(Beyond) Lent: #25: What comes first: Belonging or Belief?

chicken or egg? belief or belong?

Mary Magdalene:  They have taken the body of our Lord, and we cannot find Him!

Together they all departed for the tomb to see for themselves.
from John 20.


From its earliest beginnings, following Jesus has been about experience. The fishermen dropped their nets and immediately followed because Jesus showed up in person and spoke words of life to them.  Crowds followed Jesus as they experienced healings beyond their imagination.  Learners listened to the voice of Christ and a new way of living and being people of God took root in their minds and hearts.

In the gospels belief in Jesus always followed experience with Jesus.  Jesus even hid his identity from the crowds--commanding people and demons to be quiet when it appeared as though he would be revealed.  Jesus questions his disciples, "Who do people say that I am?", and "who do you say that I am?" not at the beginning of his journey with them, but after they have spent time together, and in John at the "end of the story."

The tomb is investigated, but the true believing comes when Jesus stands with his followers in the upper room, makes them breakfast on the beach, and encounters them as they walk to Emmaus and share a meal with one another.

Belief rises up from experience.  Encountering God conceives belief.  Many people become pregnant with belief, and then their belief is born is a labor of a lifetime.  But one thing remains, they encountered God. This encounter changes them, opens their eyes, heals their heart, and redirects their life's work.

For a long, long time, the church has been people of belief: confess these truths with your mouth and you  belong.  Behave in certain ways and you belong to the people of God. Belief leads to belonging. You must believe this way: ___________, and then you belong.

What if instead, the church is about the experience of encountering Christ together?  Belief is conceived in the encounter of Christ and like the disciples, belief in Christ is birthed through the hard labor of connecting thought and heart with experience. When experience and belief join, our actions, thoughts and lives are transformed.  This becomes a work of a lifetime, instead of a litmus test of belonging.

As people of faith, we together depart for the tomb and see for ourselves what encountering the Living Christ is doing and has done in the world and in our lives.  Then together, we labor over how we believe. But our common ground is not our system of beliefs, but instead: Christ is risen and alive in you and in me!

What if instead of belief leading to belonging, belonging leads to belief?
How does this change who "belongs" to the family of God?
What if the journey of belief is full of experience, change, betrayal, wonder, disappointment and recognition as it was for the disciples? I wonder that when Jesus said, "Follow me" to the fishermen, he did not lead with the question "Do you believe that I am the Son of God, the Messiah who will take away the sins of the world?". Instead, "do you want to follow me and belong to me?".  Was Jesus more concerned about their relationship with him or about their belief in him?

Perhaps the church is about people who want to belong to one another and to Christ, and who work out their belief together for a lifetime--
Instead of a group of people who believe together, and then work out their belonging to one another.

This practice of writing of Lent has been significant to me. It has brought forth questions and thoughts in my soul that I didn't know were there.

I am living the "Christ is Risen!" life, yet I continue to investigate the tomb, growing in my belief, sure of my belonging.

Lent #24: beyond fire insurance/ or "love wins"

Servants and Officers:  You too are one of His followers, aren't you?
Peter: No, I am not.
from John 18

We spend a lot of time on the conversation "who goes to heaven?".  I grew up with a fear that if I wasn't in the clear (with no unrepented sin on the record) and I was hit by a truck that heaven's gate would be closed to me. I remember for awhile when I was in early elementary school praying every night for Jesus to come into my heart--just in case I had missed it or somehow in the previous 24 hours wandered unintentionally from the fold.  Actually, my first remembered answered prayer request was me asking Jesus if it was necessary to ask God into my heart every night, and the following week the Sunday School teacher brought up the topic with the 2nd grade class and relieved my anxiety.

I now understand that God looks at the trajectory of my heart--am I moving toward Christ or away from Christ? Is the deepest part of my heart responding to the truth of God as I have been given grace to understand it?  Am I someone who is embracing being a person of God or a person of Self?  What a grace to know that it's not about am I "in or out of the Holy Club", but instead, "am I on the journey of holiness?".  Only God knows the deepest motivations of our hearts and how we have responded in our most inner most being to the truth of the Spirit that we have had the grace to comprehend.

I think that the deeper question to ask one another is "Are you a follower of Jesus?". This isn't a question about who's in or who's out of the heavenly gates.  This is a question of our very human-finite existence on Planet Earth.  In the moment of the crisis of faith:  am I following Jesus into the unknown and into the dark?

