“To those outside the church…”

From pages 150-152 of the book “Dear Church”, by Sarah Cunningham… and from me:

To those outside the church, I am sorry for the times we under assessed your intelligence by assuming a few “cool” service elements, rather than real relationships, would draw you into our churches.

I am sorry for the times we presented Christianity as a three-step plan that you read and signed as if it were some type of credit application. That we sometimes acted as though Christianity and Christ were so simple and tidy that we could neatly package them inside a little box that you should be able to open and transplant into your spirit without any questions or hesitation. I am sorry that we sometimes brokered fire insurance — get-out-of-hell-free cards — instead of inviting you into God’s fullness. I’m sorry that we sometimes forgot to exemplify “kingdom” in this world… never mind the next.

I am sorry if we approached you or didn’t approach you based on external criteria like your socioeconomic class, skin color, education level, or any other trait that made you more or less like us. I am sorry for the times our message has isolated you, made you feel more judged than forgiven, or offended your family, friends, or people group in a way that was not biblical.

I am sorry for the times that we acted like your mistakes were worse than or own. I am sorry that we failed to realize that life is hard, just generally hard no mater who you are, and that we weren’t generous enough with grace and compassion unless it worked to our benefit.

I am sorry that we locked our doors when we drove through your neighborhoods or shirked you when you tried to talk to us in the checkout lines. that we spent more time avoiding you than really getting to know you, that we wrote you off before we even knew your names or stories. That we pretended to understand where you came from, when really we had never bothered to truly listen.

I am sorry when we acted like faith and doubt could never coexist, like it was wrong for you to have questions about why God allowed evil in the world, instead of encouraging you to ask the questions and grow through them. I am sorry when we acted like there were answers to every question when there are some questions we just can’t be sure about, that only God knows the answers to.

I am sorry that we sometimes told you what to believe, and how to believe, instead of letting you really discover and own your journey for yourselves.

I am sorry the we sometimes cared more about whether you came to our church or our choir concert or our youth group or our Bible school than we cared about whether you knew how to live in God’s fullness.

After all you may have been through, I understand if you have given up on the people within the local churches, but please don’t give up on our God. In the times we have made him out to be less than he was, cheapened his church by shaping it via our agenda instead of his, we have committed terrible offenses. Forgive us or don’t , but know that in our smartest and most sensible moments we would forget our pride or our desire to be the “most spiritual” and we would get down on our knees and beg you to reconsider the Savior who is eternally more noble and just than we are.

You must know that even if you can never respect the church, even if you doubt everything that comes out of our mouths, one thing that is still true is that Christ wants a relationship with you and that opening yourself up to him would be hands-down the best investment you could ever make in your life.

And if you come to follow Christ, I pray that you follow better and more closely than the rest of us have.

Most of all, I am sorry we haven’t apologized more often or sooner.

Published in: Uncategorized on 2nd April 2008

Willy, the man on the street

This guy’s awesome… I want to be more like him:

Read more about him at DonnysRamblings.com

Published in: Uncategorized on 17th March 2008

My new favorite saying…

“…For you see I have no need for somebody who is in love with religious people because I’m not that religious. You say ‘oh but I think you are, you do religious things.’ Well you may think that but I am not that religious — but I am that sinful. So a god who came to establish a religious club would not ring my bell or knock my door. But a god who came to rescue rebellious, indifferent sinners would know for sure to call my name…” -Alistair Begg

(I’m not sure what the sermon name/date of the sermon that’s from, but I heard it from the “Sermon Jam” that you can download here)

Published in: sermons on 4th March 2008

Pray-o-matic

From http://watkins.gospelcom.net/shorspi.htm

Pray-o-matic

You, too, can pray with confidence and competence with the new 'Pray-O-Matic” system. Just choose a phrase from each category and you'll touch heaven from your prayer closet just like the saints of old. (There are over 10,000 possible combinations.)

