peering through the pigs

I could not see the woman who was handling my order request. She was on the other side of the pigs. A whole curtain of piglets were hanging upside down between us. There must have been 20 piglets, and 10 lambs hanging there, freshly dressed and cleaned for public consumption as New Year's approaches. The store was so full of people that you could not move down the aisles. I informed Brenda when Jake and I got home, that I refuse to set foot in that grocery store again, until January 2nd. But the wall of pigs was amazing. You literally could not see or talk to the butchers on the other side of the pig curtain. They had to separate several of the pigs to peer out and get your order. Me? I just wanted some ground beef so that I could grill out some hamburgers! Jake was impressed that when we checked out (finally) we received two gratis bottles of local wines to go with our purchases. One needs to be prepared in this part of the world for New Years, which is arguably the most important holiday there is in Slavic cultures.

Peering through the pigs, (Jake's words to be precise), paints an excellent picture of what celebration looks like in this part of the world. There is something super special about roasting a suckling pig on an open fire. It is considered to be the best all of possible celebration entrees. On the other hand I have never seen so many of them hanging at once.

I think Jesus enjoys our celebrating life, another year, relationships and community. Why wouldn't He . . . He is one who gave us the opportunity to peer through the pigs again. But most of all, I think He wants us to celebrate Him. Happy New years!

making music or history?

We went to the New Year concert of the National Philharmonic Orchestra last night. Johann Strauss never sounded so good. It was glorious! Close your eyes and it was more than easy to feel like you were in some large ballroom in Vienna in 1839. It was very moving. I have listened to classical music most of life (not exclusively of course), but this was the first time I had the opportunity to go to a concert and enjoy the experience live. Wow, what a difference.

I wonder what it would be like to create something that is played, reviewed, read or enjoyed 108 years after I die? Is that making music, or history? I think there is a good lesson here for me. Far far far too much of my daily energy goes toward . . . well, daily momentary temporary activities. Hey you gotta live . . . . But seriously, how do you step back away from the daily grind and see the overriding themes and movements (music remember) of life and our participation in the flow of history, how do you find/get/discover/receive this kind of perspective? I think we all desperately need it.

I am a hacker musician. I lead the worship in our burgeoning church plant here in Skopje. My 12 string guitar is known occasionally for making a beautiful sound, my voice even less so . . . but after last night, I am embarrassed to open the guitar case this morning. Unfortunately, Sunday's coming. So I am more than certain (well as certain as one can be see previous post) that if I make history it will not be with my guitar. It is more likely with my relationships. After the concert 7 of us went out for food and drinks and we sat and talked and sharpened one another until after midnight. I admit that I enjoyed the power and majesty of the concert more than the hard work of listening to people and facilitating them. But if I ever make history, then I need to be able to see that I will never play in the philharmonic orchestra, but . . . its down right weird how much people want to hang out with me. Its probably because they are trying to figure me out because I SO don't fit into any of their boxes, but still that's who I am and I am fairly comfortable in my own skin, long hair, earrings and all.

Now where can I get that perspective I need?

certainty about certainty

Of this one thing we can be certain, that there is too much certainty in our practice of faith. Homosexuality and abortion would be just two of such issues that we are far too certain about. I am not saying that our POV (point of view) is completely invalid. But I am saying that many of the Christians around the world do not agree with our oversimplification of most issues that have such high socio-cultural factors.

For instance, I am currently leading a congregation of Internationals in Eastern Europe. I have discovered that our Western European brothers and sisters do not agree with the standard homophobia of the United States religious right, nor do they view abortion in the tightly black and white frames that the Family in the USA views this subject. Our European Christians view both of these supposedly black and white issues with far more compassion (and ambiguity) than we Americans generally do.

Their compassion does not make them right and Americans wrong, but neither is their moral arrogance (certainty that they are right) remotely on the same scale as the American one. I find it appalling when I meet those who are the most anti-abortional and they can give me no biblical basis for it. I did not say that there was no biblical basis for an anti-abortion stance, but rather that few seem to be able explain it in a cohesive scriptural manner why we should be strongly against abortion. It seems that many of us have just accepted Dobson's position or someone else's position without doing any of the hard thinking ourselves. It seems that we have been influenced by the political religious right much more than we have by what God states about it. The online discussions about these matters are disturbing. Abortion is a far more complex subject than just killing the unborn. If we really think abortion to be wrong, should we not be more for adoption, and let that compassion lead our anti-abortion position? (Imagine actually doing something positive rather than just vilifying everyone who opposes your POV!) Our European Family would say that what we are for is much more important than what we are against.

Concerning the homophobia of the US church, our European Family just states the apparent truth of Scripture, that Jesus both loves them and died for them as well as me. How can I not be as compassionate toward them as any other "sinner", of which I very well may be the worse? I think Jesus would approve of this approach. The certainty that we have about our certainly, makes much of what we believe to be fact, suspect. Religious certainty as with any other certainty needs to be grounded in actual study, not what I am told from the sermon on Sunday nor what I hear on Christian radio (whatever a christian radio is).

I have to admit, that we have blended families, divided families, lost families, live-together families and every other type of family coming to our International fellowship. Some of you might say, "now I understand why that David has gone liberal on us" and some of you might think that the context I am working in has influenced my ability to discern the black and white of God's word. I am not nor has it, but I do think the Europeans are more mature than we Americans are, in that they are wise enough to see the love and compassion of God, and they are willing to model it and express it. I think it was my grandmother who said to me, that you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.

It seems that our certainty is tied to our feelings much more than our study and learning. I have feelings too . . . and strong ones frankly. One of those strong feelings is that I am married to an awesome woman . . . but it is rooted in 20 years of learning, not feelings only. Other than this, I am certain that I cannot be too certain about most certainties.

online living

The brave new world, where life is measured in bandwidth and gigabyte limits from your internet provider. We talk to our loved one's via the web and the handiest little program in the world called Skype. We buy Christmas presents, anniversary presents, and birthday presents, all via the web. We communicate through email about a 1000 times for frequently than through snail mail. We are able to "keep up" with American football, via iTunes and our weekly dosage of "NFL Game Day". I even took photos from my iPhotos program, created a photo book on the computer and then uploaded it to Apple, and they (for a fee of course) printed out the photos that I uploaded and placed them in the correct place in the book that I had created and then mailed them to our family just in time for Christmas. All of this happens via the web/internet.

It has changed the very manner in which we live, and I would generally consider most of the previous paragraph, positive things in our lives. We are much closer to family, and more importantly in much tighter contact with them, than before the web became such a part of our lives. I am what is known as an "early adopter" and this often leads me (us, we) to a richer fuller life. We are not interesting in going any other direction than toward more and better technology.

On the other hand, there is a potentially terrible price to pay for this online life. You can actually miss all the relationships that are right next to you. You can substitute talking to real people by maintaining online relationships and life. I don't really know people who do this on a regular basis, but I frequently caution myself in this area. Virtual living could easily become too much the real life, rather than real life being the real life. So I make a serious and honest effort, to close the computer, go outside and take a walk and breath real air, and talk to real people and live a real life. Virtual life is far too dangerous, because it is scriptable, and not nearly volatile enough to stretch and grow me as a person.

Soooooo . . . I'll see you later, it's time to take a walk outside.

lousy preaching - lazy preachers

My grandfather is convinced that I only work one day per week and that only for 30 minutes. In his estimation I have the easiest job in the entire world. Little does he know. Luke 2 . . . the great debate! It confuses the date of Jesus' birth! This text was the basis for Sunday's message. There was probably at least 10 hours lost on the problems that the Quirinius debate creates from this passage. Long problem short is that Quirinius did not become the "governor of Syria" until the year 6 AD. This significantly delays the dates of Jesus' birth and creates other problems as well. Its a real dilemma in the text.

Thankfully there seems to be a resurgence today of exegetical preaching in churches. Exegesis is basically understanding the text on the basis of the text itself. It often follows a verse by verse format and lets the text say what it says. This is a great way to release God's Word and let it be God's world . . . but it requires a large time frame and a concentrated study approach. Grandpa is wrong if he thinks a preacher only works 30 minutes per week . . . at least if we are talking about exegetical preaching. That is as hard of work as you can find anywhere. If you don't believe me, just try to solve the riddles of the dilemma presented above in relationship to Quirinius and the birth of Christ from the Gospel of Luke.

Eisegesis is the more common pattern of preaching where your own subjective understanding is read into a text, rather than searching for the objective meaning of the text. This is the kind of preaching I grew up with and results can be downright strange. I still remember churches that buried their communion elements after the service in order that no one take the elements "unworthily". Or pastors that got up and condemned women for speaking in church, or a hundred other such weirdism that come from not studying . . . although they had often memorized the passages, they could not understand the underlying intentions and meanings and plays on words that come alive for Greek and Hebrew students.