Can you "go to heaven" and not be a follower of Jesus?  Certainly, there must be many, many people who have only known and responded to the glimpse of the Creator in the cosmos around them who will spend infinite years memorizing the face of Christ. And many who have never opened a bible or heard of John 3:16, or understood who the person of Christ is who will one day be at the Great Banquet, learning what the Voice sounds like.

But for those of us who have the grace to know the God-with-us, the question is not about heaven and hell somewhere out there. It's the daily, monthly, yearly, life-ly following of Christ--in the beautiful and the despair, in the light and the dark, in the rough and the smooth.

Not because it gets us into heaven. Because we love him.
It doesn't get more at the heart of what it means to be an evangelical--we follow Jesus because he loves us and we love him, not because it's an insurance plan against hell.

The question is before us every day of our lives:
You are one of his followers, aren't you?

And sometimes its easy to yes and sometimes we are honest and say no--today this is too difficult. And in our betrayal and in our fidelity, Christ continues to say, I love you, son of Adam, daughter of Eve, child of God-I love you and die for you and long for you to know me intimately. I have a big house that we will share some day, and for now, let's share the house of your life for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. I am in it for life.

That's it. Relationship with Jesus.
Love wins. :)

Lent #21: stop working on your spiritual life

Pharisees:  What are we going to do about this man? He is performing many miracles. If we don't stop this now, every man, woman, and child will believe in Him. You know what will happen next? The Romans will think He's mounting a revolution and will destroy our temple.  It will be the end of our nation.
John 11: 47-48

This is one thing that the Pharisees were right about.
Presence with Jesus grows belief in Jesus.
When you are around Jesus and people who are transformed by Jesus, it conceives belief in you, and that believes fills you and eventually, through much labor, the new self is born (or continues to be born from you/in you).

Our work is presence. Abiding. Space. Listening. I have seen many people step away from the practice of faith because it seemed like a non-ending chore list, instead of simply being present.  God does the work.  We are open and released to what God is about in us.


 I repeat:  You need make no effort to grow.  Concentrate your efforts on abiding in the Vine. The vindedresser who cares for the Vine will care of its branches also. [God] will prune, water, and cultivate the so that they will grow and bring forth much fruit.

--Hannah Whitall Smith

Lent #20: to live up to my name

to be brave to ask the question

Start being brave about everything. Drive out darkness and spread light. Don't look at your weaknesses. Realize instead that in Christ crucified you can do everything.
--Catherine of Siena, Letters

From John 11:

Jesus: Lazarus is dead, ¹⁵ and I am grateful for your sakes that I was not there when he died. Now you will see and believe. It does not matter if the people there want to kill Me. Gather yourselves, and let’s go to him.

Thomas, Didymus the Twin (to the disciples): ¹⁶ Let’s go so we can die with Him.

I always felt a connection with Thomas because Thomas is my family of origin name (and is still my name).
We usually associate Thomas as the doubter.  "I won't believe until I put my fingers into his hands and side"--is Thomas' passionate claim as Jesus stands before them--either a figment of their mutual imagination, or the Real Deal.

However, I love Thomas' passion. His heartfelt place of living between doubt and faith and asking the question out loud that is on everyone's mind.

In the passage above, Thomas is the one willing to go and die with Jesus (hardly the words of someone who bears the nickname Doubting Thomas). Here is the passion of Thomas--ready with whole heart to follow Jesus to death, or ready to believe with whole heart as he touches the hands of Christ.

I imagine Thomas being a passionate, in the flesh person. An activator, a mover, a "let's go and do it" person. Someone who is willing to embrace death or embrace the wounds of Christ--whatever is put before him.
Tradition has it that Thomas took the gospel to India where he was martyred. I have been to the shrine of Thomas on the top of the mountain in India that honors this brave saint and disciple. (I there committed a great social faux pas in connection with a nun--but that's another story).

I hope to be like Thomas. Ready to go, bold in my faith and in my doubt. Honest and genuine, living-in-the-moment of a passionate embrace of Christ--be it the wounds of Christ or the death of Christ.

I want to cultivate the Thomas in me that believes, hides, follows, visions, touches, embraces, leads and dies with a heart of faith that comes not from not asking questions, but from asking all the hard questions.

Lent #19: The Wait

John 11: 5-6
Jesus dearly loved Mary, Martha, and Lazarus.  However, after receiving the this news [that Lazarus was ill], he waited two more days where he was.

Waiting is the foundation of the spiritual life.--Simone Weil.

I must say to someone almost everyday (including myself)--there is a lot of waiting in life.  It seems to be the universal experience--to wait on God. If it is for discernment, a job to show, a child to be conceived, an illness to be relieved, a future spouse to arrive, a decision to be made, a financial issue to be resolved, a hurt to heal, a relationship to be reconciled...there is a lot of waiting in life.

