Earlier this week, my family went to see Disney’s latest movie, “Christopher Robin”. It was a sweet, if somewhat simple, story of a grown man remembering the importance of family and friends. As I watched, I was transported to my childhood, through the recollection of familiar songs and sayings of a bear and his friends, and my early adulthood, as I remembered watching on VHS these same stories with my children. For me (and those my age), it was a trip down memory lane and into the hundred-acre wood, making me long for simpler times.
These thoughts I am having are ‘nostalgia’, which is defined as ‘a wistful or excessively sentimental yearning for return to or of some past period or irrecoverable condition’. The term comes from the Greek word nostos (home) and algia (pain): it is literally ‘home-sickness’. Nostalgia is all about feelings: longing for the good old days or the hoping that we can make America great again. But nostalgia (like all feelings) is not necessarily anchored in reality, for the good old days may not have been all that good for some in our society and the America of generations past may not have been as great as we recall.
Instead of embracing sentimentality based on feelings, the Bible commands us to elicit memories based on facts. The last few weeks, at Vacation Bible School and through Sunday morning messages, I have read in the scriptures what we are commanded to remember: as the Israelites were crossing the Jordan River and entering the Promised Land they were commanded to erect a tower of 12 stones from the riverbed (an Ebenezer, a ‘stone of remembrance’) to remind future generations of the deliverance Lord had granted them; and through the letters Jesus dictated to the churches in Asia Minor they were commanded to remember the great height from which they had fallen. They were commanded to remember the facts of God’s gracious and merciful interactions with them, not the emotions of the moment.
Remember, therefore, what you have received and heard; hold it fast, and repent. Revelation 3:3
The church is commanded to remember what we have received (tangible blessings and actual gifts) and what we have heard (reliable teachings and sworn testimonies). We are not commanded to commemorate how we felt about what we have received or heard. In fact, an argument could be made that nostalgia emotions and feelings are man-made idols which could take the place of God if we are not careful. Instead of worshiping the God who has revealed Himself in the life, death, burial and resurrection of Jesus, we are tempted to offer our sacrifices to the gods of happiness and comfort. Unfortunately, those who choose feelings over facts end up with nothing.
It is good to remember what has happened in the past – what God has done and said – but it might not be best to wish we went back. May the source of our joy in the present be what is real and not simply what we feel.
My children tell me I have a lot of strange rules (e.g. I do not allow random singing at the kitchen table during meals). At one time, I used to demand that there would be no snacking after 4PM, with the rationale being that I wanted the kids to eat their supper when it was time for dinner. However, after years of hungry kids disregarding my wishes, I have given up the fight and silently tolerate the consumption of chips, croutons and trail mix at 5:47, thirteen minutes before mealtime. There is no stopping someone when they are hungry, and, with laser-like focus, my children will find something to eat whenever those hunger pangs strike.
Hunger, the pain that comes when an appetite is not satisfied, is a powerful force. It breaks our focus and drains our strength. It weakens our will and halts our productivity. It is the reason why parents everywhere load granola bars into their children’s backpack when the time for standardized testing rolls around. It is the reason why breakfast is the most important meal of the day. It is the reason why we should never shop for groceries on an empty stomach. One of our most primal urges, one of our basest instincts, is to satiate our hunger.
I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise you. Psalm 63:5
We all know what to do when we experience physical hunger: we find something to eat – sometimes healthy and sometimes not. But, are we aware that we do the same things with our other hungers? We satisfy our emotional hunger at times with emotional burgers (cat videos) and at other times with emotional salads (writing poems). We satisfy our mental hunger occasionally with intellectual ring dings (“Fifty Shades of Grey”) and occasionally with educational cantaloupe (“Hannah Coulter”). We satisfy our relational hunger with doughnuts (Facebook) and egg whites (face-to-face conversations). The good news is that, according to the Psalmist, God satisfies our hunger; the bad news is that we all have times when we choose to consume what is not on His menu.
Nowhere is this more evident than when it comes to our spiritual hunger. Throughout the scriptures we are promised the lavish abundance of the Lamb’s marriage supper. When we feast upon the blessings of Christ, we are given forgiveness, eternal life, spiritual giftedness and spiritual fruit. There are times when we choose spiritual celery (which has no nutritional value) or spiritual caramel corn (which is not good for us). We hunger for forgiveness, for example, but instead of receiving satisfaction from God we seek justification from the culture. We substitute the good for the good enough.
These hungers we experience are necessary. It is in our best interest to listen to them. Our focus, strength, will and productivity will suffer if we neglect to keep watch over our appetites. Appreciate the banquet table the Lord has prepared for you and accept no lesser substitute. Allow your satisfaction to come from God and you need not spoil your appetite on what the world has to offer.