On the other hand, it seems that scholarly pursuits seem to wring passion out of the preacher until most of them have understanding of the text, but no longer understanding of the people they are trying to communicate that text TO! Herein lies the goal of most successful communicators today, to find the right balance between those two perspectives. Yet 25 years of doing this has convinced me that the listener is far more critical to the success of the preacher than the preacher himself or herself. If the listener is prepared to listen and learn and hear from God, then even a less than perfect product of communication still accomplishes much.

I think grandpa is wrong for the most part. There isn't much lousy preaching out there, and even fewer lazy preachers . . . it is simply too much work . . . the weak of heart give up soon. Maybe I will invite grandpa to speak for me next week in church.

The first noel?

She hates this song. There is no other way to describe how Heidi feels about playing this song in the worship set on Sunday. It is challenging in a number of ways, but I really want to include Heidi while she is here with us for Christmas break from college. I too get weary of playing each Sunday and the the weekly practice that goes into leading a worship team. Frankly, I am in way way over my head here . . . but what are you to do, when you are the only who plays?

Sometimes my spiritual life feels this way . . . that I am in way over my head and that I have no business what so ever being involved in the ministries that I am leading. As I heard it said once last year by some pastor, "My gifting and skills have carried me much further than my character can sustain me." This is generally a true statement. I can understand that Heidi does not want to play a song that is beyond her skill levels. Unfortunately, I feel that I live beyond my skill level almost every day.

I wonder what God's plans are somedays, when He has us out there on the edge and working way beyond our abilities. I know that many of you may want to spiritualize this and suggest that this is where God wants us to be, in order for His power and glory to shine. But don't you think that incompetence is not something that we should spiritualize? Don't you wish that your pastor would get up and tell the truth . . . that he does not have a real sermon prepared because he has been most unholy and sorely tried this week, and that to preach a message would be hypocritical? Or perhaps not. I know most of the people I work with, prefer not to hear the truth. They rather believe that I am 10 feet tall and bulletproof in a spiritual sense. What a sad day this is . . . when spiritual leaders have no place to turn to and no one to be honest with . . . on the other hand, Sunday's coming and you had better have something ready to go . . . or else.

The chaos of teenagers

The quiet orderly life pursued by many Christians is not obtainable by people who have teenagers. Peace of that nature when you have three teenagers is as elusive as a suntan in a snow storm. It just isn't going to happen. But let's be honest here, peace and quiet are way overrated. That is the stuff for mortuaries and funerals. If you want to live then embrace the chaos!

In case you can't tell, my kids are home for the Christmas holidays and I am in heaven (or as close as one gets while here on earth). I work in a funeral parlor. My office I mean is like a funeral parlor when the kids aren't home. Brenda is great fun and she makes me laugh, but we are so busy going opposite directions 3/4's of the time, that we don't see each other that much throughout the day. But when the kids are home, I can't get a single thing done and I love it.

And it's even better now that they are old enough to go with me and hang, while I am working with people or stuff. It is wonderful to have them along, and to go along with them as they do stuff. I did that tonight and I met some lovely people that I had been trying to find for a long time. I can't get a single thing done and it's wonderful, and being together is just simply the best.

the midwives are coming - part 2 dva

It was a wild party. What do you expect with 30 midwives here? The house smells like a pack of Lucky Strikes this morning. Even though it is cold out, we opened the doors and windows and aired it out. But with 15 people smoking non-stop for 2 plus hours . . . it's going to take longer this time than usual to air out. Shoot by the time we get the smell out of the house, we will have another group here and it will begin again. Anyhoo here in this photo you can get a sense of how crowded our house was last night . . .















But that is what relationships look like when you are dealing with non-praying people . . . it took a long time for us to determine that we wanted nothing to stand in the way of relationships at a human level. What that means in the end is that none of my life preferences (smoking, drinking, dress, language, sexual orientation, etc, etc) can ever take priority over relationship.

. . . . and you can see from these two photos how much fun they were having playing games and laughing together . . .















It was clear and obvious how much these ladies love Brenda and so when it came time for the most important moment of the night, the midwives were listening so carefully to her testimony. It was the only five minutes of the entire evening when it was quiet. The rest of the night was total bedlam in typical Macedonian fashion. Here is a photo of Brenda giving her personal story of God.


















I hope that you will join in with us praying for these girls . . . who are such lovely people, but so far from the Savior.

here come the midwives

I am still trying to figure out why a man would become a midwife, but we know two! They along with who knows how many other midwives are coming to our house in about 2 hours. This evening may prove to be a little frightening. Brenda teaches evangelistic English classes at several local hospitals, but only to midwives. The other nurses get a little bent about it, but these folks work hard at learning English, and we are thrilled that they are reading from the Gospel of Luke in order to do it.

CAMA services started working with the nurses here in Macedonia 7 years ago, and the relationship just keeps getting warmer and warmer. Some of them have actually come into the Family and our sincerest prayer is that far more do. Brenda is in high demand as a native English speaker who teaches English, and there are other hospitals asking (demanding!) for her to come. Unfortunately, she is already beyond her maximum load work-wise and simply has no more possible hours left to teach. Anyone want to come work with us? We will put you to the grind immediately :-)

This evening may be a little frightening because I don't think we have ever had so many women in our house at one time before. As time wears on here in Macedonia, more and more I am becoming known as "Brenda's Husband". Most people don't think I have a name any longer, . . . just call me "Brenda's Husband." My wife may be the most well known foreigner in the whole country. She teaches everywhere, and people don't care who I am until they realize that I have some connection to their beloved teacher! That's what I get for living on the road. Tonight my primary responsibilities are to smile, serve coffee (or whatever other poison they want), keep the ash trays empty, and take photos. Maybe I will post one or two tomorrow. I still don't know what language we will be speaking with folks yet, because I have not met any of these midwives . . . but I can't wait to meet the two fellows . . . I am flabbergasted by a man who chooses to work in a uniquely female profession, and along side of only women. When do they ever have manly conversations? Haven't these fellows ever heard of Tarzan or Conan?

those who have bills to pay and those who don't

It was a typical Monday morning for me, grab some money, head to the exchange office and get those Euros changed into Denars, and then off to the post office where you pay all your bills in one place. Like I said it was a typical Monday morning and the typical crowd was sitting at the entrance to the post office . . . sitting mostly on cardboard boxes. I have always wondered why they beg for money in front of the Post Office?

At times I can be really slow and not very bright . . . and while I was counting my change after paying my bills, it finally occurred to me why they sit in front of the Post Office. Its because those who have bills to pay, are people who have money. The ones begging are so poor, they have no bills to pay. "Not possible David!" you might say, but yet it is. They have no mortgage because they do not own the property where they have constructed their little house . . . they are squatters. They pay no water bill because they have no running water in their house . . . they steal it from someone else's house, or they get water from the river. They have no sewage bill, because they have no toilet in the house. They all use outhouses . . . if anything at all. They have no electricity bills because they are stealing the electricity from someone else nearby, or simply do without. Renegade usage of electricity is a huge challenge here. They have no heating bill, because they burn scraps, or once again do without. And finally they have no garbage pick-up charges, because they themselves pick through the garbage every day, week after week. Trust me, it is perfectly possible to live and have no bills, because you have no resources, and you do not have the basic necessities of life.

It has been said that America's poor are far better off than the poor elsewhere . . . and that may be more true than we realize. At least our poor have bills to pay. As I left the post office, who would have ever thought that I would be glad, really glad for all those expensive bills?

a bad moon rising

Sitting here in Croatia surrounded by mine fields; I was looking out my guest room window here on the Evangelical Theological Seminary campus, and the big fat moon is coming up over the Drava River. So no this is not a blog about Creedence Clearwater Revival's famous song from 1969, nor is it about the Fighting Fantasy Gamebook by Davy Stedham nor is it a blog about the rioting in France last year and this famous cartoon that was printed about it.

No instead it is about empowerment. As I am sitting here contemplating this moon and trying to see it's secrets, I am also in the middle of deciding to fail several students or not. These particular students have a history of doing the bare minimum and cutting the maximum number of classes, and pushing the limits to the edge, class after class. In fact I had two of them last year and it was the same story. So evidently no one, including me I must admit, has been enforcing the attendance and requirement policies of the Seminary. We are in fact, empowering these students to continue to be lazy and do marginal work.

On the other hand, they are some of the brightest and gentlest folks in the class. What a dilemma! I want to encourage their intellect and wonderful hearts, but the demands of life also require a measure of discipline in order to excel. One side of me says, "let the policies do what they were designed to do" and in general I agree with them. But what if the policies are incapable of accomplishing their intended goals, and in fact accomplish the opposite in certain students?