Learning to wait well is significant to the spiritual journey. In the realm of God, it's a lifeskill to be developed.  Waiting in a posture of passionate patience (how Eugene Peterson sometimes translates perseverance) is a way to living released, hands open, fists unclenched, trusting God.

I don't know what you are waiting for today and if God seems to be slow in your life.
When we are in the practice of waiting (meaning not "practice to be perfect", but "practice as a lawyer practices law"), we learn the soul-skills of letting go, not needing to control, and trusting that no matter what happens, the love of God remains steady in our lives.

Name today what you are waiting on.
Then add yourself to the list:  Jesus dearly loved, Mary, Martha, Lazarus, Sarah and _________.  However, he waited two more days...
We are in good company as we wait.

Lent #18: recognizing the Voice

John 10: 4

When all the sheep have been gathered, he walks on ahead of them, and they follow him because they know his voice. The sheep would not be willing to follow a stranger; they run because they do not know the voice of strangers. But they know and follow the shepherd's voice. 

To discern and recognize the voice of Christ is a sign of spiritual maturity.  Discernment is not a spiritual gift given only to some--although some will be given this gift specifically--discernment is a characteristic of a deep and mature faith.

Knowing the voice of the Christ comes only after being present to Christ for a time.  The friends we know most do not have to say their name when we answer the phone. We recognize their voices. We know who of our family is walking in the door by how their step sounds on the porch.  We can tell who a stray piece of paper belongs to by the handwriting of a co-worker that we have known for a season.

Knowing someone comes in time and we being to recognize their marks.

If someone comes to me and says--your husband said this or this today. I can either tell if it is an accurate representation of him because I know the kinds of things he talks about and how he says them. I can say--yes! that sounds like him. Or I can say, I think you may have misunderstood--talk to him again about this. Because I know who he is and what he would say.

In the same way, we learn the voice of Christ and over time we can discern what is of God and what is not. This is dangerous work because many people have suffered because of someone else claiming to know God's word.  We only recognize Christ at the place of our humility, remembering that we do not hold the corner on truth.  But God's voice and response is knowable to us. 

As we grow, we can listen to another and have a sense in us if this is something that God would say or not. 

Our only cares in listening and knowing is that we listen with others--not in isolation--, we are immersed in the story of God--reading, reflecting, studying--and that we listen over a length of time.  When we listen to God over our lives, the voice becomes clearer and clearer.

We practice recognizing the voice of the Shepherd.

Lent #17: of grace & patriarchy

Breathe John 8:1-11.
...Jesus bent over and wrote something in the dirt with His finger.
later to the woman--
Jesus: Well, I do not condemn you either; all I ask is that you go and from now on avoid the sins that plague you.

Grace. If I could sum up on the whole of the gospel in my life, I may use this word: grace.  Mercy, honor, favor, pardon, generosity. Acceptance of what is. Graciousness. Unmerited favor. Charis.

Jesus gives the woman grace, and also calls her to be who she is created to be--released from the pattern of sin that no doubt dominates her life (as it can ours).

However, this story irks me.  This woman is caught in an entrenched patriarchal system.  The law of Moses saw women as property, and therefore, a woman belonged to her husband.  Adultery, then, was not a sin against herself, but a sin against the husband. The adultery laws were very few for the men.  In fact, under the law, men could have sex with an unmarried woman who did not belong to another man without penalty.  The woman would bear the penalty, but because she was no one's property, the man did not. In Exodus 20,  desiring another's property (wife, slaves, ox, donkey, etc) was sinful.

So here is the woman, and notably, her partner-in-crime is missing.
I really would have liked Jesus to address this injustice in the passage.  I would like for him to have used this as an opportunity to redefine patriarchal law and call for the man to come before these church rulers.  And then he could offer grace to both of them. Or maybe first just to the woman, who had few choices but to use her body as power in that society. Perhaps Jesus could have addressed this with the man and did a little "clearing out of the temple"--throwing a few tables around and generally making an impression that this patriarchal system was just as much sin and bondage (and more) than the adultery.
I am disappointed.
Do you ever feel disappointed with the Bible? That it could have been clearer, that Jesus or Paul or someone could have send something differently--that somehow the history of the Church could have shifted because the scripture was a bit more clear on some things.

I want to see justice defined like I think it should be.

Hmmm.....guess I haven't learned very much about grace.

