Jesus knew that the Father had put all things under his power, and that he had come from God and was returning to God; so he got up from the meal, took off his outer clothing, and wrapped a towel around his waist. After that he poured water into a basin and began to wash his disciples’ feet, drying them with the towel that was wrapped around him. (John 13:3-5)

As you can see from above, the word I got really pumped about the other night was “so.” This passage starts off with a declaration of Jesus’ power. Who he was. The Bible says that God put everything under Jesus’ power. Jesus would be returning to God. You’d expect that proclamation to be followed by Jesus’ rights.

Wishes.

Dreams.

But it’s not. It’s followed by the story of one of the most humbling (and humiliating) acts of service that could be performed by a person within the culture of the New Testament.

If you are a follower of Jesus and truly believe He was who He said He was and did what the Bible says that He did, then there is no doubt that in this situation, Jesus was clearly top dog. He was the big guy in the room. If anyone had reason and means to force His will on others, it was Jesus. Yet that’s not what He did.

Jesus used His power as a platform for service.

That’s a really convicting example to me as a Christian leader and I think just to all of us as followers of Jesus in general. Chances are that in one situation or another, we have a position where we have some power and influence. Our culture says that we need to use that to abuse those under us and take more control, more prestige, more money, more everything.

Instead, though, the way of Jesus teaches us that when we have power, when we have the cash, when we have the prestige and the eyes of everyone in the room, that we need to leverage that for service of others and service of the kingdom of God.

That’s just what you do when you’re top dog.

I believe that in way more areas than we probably realize, that each of us have a “God box.” They are the extra parameters (intentional or unintentional) that we place around God, as if He needs to move and act the way we say He should move and act.

I’m being a little convicted recently that mine is that God needs to act in a logical way that “makes sense.” You know, with a pattern. The way things always work. And that’s great… in fact, I think that’s the way God has created the world. I believe God has placed patterns and principles into our lives that we can count on. I think God gave us wisdom and common sense, and we need to use both as we live and serve Him.

But I also think that I’m guilty of living in that world way too much. As I’ve been reading and thinking through many of the stories in the Bible, God clearly demonstrates that He has a flair for the miraculous. For the things that don’t “make sense.” He rescues Israel from enemy armies. He tells a 100 year old man to sacrifice his only son and then provides a ram for sacrifice instead. He makes axeheads float and cures people of diseases. He makes the little bit of flour and oil that a widow had last for seemingly forever. He even raises the dead. And all of those don’t even account for the miracles we see performed by Jesus or by the apostles in the early church of Acts.

I’ve come up against a situation in my life right now where the logical, “sensible” thing to do is to panic. To get scared. But yet, I’ve got this sense that God is saying, “Don’t worry. Watch me provide.” I have no idea how. Or where. Or when. Did I mention how? But I have a sense that God has promised to be a provider for me in a big way in this season. Even if that doesn’t always “make sense” to me through the way I see the world.

I always want to live a wise life. I think that’s honoring to God. And I certainly never want to presume on God, holding Him to things that He hasn’t promised. That’s definitely not honoring. But in that, I also want to make sure that I’m creating space; space where God can move and act in the most unexpected (dare I say, miraculous?) of ways. I’d hate to miss out on God doing something amazing in my life all because I was too close-minded to the possibility of Him working in a way that I didn’t expect. Instead, I want to honor God with a life that follows after His wisdom, and a prayer life that demonstrates my continued belief and confidence that if He is willing, God can certainly do something that doesn’t “make sense.”

And I am definitely okay with that.

No prayer requests.

No words.

Nothing.

Just silence and listening to God.

I have never once really considered myself a person who is a great listener to God. I’ve met some people in my life who are. But I don’t think I’m one of them. My guess is that is partially just something that some people are better at than others, but my guess is also that I struggle because I quite simply don’t shut up enough. I shared from stage at our campus this week that in my own life praying to God, 99% of my time is spent talking, and the other 1% is me gathering my breath or my thoughts so I can do more talking. But of course, just like in any relationship, if the disparity is that high in communication, chances are the relationship is not very healthy. You would never want to be in relationship with someone who literally never listened to anything you had to say.

