Cutting Down the Nets

March Madness is a fantastic time of the year. Thrilling games, wild upsets, Cinderella stories. So many things to love.

And one of the things I love best is the tradition of cutting down the nets. It happens at the end of each conference tournament with the winning team cutting down the nets, claiming victory and marching forward, guaranteed, to the NCAA Tournament. It happens at the end of each regional final, with the victorious team cutting down the nets, claiming victory and marching forward to the Final Four. And it happens at the end of the tournament, claiming victory and marking the end of the accomplishment.

But think about what else it does: it transforms the net from something useful to something destroyed. Sure, it's a great sign of victory, but it's also a sign saying "we've done all we can here, now we need to move forward. We can celebrate this victory, but we can't just dwell on it forever."

A couple of weeks back at jOURney, we talked about Philipians 3, and how Paul lists some of his great accomplishments and calls them basically trash. And I got to thinking last night, that the cutting down of nets is a great analogy to our accomplishment list that is similar (but pales in comparison) to Paul.

I'd never say that what we've done and what we've accomplished is completely worthless. It's great to have memories and to learn and grow. But we can't keep standing on the ground of what we won/accomplished/did/learned/etc. That will never move us forward.

By "cutting down our nets", we get to celebrate an accomplishment in the moment, but we also get a reminder that we need to move forward. We're left with a personal trophy that won't mean much to anyone else, but it's a reminder of success we had in the past that will help us in the future. But we can't just throw that old net back up there, because it won't work anymore. We have to rely on our faith and the talents God has given us to move forward, not the stockpile of trophies.

(And Trevor, can you believe it ... it's been weeks and I still remember this teaching? Amazing, isn't it?)

Square Peg, Triangular Hole

I think the phrase square peg, round hole is overused.

I mean, think about it. If you look at something square, you know it doesn't match something round. They're fairly different things. It's pretty much common sense to know they don't match up.

But think about a square peg and a triangular hole. If you twist a square around, and you look at only one part of it, you could probably convince yourself that it could fit in the triangular hole. Until you try to push it through there and have to deal with the rest of it.

But, when you think about it, trying to fit in that triangular hole is something that sounds pretty good. After all, most people are doing the same thing: showing only a part of themselves, and so they look triangular, too, just like you. And, in a lot of cases, the triangle they're showing you matches your triangle, so you fit in. They're just like you.

And so, many times, we walk around, acting like the triangle we're projecting is the sum of us. Even though we project different triangles to different people. We act like our triangles aren't making up a larger square.

But I'm done with that.

I'm not ashamed to admit that I'm made up of some very different triangles. And I don't want to push my square through a triangle mold and act like it's all I got. I want to take all of me to every situation I'm in.

And, hey, if I can do it as a bleeding heart conservative, why can't you?

A Dangerous Item

And so the real question is ...

if you had a "Saturday Button" (that is a button that when you press it it instantly becomes Saturday), how often would you press it?

Lost in Jesus

I know, a lot of churches and/or attendees of lots of different churches think they have the best worship band in the world. Or at least, best amateur worship band.

I would disagree with all of them, unless they are referring to jOURney. We have the best worship band in the world. Amateur or not. David Crowder and Chris Tomlin listen to R. C. Foshizzle for inspiration.

Last night they were on like nothing else. I found myself lost in Jesus and lost in worship as they played. It's an amazing feeling, being lost like that. And not a mindless lost, but somehow being totally aware of everything around you, and yet totally focused on one thing.

If you're too far from Findlay to actually check out Journey yourself and hear our awesome band, I'd encourage you to buy their first CD. "Lives of Grace" is an amazing song, and "Stoop a Little" has also become one of my favorites. Maybe you'll find your own favorite. They're only ten bucks. And the proceeds to go AIDS relief in Africa, including Blood:Water Mission, one of my favorite charities. And, I bet if you ask nicely, R. C. Foshizzle would even autograph your copy.

Reason #1138 Why I Love My Church

Because, seriously, would your church enhance the experience of those attending service by having a strobe light in use during communion?

I highly doubt it.

One day, when money is able to flow more freely for us, we'll have to gift a strobe light to church for nights like this.

The Great Misunderstanding

There seems to be something that gets lost in translation when an imperfect people (that's all of us, folks) try to represent a perfect being, and explain what and why He is.

There seems to be something that gets lost in translation when people with an agenda (that's all of us, folks) try to explain what exactly a being that is 100% love expects and wants from us.