Isn't that why grace is such a difficult issue in the Church? We all have our ideas of what "restitution" is, what "addressing the issue fully" looks like. As people of God we offer grace, and others say--"but there should be consequences", or the person has to "earn back the trust".  And so to one person, grace is simply forgiveness, to another grace must come with a call to accountability, and to another grace is following a certain policy.

Grace is complex and simple.  Grace is being a person who does not condemn others (or ourselves). Grace is calling people to who they are beyond their sin--as many as there are churches, there are thoughts about what this looks like.

But the crux of the practice of grace is living in the place in which Jesus is bent down, writing with his finger across the dirt of our hearts.  When we live in the midst of our own dust, aware of the stones that could mark us, we are free to be people of grace in others' lives.

As soon as move to the edge of the ring, and put the "sinner" in the middle, we no longer are grace-bearers.

I suppose that I will have to lay down my stones for the absent man.
Can I trust God to turn even patriarchy fully on its head in the end? Scripture calls for it.

I can turn those stones meant for hurling into building blocks of living a life of grace without patriarchy today.

If I could pick a place to be in this story, I would be with the woman.  I need those words Christ says today and everyday: "I do not condemn you either, all I ask is that you go and from now on avoid the sins that plague you."

Go in grace.

Lent #16: the true identity

John 6: 43 Rumors and opinions about the true identity of Jesus divided the crowd.  Some wanted to arrest Him, but no one dared touch Him.

In Lent we take note of the things that tempt us to move us away from Christ.  For me, and for many of us, it is to find my own water to drink, instead of turning to the One who gives living water.
The things that I am thirsty for are simple, yet overwhelmingly complex: security, affection, control. Fr. Thomas Keating names these as the ways as our human instincts for survival. We press into significance and success, security and safety, power and control.  By trying to create stability for ourselves in our threatened human condition--especially in seasons of personal wilderness--we plunge into meeting our thirstiness in defining ourselves by these instincts.
When our need for control is threatened, we try and get it back by controlling more.
When our need for affection is threatened, we seek out affection from those who cannot fully meet that need.
When our need for security is threatened, we make plans and strategize how to get it back.

None of these patterns are inherently bad. We do need security, affection, and control.  Having a sense of self, being able to know that we are safe, and to have warm relationships are necessary to our souls.
The difficulty comes in the reality that we will always find these patterns as giving limited relief.  It is the living water of Christ that relieves our thirst and reorients our identity.  Then, through Christ, relationships, the true self, the things that bring us security all can anchor us during the wilderness.

I know that inside of me there are rumors and opinions of the true identity of Jesus.  I often live as though Christ is a good teacher, or a helpful companion, or a saint to imitate.  The reality that Jesus is bread I eat and water that I drink to sustain my spiritual journey on a daily/hourly basis is lost in the complexity of life.

Yesterday I recognized my need for affection and love.  Good things. But out of the threat of needing them, I am driven to try and figure out who I can connect with to satisfy that pattern.  Not necessarily bad.  However, now as I sit with this, I recognize that this need in me is an invitation to a deeper place in Christ and to know the true identity of who Christ is in my life.  The One that satisfies my needs for affection and love in the deepest ways.

Lent #15: God's secret work

I didn't post yesterday, but all day I considered these words about Jesus:

John 7: 10b
But He traveled in secret to avoid drawing any public attention.

The breath-prayer for the day was : Jesus, I wait--for your timing.

Jesus was intentional with his timing and sensitive to when and how people experienced him. Jesus was on mission and was focused on how to complete his journey to Jerusalem.

I wonder how Jesus stays under the radar in our lives at times, not drawing attention to the work of the Spirit in us, but yet accomplishing the mission of God in our lives in secret. Often when people talk about the work of God in their lives, there are circumstances that prepared the way for what God is doing that they never would have realized until later.  And I am sure, there is much missional work that the Spirit is secretly doing in us that we may never recognize as marked by Christ until we see him face to face.

This idea of the secret-work of God captures my imagination.  The God who directs our paths without our knowing, who secretly is on the move in our lives.  Perhaps if we knew it was God at certain times, we would reject and resist God's work--out of our fear or our sin.

I do believe that God does not let people go.  God woos them, waits with them, and works in secret in their lives, ever calling them to Love.

When we do recognize God in our lives, we can be sure that God is intentional about being "revealed".

Lent #14: bread to eat

John 6 48-51; 58b: I am the life-bread. Your fathers are manna in the wilderness, and they died as you know. But there is another bread that comes from heaven; if you eat this bread, you will not die.  I am the living bread that has come down from heaven to rescue those who eat it. Anyone who eats this bread will live forever. The bread that I will give breathes life into the cosmos. This bread is My flesh...
...I am not like the manna that your fathers ate and then died! If you eat this bread, your life will never end.