Especially if you are God. And the person you are speaking with is not.

So I’ve been making a conscious effort to listen this week. I missed one day, but overall, I’ve stuck with it. And here’s a few things I’ve discovered.

1. I’ve got a lot of noise in my life. I don’t know too many people that would say, “Yeah, my life is pretty much a bed of roses. I’m never stressed, and I’m never too busy.” Everyone’s busy. We’ve got stuff we’re concerned about. I’d certainly agree with that. But stopping to listen has been quite a chore, not so much in finding 10 minutes, but in keeping my thoughts quiet for those 10 minutes. Even after sitting in silence for several minutes, I still find myself struggling to get that song out of my head, or to let go of that thing that frustrated me earlier in the day, or to quit letting my mind wander to (in the grand scheme of things) meaningless, mundane, stuff. It’s incredible to me how much “noise” I have in my life that’s vying for my attention, and is no doubt interfering with my day-to-day activities and relationships far more than I ever realize.

2. God’s agenda with us is always love. This is something that struck me in a big way once when doing a similar silence exercise a while back, and I think it’s just as true here. I don’t know that I’d say I’ve heard from God a lot over the past week, but many (if not most) of the times I feel I’ve caught just a faint whisper of His voice, it’s been an image of love and peace for me, His child. I feel like we often trot out trite cliches about God’s love, but never really let it set in that it’s true… God really does love us. Even when he offers us discipline and correction, it’s done in the image of a loving Father (Hebrews 12:5-6), and it always results in something that is for our benefit in the long run. But I’ve just been really taken aback by how many times I’ll start my time of silence by saying, “Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening,” and I feel like God’s response is “I love you, and that’s all I want to share with you today. Soak it in. I love you.”

3. God’s got a different time frame in mind than I do. Again, I don’t think this is a revolutionary thought. If the Bible is clear on anything, it’s that God is definitely not bound by our own constraints of knowledge, time, or possibility. But it’s been something interesting at play in my time of silence. I’ll sit down, and I feel like God should speak immediately. As soon as I say, “Speak,” I feel like God should, you know, start speaking. But He doesn’t necessarily. And I think it’s because He works on a totally different time frame. God wants us to enjoy our time together. I’m sure He does. For me, though, it’s an honest struggle. I want to get to the next thing or do the next whatever. And that probably speaks to my own misaligned priorities, but I think it also speaks to the fact that God’s not in a rush. He’ll reveal what He wants, when He wants. But in the meantime, He just wants us to rest and enjoy being in His presence.

Through this whole experience, I’ve been really challenged by something Mother Teresa said:
“When I pray, sometimes I speak. But most of the time, I just listen.”

I truly believe that even though I can’t necessarily feel or detect it, every time I spend a few minutes in silence before God, my relationship with Him grows stronger. It’s my prayer that for those of us who are struggling with that that we might be reminded and encouraged about that being the case.

How about you, Suncrest? How’s your listening time been going?

The biggest focus point for us at Suncrest is that we are a church that is used by God to change lives. I’m personally excited over the next year at the Highland Campus about getting intentionally involved in our community to affect and change lives in a really tangible, personal way. We want to form some partnerships with people and organizations in our community to provide care and resources that no one else is offering simply because we want to give life and hope to the broken, hurting, and troubled in our small corner of the world.

I love the message of this song that we sing because it reminds us that as followers of Jesus, our central mission is the very thing that Jesus preached: to bring God’s kingdom into our world, into the here and now. That’s our job. That’s why we are here. And I’m excited to rally around that mission this year in a big way.

One of the things that I’m hoping to do a better job with over the next season is prayer. I think I’ve posted on here several times about how a lot of times I think my prayer life feels like two awkward kids dancing at a junior high formal event. And thinking through that, I’ve taken some time here at the beginning of the year to read through some passages, listen to some people I really respect teach and talk about prayer, and read a book or two talking about prayer.