Opening
[ ] Our gracious and loving Heavenly Father
[ ] We come before You
[ ] We come into Your midst
[ ] We come into Your presence

Transitions
[ ] We beseech Thee
[ ] In Jesus name
[ ] In the powerful name of Jesus
[ ] For Thy boundless love and mercy
[ ] This is weighing heavily on our hearts and minds
[ ] For Thy sake we pray
[ ] We look to the Lord in prayer
[ ] O, Lord Almighty, Maker of Heaven and Earth

Praises
[ ] We want to praise You
[ ] We just want to praise You
[ ] We just really want to praise You
[ ] We just lift You up
[ ] We just want to thank you, Lord

For meals
[ ] Bless this food to it's intended use
[ ] Bless this food to our bodies
[ ] Strengthen us so we may serve you
[ ] God is great, God is good . . .

For health
[ ] We rebuke this illness in the powerful name of Jesus
[ ] Bless those who are sick of our number

For missionaries
[ ] Bless the missionaries who labor in foreign fields, especially those who have gone out from our assembly

For protection
[ ] Thank Thee for Thy watchcare over us
[ ] Grant us Thy traveling mercies
[ ] Protect us on our way
[ ] Surround us with a hedge of protection
[ ] Cover us with Your blood
[ ] Now I lay me down to sleep . .

. For wisdom
[ ] Grant us Thy insight on this matter
[ ] Guard, guide, and direct us

For other needs
[ ] Be with all the “unspoken requests”
[ ] Convict them with your Spirit
[ ] Lift their burden

Closing
[ ] For Thy sake we pray, amen.
[ ] In the Name of Jesus, amen.
[ ] . . . I pray the Lord my soul to take, amen.

Better yet, why not just talk to the Father as your father:

God has sent the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, and now you can call God your dear Father. Now you are no longer a slave but God's own child.And since you are his child, everything he has belongs to you.(Galatians 4:6-7)

(c) 1999, 2003 James N. Watkins. Jim Watkins is an author and conference speaker who still can't pray without using at least one cliche.

Published in: Uncategorized on 4th February 2008

The Room…

The Room…

In that place between wakefulness and dreams, I found myself in the room. There were no distinguishing features except for the one wall covered with small index card files. They were like the ones in libraries that list titles by author or subject in alphabetical order. But these files, which stretched from floor to ceiling and seemingly endless in either direction, had very different headings.

As I drew near the wall of files, the first to catch my attention was one that read “Brian Moore.” I opened it and began flipping through the cards. I quickly shut it, shocked to realize that I recognized the names written on each one.

And then without being told, I knew exactly where I was. This lifeless room with its small files was a crude catalog system for my life. Here were written the actions of my every moment, big and small, in a detail my memory couldn't match. A sense of wonder and curiosity, coupled with horror, stirred within me as I began randomly opening files and exploring their content. Some brought joy and sweet memories; others a sense of shame and regret so intense that I would look over my shoulder to see if anyone was watching.

A file named “Friends” was next to one marked “Friends I have betrayed.” The titles ranged from the mundane to the outright weird. “Books I Have Read,” “Lies I Have Told,” “Comfort I have Given,” “Jokes I Have Laughed at.” Some were almost hilarious in their exactness: “Things I've yelled at my brothers.” Others I couldn't laugh at: “Things I Have Done in My Anger,” “Things I Have Muttered Under My Breath at My Parents.”

I never ceased to be surprised by the contents. Often there were many more cards than I expected. Sometimes fewer than I hoped. I was overwhelmed by the sheer volume of the life I had lived. Could it be possible that I had the time in my years to write each of these thousands or even millions of cards? But each card confirmed this truth. Each was written in my own handwriting. Each signed with my signature.

When I pulled out the file marked “Songs I have listened to,” I realized the files grew to contain their contents. The cards were packed tightly, and yet after two or three yards, I hadn't found the end of the file. I shut it, shamed, not so much by the quality of music but more by the vast time I knew that file represented.

When I came to a file marked “Lustful Thoughts,” I felt a chill run through my body. I pulled the file out only an inch, not willing to test its size, and drew out a card. I shuddered at its detailed content. I felt sick to think that such a moment had been recorded. An almost animal rage broke on me. One thought dominated my mind: “No one must ever see these cards! No one must ever see this room! I have to destroy them!”

In insane frenzy I yanked the file out. Its size didn't matter now. I had to empty it and burn the cards. But as I took it at one end and began pounding it on the floor, I could not dislodge a single card. I became desperate and pulled out a card, only to find it as strong as steel when I tried to tear it. Defeated and utterly helpless, I returned the file to its slot. Leaning my forehead against the wall, I let out a long, self-pitying sigh.

