a message for those who minister...

For those of you who minister to people (whether formally or informally) this "charge" given by N.T. Wright to a group being ordained is humbling. This charge is based on 1 Corinthians 1:18-2:5. The profundity found in this simple wisdom is freeing and empowering. Click here to read the transcript. Be blessed!

parks, poop, and public restrooms... a father's tale

A couple of weeks ago I was forced to come to terms with the reality that I am not the "cool dad" I thought I was. Mommy had to work and I had the kids for the night. So, in all my genius I thought I would take the kids to Mingo Park. That is a local park in our town that must have been designed by engineers who were either completely discontented as kids by a simple teeter totter; or, more likely, they were tripping on acid when they drew up the plans for this playground area.

Anyway, with this brainchild of mine before me I began to pack up the kids. I had my two and a half year old daughter, Vera, go to the bathroom. While she was doing that I changed Jonah's, my 14-month-old son, diaper. She sounded like she had unleashed Niagara Falls in the toilet, while I changed his "soiled" diaper. In that moment I thought I was golden. After both were done, I let them run around a bit while I did the dutiful dad thing of packing an extra set of clothes and snacks. When all was completed, off we went.

When we got to the park we snagged a bench and set our stuff down. As the three of us ran up the entrance ramp to the playground I noticed a foul stench emanating from the nether regions known as my son's bum. I couldn't believe it! I lifted the boy up to confirm and my gag reflex began to kick in as I did. All the while Jonah just smiled.

So, I told Vera to go play while I changed Jonah on the grass next to our bench. Even though the changing of poop filled diapers in public like that may be un-kosher to some, I chose that route to allow visibility of Vera as she kept playing. As people passed the reactions covered the spectrum - the glares of "how dare he!" to "aww, that's so cute!" After finishing up something dawned on me. Vera had stopped jabbering and running and all I could see was the top of her head peaking out over one of those tic-tac-toe walls. The following dialogue went something like this...

Me: "Vera, you ok sweetie?" Silence... "Vera, you ok?"
Vera: "Yeah, dad... (Insert long uncomfortable pause). Daddy, I pooped."
Me: "Did you already poop or do you need to poop?"
Vera: "Daddy, I pooped. And I need to poop some more"
Me: "Yikes."

So, the three of us walked over to the public restroom. Now there are all sorts of things I could say at this point, but the fact is there is no redeeming value in talking about the condition of a men's restroom at a park. I am sure you understand what I mean.

Anyway, I put Jonah down next to me to help Vera out of her sullied underwear. He watched us for a second then bolted toward the urinals. Considering that all the liquid I could see in the urinals were a brownish yellow hue the scenario playing out before me was not good. So, with one hand already helping Vera balance as she was trying to carefully remove the dirty undie, I snag one of his arms with my free hand. He stopped dead in his tracks. Then as soon as he felt me relax he lunged forward. Thankfully he's only one so once I tightened my grip he couldn't get any further. As she continued to step, oh so carefully, out of her dirty skivs I managed to get him into a position I could carry him comfortably.

After that we threw away the underwear. Our next task was to get her to the toilet to help her finish "the deed". The first two stalls were... what's the best way to say this? Full! The third was empty, but it had that look. You know "that look". It's the look that says if one were to make skin contact with the seat that person would become intimately acquainted with scabies. I looked around for one of those seat cover dispensers, but, of course, none could be found.

The funny thing is even my daughter at the age of two seems to have developed sensibilities to how toilets should look. She looked at me as if to say, "I am not sitting on that thing." So, while holding Jonah in one arm I lifted her up and helped her stand on the seat. Still holding my arm she safely balanced herself and then carefully squatted over the pot.

Thankfully she was ready and she dropped off the remaining kids at the pool in less than a minute. Vera got so excited that she started squealing as only a two-year-old girl can. Jonah just stared quizzically trying to figure out what was so exciting. Now, as truly awkward as that moment was, I couldn't help but laugh. Soon, all three of us were laughing as we stood there in the stall cleaning up. After a minute of that, we walked out of the stall, got new underwear on the girl, washed our hands, and then raced toward the entrance ramp to the playground once more.

When people talk about father hood they don't talk about moments like these; we should, but we don't. I can clearly say that even though it wasn't pretty or perfect, we got through it - together. Even more so, amidst all the craziness of that instance I couldn't help but be humbled by my inadequacy. I don't know how mothers make it look so easy! The truth is that even something as inane as this event has clearly shown me how much I need Jesus to get through each day - especially the ones involving parks, poop, and public restrooms.

Recovering Biblical Worship

Tonight, I listened to a talk N.T. Wright gave back in 2002 at Calvin College. Wright's take on life, theology, and spirituality have always challenged me to reevaluate whether I am living the Christ-life on God's terms or seeking to fabricate it on my own terms. Reading and hearing his perspective on Biblical worship in this setting was no different.

To hear the talk click Freedom and Framework, Spirit and Truth: Recovering Biblical Worship. To read the transcript, click here. Hope you enjoy it as much as I did. Blessings...

Quiet the Noise (Save me)

The poem below is entitled Quiet the Noise (Save Me). With this poem comes a specific context, so let me try to explain… When I hear people talk about how to “get saved” or how he/she needs to be “saved” it more often than not has a distinct connotation. It intimates an “Oh, that? Yeah I’ve done that” type of attitude. And with that I am starting to believe the experience of the Christ life gets short-circuited. With this little slip of the tongue a heart’s status is revealed.

Yes, there is a moment when we as Christ followers can look back and say, “God saved me!” To not do so in joy and awe would trivialize the glory and power of what Christ did on the cross. However, the power of His death and resurrection shouldn’t be relegated to that moment a person is “saved.” His death and resurrection hold the power of God that keeps saving us. It’s all throughout the New Testament. Paul talks about “working out our salvation (Phil 2:13-14).” And Peter calls the churches to rid themselves of “all malice, and all deceit, hypocrisy, envy, and slander of every kind… so that you may grow up in your salvation (1 Peter 1:1-2:3).” When I see these passages I realize how we limit His work.

In general when a person is “saved from” something that means that they are “saved for” a purpose or “saved to” someone. It’s the logical progression. Imagine a firefighter saving a baby from a burning home and afterwards the firefighter leaving the baby in the yard; how would you feel? That action of the baby being left in the yard is almost offensive to our natural sensibility. I’m thinking the stinking firefighter needs to find the kids parents and hand the baby over to them. It’s only natural! Right?

The Biblical call is to be transformed. We are being saved more from our sinful nature every day, and thus we are being saved TO know Christ more FOR the purpose of revealing Him to rest of His creation… daily! Jesus called us to make disciples – life long followers; He did not call us to make just converts.
So this reality that I need Him to save me more TO Himself today than I did yesterday is the context for this lyric. It's been my prayer lately, feel free to make it your own...

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Quiet the noise and everything that I’ve let crowd You out.
Quiet my soul and take the stage that should be solely Yours.
Quiet the lies plaguing my mind, the whispers that seem to shout.
Quiet my soul and take the place that You deserve O Lord.

For I long to see You as You are,
and not as I’ve conceived.
And I long to hear Your voice that brings
Your presence and Your fear.

So I sing, Hosanna, I am Yours.
So I sing, Hosanna, save me more.
So I sing, Hosanna, I am Yours.
So I sing, Hosanna, save me Lord.

a religion that frees...

A friend sent me this lecture from Charles Finney. For those who struggle with loving God simply, this is a good reminder. Remember Finney lived in a time where the language was less casual and so the vernacular will feel cumbersome, but it's worth the read. Click here...