Heart

In my devotional time yesterday I read from Joel where God says to wayward Israel "Rend your heart and not your garments."  In that culture tearing (rending) your garments was a way of showing remorse or sorrow or grief over some incident or calamity that had befallen you or your family or your nation. Often people who were sorry for something would tear their clothes and sit in a pile of ashes to show their contrition.  It was all for public display, supposedly to show what was going on inside, to show that they were truly sorry in their hearts for what had happened.  Obviously it had become a ritual, a spectacle, that meant nothing and did not equate with the state of the person's attitude or heart.  They would tear their clothes, sit in mourning, and meanwhile, inside, they would be planning their next crime.  They were not sorry for anything they had done, they just wanted people to think they were sorry.  What was worse, they wanted God to think they were sorry too.
But 1 Samuel 16:7 reminds us that God does not look on the outward appearance.  Instead, God looks at our hearts.  He wants to know if we are truly sorry.  He wants to know if we feel genuine remorse for our actions and for the harm we have caused.  He wants a heart broken so that he can remake it.  He does not want torn garments that we can mend ourselves with a needle and thread the next day once we think we've fooled everyone.
I have to ask myself every morning where my heart is.  I have to ask myself every morning if my heart is broken enough for God to remake it.  These last three weeks, alone in Vegas, have been a time for God to break and rebuild my heart.  I can't exactly explain it, but something is going on inside of me that I have never felt, or perhaps acknowledged, before.  I mean I am certainly not perfect or where God fully wants me, and I know I still have lots to learn and lots of areas to grow in, but for the first time in a while, I feel my heart slowly being mended and re-created by God.  It's a gradual process, but it feels good.  The best part is that slowly I am noticing how it changes how I think and act and treat people.  I'm starting to see evidence of the transforming work of God in my heart in my daily life.  How I think, how I process, how I re-act are beginning to change.  Again, not perfect, but beginning.  Now I am trying to find a way to symbolize this transformative work of God in an outward way.
It's kind of like going to the gym. I've been going to the gym 6 days a week for the past three weeks.  I get up at 5:45 every morning and work out for an hour and a half.  I am also starting to run (well, jog actually,....o.k. fast walk....).  My point is this: I want to see and feel results immediately.  I want to see muscle, I want to see my belly disappear overnight, I want to be able to enjoy running but it doesn't happen after one or two trips to the gym.  It's only now, after three solid weeks of faithful gym attendance that I am beginning to see and feel some tiny differences.  Today, for the first time, I was able to jog for a solid half hour without stopping and without feeling like my lungs were going to explode and I was going to puke all over the track.  Jo told me last night while we were on Skype that she can actually see some difference in my chest and arms.  Finally, there are some outward signs of what I am beginning to feel inside.
Some of us get so hung up on the outside, that we work endlessly to look good without realizing that it all starts from the inside and that without the inside change coming first, the outside thing will never last, and for as long as it remains, it will only be fake.  Like taking steroids. You might look good on the outside, but inside you don't match up, and what is worse, you can't live up to the life you are trying desperately to portray.  (I am reminded of the great Saturday Night Live skit on the steroid olympics where the olympians were allowed to take steroids and they looked huge but then their arms kept breaking off when they went to lift heavy weights because they weren't as strong as they looked.)
So, in the words of the prophet Joel, stop faking an outward change and start letting God change you inside so that the outward change is real and will last.  That is the only way to stay alive.
   