And then I saw it. The title bore “People I Have Shared the Gospel With.” The handle was brighter than those around it, newer, almost unused. I pulled on its handle and a small box not more than three inches long fell into my hands. I could count the cards it contained on one hand. And then the tears came. I began to weep.

Sobs so deep that they hurt. They started in my stomach and shook through me. I fell on my knees and cried. I cried out of shame, from the overwhelming shame of it all. The rows of file shelves swirled in my tear-filled eyes. No one must ever, ever know of this room. I must lock it up and hide the key. But then as I pushed away the tears, I saw Him. No, please not Him. Not here. Oh, anyone but Jesus. I watched helplessly as He began to open the files and read the cards. I couldn't bear to watch His response. And in the moments I could bring myself to look at His face, I saw a sorrow deeper than my own. He seemed to intuitively go to the worst boxes. Why did He have to read every one? Finally He turned and looked at me from across the room. He looked at me with pity in His eyes. But this was a pity that didn't anger me. I dropped my head, covered my face with my hands and began to cry again.

He walked over and put His arm around me. He could have said so many things. But He didn't say a word. He just cried with me. Then He got up and walked back to the wall of files. Starting at one end of the room, He took out a file and, one by one, began to sign His name over mine on each card. “No!” I shouted rushing to Him. All I could find to say was “No, no, ” as I pulled the card from Him. His name shouldn't be on these cards. But there it was, written in red so rich, so dark, so alive. The name of Jesus covered mine. It was written with His blood.

He gently took the card back. He smiled a sad smile and began to sign the cards.

I don't think I'll ever understand how He did it so quickly, but the next instant it seemed I heard Him close the last file and walk back to my side. He placed His hand on my shoulder and said, “It is finished.” I stood up, and He led me out of the room. There was no lock on its door. There were still cards to be written.

Note: contrary to the intro that usually goes with this story (which I have not included), it was actually written by Joshua Harris, and was published in the Spring 1995 issue of New Attitude magazine.

Published in: Uncategorized on 12th January 2008

Literal days, in Genesis 1? A different approach…

I’ve been reading through the book of Genesis lately, and there’s this on-going debate/disagreement over whether the “days” spoken about in Genesis 1 are literal 24-hour days or just unspecified periods of time, anyway I noticed something odd that in Genesis: something would be said, only to be repeated a few verses later if not in the same verse, or it would be explained slightly differently. Here a few examples:

Gen 2:2-3 “And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested on the seventh day from all his work that he had done. So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it God rested from all his work that he had done in creation.”

Gen 9:7 “And you, be fruitful and multiply, teem on the earth and multiply in it.”

Gen 11:8-9 “So the LORD dispersed them from there over the face of all the earth.. … And from there the LORD dispersed them over the face of all the earth.”

Gen 17:27 “And all the men of his house, those born in the house and those bought with money from a foreigner, were circumcised with him.”

Gen 37:24 “And they took him and cast him into a pit. The pit was empty; there was no water in it”

Gen 40:23 “Yet the chief cupbearer did not remember Joseph, but forgot him.”

Gen 41:1-7 “Pharaoh dreamed… … And Pharaoh awoke, and behold, it was a dream.“

So while this might have been the way the author of Genesis wrote, I think it’s more than just redundancy or to remind the reader in case they’d forgotten what they’d read a few seconds ago… I think it’s written like that to enforce, or emphasise, that something is literal not figurative. This happens to be exactly what we find in Genesis 1:

Gen 1:5 “… And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.”

Gen 1:8 “… And there was evening and there was morning, the second day.”

Gen 1:13 “And there was evening and there was morning, the third day.”

Gen 1:19 “And there was evening and there was morning, the fourth day.”

Gen 1:23 “And there was evening and there was morning, the fifth day.”

Gen 1:31 “… And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day.”

So, those “evening and morning, the Xth day“s… I think those “days” are… well… days (you know, the kind that have a evening and morning?), and I think those verses are written like that - like the other verse in Genesis (above) - so we can’t get them wrong, or misunderstand what was meant.

Published in: Uncategorized on 5th January 2008