I was a marginal student at one point . . . not so much in college and later, but certainly in high school. In fact I was below average academically because of extreme laziness. Finally I found/got/was given some internal motivation and the rest is history. So I feel that a bad moon is rising, because I think I will have to let the consequences fall on them this time. I will let them appeal to the Academic Dean if they feel wronged. Did justice override mercy?

a crash of values

One of my Croatian students misspoke in his paper, and said "a crash of values" rather than a "clash" of values. But I think he was right even though he was wrong. Here we are having a "crash" of values. It is jarring and discombobulating and senseless and meaningless at first glance. Here there is no underpinning, no matter how weak, of anything remotely resembling a Judeo-christian value system. This is simply post-communist post-modern chaos.

From where I am sitting, the clash of values elsewhere in the world seems mild in comparison to the crash of values here. And then if you throw in the bible college mentality here on top of the post-communist post-modern its a train wreck! I sat in a faculty meeting yesterday . . . or rather I should say I was dragged to a faculty meeting yesterday (the Seminary here is trying to the woo the CMA to establish a school of Missions and Evangelism, and for some confused reason they thought that me attending the faculty meeting would convince me) . . . and I was horrified. Instead of resolving post-modern post-communist student challenges of the 2006-2007 school year, most of the meeting reminded me of where I did my undergraduate work many many many years ago. I kept expecting Beaver Cleaver to jump out of the closet. It was a 1940-1950's bible college lets make lots of rules atmosphere that in my estimation was a total fantasy/nightmare (depending on your point of view) for today's world.

It got me to thinking about change and culture and influence. All of these older folks on the faculty clearly thought the past was a place we should return to; a desirable place that had value for today. Then I started wondering why I so completely absolutely don't agree with them? Because I am actually pretty conservative deep down inside (somewhere). This created quite a bit of discomfort for me personally, because the older faculty wanting to go backwards were not but a few years older than me. So what is wrong with me? Why am I on such a different wavelength than many of my peers?

Then this morning I discovered the reason I am such a different wavelength than my peers. I don't think there is anything wrong with the current crop of students! I love this generation! When they are on fire for God, they rock! This morning clarified all of that . . . when I was headed to my classroom and one of the students came tearing up the stairs yelling for me to come, a student was terribly sick and they needed me right away. So I ran and we got her out of the bathroom and onto a bed . . . she had been throwing up blood and other things, and everything was a mess . . . and I haven't driven an ambulance in almost 20 years . . . and thankfully soon the local ambulance guys and gals arrived and took the student away to the hospital. And now I can tell you why I am not like my peers . . . because these guys prayed in my class for this student and prayed . . . we stopped no less than four other times in class to pray for this student . . . we cancelled another class, just so that we could pray for this student for the whole hour!! Thats why I have so much hope in this generation . . . they aren't much for rules, but man they are serious about relationships. I love it. Makes me feel like I am 22 all over again :-)

the Fayrene Principle

There are certain principles in life that beat logic to death with an ugly stick. Not too much is logical in Christianity . . . we are overwhelmingly full of paradoxes. We are strong when weak, we must die to live, we surrender to be victorious, we must serve to lead, we become poor to actually be rich, the greatest is the least and the least becomes the greatest, the first is last and the last is first and on and on we could go.

The Fayrene Principle is water dripping on stone . . . the stone always loses. It's not logical, but it is true. The steady dripping sum of water plus time will win over any stone. So I am trying to do this in leadership at multiple levels within our organization. I have in fact a doctorate in leadership, yet I "officially" lead nothing. I find that my influence and effectiveness has blossomed in leading without position or title. There isn't any apparent logic for it, but I can testified to the fact that it is working. It is most like the Fayrene Principle . . . and I think that this has great implications in mentoring, discipleship and evangelism . . . that the steady drip of love and care, plus time, can wear away the hardest stone. I wonder if this drip method can work higher up within the CMA?

second hand smoke - the gift of God

Yes, I am aware that North American's in general, and Christians especially hate smokers. That's too bad, Jesus really loves them. The anti-smoking campaigns of the West haven't had any impact here. Christians are just about the only people that don't smoke here . . . and to be honest, many Christians here smoke too. It is interesting for me to watch how we so easily spiritualize that which we don't like. I have had many Western visitors to my home over the years . . . and it is almost comical to see their faces when they realize that we allow people to smoke in our home . . . which really isn't our home right? It seems that Christians from many parts of the West, not only think that smokers are sinners, but we that allow people to smoke in our homes are sinners too.

I am starting to realize that many things I allow in my home, you might find very offensive, but I will save those for another blog-day. Today smoking is the gig . . . and for a very special reason which I will get to in a moment. To be honest, I love the smell of second-hand smoke. I am pretty sure that Jesus does too. Now as an ex-smoker I must be in the .001 percentile because I can handle second-hand smoke, and it does not make me want to smoke. Nor does it even bother me most of the time. Sure sometimes it gets super-old and my contacts are screaming grit between the eyes and all that jazz, but for the most part, I enjoy second-hand smoke.

In fact, when in North America, I generally go through second-hand smoke withdrawal, because I can't find anyone who smokes any more! It doesn't even help to go to bars anymore, because you can't smoke in there either!! Shesh! What is this world coming to?? Tell me! Now I will be honest that while I don't mind the smell of second -hand smoke in the air, I don't usually appreciate it hanging on my clothes for hours afterwards. OK, I am inconsistent, bite me. I still don't let that dislike keep me from hangin' with the smokers.

Brenda and I go places all the time where invariably we come out smelling like a pack of Winston Lights. That is where the people Jesus died for are . . . that's where we (all of us) are called to be, to go . . . but I have even heard missionaries say that "no one will ever be allowed to smoke in my house . . .." blah blah blah. It's got to be breaking Jesus' heart. My health is more important than the lost . . . hhhmmmm . . . the worst that happens to me at death is I get to go to heaven in a new body . . . you are right, that is horrible, can't have that, OK, no smoking around me, I want to live forever!!!! Somehow we seemed to have become confused about our role, calling, purpose, and destination here.

And what begs me to write this certainly-not-to-be-well-received-blog today? Well a miracle happened today. One of my students, Kosta, asked me out for a coffee after class. He wanted to talk to me about the subject of prayer that we had been discussing last week, and he was still puzzling over some of the issues. So we went out for a coffee, at the corner cafe-bar. There were 37 people in the cafe-bar counting Kosta and me, and 35 were smoking, including the waitress taking our coffee orders. Kosta and I spent about an hour in there . . . smoke so thick it was a cloud around us . . . taking about the dynamic process of prayer. We drank our coffees and paid our bill, got our gear and headed out of the cafe-bar. The miraculous event was that when we got outside and were walking down the street back to the Seminary, I realized that we did not even have the smell of smoke on our clothes! I know, its impossible. But tell that to those fellows in Daniel 3:27.

The coca-cola God

Darija was my student for one day. I saw her again last night at the church service here at the Synagog where I was preaching last night. She was my student only one day, because she can’t sleep, literally. She averages 2-3 hours per night . . . for the last seven years. But she did her assignment for the one day she was in class and she remarked that most of us have a coca-cola god. Or more accurately we treat God as a coca-cola machine.

“We put in our coin, get our preferred drink and go our merry ways. That is very easy to do. And because God is merciful and doesn’t punish us immediately, we just go ahead and repeat the process. Until one fine day, when we realize that we didn’t actually betray God, or damage Him, we damage ourselves. Although nobody was forcing us, we deprive ourselves of peace, joy and His presence.”

I admit that Darija got alot closer to the truth of the matter than I like to admit. But Darija mentions only the side of Christianity that is about what I receive. This week in class we are going way beyond that . . . into the enemies camp. Either we follow Christ or we are not Christian at all. And He is calling us to: “Love your enemies”, “Bless them that persecute you.”, Do good to them that hate you.“, ”Pray for them which despitefully use you and persecute you.“ Is there a single one among us who does this? Here in Croatia where war raged not long ago . . . where land mines are still around in abundance, these are not meaningless words on paper . . . these are fighting words.

Me? I haven’t experienced war and I have no enemies I think. So what does this mean for me? It seems that God is calling us to something so radical, that putting a coin in and selecting our favorite beverage is way too tame and lame. Do we even know what faith and trust in God that enables us to love our enemies looks like? Bonhoeffer did . . . they hung him. Me? I like the coca-cola version of God. Let’s face it, I am a soft Westerner who has never gone without, ever, of anything. Can I possibly be farther from the Christ of the cross?

Human knots

Today’s tasks was to untangle the human knots I had them form in class. I will include a couple of photos for you. The change in the group in the last three days has been amazing. The first day there was high frustration and yelling and hurt feelings. Contrast that with today where there was negotiation, cohesiveness and listening. It seems that these team building skills are working.





Unfortunately the knots in me and relationships around me don’t work out as easily. In the sermon on the Mount, Jesus says “Blessed are the peacemakers.” We usually think of this as people who are peaceFUL. They have peace and in that is the virtue we think. But we are to make peace. To be at peace with all men. This even sounds passive, but in reality, I can think of no more vigorous work than making peace. To be a peace-child or a child of peace is sacrificial work and effort.

