Enough To Go Around

While preparing to go to Guatemala on a short-term mission trip last fall, I caught a piece of information that struck me then and has continued to strike me since.

The Quiché people of Guatemala, whose belief system is derived from Christian and Mayan roots, have an interesting approach to relating to one another. They believe in the concept of limited good, which asserts that there is only a fixed amount of good in the world. If you're not getting good, you're getting evil. Each of us can hope for a hearty helping of blessing, but -- at the end of the day -- if someone else's cup overflows, yours is going to run dry. 

Imagine for a moment the implications of this view. If you believe that there is only so much good to be had in this world, how does this affect the way you respond to your neighbor's snazzy new car? Your co-worker's promotion? Your brother's wife's cousin's cancer diagnosis? I offer a few theories. If this worldview has had its way in you, you are prone to think that the good in other's lives is an enemy of your own. When this takes root, you don't have a fighting chance at truly being happy for others. Their success stands as a reminder of what you are less likely to enjoy. The converse is perhaps more disturbing. If something bad happens to someone, you are apt to find yourself breathing a twisted sigh of relief. There is now one less chance of you having to suffer a similar fate. And you secretly celebrate -- party of one. 

I realize that this sounds extreme and that -- for most of us -- this belief doesn't manifest itself with such severity. But I honestly see this worldview in our hearts, in my heart. Your friendly neighborhood anthropologist might tell you that this belief is most common in traditional societies and not industrialized ones like ours... but I think we know better. These roots run deeply in us. And they cannot be doused with the pesticides of concerted effort. 

I especially see it in (gulp) the ladies. Let's be honest. How often has your rejoicing been stunted because you feel, somewhere in the deep recesses of you heart, that the "good" thing that happened to your sister (whatever that "good" thing is) would or could never happen to you? She has perfect children. I will never have perfect children. Her husband is the man. Mine is... not. Her fiancé planned out the perfect proposal. I would be lucky to get a guy to ask me what time it is. Her life is a-ma-zing. Mine will always be bo-or-ing. And (this one is harder to admit), how often have you walked a little taller knowing that your life is not as bad as "hers?" You're a little smarter? You look a little better? The truth is, the concept of limited good is only good for one thing: making us ugly. 

We need to get to the roots. If we're plagued by believing in limited good, even in the most subtle sense, we need to repent, turn back toward God. If we are captive to the notion of limited good, we are ultimately saying, "Sorry, buddy. You're not too good at the whole 'giving gifts to your kids' thing. You keep getting it wrong." I implore you to think better of him. Believe the truth. Esteem him much, much higher. Also, take some time to think through how you define "good." In God's economy, putting yourself first puts you on the fast-track to finishing last. Thinking of yourself as wiser than God confirms that you are a fool. Sometimes good looks like a new car, the perfect day or a thriving marriage. Sometimes good looks like a worst-case scenario, the loss of the irreplaceable or the words you never wanted to hear. How? "...We know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for those who are called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28) The truth is, there is no limited good because there is no limit to what God can make good. Because of him, we are free to rejoice with others because their good is no longer the enemy of our own. We are free to glory in Jesus, who suffered the worst, in order to share his best with us.

Thank you, God, that we can rest in this. And thank you that there really is enough good to go around.

5%

I'm currently reading a book called Leading On Empty by Wayne Cordeiro... and it's good. It serves as a very practical and helpful tool in preventing burnout and helping you recover from burnout if you're already feeling its pangs. Cordeiro communicates as if he's an old mentor who understands, whose axioms are simple enough to absorb, accessible enough to transcend many contexts and deep enough to keep you wondering, "how do I make this manifest in my own life?" I recommend this book to all, but especially to those who are figuring out what it looks like to endure and truly run after Christ for a lifetime. We're talking about the marathon. We're not talking about intermittent, short sprints when it's comfortable or seems appropriate to get off the sidelines. We're talking tortoise, not hare.

One of the exercises in the book is about setting your priorities in life. No, it's not earth-shattering. But the more sure you are of your priorities, the less likely you are to flounder in crisis moments, the less likely you are to waffle under the pressure of decisions. You already know -- deep within -- what's important. So you act in accordance with what has already been established rather than scrambling to get a coherent stance together when your mind and heart look more like scrambled eggs than... unscrambled eggs.

