-Brennan Manning (fellow ragamuffin)

Me: “Can you name the gospels?”
Them: “Proverbs?
Me: “No.”
Them: “Isaiah?”
Me: “No.”

Are you shocked?

I sure was.

Is this okay in the church?  When are kids supposed to learn the Christian stories?  Is biblical illiteracy a consequence of topical teaching/preaching?  Are parents missing something at home?  Do parents know the stories?

I’m left with more questions than answers.

Lord, please give us the eyes of Christ to see people as you do.

I can recall a time when such fits would anger me because I had spent so much time preparing our time together.  Didn’t they know how much time I had spent planning this time to teach?  Why weren’t they listening to me?  I had SO much wisdom to share with them.  Didn’t they know how much better life would be if they sat still for a while?  Shouldn’t they affirm me after the amazing job I was doing?

In essence I wondered, “Why aren’t these students recognizing and affirming my work…or me?” Pathetic.  Trust me, I know.  Praise the Lord for their sake and mine that I have matured beyond this point.  But these were not the questions that were racing through my mind this past weekend.

Rather, the questions that were running through my mind were, “Why are these students more interested in Rebecca Black’s music video Friday instead of the Bible?  Why do they spend more time memorizing movie quotes than they do scripture?  Is the depth of their dreams for life wrapped up into Jersey Shore?  Is that show the ultimate?  Is life all about looking good and having fun for them?”  The reality of the situation (pun intended) is that for many of them life is about those things.  They are bombarded with messages about what matters and what’s valuable in this life, and as many of us know, the world does not value Jesus’ message much.

And again, as is often the case with youth pastors, my heart hurt for these young people.  God has a good plan for their lives.  Scripture has a valuable word to speak to them.  The potential pay off of their joining Jesus’ revolution of redemption and love is enormous.

“Your life has purpose beyond making people laugh.  You have meaning beyond what you can imagine.  Wouldn’t you just be open to hearing about how you matter?  Would you please be open to listening to how Jesus loves the other students in this room?  Can you please silent yourself enough to know how you might make a difference in this world?  Do you care about being all that you can be in Christ?”

So I broke the teaching/discussion about three quarters of the way through and ranted asking those questions.  I probably also said something brilliant like, “Do you really think Lada Gaga and Rebecca Black have more to offer to you than Jesus Christ?”  Yet I live another day to try and get across to these students how significant they are and how exciting life in Jesus is.

Lord, please teach me and lead me to minister faithfully and effectively so that these students don’t miss out on life in Christ.  Bless your church with fruit O God.

The first day of class our professor posed us the following questions: “What would you think of a person if they came into your office, sat down, and confessed that they have a problem with physically abusing their daughter?  What would go through your mind?  How would you perceive them?”

“Disgusting.  Criminal.  Abhorrent.”  These adjectives raced through my head and perhaps through yours as well.

The ten weeks of that class taught me several new ideas alongside of many practical applications of counseling in the pastoral setting.  The cornerstone shift in thinking that course produced (or reinforced) within me, though, was elementary and rather simple: it is difficult to love people like Jesus did.  Can you imagine having compassion on the child abuser?  Can you picture yourself embracing the pedofile?  What about the drug addict that’s ruined his family?  How about the pathological liar or thief?  The pedigree of such contemporary people was the same as those whom Jesus loved and spent time with during his life.

“By this time a lot of men and women of doubtful reputation were hanging around Jesus, listening intently. The Pharisees and religion scholars were not pleased, not at all pleased. They growled, ‘He takes in sinners and eats meals with them, treating them like old friends.’” (Luke 15:1-3, The Message)

What a great translation!

Often the Church is the single most terrifying place to be self-revelatory.  The thought of exposing one’s past “junk” is difficult enough in our communities.  Shedding light on current “junk” just seems out of the question.  Why is that?  We say things like, “We’re all sinners.  Nobodies perfect.  Jesus loves everyone,” but as soon as you attach (certain) specific sins to the title of sinner the church raises an eyebrow.

Are we able to embrace the sinner (i.e., the abusive parent, the unfaithful spouse, the porn producer, the pedofile, the sex addict, etc.) as Christ did?

I’m not there yet.  (Side note: I know self-deprecating statements are often way to “poor me,” but whatever.)