But if I am to unknot my soul and my relationships, how can I not make peace? God’s Kingdom is one of peace. Read James again if you disbelieve me . . . chapter one and four are brutal on those who would wage war.

It is hard to suffer for other people, let alone die for them . . . yet that is what God calls us to. Why am I so resistant to that? Am I Christ's disciple or not? Life can be filled with human knots, real one's, not the kind that I created in class to make a point. There is clearly no option here . . . we have to work through it, no matter the personal costs.

knotting ropes and lowering rods of helium

As you can see from the photos below, my class is indeed tied up knots and trying to force helium rods to the floor. These were intentionally exercises in frustration in order to build teams and team-work.

I knew why we were doing these exercises, but life is rarely this clear. I find that I do not often practice honesty with myself or with God. If we do not do what God is calling us to do, or more simply put, if we don’t obey, then we aren’t believing. Yet we resist that judgement strongly. I often find a way to convince myself that actually I am obeying, when in reality I am not. Jesus says “leave all behind and follow me.” But we don’t. We rationalize it away and decide that Jesus is talking to someone else. He could not possibly be talking to me we think. Yet He is . . . and does. Hundreds of callings and commands and we pick and choose . . . or classify them as important and the unimportant. At least I do. You probably obey Jesus perfectly.

I am evading literal obedience at every turn. I have perfected the kind of double-speak that turns the commands and instructions of the Living God into whatever I want them to mean. It often sounds suspiciously like this . . . “What Jesus was really saying here is . . . .” Or something along those lines of sophisticated foolishness. When I try to avoid simple clean obedience, I find myself falling into ever deeper waters of ropes and rods, where things are much more complicated than they were ever intended to be.

hand to hand combat

I grew up in this world. The world of cheap grace. Where the idea and concept had been emptied of all significant meaning . . . grace means less than nothing when all you have to do is walk to the front f the church and acknowledge the obvious . . . that I am a sinner. Can this grace provide the forgiveness of sin? Really? Dietrich Bonhoeffer believed that this was the ruin of most Christians, or wanna be Christians.

It’s the fatal conception of the double standard - the maximum or minimum obedience required . . . it is the idea of absolute obedience to Christ versus minimal obedience . . . it is the question of how far can I go away from the Faith and still be saved from eternal punishment? In other words are you and I using Grace in order to follow our own wishes but still be “Christian” or are we being used by Grace because we are giving all for Christ? As Bonhoeffer stated, “The only man who has the right to say that he is justified by grace alone is the man who has left all to follow Christ.” Bonhoeffer’s suggestion was that most of us use grace to as a means to not follow Christ . . . yet be forgiven in the end. Hmmmm.

In the end it seems that grace which is cheap is religious myth. Lets face it, most of us want to follow Jesus, but on our terms. I even heard a missionary I work with say, “If I had to do such and such, I would just go home.” And I have heard many “Christians” in the USA, say “I will do what Jesus says, but He knows how limited I am.” These are not the statements of disciples . . . these are the statements of people sitting in a grill ordering lunch! Its like they are saying, “I can “do” christianity, but only with limitations and only on these terms.“

Our German guide toward discipleship summed it up completely when he said, “only he who believes is obedient, and only he who is obedient believes.” Ouch . . . and ouch again. This is hand to hand combat christianity. I am not sure I am winning. It seems that in my day to day walk, my bondage to myself wins more often than not. Cheap grace again.

Unthanksgiving Day

These are the rantings of a mad missionary. Mad as in crazy, luny, unstable, barmy or nuts. I find myself in a completely and totally anti-thanksgiving day mood. It’s not that I will not be able to pig out and commit the sin of gluttony . . . I can do that as easily here as I could in the States. It’s that I am separated from those I love the most. Thus I plan to petition the US government for a new holiday - Unthanksgiving Day. It should precede Thanksgiving day by a day or two for the best effect.

Some might petition the CMA to release me into early retirement after reading this, but at least I can maintain my “up frank” (another endearing misspeak by my English teacher sweet wife), e.g. transparency into my scarred soul to the blogging world (which is quite a bit of posturing BS for the most part).

Thanksgiving is a big holiday in my family. Christmas is OK and b-days are even less, but Thanksgiving has always been a big one for us. When I was a kid, Thanksgiving day was honestly alot of work, but it was fun family work. Thanksgiving day was always hog killing day at my grandparents farm.

While Granny was in the kitchen making a meal that would feed at least a 1000 people, the men and the boys would see to the demise of our humongous hog. I could easily burn the entire allotment of words for the remainder of this blog on stories from assisting disagreeable hogs into the next reality, but I will resist this strong urge.

So after dispatching the animal to Hog heaven, we would take a tractor and use the rear hydraulics to lift the immense lard-bucket off the ground. Then we would take pots of boiling water and pour over the animal to assist us in scraping the hair off. By this time the extended family had usually gathered and several tables were set up; one for making sausage and one for slicing fat. Obviously the meat parts headed for the sausage table and the thick (usually 6 inches or so) outer fat portions were on the other table.

The sausage table had a grinder or two attached and the goal was basically to cut the meat into small enough portions, in order that they could be fed into the meat grinder. Once ground, mixed and seasoned with tons of black pepper to Papa’s taste, then the sausage was formed into balls and cooked. When finished cooking, the sausage balls were put into Mason jars along with some of the hot grease and hot food caused the jars to seal as they cooled and this is how we preserved the sausage.

At the Fat table, each person received a long strip of fat and skin about 2-3 feet long and about 5-6 inches wide, and as I said earlier, they were often 6 inches thick. The goal here was to slice the fat into thin slices which were then gathered up and placed in 2-4 giant cast-iron pots that were sitting on open fires. We would literally boil the fat out of these thin strips and eventually the strips would become crispy and crunch . . . which we called cracklins. The oil was poured off and preserved and used as lard and cooking oil for the coming year.

The combinations of all these smells of sausage cooking, cracklins popping, wood smoke, etc on a cold Fall morning, with all my aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents in attendance . . . finally concluding in an incredible meal together after the hog was finally worked up completely . . . constituted Thanksgiving day in my childhood.

As I put our Short Term Team on the plane this morning heading back to the States for their thanksgiving (I had to restrain myself from climbing into the check baggage!), and as I contemplate that my three children are in Germany and the States, and as I realize that Thanksgiving day is going to be just another long work day for Brenda and I, . . . . . . . . was birthed the idea of an Unthanksgiving Day. While there is much that I am genuinely thankful for, like most days, there is also much that I feel acute loss for and that results in today . . . an Unthanksgiving Day.

escape or engage?

I confess . . . most days I want to escape rather than engage. I find it much more comfortable to sit back and pee and moan about all that is wrong about evangelicalism and the emerging post-evangelical movements, than it is to engage either of them. I want to see change, but cynicism and weariness crowd out my energy to be creative and helpful in the change process.

Birthing something new and dynamic is hard hard work. I wonder often if I have the reserves and sustainability at 44 years of age to affect real change any longer. Change for change’s sake doesn’t interest me in the least, but necessary life-giving change still peaks my interest. But I find myself expending so much de-constructive energy that I have little left to engage at key intervals that might prove more positive in terms of results.

I have been asking myself why this is today. The conclusion that I reached wearied me more. Terminal disappointment in leadership, coupled with a complete unwillingness to step into those leadership roles myself, creates a impenetrable forcefield that holds me locked in this unbearable emotional malaise that frustrates and negates real progress.

I need a new paradigm of perspective. I need some of my wife’s optimism. I need some of that PollyAnna in my attitude and heart. I need a vacation.

crowding God out

Do we crowd God out? Do we have such powerful skills and words and strategies that we crowd God out? Have we educated God out of our hearts? Whatever happened to signs and wonders? Where is God? Do we converse people into Faith? IF we talk people into being saved, into receiving Christ, don’t we then have to keep convincing them? Do we have a theology for the supernatural? Is there room for God to show up all?

Guy Phanz was asking questions like these to our missionaries. That first question is just a killer for me. With all my skills, education, experience, polish, practice, gifts and such . . . it is more than easy to crowd God out. In fact, it would be quite easy to not need God at all! What a horrifying thought! But the more I think about it the more certain I am that it can happen. There are many out there with far more of everything than I have . . . far more gifts, skills, education, experience, and if I can crowd God out, their temptation to do the same must be all the more difficult.

So how can I be certain that I am not crowding God out . . . at any step along the way? Should I pray more and prepare less? Should I turn my degrees back into the schools that issued them to me and read the KJV from now on? Should I return to the roots of my childhood and stand before the congregation in two days with nothing prepared and just say what comes to my mind and call it holy? I think not . . . no, no and no.