Manna was from God.  Yet the people died.  Manna was spiritual food as well--but spiritual food intended for sustaining the body for a physical amount of time.  The bread of Christ is spiritual food with the intention of sustaining the soul for eternity.

When we eat bread, it becomes a part of our bodies. It nourishes us, comforts us, and renews our energy.  When we "eat" Christ, Christ becomes part of our soul.  Christ nourishes us, comforts us, and renews our energy.  Christ is our sustenance.

Eating is spiritual whether it is manna or Christ.  What we eat determines our energy output, much of our health, and is connected to just practices in the world.  Most of us need to eat several times of a day in order to keep our energy levels in place.

I am wondering today about how I digest Christ on an ordinary Saturday.  As food is for the body, so Christ is for the soul. I wonder how I am seeking to sustain my spiritual energy today.

Lent #13: don't be afraid

Breathe:  John 6:20
I am the One. Don't be afraid.

I listen to people talk about their fears and I reflect on my own.  Our fears are deeply a part of us, formed from circumstance, personality, experience, and the reality of being human and finite beings.  Many of us share the same fears: rejection, loneliness, failure, insecurity of health or finances or relationships.

Most times we hold our fears at bay. But under the perfect storm, we are amazed at how fear tears through us, uprooting our center and making us want to hide from the world or from ourselves. When we are afraid, we want to hide, when most often what we need is to be found.

One of my fears is of exclusion--a form of rejection.  I am fearful of being excluded--of not being a part, of not being significant enough to be invited in (whether it's into a friendship, an event, or a ministry). When the sea is calm, I do not recognize this fear in my life.  But when the boat is rocked, the fear of exclusion begins to wash over me.  Perhaps I am not important or not significant enough.  Maybe I am not needed or not valued or not gifted.

One time last summer this fear of exclusion was so strong that I felt great loss.  I began to talk about this fear with a few of my friends, and as I did, it was as if Jesus spoke to the storm "Be calm" and the waves retreated and the water grew still.  The situation did not change, but the inner storm had receeded. This came through being found by my friends and being willing to name my fear (although it made me feel very petty and small).

Hannah Whitall Smith says: "The reality of [the spiritual] life isn't at all dependent upon your emotional state, but depends entirely upon your keeping you in the center of God's will."
Our emotions are sign-posts to us, but are not the same as who we are.  Our life is found in Christ, who centers us because he is "the One". What a relief that we are not the One.  We do not center ourselves or stop our own storms.  Our fearful feelings do not determine the reality of our spiritual life.

One way that we can move out of our fears and into Christ is by being found by our friends: naming our fears and allowing those feelings to be a vessel of grace through others to us.
With open ears, I hear the fears of those around me--knowing that they are mine as well.  I am amazed at how a conversation of someone else naming their fear releases the peace of Christ in me!

Lent #12: what is worship

^{John 5:39} Here you are scouring through the Scriptures, hoping that you will find eternal life among a pile of scrolls. What you don’t seem to understand is that the Scriptures point to Me. ⁴⁰ Here I am with you, and still you reject the truth contained in the law and prophets by refusing to come to Me so that you can have life. I am the source of life, the animating energy of creation that you desperately lack.


In the word-centered evangelical tradition we are still guilty of this often.  In our worship we talk about God, talk to God, read about God, listen to preaching about God, without listening to God.


I find that having space for silence and listening to God during worship with others points me to Jesus in a way that acknowledges that Christ is the source of life, the "animating energy that you desperately lack". 
The quaker tradition incorporates space for listening to God in this way that speaks to me.  


What is worship if it's not "Here I am with you." Noticing, giving attention, creating space to recognize the presence of Jesus is the heart of worship. Songs that we sing and how we sing them, the preaching, the offering, the intercessory prayer, the liturgy...all of that becomes lacking if we do not take time to recognize the presence of Jesus with us.


I feel the pressure often these days that we need to "get into the Word" and that it isn't real unless we are doing line by line preaching in a specific method and style.  That's somehow getting biblical preaching and church right. I do think that we need to "get into the Word".  But if we don't get into the present and living Word that is before us and among us then we are just searching for eternal life in a pile of scrolls.  The written Word only becomes the Word for us through the animating energy of the presence of Jesus.  We can read our bibles all day long and study them feverishly.  But until our heart is being present to the Here and Now Christ in our midst we will not taste of the Real Life.

Lent #11: nothing left behind

Breathe John 5.