Ryan asked a question tonight at jOURney. I'm not going to quote it exactly, but I'm going to try my best to capture what I believe was the intent. He wanted to know (in the context of Acts 11), how to respond when God asks us to do something that is outside of our norm. When we've spent years doing things a certain way, and then suddenly, God asks us to change.

How can we know it's really God? How can we know that a change is needed? Why wouldn't God have stopped us before if he wanted it a different way?

My thoughts are that the truth is, we have a misunderstanding of God. And we've thought he was a certain way. That his way lead to a certain stance. And when we start to see Him more clearly, more perfectly, more accurately, we have a need, a desire, to change the way we've done something.

Maybe that change is to be more accepting. Or perhaps it's to be less accepting. I've known people on both ends of that spectrum who claim to be representing the almighty. Hell, I've been on both ends of the spectrum, on both parts of reception!

Maybe that change is to accept that we're just sinners, and that's how it is, and we can't be perfect. Or maybe that change is to accept that we need to strive to live for more than just sin and mediocrity. Again, I've lived both ends of that spectrum.

Maybe that change is to listen more, and advise less. Or to advise more, and listen less. Or maybe that change is to ponder less and act more, or act more and ponder less. Or so many things, that upon reflection, I almost feel bipolar, or at least spiritually bipolar.

Maybe I've just reached a place on my journey where I don't need to focus on the destination, because I know it. But I need to focus on the journey towards it. And because of that, I reflect on the path I've taken so far, and I'm afraid I've misrepresented God so often, and over corrected so often, that I just hunger to find the right spot, and I'm not even certain that spot exists.

Or maybe ... maybe faith is about maybe. True faith is about accepting maybe, and understanding that we'll never understand in certainty. And that the great misunderstanding, is that we can understand it all.

Widowed by the Church

So, last week at jOURney, we looked at Acts chapter six. We looked at how the early church took care of their widows, and we asked who the modern day widows are that we need to look after. I suggested those who have been "widowed by the Church". Those people who no longer feel welcome as a part of the body of believers because of an action, inaction, attitude, or words of someone acting (knowingly or not) as a representative of the Church and of Jesus.

This week, we looked at Acts chapter seven. We looked at the final speech of Stephen's life, and Trevor asked "why do bad things happen to good people". This seems to be a common theological question debated ... well, probably since before Moses. More specifically, he asked us to ponder why certain people die at times where it seems as if they had more to offer, more to give, more ... life.

One suggestion offered is the answer that "we're all deserving of death, no one is really that good". Before I continue, let me say that I understand the theology behind this. Romans, we are all sinners, worthy of death, no one is good, etc. I get the theology.

But this line of thinking is exactly how someone becomes a "widow of the Church".

It's perhaps the easiest way to get someone there.

Think about it. A young woman just lost her husband in a car accident. A mother lost her 22-year old son at war. A two-year old loses a battle with cancer.

And the people affected, The young widow, the hurting mom, the confused family ... they go to the Church, or to someone who represents Jesus, and they ask them about their tragedy. It could be as simple as "why", or "how could a 'loving' God allow this to happen", or any form variant.

And imagine the reaction you get when you answer the question with "everyone deserves to die. no one is actually a good person. we all sin. want to pray and accept Jesus as your savior?"

Now, I can't speak for you, but I would not want to be associated with the person who gave me that response at all. And I certainly wouldn't want to worship the same God they do, nor would I want to hold on to the hope they hold on to. Anyone who ever associated themselves with that "Jesus" would always bring back bad memories, and possibly even repulse me. This person has effectively been widowed by the Church, no longer feeling welcome, or loved.

(As a tangent, do people with this point of view feel hypocritical when they talk about abortion? My experience teaches me that most folks with the above point of view, where we all just deserve to die because God is perfect and we sin, are also anti-abortion. But, if that living being that is a fetus is just a sinner (original sin, right?), then what tragedy is there if it dies? It's just there to die, so there's no tragedy right?)

Are we (and I'm including myself here, I know I've said dumb, hurtful things in the past, and done so when representing Jesus) so ignorant as to never realize the impact of our words to a hurting person, to a person in need, to a person we are to love? Are we unaware of how we widow people away from us?

The flood of emotion I get from this sort of behavior and thinking is a wide range. There's anger, confusion, embarrassment, and so many others. Why do we get so focused on the eternal, that we lose sight of the here and now. Why do we get so focused on "winning people for Jesus", that we lose sight of loving them. And not just loving them because Jesus says to, but loving them because that's what they need, and what we'd want if we were them.

I'm rambling now ... hard to do when you're typing and not talking, but I'm doing it. So, I guess I'll cut this off now, but might add another post on it later.

