“Waiting For Life”–THE BOOK!

So, it seems I’ve written a book!

Yep! This week I’m thrilled to announce the publication of “Waiting For Life,” a book for the developing Christian who’s trying to push past the basics and learn more about the fundamentals of Christianity and how life in Christ works…even dealing with the setbacks. It’s the result of about four years worth of work, pulling together some of my old sermons, blog posts, and other writing into a set of short chapters that tackle topics the emerging Christian might find helpful. Things like:

  • What’s this “grace” business about?
  • What does faith really look like?
  • Is there really a devil?
  • How can I possibly forgive someone who did something so wrong to me?
  • Is it OK to doubt?

When I was an emerging Christian myself, I didn’t have a guide to help me along the path. I had to learn a lot myself, until I came across some sages–real giants in Christ–who were huge helps in my journey. I wrote “Waiting For Life” so that nobody else has to find their own way along the path–it’s the “trail guide” for the Christian who wants to push deeper into the faith and learn what Christmas is really all about.

If you’ve enjoyed tagging along on the journey with me in this blog so far, you might like to dive deeper yourself. Pick up a copy, leave a comment, let me know what you think! And God bless you in your exploring!

Love is Patient and Kind

Love is patient and kind. Love is not jealous or boastful or proud or rude. It does not demand its own way. It is not irritable, and it keeps no record of being wronged. (1 Corinthians 13:4-5)

Happy Valentines’ Day!

Before leaving the office, I texted my bride and my daughter to see if I could treat my two valentines to takeout dinner tonight. I received word that S. wanted Panera, and Mary wanted Indian from the place we like in Kingstowne. So I dutifully navigated to Kingstowne to pick up the Indian–man, the traffic was atrocious! It was as if everyone else in Northern Virginia, for some reason, wanted to go out for dinner tonight. Imagine that!

So it took f-o-r-e-v-e-r to get there, and of course the restaurant was mobbed–I couldn’t even get in the front door for a minute. Scooped up the takeout, headed back to the car, and started off for Panera. Now, 99.9% of the time we go to the one in West Springfield, so I drove there, enduring every red light known to man, with our dinner cooling in the back.

Only to find…huh. There’s no order here for us. On texting to find out what was up, only then did I learn…she’d put in the order for the Panera in Kingstowne. Yep, the one about 50 feet away from the Indian place. The one I never think about because we almost never ever go there.

So, backtrack another 15 minutes, park, await food, drive again… It’s late, I’m getting thirsty and hungry, I’m tired after a long day, and I have to backtrack and drive all over because she didn’t tell me which Panera to go to?!?!? Like I’m supposed to read her mind?!?!?

Or…

I can feel Jesus shushing me. This isn’t about you and your inconveniences, you dope. This is about an evening sharing love. And yes, even though everything good gets opposed, the love of your marriage is worth far more than the inconvenience of driving an extra half hour. In these moments of frustration or annoyance, we have a choice: we can react, or we can choose to respond in love.

The Indian was a bit cool by the time we got to it, but it still tasted good. And being able to spend a positive, loving evening together, instead of getting angry or blameful, is worth far more than the ability to be “right,” or to put on an injured face. Because love is patient and kind, and refuses to keep score. And that’s more important in the end.

“Can You Really Be Christian and Support This Regime?”

“Do not take advantage of foreigners who live among you in your land. Treat them like native-born Israelites, and love them as you love yourself. Remember that you were once foreigners living in the land of Egypt. I am the Lord your God.” (Leviticus 19:33-34)

You might not have noticed it, but the recent change in Administration in the United States has occasioned a little bit of comment on social media. I know, shocking, right?

Recently, a non-Christian friend of mine posted this question on social media. He quoted Leviticus 19:33-34 and asked (in part), “Christian friends – what do you think about this? Can you really be Christian and support this regime?” I was struck by the genuineness of his question. He genuinely seemed to be coming from a place of trying to understand Scripture and what Jesus would have taught, instead of merely trying to make a political point. In hopes of meeting him at his place of honest searching, I tried to respond: what would be a Christian response to that? Here’s a slightly expanded version of what I told him.

I start from a place of affirming that Christ came to call humanity back to a full relationship with God, and that through grace and his death on the cross, the path back to God is open again for you, me, and anyone else to choose it.

Nowhere in what I just said–indeed nowhere in the Gospels–do we see Christ coming for the Republican party, or for anything having to do with temporal political power. In fact, he taught in Mark 12:13-17 that we’re to render appropriately to the powers that be, but that’s not the same thing as his core message of repentance and the kingdom of God–not at all. And so I as a Christian should obey the laws of my country, but my focus needs to be on God. I do that in part by seeing the essential humanity in everyone, the trace of “let us therefore make humanity in our image,” that started so long ago.

Changing my focus to God means seeing, honoring, respecting all of humanity, without regard to immigration status. But it’s essential to remember that at its heart, Christianity isn’t a call into politics, in either direction. Instead it’s a call back into holiness, back into one-ness with God the Father, who created all that we are. Part of what confused the Hebrew people of the time of Jesus was that they were expecting a political messiah, one who would demolish the Roman state and institute a new world order in political terms. Jesus came to open the door to a new world, but it wasn’t the one we were expecting: it wasn’t a political door, but a spiritual one. There’s a distinction that needs to be made between the two.

And so, Christ came for everyone. He came for me, he came for you, and he came for the immigrant, with or without papers. He came because we are of absolutely incalculable worth to the Father, and that same God who bemoans our human weaknesses still loves us enough to send his son to die for us. That’s the Christian message, of hope and love for all humanity. That’s what Christ still speaks into the current morass: not preferring one party over another, but honoring the institutions that exist while working to save lives, one at a time, for the Kingdom.

Visiting College Boy

This past weekend we had our first chance to go and visit College Boy, seven weeks into his freshman year. It was so good to see him–he slept in a little Saturday morning, but still was sitting on the steps by the parking lot waiting for us when we pulled up. Lots of hugs, and in many ways it was like we hadn’t been gone.

And yet it was different. He’s maturing in his own way: he took himself out to buy new running shoes, instead of coming to us asking for us to buy them for him. He’s also learned already, as he told his sister, that “In high school, they just expect you to know stuff. In college, they expect you to put it together.” If he’s figured out that secret already, and can apply it, then he’s in good shape for the next three years.

Lots of time together throughout the day: in his dorm room, then to lunch at a place he’d always wanted to try but was too far to walk, and then to Wal-Mart to load up. Evening spent with him and his roommate, enjoying the free bowling, billiards, and ping-pong at the student center.

In the late afternoon, as the ladies relaxed, he and I sat for awhile as he showed me You Tube videos he’d found funny. In that hour, as we shared Internet laughs, it was like he’d never left and was still coming to me to show me something funny he’d found online. I savored that connection once more.

And yet it was different. Around 9:30, he announced that he was tired and ready to turn in. When we asked if we should come back in the morning for brunch, or just go home without seeing him, he said, “You can just go home.” Our brief time was over, and, like a dream, didn’t get to last to the morning.

We have these little tastes of love, these little moments of joy, and the disappointment we feel when they pass remind us that this isn’t where our souls are meant to be. One day, our joy will be complete. Until then, we have the imperfect–the quick visit, the touches of grace–that can only hint at the spectacular wonder we’ll savor when we’re all together with Christ forever.