Here’s the tension that I’m coming across. My good friend Andy (Stanley) talks about faith and prayer in a refreshing way, saying that faith isn’t something that holds God captive. I’ve heard messages and teaching in the past that talks about how if you have enough faith and ask God for something, then God’s gonna answer your prayer simply based on your faith. You can pray for a job, money, sickness to go away, for her to call back, whatever, and God just does it because you have the faith.

Andy says that’s wrong, and I’m certainly in agreement with him. The Bible does not show a pattern of God simply doing things because people prayed with faith (though praying with great faith is certainly honoring to God). That view on prayer/faith really makes US God, as it simply makes God bound to whatever we may ask. And of course, everyone knows that isn’t right. God isn’t here to act as our servant. Not to mention the incredible chaos that would ensue with God answering “yes” to eveery prayer made in faith by well-meaning Christians. It would be just like when Jim Carrey’s character says “yes” to prayers in the movie “Bruce Almighty.”

But on the other hand, I’ve been greatly challenged by a book I’m reading right now called “The Circle Maker” by Mark Batterson. One of the most challenging things he talks about is simply saying that bold prayers honor God. If we only pray about things that make sense to us or seem possible, that’s not very God-honoring at all. Batterson talks about circling the promises you feel God has made to you (some within Scripture, some just a sense you have in your own spirit), and continuing to do that until God answers. I like that. And I definitely find it inspiring. And when you combine that with parables Jesus tells of God rewarding persistent pray-ers, it seems like there’s something true to that as well.

I’m just feeling a tension between those two extremes; looking at prayer both as an alignment in our hearts and humble submission to a God who already knows what He is going to do, and also prayer as a bold “storming the throne of God” asking for what we feel like we need. I think the answer lies in looking at prayer through the lens of humble submission to God, but also not being afraid to ask. I think there’s nothing more honoring to God than us coming before him like the leper in Matthew 8:3 – not presuming on God, but simply saying, “God, if You’re willing, I know You can do this. I hope You are willing, and I hope You would do this.”

But those are just my thoughts. And I may be off-base. Anyone else ever feel this tension? How do you guys think about prayer?

In Galatians 5:1, Paul writes that “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.”

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.

There’s no hidden agenda.

No strings.

No gotcha.

It’s simply a statement that it is for nothing else than our very own freedom that Christ has set us free. A statement that God cares about and takes pleasure in our freedom enough that even though it doesn’t get Him anything, He was still willing to die for it. Regardless of what we may choose to do with it.

Even just writing that, I feel like I need to attach a qualifier. Like, “God died for our freedom, but only if we will choose to do such and such or give this away.” Surely God didn’t die just so I could be free. And the fact that I would even feel that really bothers me, because I was raised in the church. In a great family. I went to Christian school. I went to Bible college. I have attended, led, and worked in churches my entire adult life.

But even after all that, I’m still struggling to accept that God delights in my freedom enough that He would freely give His own life just to offer it to me. No strings attached. But it’s a promise that I’m learning and I’m surely thankful for. Even to the point of tears.

It is for freedom Christ has set us free. And it is His pleasure that we would be free.

I was just struck by the ugliness of it all. I was struck by how opposite that attitude is to the attitude that Jesus asks me to have; instead of an attitude of selfishness and entitlement, He invites us to all experience the freedom of sacrificial love.

In the moment, I knew that. And I took a few minutes to pray this morning and to ask God to help me deal with the evil and darkness right there inside of me. And thankfully, it was a prayer that He immediately took delight in answering.

—————–

I have a friend who currently lives in another country halfway around the world (that is hostile toward God) and she is working to share the gospel with people there. Her desire is to share Jesus not just with the country’s citizens, but also her friends and co-workers from all nations and walks of life that she’s had the opportunity of meeting over the past few months. Now, in this way that I could never fully explain or understand, I feel a sort of kindred spirit with this friend. A few years ago, I too, packed up my things and moved off to a new place where I didn’t know anybody, know who I would meet, what I would experience, what I would do, or even if I would like it there. I would never say that my decision to do so is in any way equal to hers; I have the deepest level of respect for her desire to serve the kingdom across governmental, linguistic, and cultural barriers that I can only imagine. But nevertheless, I feel this strange connection with a friend doing her part to serve the kingdom of God in another place.