When Time is Your Enemy

Time is my enemy right now.  It is too long until I see my family again.  When I finally do get back to see them it will be far too short a time before I have to return to Vegas and leave them behind once again.  We still don't know how long this separation will last.  A year apart seems like far too much time to be away from each other.  My youngest son is learning to play the bass.  Everyone is telling me he is getting really good at it.  He loves it and practices every night.  Reminds me of me when I discovered the guitar.  I need to be there to encourage him and jam with him.  We need to spend time together.  My oldest son is becoming the man of the house.  He is bbq'ing supper for everyone.  He is getting a job.  He is learning to drive.  I need to be there to encourage him and support him.  We need to spend time together.  My daughter is entering grade 12.  This is such an important year for her.  She is doing so well in school and I need to be there to support her in her studies and cheer her on in her last year of high school.  We need to spend time together.
My wife....well, you get it.
But, not just is time away from my family my enemy; time by myself down here is also my enemy.  I am aware of my weaknesses and of my temptations.  I am aware of the fact that when I am bored that is when I tend to get into trouble.  I am aware of how easy it is in this city to get lost and become a nameless, faceless, entity with no-one and nothing to hold you back from engaging in whatever activity you desire.  Free time is usually when people get into trouble and I have no intention of getting into trouble.  So, time is my enemy and I am attempting to fill my time with activities and work and getting myself into shape.
I accept every invitation from friends that I receive.  Want to go out for dinner or have me over for dinner in the evening?  I'm in.  Want to watch football together?  I'm in.  Need some help on my days off?  I'm in.  I'm saying yes to opportunities to speak and lead worship for church events outside my direct area of responsibility.  I joined a gym.  I get up every morning at 5:45 and work out for 1 - 1 1/2 hours.  I spend long days in the office.  I constantly stay connected to my wife via text, phone calls, and Skype every evening.  I make sure that I Skype with my family every evening at roughly the same time.
See, time may be my enemy, but I have determined with God's help, to not let it defeat me.
I'm counting down the days until I fly up to see my family.  Every day is one day closer.  Time can't win that battle. It can't stop me from seeing them again.
I'm filling up my days with good things, making sure I hold myself accountable for my hours and what I do in those hours.  For me, that is something I need to do. Now that I think about it, that is a great way to live every day, regardless of where you live or what situation you live in.          

