  That God would listen to his Son cry out for Him as He’s hanging on a tree dying and yet disregard those cries so that the mission could be accomplished.  That God so loved the world that He gave his one and only Son so that whoever believes in Him will not perish but have everlasting life.  That was a love I just couldn’t understand.  That was a love I just couldn’t wrap my head around.  That is truly a Father’s Love.

 

So, as my family embarks on this new journey, I ask for your prayers.  I am genuinely, sincerely, and thoroughly struggling with this milestone (case in point--it has taken me two hours to write this stupid email because I can’t stop crying.  My boss has lost two hours of productivity from me today).

 

However, I also ask for your faith.  Faith in a God that loves us in ways we can’t imagine or understand.  I pray that each of us will grow in our faith as we continue our individual spiritual pilgrimage. 

 

And lastly, I ask for your gratitude.  Gratitude in a God that meets us where we are, knows the hurts and joys of our hearts, and loves us too much to leave us unchanged. 

 

Thanks for letting me share.  This email has been a catharsis for me.  I would have preferred to share this in person but I wouldn’t have been able to without crying.

I'm thankful for Eddie's wisdom, honesty, and perspective and confess that I don't have much more to add to it on this subject. For those who struggle with watching your little ones grow up and with wanting to take advantage of every precious moment, I hope Eddie's words are an encouragement and challenge to you as they have been to me.