John 5:25 I tell you the truth: a new day is imminent—in fact, it has arrived—when the voice of the Son of God will penetrate death’s domain and everyone who hears will live. 26-27 You see, the Father radiates with life, and He also animates the Son of God with the same life-giving beauty and power to exercise judgment over all of creation. Indeed, the Son of God is also the Son of Man. 28 If this sounds amazing to you, what is even more amazing is that when the time comes, those buried long ago will hear His voice through all the rocks, sod, and soil 29 and step out of decay into resurrection.

A friend of mine said recently:  crucifixion is always tied to resurrection.  I have been pondering that thought over the last few weeks, wondering if it is true. Are things in us ever put to death without new life coming from them? Are some things just left to decay and rot?  Is everything redeemed?

I had a vision some years ago of myself walking along a road.  When I looked down at myself I saw that there were holes all through me. And when I looked back on the road from where I had come, I saw parts of myself left along the side of the way. I clearly sensed God's presence there on the road with me saying, "sarah, I am not leaving parts of you behind.  My work is to restore you wholly. Each and every piece. There is nothing that does not have worth to me. No part of your story that my touch does not make holy.  I want you to be whole as much as I want you to be holy."

This vision changed the way that I prayed.  No longer do I pray for God to cut things out of us or rid of us sin, but instead to touch it with the burning coal that sears each part of us and makes it holy. There is nothing in my life and in my being that cannot be restored fully.  Nothing that I have to leave on the side of the road.

There are many parts of us that are in decay under layers of sod and dirt.  When we hear and respond to the Voice, all of who we are is resurrected--or is in the process of being resurrected.

Today: there are few parts of me that need to die gentle, natural deaths. But I won't leave pieces of me along the road to decay. God is in the work of the resurrecting each and every bit of me (and of you). I will be more whole than before, not less.

Lent #10: how to be good

Jesus: 8 Stand up, carry your mat, and walk.

9 At the moment Jesus uttered these words, a healing energy coursed through the man and returned life to his limbs—he stood and walked for the first time in 38 years. But this was the Sabbath Day; and any work, including carrying a mat, was prohibited on this day.

Jewish Leaders (to the man who had been healed): 10 Must you be reminded that it is the Sabbath? You are not allowed to carry your mat today!


I have to read this passage over several times in disbelief.  How could people of God respond in this way to someone who had been healed after 38 years? Really, how can they respond to the man with the mat with a religious prohibition and church policy?   But it's deeper than this, this is the law that the man was flaunting by being healed on the Sabbath. The law that defined how to be good is split open, to give birth to love and wholeness.

"How to be good" is a deep theme in my life.  Being good is not a requirement for healing.  Being broken and paralyzed is a requirement for healing.  It's the church leaders who are evaluating the "good", while Jesus has eyes open for the broken.

I serve as an "official" spiritual leader--while it's those who know me who will discern if that is true of me or not.  But as in all "official" capacities, the temptation is to look for those who are good, instead of for those who are broken.  Goodness and wholeness is not the same thing. Whole people (or people in the process of wholeness) sometimes walk around with their mats at times and in places that are embarrassing.  They draw attention to their broken stories on the wrong days and at the wrong times.  We want to say to them "be good--fit into the church culture, follow the rules."  Put down that mat and leave your broken story behind. You've been healed already!

But when we release being good and embrace the journey to being whole, we find that carrying our mat around calls attention to Jesus instead of to ourselves.

We can be holy without being whole, but we cannot be whole without being holy.

I want to be willing to carry my mat around and to give up being good.  To press into being whole--the long process of it...and to live in holiness in the love of Christ. Not because I am good, but because Christ is Whole.

Lent #9: telling the truth

I realize that the truth sets us free, however, I continue to be amazed at when it really happens.  By far, the most freeing moments in my life have been in hearing others speak the truth about their lives. There is something healing and transformative in listening to the stories of others--in process or reflecting on a time in their lives--that brings light into the darkness.  Even if the stories are not reconciled, restored, or completed (although nothing really completes), the power of truth-telling is a vehicle of the light and grace of Christ in our lives.  It gives me courage to speak the truth about my own life, listen to the Spirit in my story, and to receive grace. I have been a part of a few groups of friends that did this practice of truth-telling, and truly, I owe those risk-taking people my life.  All of us are like the Samaritan woman--when the work of the Spirit comes into our lives, revealing the pain and reality of who we are and where we are, belief rises in us.  And I have found that most often in my life, the Spirit comes in through the stories of those around me.