The Church in the World

Living alone in Vegas I am reminded, now more than ever, of the difficulty of attempting to navigate life while clinging to the teachings of a Jewish mystic who claimed to be the Son of God and whose followers grew from a few hundred in the first century A.D. to a now-almost-uncountable (unaccountable?) global force.  I am one of those followers and yet at the same time I am not blind to the faults, blemishes, and at times, downright un-Christian things said and done by these same followers in the name of the Son of God that leave me feeling like I have nothing in common with someone who could say or do those things. I get why people who are hurting and beat up and uncertain do not come streaming to the church in order to find healing and a place to re-orient their moral compasses.  (There are some churches that are full to overflowing and I am not attempting to comment on them or their theology. Instead I am commenting on a general attitude towards Christianity from those beyond its walls.  I know, I've been there.)  Judgment is not my strong suit.  Yet I follow a teacher who was unafraid to call people on their sin and offer them an alternative; one that they often accepted.  He didn't seem to invite hatred from those whom he held to account for their sins, except when it was the religious leaders whom he was holding to account. When He held them account they got so mad they killed him.  I follow a teacher who wasn't afraid to go to parties with addicts and prostitutes and corrupt government officials, wherever He was invited He went, and yet He managed to never betray His principles, His mission, or His identity.  Somehow he was able to speak truth into their lives in such a way that they gave up everything to follow Him.  He didn't antagonize, goad, or guilt people into giving up their way of life and doing it His way.  He didn't alienate people with his rhetoric or his judgement.  He didn't sit inside some beautiful manicured and landscaped office building in the middle of wealthy-suburban-America and write op-ed pieces or sermons about the decay of "traditional" values in the face of the secular onslaught of television and the internet.  He didn't spend his time or his energy organizing anti-gay rallies, picketing abortion clinics, or lobbying for tougher criminal penalties for marijuana use. Instead, he went to dinner with everybody (even the ultra conservative right wing fundamentalist Jewish religious establishment), and everywhere He went His message was the same: "Love the Lord Your God with all your heart, soul, mind, and strength and love your neighbor as yourself.  As I love you, so you should love each other."  I am floored by the power and the simplicity of it.  This doesn't mean that He was a wimp or wasn't man enough to act when action was called for, however I find it interesting that the only story where Jesus actually gets violent and angry is when He throws the money changers and lenders out of the Temple.  His anger wasn't aimed at people lost in sin and darkness, His anger was aimed at the religious establishment who were supposed to be leading people out of darkness and into light and who had, instead, become as evil and corrupt as the culture around them.  His anger wasn't directed at the addict who struggled daily to make sober choices, not with the prostitute who had no way out and no other way to survive, nor the corrupt official so far down the rabbit hole that he had no idea where to go or how to undo what was already a way of life; instead his anger was directed at the darkness itself, at evil in all its insidious forms, and also at the religious community who were supposed to offer protection, healing, and forgiveness in His name to those struggling through life.
Now, before you think I am writing some anti-church, anti-Christian piece, I need to tell you something: I love the church.  I have dedicated my life to serving the church.  I am a pastor.  I believe that the church is the instrument through which God demonstrates His love to the world.  I believe that the church should be the safest, greatest, and most influential organization on the planet.  I believe that wherever we go, when people find out we are Christians, they should automatically know that we are safe people who love this world and are seeking to end poverty, famine, economic and racial inequality, and injustice.  Sadly, however, this is the exception rather than the rule in Christian circles.  Several times I have become so disillusioned with Christianity as an enterprise or as a business or as a PR firm or as an entertainment venue, that I've walked away from it, occasionally in rather public and spectacularly poor ways.  Yet, no matter how far I walk away from Christianity, I can't escape the beauty and simplicity and love of the founder of Christianity.  I am drawn back to Christian community because I know Christ, and life with Him is far superior to life without Him.  I want the world to know Him and how superior life can be with Him and I believe that the best way for the world to see this is when Christian communities and churches and organizations begin to behave like their founder rather than like every other business out there.  Rather than knowing us because of what we oppose, the world should know us because of what we embrace.  We embrace forgiveness.  We embrace second-chances...and third chances.  We embrace that everyone is equal before God.  We embrace the idea that love, not hate, is what will ultimately change the world.  First we love the Wall Street banker who just stole our life savings, then we call that person to a higher way of thinking, to a life full of meaning and purpose, a life that is not centered on money, but on eternity.  First we love the adulterous spouse who just left his or her partner and children for someone half their age, then we call that person to a higher way of thinking, to a life full of meaning and purpose, a life that is not centered on pleasure or self-fulfillment, but on eternity. First we love ourselves, with all our lies, masks, fears, and hang-ups, then we follow our master, a Jewish mystic who rose from the dead, proving He was and IS the Son of God, to a higher way of thinking, to a more noble and honorable way of living, to a life based not on religion, but on Jesus and the eternity He offers.
That is the church in the world.  That is the church that I have dedicated my life to building.          