There is a place in my neighborhood that is a microcosm of my neighborhood. As the noontime hour approaches, you can see every demographic: there are police officers in uniform, fire fighters in Blue BFD T-shirts, DCR lifeguards from Malibu Beach, grandchildren dressed in Vineyard Vines pants (pegged at the ankle) visiting their grandparents, National Grid workers in safety vests, lawyers in business suits, moms with strollers, politicians and fast-food clerks. It is there where every ethnicity and lifestyle of Dorchester is represented, and men and women of every age are present. Where is this perfect melting pot that includes everyone, from Boston Brahmin to the denizen of the triple-deckers? As a pastor, I would like to say that I am talking about the church, but, alas, I am not. The place that I am talking about is the deli counter at Lamberts. At lunchtime, the line for sandwiches includes everyone that calls Dorchester home.
Ah, Lamberts, where you can get the finest sandwich eight bucks can buy. All you have to do is hand the meat slicer your choice of roll and a list (either verbally or in writing) of ingredients, and a few minutes later, you are handed a piece of heaven wrapped in butcher paper. But it is in that long line leading to the counter that you can brush shoulders with literally anyone and everyone. As I wait for my turn, I wonder if this is what heaven will be like, complete with the distinct sound of dropped ‘r’s and the obligatory ‘wicked’.
“Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all.” Colossians 3:11 (NIV)
The original design for what we call the local church, according to the apostle Paul, was that it included everyone. No one was to be excluded based on religious, cultural, national, economic or gender (cf. Gal. 3:28). In practice, the local gatherings of the family of God routinely miss the mark. Why can’t the people of God be like the line at Lamberts? Why isn’t the make-up of the ‘bride of Christ’ the same as those waiting for sandwiches? Why isn’t the church as diverse as those frequenting the local deli?
I suppose the answer to all these questions is simple: reputation. Lamberts has the long line for their offerings because they are known, largely through word of mouth, as a provider of excellent lunches for everyone. What is the reputation of the church? Justified or not, Dr. Martin Luther King was quoted as saying, “…it is appalling that the most segregated hour of Christian America is eleven o’clock on Sunday morning.” In the fifty-eight years since those words were uttered, the church has taken great strides, but there is more to be done so that the community surrounding our houses of worship verify that the local church has changed. I hope that one day soon the same crowd at Lamberts is present at Calvary. All we can do is spread the word, with genuine sincerity, that all are welcome to worship the Lord.
Unless you yourself have been living in a cave for the past three weeks, you know about the rescue of the dozen Thai boys and their soccer coach. This rescue can be only described as miraculous. On Saturday, June 23rd, the team was reported missing, their bicycles found at the mouth of a cave as monsoon rains poured down. Search and recue teams were dispatched, but the flooded caves proved too treacherous for the local authorities. National and international divers were recruited, and, despite the odds, the whole team was found by a diver on July 2nd, nine days after reported missing. Weak from starvation and compromised by low oxygen levels in the cave, the team was cared for (underground) as the rescue team formulated an extraction plan. Ultimately, with the use of a ‘buddy diver’ system, the boys and their coach were rescued six, seven and eight days later (on July 8th, 9th and 10th). After more than two weeks of darkness, for the boys and their loved ones, they all were safely resting in a hospital located 37 miles away from that murky cave.
To many observers, lost in the details of this miraculous delivery are the fatal circumstances of Major Saman Gunan, the former Thai Navy Seal who died when his oxygen ran out while navigating the path in and out of the cave on July 6th. Without the sacrifice of a few, there would not be reason to rejoice. The good news – that the boys were delivered from certain death – is undergirded by greater news – that there are always some who will be willing to die that others may live. The good news celebrated by ordinary people is secured by extraordinary people amongst us: fire fighters, police officers, rangers, soldiers, sailors and more. Join me in celebrating the ones who dare to face death for the sake of others.
You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us. Romans 5:6-8
Saving innocent good boys is commendable work. Saving guilty troublemakers (the neighborhood kids that are throwing rocks at houses and cars while calling our parents terrible names and stealing their property) is another matter. While no one would say, “Let them die!”, that same ‘no one’ will not risk their very lives, instead doing what they can, to save them. No one simply human, that is. The one who is fully human and fully divine would not only risk His life but will give His life to save all those who oppose His Father. He gave His life for you and me.
We all have been driven deeper into darkness through the chaos of the rising waters and were at the point of death, needing deliverance. Thank God that He bought us into the light, giving His own life as a means of our rescue.