John 4:39-54 

³⁹ Meanwhile, because one woman shared with her neighbors how Jesus exposed her past and present, the village of Sychar was transformed—many Samaritans heard and believed. ⁴⁰The Samaritans approached Jesus and repeatedly invited Him to stay with them, so He lingered there for two days on their account. ⁴¹ With the words that came from His mouth there were many more believing Samaritans. ⁴² They began their faith journey because of the testimony of the woman beside the well, but when they heard for themselves they were convinced the One they were hearing was and is the Savior sent to rescue the entire world. 

Lent #8: "that's not fair!"

the work of the farmer isn't always fair

I am wondering today about the work of a pastor.  It seems as though transformation takes a very long time in my life, and in all of our lives.  


^{John 4: 37}The saying may be old, but it is true: “One person sows, and another reaps.” ³⁸ I sent you to harvest where you have not labored; someone else took the time to plant and cultivate, and you feast on the fruit of their labor.
Breathe John 4.


There are a lot of books about getting ministry right.  The right strategies, the right was to contextualize the gospel, the right ways to be the people of God.  I have come to find that it's not about getting it right.  It's about faithfulness.  As people of God, we have a patch of ground to take care of each season of our lives.  Sometimes that patch of ground is our own families, at other times it could be a community-group, a neighborhood, or a workplace.  We are the farmers that tend the ground. We plant, prune, till, and harvest.  Then, in the following season of life, we do it again. And again.  The fruit isn't our own. We don't make it grow. Sometimes our ministry season is tending another plot of ground that someone else has been tending for a long time and we get to bring in the abundancy of another's harvest.  Being steadfast people of God who are faithful to the ground God is giving us is our work. At times we will not even have a glimpse of the harvest from the ground we care for, someone else will.


The work of the farmer is to do the work and trust the harvest to the Grower. We will face drought and torrential rain and windstorms.  There will be seasons of little harvest and of famine in the land.  Our work is to be steadfast and trust the growing to the Creator.


I don't really think that this is fair.

Lent #7: to be known

Breathe John 4.

The power of being known is transformative.  In this account of Jesus and the woman from Samaria, the woman is changed by Christ's prophetic encounter with her.  Jesus recognizes her need and vulnerability--she has been victimized by five different men who would use this woman without the responsibility of marriage.  We usually read this story as a morality lesson--the promiscuous woman and Jesus.  What if this is a story of the abuse of a woman--despised and rejected again and again?   In that day she would have little choice but to go from man to man looking for a glimpse of security.  Jesus gives her the security of relationship that she has never been able to find. "I am the One you have been looking for", he says to her.

Jesus sees beyond the social circumstance that would mark her in the eyes of the people as all used up. He has a theological conversation with her and reveals who he is to her.  They have an exchange of being known. My sense is that Jesus wanted to be known as much as the woman wanted to be known.  It's the deep cry of the human heart.  And here at a well on a dusty day in the wrong part of town with the wrong woman, there is a real encounter of real people.

Being known would cost Jesus his life eventually. Being known gives this woman life eternally.
Today I feel some death in being known and knowing another. I trust that there will be life in it eventually. But it tastes a little like ash today.

It makes me want to shrink back.  And I think, "come and see, can the Liberating King who knows everything about me give me real water to drink?"

From John 4:


27 The disciples returned to Him and gathered around Him in amazement that He would openly break their customs by speaking to this woman, but none of them would ask Him what He was looking for or why He was speaking with her. 28The woman went back to the town, leaving her water pot behind. She stopped men and women on the streets and told them about what had happened.

Woman: 29 I met a stranger who knew everything about me. Come and see for yourselves; can He be the Liberating King?

Lent #6: dance of a lifetime

Reflections on the Breathe lenten reader.

Relationship with Jesus is not about being "in" or "out" of the Christian club.  You can be legally married to someone without living in a covenant of love with that person.  In the same way, I can say I am a follower of Christ, but unless my life reflects a covenant relationship of love with Christ, then my words are just that: words. A legal marriage document does not document a real marriage relationship. Words of belief do not document a real covenant love relationship with Christ. It is the trajectory of the heart and the fruit of love over a lifetime.