I think preparation is good . . . at the very very least it is a way that God consistently changes me. I think planning has a place too . . . chaos never helped anyone see God. Yet, I want more . . . of God . . . in all that happens. Lord Jesus help me find the way! I way to see Him work and intervene and be with His people, His children and I never want to crowd Him out. But frankly our whole structure of church thingy might be more of a roadblock than a help? You gotta believe God wants this even more than we do . . . or our theology is nothing more than quicksand.

Who are you?

Do you have the backing from Heaven to do the tough stuff? I think this is a powerful question and one I have been mulling over for days. You will never be what God is calling you to, until you come to an understanding of what and who you are. If you don’t know what you are called to do, then you will not have the authority to do what needs to be done. This is the logic behind the question.

So once again, do you have the backing of Heaven to do the tough stuff? Do you have the Truth and Power of God backing you in your work and walk? Do you live in the Power of His Spirit? Well I can’t answer for you obviously, but I can answer for me, and many times the answer is no. I crowd God out completely some days with my frenetic pace and busyness. The hours seem to drain away faster and faster and my panic grows and expands. Peace flees as fast as the hours do and in the end, it’s all for nothing, because without the backing of heaven, by the Power of the Spirit, we are wasting our time. “But God still sends me every blessing Dave“ you say.

Stop christianizing the American dream! This is not about you. You are called out and separated to do the will of God! Not your will, God’s will. I hear testimonies all the time and they are almost invariably about how God gave them some part of the American dream. It is all too often about their wants and their desires . . . all to seldom about God’s wishes and desires. This is about the King, the Kingdom, the wants of Heaven, the Pleasures of the King, and my small role in the whole affair.

Who am I? An American consumer? Or a child . . . and citizen of the King and Kingdom? Some days I don’t know.

The glass pecking bird

This little animal was tenacious. Trying so hard to get inside. It would peck on the glass outside our meeting room, trying to find a way inside. It was more than a little distraction and irritation. Now this bird was not a woodpecker, it was a glasspecker. Tap tap tap tap, fly a few feet over, tap tap tap tap fly a few feet up tap tap tap tap fly a few feet down and tap tap tap tap.

During our two days of meetings here, this happened during each of our meetings. While Guy was teaching, this glasspecking bird was trying to get inside! Now it was not trying to get it because of all the interesting people and noise going on in the the room there. It was trying to get in because it was convinced that it’s home was in that room. There was a nest in the heating duct there and the bird was just trying to get home.

I thought that very fitting and a great illustration of the world today. They (the world) are not going to want to come in (the church) because of the noise we make or the interesting people that are inside. They will want to come in, when they believe that their home is inside. That is why cafe’s are much more like a church than church is in today’s world. Cafe’s and coffee houses are places of conversation in today’s world . . . places where real relationships can flourish. That is what church is supposed to be like. A place were conversations happen, real communication occurs and listening and sharing happen in equal measure. Those are the places where people are tapping on the windows trying to get in, instead of our churches.

Our churches too many times are places were we talk and then we expect people to listen. Where we make rules and codes of behavior that separate the good guys from the bad (when in reality we are all bad guys). I am tired of church and the church. I think I am going to make cafe’s a part of my daily routine to meet real people and have real conversations. I want to find a home. Tap tap tap.

God wants it more than you!

Guy Phanz is here with us in Slovenia and he had a rocking thought that he shared with us . . . if you think you want it more than God, then you are driving it, not God. What he meant by this is scary dangerous way out there kind of thinking. If you want your church to grow more than God does, or if you want to accomplish your mission more than God wants to accomplish it, then you drive it, you run it, you plan it, you live it and you take the credit for it. What an utterly powerful insight into how we do church, with our five year plans and how tight we want everything to run and the demographic studies we do, and the materials and conferences we bought last year, all with the idea of making this thing succeed. But what does God want? Really want? I don’t think most of us have a single clue.

Guy suggested last night, that when you get to the end of yourself, then you are ready to give your plans, you stop driving your own plans, then God can speak. When you know what God has to say, then obey at any cost! Let go of your plans . . . God wants it more than you want it. “It” being what He wants, not what you want. This is so not American/Western thinking. it was pretty revolutionary conceptually for me too, the anti-western dude.

Could we be driving the church so much so, that Jesus isn’t even in the church? Guy suggested that often we are . . . he gave Rev. 3 the church in Laodicea as an example of Jesus outside the church knocking hoping to get in . . . this was the rich church that had it all. Guy asked this question, “Do you think the world deserves to see a church that is grass-roots, Jesus driven instead of top-down driven?” This would be the church that Jesus was driving, not me or you.

In the end Phanz suggested that the way to know if we were doing this successfully or not was this; can you truthfully say this: “I don’t want to leave my fingerprints on this church, I want a church that only God could have done it.” Man that is a revolutionary idea in an age when personal accomplishment, bigger is better, numbers are important, performance mentality rules the world that we live in today. Even our organization measures us by this standard, but let’s face it, we measure us by this same standard. This idea represents an emancipation from the slavery of doing it ourselves, and riskiness of letting God do it . . . does He really want it more than us?

the fishyness of Italy

I get a bit weary because everyone tells me how lucky I am to get to go Europe. Someone just said to me, “Oh I have always wanted to go to Italy, I am so jealous!” Well I have spent the last two days driving through Italy, and you can have it. Brenda and I speak 1.5 words between the two of us in Italian, and last night’s dinner proves it.

It was an exhausting day, stuck in Milano for over 2 hours in stand-still traffic, and I was sick with weariness. Finally we got outside of Milano and at last found a hotel to stay in for the night . . . and I was starving for a REAL Italian pizza! They are always super thin and yummy. So Brenda and I walked to the pizzeria near the hotel and sat down and ordered (e.g. point and smile) pizza’s.

In about 8 minutes they were ready and we started scarfing them down right away, we were so hungry, not having eaten any lunch and now it is almost 9:00 pm! I hit it about the third bite, Brenda hit hers on the fourth bite . . . anchovies!! Uuuurgh. We both, unintentionally, ordered pizzas with anchovies on them. Ye gads!

You can have Italy, or any other country where I can’t speak the local language and can’t figure out what I am ordering.

Pub reflections part 2

The cleanest place on earth - outside. The emptiest place - inside. I am pub researching again. It was a productive day for mission work, I got lots accomplished, even without my usual office tools to assist me. Not a bad day of work for being on the road. Now it's people watching time again.

It's a Monday evening and about half the pubs in town are closed. And the one's that are open are about half full. The one I am currently sitting in has exactly eight people in it at the moment including me. 50% men, 50% women, 7 out of 8 are smoking and one is getting his daily fix of second-hand smoke. Europe has not yet experienced North America's phobia about cigarette smoke. Europeans are more reasonable, plus they know that everyone is going to die, and few on their own terms.

Today as I was riding my bike on the pristine bike paths here, enjoying the amazingly clean air, I was trying to reconcile that with the behaviors that I see here in the pubs. Germany is considered one of the most aggressively Green countries in the world. They produce far less garbage per person than any other Country that I have ever visited (30+). You need an engineering degree here just to figure out the complex requirements for garbage separation. The ground is so clean, you could eat off of it. There is no trash, everything works perfect, runs on-time, is done with excellence.

This morning I went into a local eyeglass shop, because I had bent my sunglasses somehow and they were driving me crazy. The guy fixed my glasses for free, and then scolded me because the lens weren't clean! This obsession with clean, Green, and details makes Germany one of the most desirable locations in the world to live. But at a personal level, a spiritual level, you will not find a more bankrupt place.

This great country which has produced the most amazing musicians, and the premiere theologians of the last 500 years, and some of the greatest horrors of history, has no soul any longer. German is like the description Jesus gave the Pharisees in the New Testament, clean on the outside, but full of death on the inside.

But what about me? What is my soul like? Everyone is fretting about the political fallout of one Evangelical leader who sinned. My friends, all our Evangelical leaders sin every day, and that would include me. The pain I feel for this pastor is heart-crushing . . . I cannot imagine what he is going through. But I could go through the same gauntlet were my heart turned inside out for all to see. My family could experience censure and dismissal were my heart and thoughts made public. Frankly I think the same would happen to most of us were we honest, . . . and the rest are lying . . . to us and themselves.

So what is the difference in me and the great country of Germany? Not as much as I would like to think. If I do not keep and maintain a steady focus on God and His holiness, and a firm hand on my sinfulness and uselessness without Christ, then I would only need a day or two to become just like Deutschland.

Politics

This is a blog about politics. A blog about the Church and her obsession with politics. A blog about the Church that spends far more emotional energy, money and effort on politics than on world evangelization or church planting or the lost.

The reality is that we Evangelicals far more want to shape society with more laws and with political influence, rather than rub shoulders with old fashioned pagans and be Christ to them. As one good friend said to me today “Do you think we will ever learn in America that politics is not the answer and that we are not going to change the world by making more laws?” Alan said it all right there.