The Gamaliel Principle

So, last night at Journey we were discussing Acts chapter 5. And there's a lot of weird stuff in there, and there's some good nuggets of info, too. I was exhausted from another marathon weekend away from home, so I didn't get to share thoughts at Journey, so i figure I'll share them here, as I know at least a few of the people who attend church with us also read my blog.

What really stands out is what Ryan refers to as the "Gamaliel Principle" (at least I think that's the terminology he used). The NASB records the passage thusly:

But a Pharisee named Gamaliel, a teacher of the Law, respected by all the people, stood up in the Council and gave orders to put the men outside for a short time. And he said to them, "Men of Israel, take care what you propose to do with these men. For some time ago Theudas rose up, claiming to be somebody, and a group of about four hundred men joined up with him. But he was killed, and all who followed him were dispersed and came to nothing.After this man, Judas of Galilee rose up in the days of the census and drew away some people after him; he too perished, and all those who followed him were scattered.So in the present case, I say to you, stay away from these men and let them alone, for if this plan or action is of men, it will be overthrown; but if it is of God, you will not be able to overthrow them; or else you may even be found fighting against God."

Now, we always are encouraged by Ryan and Trevor to look for the implication of a passage in our lives, rather than just the application.

And maybe I'm just oversimplifying things. Or maybe I'm too big a part of the television generation. But I see the implication here pretty plain as day.

The name of my blog is taken from a Nike campaign. The implication I see in the Gamaliel Principle is taken from an earlier Nike campaign.

Just Do it.

Is it not obvious that if God is calling us to action, we need to just do it? If we're unsure if it's God, and we don't act, these are the outcomes:

1) It really was God, and it should have been done, and we really missed the boat.
2) It wasn't God, and nothing at all has changed.

If we're unsure if it's god and we do act, these are the outcomes:

1) It really is God, and there is nothing to be done to stop us from accomplishing it.
2) It really isn't God, and no matter how hard we try it won't work.

So the best case scenario from not doing it is pretty much the same thing as the worst case scenario from doing it: nothing changes. So, perhaps the best way to decide if the prompting within us is from God or from us is to try, and see if it works. Seems like the Gamaliel Principle to me.

just do it

What is Enough?

So ... there's a song that I used to sing quite often. I still sing it quite often, to be honest. I'm just not sure if I've ever sung it with a true heart. You've probably heard of it.

All of You
Is more than enough for
All of me
For every hope
And every need
You satisfy me
With Your love
And all I have in You
Is more than enough

Seems simple enough.

Tonight, Rachel and I attended the Ellery concert at Journey.

There was a (indirect) challenge given. Is it "enough" to have a "faith" that if we pray hard enough, God will change the situation? Regardless of whatever we do. If someone is sick, or lonely, or living in poverty, or trapped in any of a wide assortment of challenges life throws at us that God never really intended us to have, can we really get by and do "enough" without getting our hands dirty?

Have I been singing that God is enough, but only because I don't want to be part of the solution? Is He enough for me because I'm not waiting for someone to "get dirty" to help out? Because he's not placing me in situations to get dirtier than I want to get?

I honestly, honestly think I can find my answer in the book of James:

What good is it, my brothers, if a man claims to have faith but has no deeds? Can such faith save him? Suppose a brother or sister is without clothes and daily food. If one of you says to him, "Go, I wish you well; keep warm and well fed," but does nothing about his physical needs, what good is it? In the same way, faith by itself, if it is not accompanied by action, is dead.

But someone will say, "You have faith; I have deeds."
Show me your faith without deeds, and I will show you my faith by what I do.

Here is my prayer:

God,

Strengthen me to show others than You are enough for them.
Embolden me to represent you.
Empower me to fulfill promises you have made.
Keep me steadfast to my word.

Amen.

Meet me there

And now for something completely different ...

After a couple of half-serious posts, I thought I might post something serious, with a reflection from Journey a few weeks back ...

Let's say you and a friend are at your house, and you decide to go somewhere else. The friend says to you "you go on ahead, and I'll meet you there." So you both leave your house, and you take a path to your destination. Your friend is not beside you on that path. Are you mad at him? Of course not. The intention was to meet you there, not be at your side for every step along the way.

Yet, do we sometimes find ourselves in a similar situation with God, and get mad at him for only wanting to meet us at a destination, rather than walking every step of the way with us?

A couple of weeks back at Journey, we looked at the first half of Luke chapter 10. It opens by saying (NASB):

Now after this the Lord appointed seventy others, and sent them in pairs ahead of Him to every city and place where He Himself was going to come.