Each person on the planet has opportunity to encounter the Light of God in some  way or another. I believe this to be true--although many may not name the Light as Jesus (perhaps never hearing the name of Jesus or not comprehending the reality of Christ), but yet, each the Light is revealed to each one.  This is mysterious and is the work of the Spirit.   The warmth of that Light will either compel someone to move toward it, or he or she will be repelled by it, and move away from it. In the course of lifetime, we dance with Light--at times moving toward, sometimes moving away, but only God can weigh the motivations and direction of our heart.  Relationship with Christ is not determined in a moment of salvation, but in a lifetime of embracing the Light. In the same way, a marriage is not determined at the "I do"s, but in the a lifetime of choosing one another.  This is a great grace to us.  It means that our faith is not determined by our behavior in a particular day or in a particular instance, but by our embrace and dance with the Light over time.  God sees who we are not just in a sliver of time, but in our wild and difficult, beautiful and painful, unfolding relationship with the Light.

The Gospel of John-a light to our path:

^{John 3:19} Why does God allow for judgment and condemnation? Because the Light, sent from God, pierced through the world’s darkness to expose ill motives, hatred, gossip, greed, violence, and the like. Still some people preferred the darkness over the light because their actions were dark. ²⁰ Some of humankind hated the light and so avoided its warm glow. They scampered hurriedly back into the darkness where vices thrive and wickedness flourishes.²¹ Those who abandon deceit and embrace what is true, they will enter into the light where it will be clear that all their deeds come from God.

Lent #5: Can't buy me love.

When Jesus arrived at the temple for Passover--the time to celebrate the remembrance of God rescuing His children form slavery in Egypt, Jesus saw that the temple did not have the appearance of a holy place.

From John 2:14f
The porches and colonnades were filled with merchants selling only sacrificial animals, such as doves, oxen, and sheep, and exchanging money...Jesus fashioned a whip of cords and used it will skill driving out animals; He scattered the money and overturned the tables, emptying profiteers from the house of God.

Jews: How gave You the right to shut us down?  If it is God, show us a sign.
Jesus: You want a sign? Here it is. Destroy this temple, and I will rebuild it in three days.


Jesus saw the temple in Jerusalem under slavery again.  This time it was not the oppression of the Egyptians, but the oppression of identifying relationship with God as something that can be bought and sold. This is not a passage to limit bake sales in church (although it has been used as such), but a passage that identifies salvation as a work of God, out of the control of human interactions.

Jesus proclaims that the temple is His own body.  And holy relationship with God is through relationship with Christ.  You can't barter or trade or profit from your own or someone else's salvation. It is the transformative, miraculous work of God.  God doesn't bargain or ask you to come up with money down.

I used to say salvation is the deal of the universe:  all of us, for all of God.   That is true on one level.  But it implies that we have control in this and that salvation can be bargained and exchanged.  It implies that we come to the bartering table and put all of our stuff on the table and then we sign a contract with God.

Salvation is the covenant love of a lifetime.  It's the marriage of a soul to Christ that is wooed by the Holy Spirit and made possible by the transformation of the Creator. We do not exchange, bargain or make a deal with God. We fall in love. To reduce it to a economical exchange is to corrupt the nature of love.

Lent #4: Can anything good come out of you?

Philip:  We have found the One. Moses wrote about Him in the Law; all the prophets spoke of the day when He would come, and now He is here--
His name is Jesus, son of Joseph the carpenter, and He comes from Nazareth.


Nathanael:  How can anything good come from a place like Nazareth?
John 1:45-46

We say these words to ourselves about ourselves.  How can anything good from our Nazareth?  Many of us carry with us pain from our childhood, family or early experiences.  Shame and insecurity rises up from this pain and threatens to overwhelm us even into late adulthood.  Some of us have made deep mistakes and poor choices in our lives as adults and we grieve that it is "too late for us".  We say to ourselves:  can anything good come out of me?

We also say they words about God-bearers in our lives.  When people show up in our lives to offer words of grace and truth and they do not come as we expect them to (from a certain place, with a certain degree, with a certain personality,  a certain age, a certain theological opinion, or with a certain style) we say to them in our our hearts "Can anything good come of Nazareth?".  Or essentially, this person cannot bear God in my life. In order to be a God-bearer in my life, you must be the kind of person I am expecting you to be.

Finally, we also say this to Jesus in our lives.  We doubt that Jesus is who He is.  Although we have know Him in our head as Christ, we still wonder if Jesus is really able to be who He says He is.  As if our situation is the advanced variety and just might be too much for a carpenter's son from Nazareth.  We act as though our shame keeps Jesus from being Jesus in our lives.

And to all of this, the response is:
"Come and see."
Come and see who I am.
Come and see how another can bear God in your life.
Come and see what I can do with your past.
Come and see what is beyond your expectations and shame.

If you are willing, it is a willingness to be in relationship with self, others, and Christ is such a way that Nazareth (ours, someone else's Nazareth) is transformed into the birthplace of Grace and Truth in us and for us.