By the time you read this, summer will have arrived for my family. The younger boys will (finally) be done with school and our summer plans will have begun. These plans include Calvary’s Splash Canyon Vacation Bible School, many of the Free Fun Friday events funded through The Highland Street Foundation, visits to Nantasket beach, and getting ice cream at Sully’s on Castle Island. We will also be taking a road trip to visit friends and family along the East Coast, spending time in Pennsylvania, Maryland and Washington DC. Finally, our summer will be filled with late mornings, long walks, and plenty of summer fare (steamers, corn on the cob, watermelon, hamburgers, potato salad). Sadly, before we know it, it will be September 6 and school will begin again.
Summer vacation will be just ten weeks (sixty-nine days to be exact) for children enrolled in Boston’s public school system, which includes my school-aged boys; ten weeks of unstructured play, ten weeks of daytime television, ten weeks without homework or studies. This well might be my middle son’s last unencumbered summer vacation, as we are prayerfully anticipating his graduation from High School this time next year, and at that time he may be too old to hang out with the family. My wife and I will have a number more summers with our youngest, but he, too, is getting older and may not want to visit the New Bedford Whaling Museum or sit in the sand with mom and dad. I feel that we must seize this opportunity to spend this extended time together as a family before it is too late.
Teach us to number our days, that we may gain a heart of wisdom. Psalm 90:12 (NIV)
I am asking the Lord to teach me, enabling me to gain wisdom, as I number the next sixty-nine days. I am numbering eight days of vacation: sixty-one days; five days of VBS: fifty-six days; nine other Sundays: forty-seven days. Help me, Lord, to spend some part of these next forty-seven days together with my family. Help me, Lord, to make a memory every day this summer with my wife and with my children; actually, help me, Lord, to do this beyond the summer – on day seventy and day eighty and day eight hundred, if God should grant it possible.
I wonder: what memory could we make today with a loved one, or what recollection can we plant for another day in our intervening hours with a friend? Truth be told, we are not guaranteed tomorrow, let alone a whole summer vacation: all we have is now. Some of the things I put off until another day may be lost altogether as preferences change and people mature. Will you join me as I carpe æstatem (which is Latin for ‘seize the summer’)? Perhaps that means consuming a pint of whole-belly clams at The Clam Box or spending the night under the stars at a state park. Whatever it means for you, do it; don’t wait for a better day or a warmer night. Summer memories await… carpe æstatem!
During a recent Bible study, the following question was posed: Who has been an example of Christlikeness for you? The question was asked as part of the larger context of the great commission where, in part, Jesus directs His followers to make disciples by “…teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you.” Since we can only teach what we already know, implicit in the commission is each disciple’s obedience to Christ’s commands. Wisdom further implies that Jesus’ disciples would utilize and model the knowledge we have acquired. Essential to making disciples, therefore, is exemplifying Christlikeness, and thankfully, I have plenty of people who demonstrate obedience to Jesus.
Since this blog is written for public consumption (and once it is posted, it can never completely disappear), I am not going to include names. That being said, I have mental pictures of numerous people who regular live out Jesus’ great commandment:
Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.” Matthew 22:37–40 (NIV)
While no one is perfect, I can picture in my mind many who love the Lord with all they are: they give sacrificially to His work, they meditate daily on His word, and they share consistently His transforming power. I can also see in my recollections many who love their neighbor as much as they love themselves: those who have crossed cultural boundaries to tell others the good news of Jesus, shared time they didn’t have to care and comfort strangers in need, and spoke words of truth to those who needed a dose of reality.
All these things, and more, exemplify Christlikeness in a world that desperately needs neighbors with a character akin to Jesus. We are constantly bombarded by accounts on our newsfeeds and newscasts of inhumanities perpetrated against the least among us. Because we are a nation of laws (and those laws are subject to interpretation by politicians and pundits), we need people who choose to live, however imperfectly, according to a higher standard: God’s law. We, as a society, need individuals who are willing to love God wholly and love their neighbors indiscriminately. We need people who are willing to exemplify Christlikeness, even at great personal cost.
So, I return to the question I began with: Who has been an example of Christlikeness for you? My answer is simple: All those who choose to express sacrificial love instead of selfish self-interest. In saying this, my answer is also complex: Those who are an example of Christlikeness can be found anywhere, since they have no other commonalities outside of love (as there is no experiential, economic, political or ethnic indicators of a disciple of Jesus). While not everyone is an example of Christlikeness, anyone could be. Anyone could follow the law of sacrificial love rightly expressed to God and others.