Cordeiro wisely helps us unscramble ourselves by putting the things that make up our lives into three helpful categories:

• 85% of our lives are made up of tasks to do that anyone could do -- like answering emails, going to meetings, getting groceries and the like.
• 10% of our lives are comprised of things that we could potentially delegate to others given that we are training them properly. 
• Next is what we've been building up to: the final 5%. These are the things that only we can be responsible for. They cannot be delegated. These are the things that God has asked us to do.

There are some things to note here. The things in these categories change with life stage and circumstance, but the principle remains the same. Also, these percentages are not hard and fast and they're not necessarily inspired. We cannot replace the Holy Spirit's work in our lives with pragmatism. However, this is a helpful way to at least get us intentionally thinking about our priorities rather than just assuming we know what they are and we are living like they are.

Coming up with my 5% was not as difficult as I thought, but I know it's a work in progress. For now, these are what I know are my priorities:

1. Reckoning and believing God the Father to be my Father, Jesus to be my Savior and my Treasure, and the Holy Spirit to be my best Helper and walking by this faith -- more and more as I live. 
2. In all humility, as a beggar showing other beggars where they can find bread, leading others to Jesus, the Bread of Life. 
3. Being a friend to my family and family to my friends. (I should explain this one. Over the years, my close friends have become my family -- a fact that I am thankful for and love, and I do believe that they are my family. However, I also have a hard time pouring the same amount of love, blood, sweat and tears into some my actual family because of brokenness. So what I mean by this statement is that I want to give both my "physical" family and "friend" family the same level of priority.)
4. Devoting my life to cultivating authentic sisterhood at Living Stones: women redeemed by Jesus, healed by Jesus, believing more and more in Jesus, loving one another and leading one another to Jesus. 
5. Taking care of my body and soul; exercise, a balanced diet, intentionally resting/recharging and pursuing solitude before I seek destructive isolation and run from relationship and responsibility.
6. As much as I can, relieving the pastors of Living Stones of their 95% in order that they might be freed to pursue their 5%. Not because it's my job, but because I'm working unto the Lord.

After mapping out this 5%, I already feel more grounded, focused. I'm also aware of the fact that it could change at any moment... literally. "The heart of a man plans his way, but the Lord establishes his steps..." Proverbs 16:9

Thank God!

Here's the artwork for a stand-alone sermon on the Sunday after Thanksgiving. Excited for Pastor Harvey and Pastor Kyle Bateson to bring the heat!

1 Corinthians: Dear Reno | Gospel Mission

For specs on the making of the graphics, comment or message me. And... if you can name all the icons in the collage... you will get a prize. Promise.

This month, we begin another leg in the trip through 1 Corinthians at Living Stones. We'll be tracking though a lot of tough passages, but--ultimately--what has struck me the most is the reminder that where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom (2 Cor. 3:17). We are free to behold him. We are free to approach him with unveiled face. We are free to display his glory before all men. This seems to be an overarching theme of the Lord's work in my personal life as well as in the lives of those I'm encountering; it is also a necessary hinge upon which gospel mission may move. I pray that we all will experience our freedom in Christ--casting off all that hinders the gospel from multiplying in our lives--as we continue on.

Old Souls

"Now when the builders had laid the foundation of the temple of the LORD, the priests stood in their apparel with trumpets, and the Levites, the sons of Asaph, with cymbals, to praise the LORD according to the directions of King David of Israel. They sang, praising and giving thanks to the LORD, saying, 'For He is good, for His lovingkindness is upon Israel forever.' And all the people shouted with a great shout when they praised the LORD because the foundation of the house of the LORD was laid. Yet many of the priests and Levites and heads of fathers' households, the old men who had seen the first temple, wept with a loud voice when the foundation of this house was laid before their eyes, while many shouted aloud for joy, so that the people could not distinguish the sound of the shout of joy from the sound of the weeping of the people, for the people shouted with a loud shout, and the sound was heard far away." --Ezra 3:10-13

You don't have to scour retirement homes to find them. They may not be at the point where they need to 'Fixodent and forget it.' There is a group of delightful people in the world that are referred to as old souls. And, regardless of age, they offer a side of the story that needs to be told.

Ezra offered me this reminder this morning as I read the account of the foundation of the 2nd temple being laid. Understandably, this was a time of great rejoicing for God's people. This kind of redemption is certainly not something to be taken lightly. However, as the young bucks who labored over the temple celebrated with shouts of joy, some of the old-timers wept. There is much depth to this reaction, depth that I want to know.