And today, this friend shared a blog post online where she observed things were a little difficult in her life right now. It’s December, and for the first time she finds herself feeling far away from home, separated from the friends and family that she loves. In the midst of that time, she noted that she was making the Christmas season all about herself; her traditions, her time with family, her time and right to celebrate Christmas how she always had with people who were dear to her. I think that if we’re honest with ourselves, we all can relate to some degree.

But, she observed, in reality this season is about remembering a God who chose the exact opposite. To make it not about Himself in the deepest way possible. Instead, the God of Christmas (and every other day, in fact) chose to make it about others. He gave up the comforts of heaven to be with fallen man. He gave up aspirations for political power, fame, and wealth. He gave up His life at the tender age of 33 so He could be beaten, bruised, and killed to save us from our sins.

This very morning, I was doing much the same thing my friend was. I was making life about me. My happiness. My comfort. My pleasure. The stuff that I want. I was forsaking the very picture of the God I serve all so I could lament my own selfish feeling of entitlement to happiness and always getting what I want.

The sad irony, of course, is that at Christmastime we remember Jesus dying to selfishness, entitlement, and all the things He deserved in order to save a people who were quite undeserving.

I just needed that reminder today. Maybe you did too.

It’s 35 minutes. And I know I’m probably stupid and naive for thinking that anyone will take the time to listen. But I sure hope you will because to me, at least, the issue of surrender is at the very heart of the Christian faith. I found this very convicting… but also found it very compelling.

You can listen to or download the message here.

It’s always a good day to die. (And if you’re not sure what that means, it’s because you haven’t listened to the message yet! DO IT!)

“Surrender is the difference between the crowd and the disciple.”

As a person who believes in Jesus, I don’t think that a life that only follows him when it is convenient to me is proper and fitting at all. In fact, I think such a life is a real mockery of all that Jesus stood for.

I think the lifestyle that demonstrates a proper understanding of who Jesus is and what he has done for us is a life that is defined by the word surrender. It is a life where our priorities are radically re-shaped in light of the cross and in light of the people that God has asked for us to be. Anything less just isn’t right.

On this Thanksgiving, I am very thankful that Jesus chose to surrender his life for me so that I can have a restored relationship with God and with my fellow man.

It’s my prayer that the amount of my surrendering would make sense in light of his.

Happy Thanksgiving.

Kudos to the team at Crossroads in Cincinnati for first introducing me to this song (and for playing it really nicely here)!

I just love this idea of abiding in God. The song is rooted in the message of John 15, where Jesus uses the word picture of a vine and branches to describe our relationship with Him. Just like when we disconnect a plant from it’s source of life (roots, a vine, a bush, whatever) and it dies, the same thing happens in our relationship with God.

I wander around so aimlessly in much of my life. I get frustrated. I get bitter. I get angry and confused. I experience depression and sadness. And why? If I’m really honest, it’s because I haven’t done a great job of connecting myself to the Vine. I’m disconnected from Jesus, my Life Giver, and it’s resulting in a lack of life in a lot of other places. Conversely, when I’m connected and growing in my relationship with Christ, things seem to line up. That’s not to say that life gets better or that good things start magically happening. It’s more to say that when I’m connected to my Creator, my reaction is different. Instead of reacting in wrong and negative ways to things happening around me, I start to experience the full and abundant life that God wants to offer to me. And all of a sudden, I feel like my life is bearing fruit that’s more in line with the kind of life God wants me to live.

I guess if I could challenge each of you with something on this Friday, it would be for you to really make an effort to engage in a relationship with Jesus and to truly connect to the Giver of Life. This song is such a great prayer for me, and I pray that it would be true for you as well; that you would find the words of Jesus to be sweeter, nearer, and dearer in your life this weekend and for all the weeks, months, and years to come.