This Sunday is Father’s Day, the time when we celebrate the dads in our lives. Being the father of four, I can attest that being a dad is not a undertaking for the faint of heart. Generations ago, men had it easier, if Ward Cleaver or Mike Brady of classic television sitcoms are any indication – work every day during the week, escape to the home office when you are home and play golf on the weekends; the only time a dad interacted with their children was to dispense disciplinary chastisement or moral clichés. Today’s dads are expected to work inside and outside the home, attend a fair number of their children’s extra-curricular and school events, and spend quality time with their family. As I reflect on these things, I realize that being a father is one of the hardest and greatest roles God has blessed me to perform.
There is a man, a father, in the Bible that inspires me as a dad. His name was Jairus. He was a synagogue leader (and therefore a man of faith) and the father of a 12-year-old daughter. But he was a father in crisis: despite the religious practices he, no doubt, engaged in (praying, offering sacrifices and fasting), his daughter was dying. What would you do if your baby was deathly ill? If you are Jairus, you go to an itinerant rabbi whom you heard had accomplished miracles. However, before he could return with the man of Galilee, a servant of his tells him that it is too late: his daughter is dead.
Hearing this, Jesus said to Jairus, “Don’t be afraid; just believe, and she will be healed.” Luke 8:50
Instead of giving up, Jairus gave his troubles over to Jesus. He continued the long walk home and, instead of trusting the eyes of his servant, he trusted the words of a stranger. As he came into his home, there was weeping and mourning appropriate to the circumstances. But Jesus would not have any of it.
He went in and said to them, “Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep.” But they laughed at him. Mark 5:39-40
What is a dad to do? You take a leap of faith and everyone you care about thinks it is a joke. But, then again, what did he have to lose? If Jesus was unable to do anything, his daughter was still dead…but what if HE WAS ABLE to do something amazing?
There are days that I feel like Jairus, asking Jesus to secure a healthy future of my child. I have nothing I can offer but trust: trust that my 10-year-old will safely navigate the streets of Boston from school to home, trust that my 17-year-old will pass that difficult class, trust that my 20-year-old will be protected from the dangers prevalent in our national capital and trust that my 23-year-old will arrive home safely from that job 131 miles away. People may say that my intercessions are realistically useless or that my circumstances are ridiculously hopeless. Still, the dad in me will trust in the one who is able to do immeasurably more than I can imagine.
Happy Father’s Day to all those who are blessed to be called “Dad”.
As I was following a digital ‘rabbit trail’ this week, I came across Volvo’s mission statement: “Vision 2020 is about reducing the number of people that die or are seriously injured in road traffic accidents to zero.” Volvo has embraced what business leaders call a B.H.A.G. – a big, hairy, audacious goal. They developed an emotionally compelling and strategically bold trajectory for their company. Volvo and other business who develop these B.H.A.G.s challenge themselves, their employees and their consumers to imagine a future that is bigger than their individual efforts could produce, scarier than their comfort levels would allow and bolder than their frames of reference should expect.
B.H.A.G.s are nothing new. In fact, when Jesus sent out his disciples to minister to the needs of the world around them, as recorded in Matthew 10, he commands them:
“Heal the sick, raise the dead, cleanse those who have leprosy, drive out demons. Freely you have received; freely give.” Matthew 10:8
In my humble opinion, those are some big, hairy and audacious goals. How would it be possible for that rag-tag band of fishermen, financial agents and farmers to be able to do these things? Raise the dead? B.H.A.G.s are great, as long as they are achievable. When Jesus gave them a humanly impossible task to accomplish, thank God he also equipped them to accomplish it. Matthew tells us:
Jesus called his twelve disciples to him and gave them authority to drive out impure spirits and to heal every disease and sickness. Matthew 10:1
I wonder what B.H.A.G.s the Lord may be calling us to aspire to accomplish in our communities today. Without diminishing the power of God at work through us (it seems unlikely that we’d be commanded to raise the dead), He is challenging us attempt more than our ability enables, our comfort allows and our logic expects. He may be calling us to completely love those who make different choices than we have made. He may be calling us to comprehensively care for those ravaged by the consequences of sin, regardless of whether this sin is theirs or another’s. He may be calling us consciously give away all that He has generously given us – everything from grace to garage space. He may be calling us to compassionately speak the truth that others need to hear in a way that they will hear it so that the healing of hearts and relationships may take place.
Whatever we might think God has called us to accomplish, Matthew 10 challenges us to think bigger, think hairier, and think more audaciously. If we think we can help ten people, God may be enabling us to help a hundred. If we think we can encourage someone living on our cul-de-sac, God may be enabling us to encourage someone NOT living in our neighborhood. If we think we can teach the kids at the church, God may be enabling us to teach the kids at the public school. God is the originator of B.H.A.G.s. What is He able to accomplish through ours, were we willing to give Him the opportunity?