The type of love that Christ has for the father who hits his child is beyond my understanding.  I, at times, don’t know how that is even possible.  Surely that type of love does not mean condoning the abuse.  It does not mean that the person who does the abuse does not need to change.  In fact love of that person would mean just the opposite!  Love of that person would lead to hope for future change rather than disgust of the present. As Christians we must learn to love and embrace the broken hearted and sinner while they’re broken and struggling with sin with the hope that change (or to use churchy language) and redemption is possible!  The effect of love is for another post.  The act of love is merely a starting point, but a difficult starting point none the less.

Lord, grow our hearts to love with the same capacity as Christ, and may our love redeem and restore that which has gone awry.

Yesterday, I had a lady who recently left our church come in and visit.  She went on to tell me that it is amazing to see what God is doing in the city of Long Beach.  When I inquired what God was doing in his church she told me that a local congregation just received 60 new congregants into membership.  Now, I don’t want to be a negative nancy, but I will be here for a minute.  I know for a fact that a handful of those new members are former members of my own congregation.  They left the community I’m apart of and joined another.  Now before you think I’m writing this blog post out of bitterness toward that congregation, the woman in my office, or those who left my congregation let me say that I am not.  (At least I hope I’m not.)  Recently my own congregation praised God for bringing a couple of new families into membership (that had recently left another church in the local area).

The reason I write this post, though, is that I found a problematic relationship in this woman’s statement.  She seemed to indicate that “kingdom work” or “God’s work” was equated to what many call “church hopping.” I’m not mad at her or bitter toward her for this, but I think the church (myself included) has, at times, confused these two activities with the one another.  ”God’s moving in our congregation because we’re growing,” may be more accurately translated sometimes (not always) as, “God’s moving in our congregation because people are leaving their congregations to come to attend ours.”

Kingdom work is not the “shuffling of sheep” among congregations.  Kingdom work is  Parkcrest Christian Church (my home church) baptizing several (I think over 100) believers into the faith last summer.  It’s Westside Christian Church (which I would have linked on this blog but couldn’t find their website) in Long Beach doing things like Operation RV Christmas a few months ago.

So may God grant us the grace and gift to discern the difference between the “Ponzi Kingdom” and God’s Kingdom.

CROSS COUNTRY VOTING

I owe her an apology.  Why didn’t I apologize?

What would’ve been different if I would’ve said something uplifting rather than something sarcastic?

Why did I do that over and over again?

I wonder if I would’ve spent a little more time doing this or that if my life would have been better.

I have spent so many seconds, minutes, hours, days, and even years living a life I wish I would have not have lived.

God, grant me strength to intensely pursue the life you long for me to live.

I had hoped that with the US Open of Surfing going on at Huntington Beach that it would become much easier to navigate my “CALOOZA-mobile” between a desirable pair of parallel lines on Main Street.  I had no such luck.  None the less, as Silvertide’s Ain’t Comin’ Home blared out of my box car I parked in the neighboring residential street.  Now only the long trek from my car to the end of the pier stood between me and the ever so refreshing and calorie packed banana-peanut butter cup milkshake.

In the summer time the beach, especially near the piers in Huntington Beach and Seal Beach, is typically brimming with people.  After all, the beach is the place to be in So Cal during the summer.  Many have come to bask under the Golden State’s warm sun, to lure queenfish with hook and worm from atop the pier, to bump-set-and-spike their way to volleyball dominance, or, just maybe, to partake in aquatic activities like body boarding, surfing, and body surfing.

Many of the ladies have spent hours trying to select just the right bathing suit with just the right colors that is just the right style for their bodies.  Many guys have spent the two weeks prior to their first summer beach day in the gym hoping that doing just the right lifts with just the right amount of weight would give them just the right “tone-age” to look insanely ripped.

As I casually strode down the wooden pier I became acutely aware of my environment.  There were women sun bathing miles away from the water, guys subtly flexing their eight-packs marching down Main Street, excellent surfers cutting four foot waves as if they were in the US Open, and small children building sandcastles with moats, hoping to outsmart the incoming tides from destroying their creation.  But behind the curtain that was fashion, muscles, coolness, and fun there was something more desirable to be longed after.

Togetherness.

I think we all yearn for it.  As much as Southern Californians talk about wanting to get tan, learn how to surf, show off our muscular bodies, fish, or just simply play, our trips to the beach are infrequently, if ever, alone.  The sand and saltwater serve as a sacred space to satisfy the unquenchable desire of togetherness.  Shopping for new swimwear, buying a new wetsuit, lifting heavy weights, and learning to underhand cast are all vehicles that move us toward something deeper than having a cute bathing suit, cutting a wave, being the alpha male, and catching nonedible fish.  It should be no wonder than, that the summertime and the beach are the most glorified season and location in Southern California.