Dependent

One of the deep questions fasting is designed to stir within us is, “What do I depend on?”

A year or so ago I had a conversation with Dr. David Wray, a professor at ACU who specializes in spiritual formation. Wray drinks nothing but water. I asked him why. He told me that several years previous he had noticed that he needed a little pick-me-up in the late afternoon to make it through the day. When he realized this, and as a devote practitioner of the spiritual disciplines, he decided that he was not going to be dependent on any substance.

I realize, as our church works through these two weeks of drinking nothing but water, that people are dependent upon a great many things — though we’re all too refined to admit it. I typically have one and a half cups of coffee in the morning and one Diet Coke in the late afternoon, so I can sympathize when people say, “I have to have my coffee.” But I do often wonder, “Really?”

Do we really need our coffee? Do we have to have a Coke? I bet when most of us think about it, we know that we don’t “need” those things. Furthermore, we love to hear sermons and read books about Jesus being “living water” and “the bread of life,” but, I’d guess, more of us are less sure about God actually sustaining us then we say we are.

And I don’t say this to beat people up. I’d enjoy a cup of coffee right now, myself. But the reason we fast is to witness and re-orient ourselves to the fact that we are in need of God and God alone. Upon Him alone do we depend! When we feel the pangs of desire for our favorite drinks, we can recall the fact that God alone gives us life and has been feeding and nourishing us throughout, though we live mostly unaware. And this experience changes the way we experience God and interact with one another.

So as we move forward with The H2O Project, I am thankful for those we will choose to donate money for wells, but I am reminded today that the blessing and the transformation is discovered in the fast. God is in the sacrifice!
And that’s not something I can teach in a lesson, sermon or blog.

Remembering Coffee

Yesterday our church began the H2O Project. Those who chose to will forgo all drinks but water for the next two weeks, tally the monies that we save and give it Living Water International, which builds wells around the world. It’s shocking to me to know that over 1 billion people in the world don’t have access to clean drinking water and a child dies every 15 seconds from a diseases that could be prevented if they had clean water.

So this morning, Rochelle washed our coffee tumblers (which we carry every day) and cleaned and put away our coffee pot. We won’t need it for a while. No morning “pick-me-up” or late night “stay-awake-to-work” java, Just water.

Matthew 25 talks about giving water to the thirsty. That’s what we’re trying to do. We’re trying to do what Jesus ask us to do. So for two weeks we’ll use some other method to wake up in the morning. We’ll just have to remember coffee!

P is for Poor

One of my favorite authors and thinkers, Brian McLaren has a new book out this month entitled, Everything Must Change. Of course, I ran out and bought it though I’m 6,000 feet deep in reading. I had dinner with Brian last year as he was working on the book. The working title was “Jesus and the Suicide Machine.” They changed it. But, honestly, can you think of a book title more provocative than “Everything Must Change”?

Anyhoo, I’ll be slowly making my way through the book and from time to time share some thoughts I find particular useful and/or provocative. Here’s one from chapter 2.

“… I also knew that most churchgoers, including myself, either didn’t share that concern for the poor or didn’t know how to turn concern and good intentions into constructive action. Even though we believed that the poor should be helped–that poverty should be fought–we didn’t know how. We had heard liberal and conservative arguments blaming poverty on everything from capitalism to communism, from corruption to bad trade policies, and from debt, to selfishness or immorality of the poor, government regulation of business, and badly administered charity. We seemed polarized by our idealogical diagnosis of the causes and cures of poverty, and even worse we were paralyzed by our polarization, and so the poor continued to suffer–trapped by their poverty and our polarizing, paralyzing arguments about poverty.”

Race in America

I’m currently doing some writing about the racial reconciliation efforts among Churches of Christ in the late 1960’s. Interesting stuff. And can only be understood, in my opinion, if you understand Barton Stone’s and Alexander Campbell’s views on race, slavery, and social action.

When I write and talk about race, people frequently tell me that I’m overreacting, that race isn’t an issue, or that people are playing the “race card.” I think the recent happenings in Jena, LA and the even more recent hanging of a noose on the door of a Columbia University professor tell a different story.

And to be fair, I’m glad that Whoopi Goldberg has called on Al Sharpton to apologize to the Duke Lacrosse players. This may likely be the only time I have cause to say this, but, “Good for Whoopi.”

By the way, does it surprise anyone that when racial tensions heat up churches almost never have anything to say?

Crazy/Beautiful Weekend

Our family is recuperating from a crazy/beautiful weekend. It began early Saturday morning when we arose at 5 a.m. and headed toward downtown Houston to participate in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure benefiting breast cancer education and research. We joined 28,000 other people in walking and running for a cure to a disease that affects the 1 in 8 women that will be diagnosed with breast cancer — not to mention their families.

Twenty-three years ago this past Friday my wife’s grandmother died from breast cancer and in February 2005, my mother-in-law was diagnosed and is currently a survivor. Breast cancer hits close to home for us. So we walked!

The entire family, grandma Beverly included, walked in the 1/2 mile Family Walk, and Rochelle, Malia and I participated in the 5K Walk — actually Malia walked the 3/4 of a mile then was carried on mom’s and dad’s backs the rest of the way.

The best thing about the walk is the way that survivors are treated. Gifts are given, congratulations shared, stories told and applause received. It was beautiful. Inspiring even!

If you had planned to give $$$ to our team and haven’t, donations can be accepted until the end of October!

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Rochelle and I ended Saturday night seeing The David Crowder Band in concert.
During the opening acts we were both exhausted from the walk and dealing with sever headaches and thought we might have made a mistake by combining the two events into one day. But once Crowder hit the stage all was well.

Over and above the music itself, I love Crowder’s humility and ease with the crowd. There’s no pretense. No encores. No preaching. No trying to have a road to Damacus experience at a rock concert. Just good people making good music that glorifies God. The highpoint of the concert? Watching the security guard sitting in front of our section close her eyes and sway as the masses sang “Oh, praise Him, Oh, praise Him, He is Holy, He is Holy.”

My Babies

You all know that I have two daughters, but I have a lot of babies. My “babies” are all the kids who have come through my youth groups, been in my small groups at camps and retreats, and who come to touch my life deeply with their spirit and zest for life.

Every now and then, I spend time with my babies who are all grown-up and I’m excited and proud of what God has done in their lives. Some are university professors, some work with the urban poor, others have begun ministries or work in church ministries, still others are studying to become therapist and counselors, and  still others are literally changing the world. Those times are always special and humbling.

Then there are those times when I get a report about my babies who have mis-fired for one reason or another. They struggle with drug use, bad relationships, and so many other things that bring tears to my eyes. I wish I knew what word, what event, what ministry project I could have done that would have made a difference, what would have made them embrace the way of Jesus. But the truth is I don’t. Most days, I spend a good bit of time kicking myself for all the ways in ministry in which I fail.People’s souls are the most important thing in the world, and I wish I was better at caring for them.

I’ve taught someone, somewhere a Bible class almost every Sunday morning of my adult life. I’ve exposed folks to the spiritual practices and disciplines. I’ve prayed with people and walked with them through some of the most heart-breaking moments of life. Yet still, people end up being people who sometime reject the Kingdom.

I’m thoughtful of what God must feel — though I’m sure I experience it on a lesser level — that people He loves, and has tried to expose to love, reject it and turn away. I’m not even sure people reject God willingly. We’re all sooooo immensely broken!

What I do know is that I wish the journey from knowing and hearing about God, to loving to live as His child weren’t so great a distance.