For those old enough to remember (or wise enough to not forget), this moment was an unprecedented encounter with God's mercy. Memories of fish hooks, fire and famine suddenly gave way to redemption and rebuilding. God, by his grace, disciplined his people--and with that same grace, he brought them home. I can't help but imagine that every tear carried a certain measure of reverence. God could just as easily destroy this second foundation as he did the first in his fatherly, disciplinary love. He is sovereign in both his pardon and his wrath. These two realities working in tandem amount to an overwhelming response, to say the least. 

The passage goes on to describe how the sounds of rejoicing and the sounds of weeping married and were carried off in the distance. I am reminded of how we desperately need this balance. We need shouts of joy just as much as we need cries of sorrow. We need brokenness just as much as we need rebuilding. We need stories of victory just as much as we need cautionary tales. Why? Because the two combine and carry God's glory immeasurably further than one or the other could do on its own. The world needs to see and hear the whole story... not just one part. This is mirrored in the life of Jesus, who exemplified--in himself--perfect anguish and perfect victory. 

I long to tell both sides of the story in my own life... to be rid of cynicism enough to praise and rejoice like a child and filled with wisdom and depth of experience enough to weep when awestruck by God's glory.  

Dear Reno II

It's almost time for the next sermon series in 1 Corinthians to begin... and we've got an array of light, summer fare to offer. Here's a sample of the assortment:

• Gospel Growth
• Building Gospel Communities
• You Are Christ's
• Arrogance and Authority
• Church Discipline
• Grieve(ances)

Is that light and summery enough for ya? That's what I thought. Nothing light or summery about it.

I find myself thankful -- really thankful -- that I have the honor of sitting under preaching that doesn't shy away from what is messy, difficult and/or problematic. I'm thankful to be part of a community in which those who are messy, difficult and/or problematic are being healed, renewed and remade.

I pray that we will be ready to receive what the Lord has for us, to plumb the depths of difficult truth and to experience subsequent depths of grace.

Voices

For 5 weeks during the summer, we'll be taking a short break from I Corinthians: Dear Reno and doing a sermon series called Voices at Living Stones. Each sermon will be preached by a different member of the LS Community or by a guest preacher from around the region. These "voices" will come with their respective soapboxes in tow, each sharing the truth, concept or topic that fuels him the most. Not only will it be an opportunity to enjoy some diversity, but -- let's be honest -- when someone gets the chance to teach about that one thing that ignites his soul above all else... we would do well to listen.

For the Voices artwork, I decided to go green. Not for any sort of symbolic reason... mostly just because I Corinthians: Dear Reno was red heavy. No big whoop. : )

If there is any symbolism to be had, it's in the fact that it's kind of a mess. The colors are a little muddy. Some of the words are deliberately out of focus and all seem to be competing for a place to call their own. There are all kinds of splotches contributing to the chaos. To draw the parallel, there are times when the noise in our lives gets so piercing, the fuzz so thick, that the one voice that matters most grows faint. I think that may be where my heart has been for the last week -- straining to hear Him through the busyness of life. I had the blessing of slowing down and taking communion tonight with one of my Small Groups and read John 6:55-58 in the process:

"For my flesh is true food, and my blood is true drink. Whoever feeds on my flesh and drinks my blood abides in me, and I in him. As the living Father sent me, and I live because of the Father, so whoever feeds on me, he also will live because of me. This is the bread that came down from heaven, not like the bread the fathers ate and died. Whoever feeds on this bread will live forever."

Jesus is the ultimate satisfaction, the ultimate nourishment, the ultimate fulfillment. His voice will cut through all of the noise and will silence every doubt, every hunger pang, every naysayer, every fear, every boast, every selfish thought.

Ironically enough, if I were ever given the opportunity to take my soapbox and set it up somewhere (regardless if anyone is there to listen), that is what I would want to talk about: abiding in Christ. I would contend with the saints and urge them to believe that the very Spirit that raised Jesus from the dead dwells in them -- and that this changes everything. I would plead with those who do not have a relationship with Jesus to connect to Him, the True Vine, and have life. To all I would say that Christ in you is the only hope of glory.

I've borrowed these words from a song we sing at LS from time to time, but I think it sums up my hope for the Voices series: "may Your voice be louder / may Your voice be clearer / than all the others / may Your face be dearer / may Your words be sweeter / than all the others in my life / please keep my eyes fixed on You / please root my heart so deep in You / keep me abiding / keep me abiding / so I might bear fruit."