This coming Sunday, June 3rd, our community will gather along the length of Dorchester Avenue to celebrate Dorchester Day and commemorate its incorporation on June 1, 1630 with a parade of police cars, floats and local politicians. So, after church on Sunday, we will sit on the curb with our neighbors to be (hopefully) showered with candy and treated to skilled performances by dance troupes, martial arts schools and school marching bands. Despite being firmly within the city limits, we will, for an afternoon, adopt the feel of a small town as we wave our tiny American flags and put aside our differences in order to enjoy all our community has to offer.
It is good to get together with people every once in a while. Having a sense of community is important. But, don’t take my word for it; these are the words of Vice Admiral Vivek H. Murthy, the 19th Surgeon General of the United States:
We live in the most technologically connected age in the history of civilization, yet rates of loneliness have doubled since the 1980s. Today, over 40% of adults in America report feeling lonely, and research suggests that the real number may well be higher.
We are, despite all of our followers on Twitter and all our friends on Facebook, a bunch of lonely people.
I wish that all our neighbors – irrespective of economic, ethnic, racial or age-related distinctions – would have a parade to attend every weekend. I wish there were a regular event where we all could enjoy community. Rarely do we get together with someone somewhere outside of our well-defined demographics; that is, except for one particular occasion. God’s word has a remedy for this epidemic of loneliness: the family of God. That’s right, the church. If you are feeling isolated, attend a service of worship this weekend.
… not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another – and all the more as you see the Day approaching. Hebrews 10:25
Accept the challenge to be counter-cultural. Be willing to gather for an hour to hear music that you haven’t chosen and reflect on topics you haven’t selected, surrounded by people who are not completely like you. Be willing to engage in prayer and praise with those who have more and with those who have less. Be willing to share your story with those of a different culture and with those from a different upbringing. Be willing to rejoice with those who have something to rejoice over (even when it is something you might not celebrate) and mourn with those who have something to mourn over (even if you cannot sympathize with their pain).
If you are uncomfortable around people who are not quite like you and are a little scared to enter the doors of a church and be surrounded by strangers, come to the parade and look for me (I will be the only guy standing near Ashmont station in a suit and tie). I would be blessed to celebrate the community with you and develop some community with you. Maybe we can shake the mayor’s hand as well.
Earlier this week, I felt like a was in a bad comedy routine. At 9:18AM on Tuesday my cell phone rang and a telemarketer asked for Janelle. I politely told the caller that it was a wrong number and thought nothing more about it. It happened again, from a different number, ten minutes later. And again. And again. All told, I received a total of ten calls, all from different numbers and different companies, throughout the day. I thought that surely the last call I received was going to be from Janelle, asking if she had any messages.
My life was briefly interrupted by telemarketers, each one offering some great thing to someone I never met. Ten calls throughout the day, all looking for someone else, were a major nuisance. In the end, I never got an answer to my question of where they got my number; I can only speculate that, perhaps, Janelle entered a contest at a mall or visited a time-share presentation. Whatever the reason, intentional or unintentional, ten people reached out to me, thinking me to be someone I am not.
As I was answering all these calls, it struck me that there are those in our culture that will exploit one fact about us to gain access to our lives. These telemarketers had a valid phone number and tried to take advantage of whoever would answer. They took one vital statistic, one entry point into my life, and tried to get more. I am relatively certain that these calls were benign, but in a world where identity theft and cybercrime is rampant, one can never be too cautious.
“In your anger do not sin”: Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry, and do not give the devil a foothold. Ephesians 4:26-27
While I am in no way equating telemarketers with the satanic (after all, I was a telemarketer for a local newspaper for about three hours), these ‘wrong numbers’ did make me think about the devil and his tactics. As Paul’s letter to the Ephesians tells us, all it takes is a foothold, a crack or crevice in our stony exterior, for the enemy of our soul to scale our defenses and access our vulnerable spirits. All it takes is one truth for the father of lies to breach the doors and take our lives – an embarrassing action, a hidden temptation, a word of anger, a troubled past. The devil takes what he knows and tries to get more, just like those pesky callers to my cellphone.
The remedy to both the telemarketers and Mephistopheles is to refuse to reply. We can, empowered by the Spirit, refuse to take the bait. We can tell them, strongly and simply, that it is a wrong number, that the one they seek is not found here. We can do this because one fact about us is not our identity and one forgiven action is not our lifestyle.
Now, if I could only figure out how to end those calls informing me about an urgent public announcement regarding my energy service I would be blessed beyond measure.