We want to legislate holiness and morality, both inside the church and outside. We are insolationists and isolationists. Culture and the world are tainted . . . well yes they are, and that is why they desperately need a little Salt. What they do not need are more laws nor political-religiosity.

I can’t recall a single verse in Scripture that encourages the slightest political ambition in the Body of Christ. No verses about legislating holiness via Federal laws nor verses about supporting one party over another. But there is that verse that calls us to prayer. “Pray for those in authority over you” (Dr.D’s loosey goosey translation). We have been given a mandate to pray, not stump for our political party. We are a spiritual party not a political one.

As I recall, the First Century Palestine Jews were expecting a Messiah to come and be their political answer for the challenges of their world. Jesus didn’t and does play that game. He wants me to BE salt and light, not VOTE for salt and light. The politic method of spirituality is a cop-out and a short cut to what we are called to be. The parallels between our society and first century Palestine are scary.

Am I against politics? Do I think it wrong to vote and be involved in the political process? Do I think my vote is nearly as powerful as the God I pray to? No, no and no.

"the polluting effect of contemporary culture"

The church is afraid . . . very afraid. It’s why church folks get involved in politics and home school their children to influence and protect from culture/society. But what is culture really? I have been studying this subject for years and it is a really difficult thing to get a handle on.

In a nutshell, culture is the absorption and reconstituting of experiences. de Certou describes it the “act of reusing and recombining . . . materials. Meaning is tied to the significance that comes from this new use.” The external influences of life are reworked in the heart, soul and mind, and then meaning comes from the new expressions of that recombining. These new expressions appear in the worlds we live in and they often are shocking and can be scary. We react and withdraw because we have not ingested and then reconstructed in the same manner. We do not understand why that boy has a purple mohawk, or why that girl has two metal bobs in her lip and four more in her eyebrows. We are confused by the anger in modern music, and the randomness of violence. And on and on it goes. It is a re-mix of meaning and values.

What a great opportunity for the church! An opportunity to express a Christian re-mix! What parts of the cultural reconstruction currently underway can be means and methods of being Christ to the world, and expressing Christ to the world? This is where we are called to LEAD! Unfortunately as one DS recently told me, he is trying to get his District out of the 1950’s and into the 1980’s. In his world that would be a success.

I, on the other hand, want to make a strategic jump to 2010 at the very least, and even further if I can. But I am finding that there are few I can even talk with about this endeavor because it’s just too scary, risky, threatening, hard, costly, etc, etc just to name a couple of the adjectives I hear. In a word we are afraid. Afraid of losing something, afraid of the present and the future, afraid that what we believe will be irrelevant in this new re-mix. (Maybe what we really are afraid of is that we will upset our giver base?)

On the contrary, what we believe is the only hope of stability and eternity that the exponentially rapidly changing present and future has . . . the ancient text holds up quite nicely in the modern world. We need to be on the lunatic fringe to be the fresh wind that the Gospel represents for our world. Who wants to visit the edge with me (and maybe set up camp for a while)?

"the edges are the seedbeds of the future"

As I said yesterday, I want to visit the edge, the 2010 of the church and mission. The “edges are the seedbeds of the future.” Not the far distance future, the near future. How do we experience Faith at the edges, and not lose it? How do we live it out and express it, and not get lost in the 1000’s of reconstructions?

There is little more threatening than change for those in the church. But without change, rigor mortis sets in and then they soon bury you. I was talking with the director of Black Forest Academy today about churches that should be closed. Rigor Mortis has set in; their ability (not to mention desire) to change is gone, has evaporated.

But those who oppose change generally seem to confuse content with expression. The Ancient text, the Ancient Story of Redemption, does not change. In fact the Holy Scriptures take a clear executionary view toward those who change the story (Rev 22:18-19). But the context of the modern world demands we find a way to exegete our world and communicate (expression) successfully within that modern world.

Taylor suggests that God is always found at the edges. He is the one who makes all the bridges between experience and Truth. Our systematical deconstruction of the Scriptures (commonly known as Systematic Theology) replaces the flow and story of the Ancient Text with an outline of bullet-point facts about God and His world. While not wrong in and of itself, it seems to reduce God to a science project. We lose all the passion, risks, drama, romance, mystery, discovery and hope of the Story while learning lots of facts. We gain content and lose the Spirit.

The edges are looking riskier and better everyday. Lets explore the future of tomorrow today at the edge.

for whom the bells toll

I am sitting in Frau Stolz dining room on a Sunday morning and the bells begin to peal. It’s 9:00 am, and the bells are ringing calling the masses, the people of Germany to worship. Few come.

Oh they have beautiful churches, and paid staffs (by the State) and a presence in each and every town in Germany. But the churches are largely empty. Few are interested in worship. Few seek God. Few search for meaning beyond the moment. Most are agnostics at best, atheists at worst. An incredibly beautiful land at the surface, spiritually bankrupt underneath.

Contrast that to late last night. Brenda was tired and went to sleep early. I was wide awake and showed no signs of sleep. So about 10:45 pm I head out the door to explore small sleepy German town nightlife on a Saturday evening.

It was a gloriously beautiful night . . . crisp and cool with a full moon reflecting so brightly that you could see shadows. The air was amazingly clean and bracing. At initial glance, everyone is tucked into their little beds. There are no sounds in the village. I can hear no cars, see no walkers nor smell any grills or cooking. I decide to prowl.

As I began to walk the streets, I realized that there was nightlife, and that it was in the pubs. What do Germans do in sleepy little towns . . . they go to pubs. In the name of research, so did I. I went into the Sonne and sat down at the very last free table in the entire place. It was FULL of people and it was rocking . . . loud laughter, hysterical giggles, shouts across the room and scurrying barmaids . . . and smoky - everyone smokes here.

I ordered a beverage and took notes for about an hour. The room was filled with about 60% men and 40% women. They were in social groups - no one sat alone. A few people were eating, but most were not. Everyone was intently involved in social discourse, laughing and talking passionately about something (what I know not, since I speak about 25 German words total).

They seemed fulfilled and content. They appeared to have abundant life. They were clearly having fun, and were enjoying this moment in their lives. They easily ignored the foreigner sitting alone at a corner table watching them all.

I cannot draw any significant conclusions about the meaning of life in this pub on a Saturday evening. I can only contrast it with the somber, quiet, largely empty churches the next morning. But I do know this, Christians should have been here in the pub, rubbing shoulders with the masses - the mainstream, being salt and light in such places. For the most part around the world, we hide from such places . . . places where we are most desperately needed, to frame life in these lively places as a spiritual journey, a walk toward (or away from) God. We should be in these places gently showing people the God of all creation. ‘Cause none of them are going to church right now.

halloween tales - bad missionaries

This is a mean and terrible tale. Missionaries who lie, steal and cheat their missions and the people they supposedly serve. Now I think I better understand the immense foreigner fatigue our partners had here in the early days we first arrived. No wonder it has taken so long for us to build trust. We have and that by the grace of God, but I would love to shoot a few of these people.

If you follow this blog, you know that Brenda and I are currently at Evangelical Theological Seminary, coaching, mentoring and encouraging students. So last night as we were sitting at a large table in a local pizzeria, we heard these young people tell us their worst experiences with missionaries, and foreigners in general.

We heard reports of missionaries submitting false receipts for reimbursements, inflated prices being submitted, pictures being sent of things not even actually purchased, opening orphanages and then forcing those children to go out on the streets and do evangelism! We heard stories of workers (these actual young people we were sitting with) being fired, not paid, stolen from, threatened with physical harm, and finally being kicked out onto the street with nothing in hand.
This made me cry at first, but then I wanted to rampage. I wanted to hurt these Westerner "Missionaries" . . . in the name of Jesus of course, but I really wanted to hurt them. And then I remember that precious verse that it is better for a millstone to be wrapped around the scrawny neck of the person who hurts a child, and that they then been thrown into the sea, than they fall into the hands of the living God (highly dynamic David Translation). I was relieved to realize that these "missionaries" are in the hands of the living God.

What was so humbling was that these kids had survived these experiences without massive scarring and damaged Faith. It was even more humbling to see how they can interact with Brenda and I even after all they have been through. We have restored trust in them, but look how many years it has taken! I am more determined than ever to not be like these other "missionaries."

Stopped by the Police for Hitchhiking

I have never ever had so many police stop me in the same day for the same reason!  Each and every one of these guys wanted the same thing.  They wanted to hitchhike with us!  In the last 12-13 years that I have been roaming the more exotic locations of the Slavic world, I have encountered any number of wild and unheard of reasons for the police to stop me.  I have been stopped for having dirt on the license plate, I have been fined for not having a sticker on my car, I have paid brides and tickets out the wazoo for years and years.  But this was the ultimate, and I did not even have to pay a fine.  Several times now at the borders, a Serbian Customs agent has asked me to take a friend or co-worker to the next city or farther.  Of course I always feel like the implied message is, take them or be stuck at this border crossing for the next week!  So when someone with a gun asks you to give someone else a lift, you generally do.  At least I always have.