The Lord did not set out with them. He sent them to places he would be. Future tense.

And yet, this is somethign difficult to grasp, at least for me. Why wouldn't God be with me along the way? Why would God set me on a path, and only want to meet me at the destination?

Yet, the more I meditate and perculate on it, the more it makes sense. He is our Father. If you watch any parent, as their children begin to walk, they stand behind them, arms stretched down in case they fall. As the children become more stable in their walking habits, the fathers bend and stoop less and less. Eventually, it gets to the point where the father can sit across the room, and just enjoy watching his kid walk across the room without any help from him.

So why can't our Father be the same way?

He'll meet us there. Even if he's not there every step of the way. Even if we have to go through rough patches on our journeys. Even if we get delayed on the way. He'll meet us there.

And isn't that reason enough to keep walking towards whatever destinaton He's meeting us at next?

Hey God, Can We Just Be Friends With Benefits?

So, Journey was very, very good tonight. We discussed the second half of Luke chapter eight, and how God works to restore people. How he restored a man who had been possessed by assumedly hundreds or thousands of demons and been afflicted with a lifetime of pain and struggles. How he restored a woman who had suffered through 12 years of bleeding that caused her to be unclean, caused her to be an outcast, and caused her to be without physical, emotional and spiritual things. And how he literally restored life to a body.

And we discussed how it might just be important to want to seek God for who God is, not just what God can do. To seek a God to commune with, to love and live with, not just a God who can do things and a God who is a spectacle and a show to behold.

Slowly, but surely, the wheels in my head started turning. I'm not the deepest and most understanding theologian. I'm also not the most understand or knowledgeable husband in the world. But I am a thinker. And, even though I know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that I will never fully understand my wife (or women), I also know that I have a better understanding of my wife than I do of God.

Sure, it helps that my wife is finite, and I can have tangible interaction with her, and I can directly see the impact my words and actions have upon her. But, still, I understand her better than I understand God.

And so, this leads me to believe that I understand how to relate with my wife better than how I understand how to relate with God. And so I began to connect our discussion with a chunk of scripture. A passage in Ephesians usually read at weddings to give instructions on how we should relate to our new spouse. But maybe it's there to teach us about how to relate and seek and interact with our God.

And I started to think we should be relating to our God as we (should) relate to our spouses. Not as we treat a girlfriend, someone we commit to for a season and then consider upgrading with or moving on to someone better or different. And definatley not as we treat a "friend with benefits" (note: I hate that term and what it means in terms of relationships, but it worked so well for the examples flowing in my head), someone we get involved with only for the stuff they can do for and with us.

But how often do we (do I) treat my Savior, my Lord, and my God this way? Do I come to Him and seek His ways, until I see something that looks like it might be a better option? Or come to Him only when I need something or want Him to help me in some way.

Yet, when I honestly look at my self, and I honestly look at my heart, when I honestly look at my hopes and dreams and desires ... I see that I don't want to serve and interact with my God in those ways. I want to interact with my God in a way that I daily walk and talk with Him, and daily seek to emulate Him and learn about Him and His heart.

It's Gonna Work

Last night, the Journey begun. For real this time. After years of ground work, tears, prayers, and visions and months of sweat equity and trial runs, we flung open the doors of jOURney last night for our public launch.

And we only had 14 empty seats.

And I'm trying really really hard to not read too much into one night. But I'm excited. People seemed receptive of the style, of Trevor's leadership, and of R.C. Foshizzle's worship leading, and of the experience as a whole.

I really think it's gonna work.

And I'm excited to see it work.

I honestly feel like God has plucked me from a situation that could have been very good (St. Marks) and placed me into a situation that is perfect for me (jOURney).

Also, in the past ten days, I've officially started my agent career with Aflac. Been through product class, basic sales school, and a training day in the field prospecting with my district supervisor.

I really think this is gonna work, too.

And I'm excited to get to work on it.

I honestly feel like God has calld me out of a situation I really would have enjoyed (academics in mathematics) and placed me in a situation outside of my natural comfort zone and natural strongsuits, but placed me in a position to succeed in ways larger than I ever imagined.

And, it turns out that not only was Aflac an answered prayer for me, I was an answered prayer for some folks there, too. And that's an awesome feeling to have.

So, let me know if I can practice my sales pitches on you, if you know any small business owners, or if you want to direct buy some Aflac products!

In other news, I miss Z, I need to find a CPA, and I can't believe it was Tom Brady and not Peyton Manning who threw a game ending INT to end his team's season. Maybe this year will be different.

I think this year's gonna work.

And I'm excited for it.