Insanity at the DMV

Today's blog is directed at what happens to you when you leave one country for an extended period of time and then return and attempt to get a driver's license.  A little background:  The DMV sucks.  It is a swarming mad-house of boredom, frustration, and loathing.  All I needed was a NV driver's license so that I could do basic stuff, like open a bank account, buy a car, get insurance...
I waited my obligatory 2 hours (yes, I did say two hours) and when at last my name was called (I imagine something similar to hearing your name called on the day of judgement....) I was informed that after waiting 2 hours, I would need to take a written test and a driving test before I could apply for my license.  Mother of all that is unholy!!!!  Did my ears deceive me?  I looked at the woman with what must have been a look of complete shock because she smiled and leaned closer and said more slowly, "you...have...been...out...of...the...country...for...longer...than...four...years...AND...we...don't...accept...Canadian...driver's...licenses...you...will...have...to...go...line...up...over...there...and...take...your...written...test...if...you...pass...you...can...schedule...a...driving...test"
What am I?  16?  Have I never driven a car before?  What, in Canada we only drive dog sleds on ice packs and because only 20 people live in any one city I've never seen a pedestrian cross walk or a traffic light or a stop sign before?  "IF" I pass?  "IF" I pass?  Seriously?  I tried to tell her that I drove in Las Vegas for 10 years and that I've been driving for 25 years, but the iron curtain of indifference had been lowered between us and she simply smiled and pointed to the little room in the back where all the 16 year olds in their Miley Cyrus haircuts and Laker hats on sideways were taking their tests.  I hung my head and slowly made my way to the "room of shame".
I decided to take a study book home and take the test a few days later.  First, because I needed to let my fury subside, and second, I had a sneaking suspicion that I might not actually pass a written test.
And so, today, I showed up bright and early to take my written test (before all the children came and clogged the system).  The first thing the lady asked when I handed her my form was "has your license been suspended?  Is this a renewal test for a revoked license?"  I guess I deserved it.  I am 44 standing in line with 16 year olds to take a written test.  I'd probably assume the 44 year old got hammered and drove over a fire hydrant and somebody's back yard on the way home from the game at his buddy's house too.  I smiled.  "No, I've been away for a while."  Ha!  Let her think I just got out of prison. That'll scare her for a while.  Then again, maybe not.  She had more tattoos than I have (which is none fyi).
Stupid questions on the test.  Stupid questions on the test.  They wanted to know about rules for bicycle drivers.  I am not here to answer questions about bicycle drivers.  They wanted to know what to do in case of a snow storm.  In Vegas?  Seriously?
10 minutes later I was done.  Passed.  Victory.  In the words of 49er coach Jim Harbaugh after Sunday's win over the Packers "You played like a champion out there today.  That was some eye of the tiger stuff today."  Yes it was coach, yes it was.  I was a champion today at the DMV.
Next I will tell you about my driving test.  But that is a blog for another day.

Shopping by yourself

So here I am in Vegas (notice the standard Vegas image I pulled off the internet just for the one of you who has been living in a hole under a rock somewhere and has never seen the strip before).  I have yet to even go near the strip (this is pretty standard once you have lived here for a while - and I did live here for almost ten years).  So, while I am not doing the standard tourist "visit-the-strip-go-to-every-casino-the-first-night-ritual" thing, I was initiated into a new and different ritual last night...going to the grocery store and shopping alone, for yourself, not for an entire family, so therefore not getting anything in bulk.  This was strange.  I didn't like it.  I felt strange.  I didn't know what to buy, and what is worse (or better), I was acutely aware of what everything cost.  I don't want to use my Canadian credit card and I haven't been to the bank to get a debit card for my US account, so I'm stuck using cash for a few days and so there I am mentally adding up every item as I put it in my cart.  "Hmmmm, that hairspray costs 50 cents less than that one but it has 12 oz more..." or "I don't really need three tomatoes, I can probably get away with two for the rest of the week..."  I had this internal conversation running inside my head the entire time I was in the store.  Probably 20 times I put something in my cart thinking that the kids would love this, or the kids will need this for their lunches, only to realize a short while later (usually while in another isle) that they aren't here right now and I don't need to buy the super-size box of individually packaged snack sized potato chips.  I probably spent an hour aimlessly walking up and down the isles and finally left with about six items.  Jo would be proud.  No sugary drinks, no candy, no donuts.  Next up: getting a driver's license at the hell known as the DMV and then the purchase of a new vehicle.  Stay tuned.     

Welcome to Vegas

It is now official. I am living in Vegas and Jo and the kids are living in Sherwood Park, Alberta, Canada. It is sureal. It still feels like I'll see them tonight for a movie and supper...only I won't. I have my Nevada cell phone number and I made sure it has unlimited talk and text to Canada (and Mexico - bonus if I knew anybody who lived there). So I can text Jo whenever I want and we can talk on fb whenever we get the chance, but still, I am realizing today how difficult this year will be. I want to fly home and see them all tomorrow. It's going to be a long month or two until I get the chance to do that.