Brenda and I led the worship at the church service on Sunday morning and then we headed out for Croatia, to the Evangelical Theological Seminary where I teach a number of times each year, and where 14 or so of our future Macedonian church leaders are studying.  To get to Croatia, you have to navigate Serbia.  I always and carefully obey each and every traffic law in Serbia.  America bombed their country for 88 days.  This is not a place I want to be stopped by a man or woman who has a gun and authority and who might have lost a brother or father as a result of the bombing we inflicted on these people who have been nothing other than our allies for the last 50 years (don't even get me started into the whole politic thing).  I have never been stopped by a police officer in Serbia nor did I ever want to be stopped period.

Well I got stopped yesterday.  Three times!  The first guy stops me . . . and I think "Oh crap" (in a holy way of course), and I roll down my window and say "good day" and he says "good day".  Then he asks me if I will take his fellow officer, a young lady, to the next town.  I point out to him that my car is already full, and that there really isn't any place for the officer to sit.  He agreed and let me go. (Huge Relief)  But we traveled less than 2 kilometers when we were stopped again and this time it was a whole GROUP of policemen!  Basically we had the same identical conversation, and then again at the next stop.

This morning as I was watching the sun rise, it occurred to me that a number of things had happened the day before that could have turned out quite differently.  Number one was that none of these police officers knew we were Americans.  Our car plates are Macedonia, and we drive a very typical Macedonian car, not a big fancy one like lots of foreigners do.  Number two, we spoke Macedonian and so it obviously never occurred to them to ask and see our passports.  Number three, our car was really full (of gifts primarily for the students here from their families).

I then realized that there are several important spiritual lessons I could learn from this whole process.  The first being that when my car (emotions, life, ministry, heart) is full of God, there is no place for satan to sit. (I am not saying that Serbian police officers are satan or evil in any way, just drawing an analogy).  This is the most important lesson for me, because like every other person, I like to flirt with the edges.  But honestly, if I think of satan as a Serbian Police officer with a gun, rather than this  . . . for the most part likeable fellow who has made a few mistakes and is on the outs with God at the moment, I believe I will pay attention far more to who may be riding in my car.

The other lesson I think I can take away is a bit more complicated, but no less critical: that while my spiritual passport may say that I belong to the Kingdom of God, I have been given the tools to appear like anyone I choose . . . e.g. I can appear to be Macedonian, although I am not.  This can be used for good or evil and I need to be careful that my motives are right and that my actions are right.  I often use these skills to hang out with the most non-christian folks you can imagine, and as long as I am missional with these tools, that is OK.  But to use them only in order to disguise my true passport country is perhaps a sin.

translatability of God

I was thinking, (dangerous I know) and I found out that I believe the primary work of ministry is the translatability of God. Or perhaps a better way to say it is that our work is to plant a seed of Faith in every segment of culture and society. Of course we immediately think of politics and schools, but I actually think those are two areas we need invest ourselves in as people of character, but leave the religious rhetoric behind. (Don’t even get me started on the Republicanization of Evangelicalism!)

I was especially thinking about the translatability of God to the homosexual community (or tribe), the postmodern tribe, the post - postmodern tribe (yes it is already here and no you will not hear about it in your church or local Christian bookstore - I was going to write a book about it, but by the time I published it, there would already be a post-post-postmodern tribe).

I realized today that people talk in movies. What I mean by that is every third sentence goes, “oh, do you remember in the film . . . where they . . . and then the . . . came in and then . . .” etc, etc. Postmoderns and others on the edge talk in movies. While I have studied the culture and can speak to it intelligently in some ways, I haven’t watched a movie since the first week in July . . . and now it is the last week in October. In fact I do not believe that I have actually turned the TV on since the last game of the World Cup (not to be confused with the World Series), except to show some American visitors what Serbian Turbo Folk looks like.

Clearly I don’t talk in movies. The last movie I watched was a pirated version of Pirates of the Caribbean (no pun intended) at the local theater. I tend to talk in ideas and structures. Can I be a tool of the translatabiling of God to these other groups? And there are thousands of niches that have not had God translated to them yet: bikers (ricers and HD boys), NASCAR, quilting, cooking, antique car buffs, hunters, fishermen, hikers, mountain climbers, secretaries, Ambassadors, government, engineers (and thousands more) who all have their own language, codes, patterns, outlooks and points of view.

I guess the next question is which of these tribes is God calling me toward, and which are within my purview? . . . right after I figure out if the translatability of God reaches that far or not.

I wish I had their energy

Dr. B wore me out this week! He and Betty just flew out, heading to Jordan today. How I wish I had their energy! My prayer is that people in the CMA will listen to him and follow him. I have a keen appreciation for how tough his job is, and frankly can’t imagine how many different threads within the Alliance pull at him. I could never navigate the waters that he does.

I drilled him with questions for three days and he handled me with ease. But then again, I am a sissy compared the lions he has to face all the time. It was way cool to see them interact with the 20 + college students we had over to the house on Tuesday evening for a big bash. And even though they were tired from their trip from Spain to the hairy armpit, they stayed up longer than I thought they would and Dr. B is just a serious social bunny. He walks up to every person coming through my door and says, “Hi, my name is Gary.” I got weary just watching him connect with person after person.

I am so busted . . . I am going to bed, but when I grow up, I want to be just like that.

Erratic Compulsions

I was looking at the bombed out buildings along the side of the road today as we drove to the Resurrection Center wondering; what must it have been like for those who were living there when the mortar shells were falling on those homes?

Here in the Balkans, the truth is this; he who has the most strength makes the rules. And we Westerners can identify with both strength and rules. Unfortunately Paul took exception with both.

Paul actually frames this addiction to the law, rules, and regulations as an erratic compulsion that leads to trying to get your way all the time (Gals 5:19). He goes further and clearly says that obsession with the law, rules, and regulations leads to an obsession with sin! (Go read it!). In contrast to this style of life Paul suggests, "Why don’t you choose to be led by the Spirit and so escape the erratic compulsions of a law-dominated existence?" (5:18 The Message)

What a powerful indictment to our religiosity and religious culture today. What is there about us that resists a Spirit-led life, and embraces a rule-focused existence?

I have been giving this some serious mental percolating time. I also have been bouncing these questions and ideas off our President Benedict (who is currently staying at my house in Skopje), a District Superintendent from the USA and other key leaders within our organization. I see a large disconnect between our theory and our practice. We make people sign papers that bind them to laws, rules and regulations.

What I hear our leaders saying is that we want to be an organization that embraces the Spirit-led life of Freedom, and several times I heard that we actually are that kind of organization. On the opposite side, I have been told that I work too hard and that I should rest more, take better care of myself, and in general relax more. That looks good on paper, but reality is this, I am valued for what I do, not who I am and not what I think. President Benedict says the most amazing things, which give me hope that we can let go of our erratic compulsions. Nobody hopes more than I, that he is right, and that my cynicism is wrong.

I have found myself at the bottom of the spiritual dogpile so many times . . . on the other hand comments left on yesterday’s blog about Incompatible Selfishness give me some hope. Hey maybe I can muster the energy to try once again to effect change within the CMA and see if we can let go of our erratic compulsions.

incompatible selfishness

Or I could have entitled this blog, “Castration, going all the way with Jesus” or some similarly uncomfortable picture, but I finally decided on incompatible selfishness, because maybe I won’t get too much flak for the the following content. Incompatible Selfishness is a condition of the soul that happens each time someone makes a rule designed to restrict your freedom in Christ.

I was at an impromptu meeting Sunday night after our interrupted church service click to see previous post and one person there was describing how “really serious about God” people act and behave. It was disheartening once again to hear the Gospel reduced to a list of does and don’ts. No wonder the process of evangelism and many churches struggle for success around the world; we evangelicals have become the modern day pharisees, making rules that add to scripture and make serving the Lord an impossible burden. This is especially an affront to our Savior who clearly states that His freedom is real freedom. It is the most anti-rule statement anyone could possibly make!

For whatever cultural reasons North Americans seem to be the least comfortable with Freedom of any culture that I have ever been a part of in my life. I have heard about 50 sermons on not causing a brother to stumble, for every sermon I have heard on Freedom. But causing or not causing our brother or sister to stumble is an element of the Gospel, whereas Freedom seems to be a central part of the foundation!

Paul talks about this in Galations 5 . . . and he sums up the Gospel as “ . . . we expectantly wait for a satisfying relationship with the Spirit. For in Christ, neither our most conscientious religion nor disregard of religion amounts to anything. What matters is something far more interior: faith expressed in love.” (The Message)

What matters is something far more interior . . . Paul wrote Galations because of the tendency of the church to constantly fall into legislating holiness, which of course is never holy because holiness is something far more interior. Paul continues on calling this legalism a “detour” that is not from God (vs 8) and that these people calling for external rules for holiness are dangerous . . . they are like yeast, just a few affect the whole loaf.

But God has called us to Freedom. Rule-makers and enforcers are the essence of incompatible selfishness, because they are first of all incompatible with the freedom Christ died to bring and second they are selfish mandating all to live at their level of weakness. I hate to say this, but people are not lining up to be given rules of do’s and don’ts, but offer them the freedom that God is about, then lets see what happens! I had 25 college kids in my house for five hours tonight and they each will tell you that they gladly and firmly face ostracism from society and family, because of Freedom, not rules. Christ has come to set the captive free, and that includes those caught in the bondage of man-made rules of holiness. As God said to the prophet Samuel, “I am not like men, I look at the heart.” (Dr D’s paraphrase).

He crashed our church service!

Right in the middle of the sermon, at a critical moment, he opens the door to the church and stands there in the door. Finally Nikola asked him, “May I help you?” and the big lunk says, “Can I come in?” And he does. If he had sat there peacefully, it would not have been a big deal to interrupt in the middle of the sermon, but he sits down in the front and then turns around and starts blowing kisses at the girls! Then he looked over to where I was sitting and began wagging his tongue at the girls on my side of the room.

Needless to say, this totally ruined the atmosphere and the train of thought in the sermon, not to mention made everyone extremely uncomfortable. Brenda and I immediately bowed our heads and began to pray that God would take control of this situation and prevent this man from destroying the work that God was doing in the service. About the second minute of our prayer, one of the guys got up and went outside and left the door open, and motioned for the “visitor” from hell to follow him out of the room. He resisted the idea at first, but then with a little bit of encouragement from Nikola, he followed Victor out of the room.

When they went out of the church, Nikola said that we always need to be people who are welcoming to one and all, even those who make us uncomfortable. While my mind agreed with Nikola that this was our biblical position, my emotions were rebelling. Welcoming those who are leering at our young ladies during the service is beyond my current spiritual maturity level. Today, 16 hours later, I can acknowledge that Jesus died for this man too, but frankly he seemed much more under the influence of Satan than a soul searching for God. Victor returned after five minutes or so and said that while the man would not be returning to the service, he was waiting outside near the street and that he was waiting for our girls.

Nikola’s response was much more mature than mine. He reminded us all that we too were and are sinners and that we have experienced the great blessings of God. Our goal and greatest wish should be, must be, for others to experience God in the same manner. Again I mentally agreed fully with Nikola, but my heart wanted to pound this guy into the ground (I have two teenage daughters!). As I have been examining this internal inconsistency within myself, I have been searching to see if there are other areas where I have mental understanding, but lack heart change. I think that each time I do not do what the scriptures say, that this is revealed in me. There are several solutions to this lack of maturity; I can submit my heart, not only my mind to God’s Word, or I can just take those parts out of the bible since I do not plan to obey any way. click here to see the new bible

Clearly this disruption came from the evil one, but God turned it to His purposes as always. We all focused much better after the interruption. And when we finally dismissed, the lunk was gone.

Two languages at once

This is possible . . . in a group . . . not in one person at time. I am currently sitting at 4500 feet elevation at this hotel high up on the mountain, looking out over the mountain ranges to the North with 27 leaders from the Evangelical churches of Macedonia.

These men and women represent all the Evangelical churches in Macedonia. In many ways these 27 people represent the only Light shining into Macedonia, a country of 2 million people, seven major ethnic groups and a 1000 year history of war and hate and ethnic strife. In the local languages here, there is no "after the war" there is only "during the war" or "between the wars."

Marino and I are leading the music here and we are singing mostly in Macedonian, but an occasional song in English (for the sake of the guests that we have visiting from the States). Today Marino and I started with a Macedonian song, and then we followed that with an English song which we also happen to sing locally in Macedonian. About half waythrough the song it was becoming unbearable, because half the total group (50 people) were singing in English and half were singing in Macedonian . . . And it was terribly confusing for me, because the words don't quite match up rhythmically and I started losing my place in the song! Finally I got them to take turns in the song and it worked out in the end.

This confusing of languages is representative of the challenges that we face in every day life. We often try to communicate with people in our lives and ministries, but we speak different languages, even face to face. We don't hear what the other person is saying really. Or we don't understand the underlining message that is often there which is the real communication level. It takes an amazing amount of understanding, or time, or listening to Holy Spirit to get to that level of communication.

Now try to think about this in the spiritual communication arena. The confusing of languages in this area is that two (at least) different world views are at play or in competition. So the unconfusing of language is one of the primary tasks of any missionary or frankly, every child of God.

Getting to the same language and meanings takes alot of coffee and time in this part of the world. You will know what it costs for where you are, but this one thing saves us; that the language of love is pretty much universal.

Freedom?

Date: October 19, 2006 3:22 PM
Topic: Freedom?

I heard this story today. Cindy was a dutiful daughter until the
time her mother died. But then her dad married Cindy’s husband
aunt! Mindy was very close to her dad, and the new mother/aunt was
very threatened by Ciny’s relationship with her father, and began to
undermine their relationship to strengthen her own. In fact the new
mother/aunt finally stated to Cindy, “Hey I have the keys to all your
relationships, and if you don’t give me what I want when I want, I
will take all these relationships away from you.”

Cindy understood that forgiveness was her correct and only response.
So she forgave the offenses, she followed the biblical mandate. But
then new wounds were inflicted over and over, and the forgiveness
happened over and over. This process went on for 15 years! Cindy
learned to become very specific and detailed in her forgiveness. Too
often we are just too general in our forgiveness. OR we just decide
that we will not let it bother us . . . which of course it still
does. But healing in Cindy’s heart could not start, because real
forgiveness was not taking place.

Cindy had experienced God’s forgiveness, so she understood
forgiveness because she had experienced it. But one night Cindy came
to understand that freedom was not coming and she finally decided
that what bothered her the most was that she was trying to please
mother/aunt and of course that never happened. So what bothered her
the most was that her reputation was being destroyed by mother/aunt.
So when Cindy repented of her pride . . . she finally found freedom.
God in fact gave her a love for mother/aunt. But peace finally came
to Cindy, and in that was real true freedom.

To David (me) it seems that true forgiveness cannot occur when only
the offenses are focused upon. It appears that we have to discover
the real underlying hook that keeps us tied to these situations.
Until we deal with the inside stuff on our part, never will the
offenses lose their sting and power. Unforgiveness robs us of
freedom and peace.

I need freedom to love wisely, and I need freedom to release freely.
But without looking inside of me, David will never really forgive,
because I keep holding to how I have been affected. I hope that it
does not take me 15 years like it did Cindy . . . but it might, just
because I am so slow in maturing and growing up. I need to keep
these principles close by, because I am still offendable and thin-
skinned some days. You never outgrow the need to forgive.

Freedom?

Date: October 19, 2006 3:22 PM
Topic: Freedom?

I heard this story today. Cindy was a dutiful daughter until the
time her mother died. But then her dad married Cindy’s husband
aunt! Mindy was very close to her dad, and the new mother/aunt was
very threatened by Cindy’s relationship with her father, and began to
undermine their relationship to strengthen her own. In fact the new
mother/aunt finally stated to Cindy, “Hey I have the keys to all your
relationships, and if you don’t give me what I want when I want, I
will take all these relationships away from you.”

Cindy understood that forgiveness was her correct and only response.
So she forgave the offenses, she followed the biblical mandate. But
then new wounds were inflicted over and over, and the forgiveness
happened over and over. This process went on for 15 years! Cindy
learned to become very specific and detailed in her forgiveness. Too
often we are just too general in our forgiveness. OR we just decide
that we will not let it bother us . . . which of course it still
does. But healing in Cindy’s heart could not start, because real
forgiveness was not taking place.

Cindy had experienced God’s forgiveness, so she understood
forgiveness because she had experienced it. But one night Cindy came
to understand that freedom was not coming and she finally decided
that what bothered her the most was that she was trying to please
mother/aunt and of course that never happened. So what bothered her
the most was that her reputation was being destroyed by mother/aunt.
So when Cindy repented of her pride . . . she finally found freedom.
God in fact gave her a love for mother/aunt. But peace finally came
to Cindy, and in that was real true freedom.

To David (me) it seems that true forgiveness cannot occur when only
the offenses are focused upon. It appears that we have to discover
the real underlying hook that keeps us tied to these situations.
Until we deal with the inside stuff on our part, never will the
offenses lose their sting and power. Unforgiveness robs us of
freedom and peace.

I need freedom to love wisely, and I need freedom to release freely.
But without looking inside of me, David will never really forgive,
because I keep holding to how I have been affected. I hope that it
does not take me 15 years like it did Cindy . . . but it might, just
because I am so slow in maturing and growing up. I need to keep
these principles close by, because I am still offendable and thin-
skinned some days. You never outgrow the need to forgive.