Playing by the Rules

I was as excited as anyone when Kris won “American Idol.” I liked his humility, and, like a good American, I love the underdog. After that, friends sent me links to video of him singing hymns, but more importantly, popular evangelical worship songs. Those videos confirmed the rumors I’d been hearing. Kris isn’t the first, nor is he the last, Christian to appear on “American Idol.” There have been numerous contenders of their ilk before. Indeed evangelicalism has positioned plenty of people in prominent places in U.S. mass culture.

I’ve thought about Kris’ win a bit since then. In that time, I’ve begun wondering, “Have evangelicals hijacked television’s most popular show, or has TV hijacked evangelicalism?”*

In the end, I don’t think it’s one or the other. I think both have occurred to some degree.

This for me raises, more than others, the question of the church in power. In this case, power is not exercised through strength but through influence. Can the church exercise power rightly? How does the church function when it is the dominant power? Are cultural power structures antithetical to the way the church is supposed to function?

I don’t have the answers to that.

My sister made a good point when I raised this church-in-power conundrum. I was suggesting that the church’s role was to serve—period—not exercise authority. And she pointed out that influence can come through serving, but influence is not the reason for serving. Serving is its own end, but influence often is a byproduct. Look at Joseph or Daniel or Nehemiah. I think she’s right.**

So perhaps Kris will have some influence from his position as “American Idol.” In mass culture, I think it will be almost inconsequential. In the opportunities it brings him to personally rub shoulders with celebrities of all stripes, I hope he represents Jesus well.

Is the church in power a bad thing? My brother-in-law challenged me. I couldn’t support my reasons for saying Yes very well. A church that serves from a place of power could certainly be good for the people served under its authority.

I guess my big concern is for those (Kris’ fans, and followers of other popular evangelicals) who put their hopes not in the church’s service but in its power. That power, that influence, isn’t established by the church, nor by God. It’s defined by the culture in which the power is exercised. It’s power that is given by those who defer to it. The value system underlying that power is not like the church’s value system. So even while the church may be given that power, the people who give it likely do so based on values the church cannot stand for.

* It’s a bit disorienting to talk about cultural systems like they have human motives and strategies. Only people can have them. I doubt Kris set out to strike a blow to “the liberal TV media” or to chalk up a victory for Jesus. But I’m sure that many of his evangelical fans have seen it as a victory for the good guys. The same goes for the people sitting in board rooms doing the business of American Idol: I don’t think they’re looking to upend evangelicalism.

** But we get so focused on influence that we often begin to pursue that, at first through serving, but later more directly, more efficiently, without all the costs associated with serving. But I digress.

Sunday Morning Serving

Many people I talk to complain about the church they are part of. I feel lucky because I love my church. This weekend we are doing something that makes me proud. We are gathering on Sunday morning but the purpose of the gathering is to serve. How cool is that? Christians getting together to serve on a Sunday morning! It's an anomaly but it shouldn't be. I don't see why we don't gather together more often to "do outreach." Sure, singing, teaching, preaching, and the sacraments need to be practiced. But I think most churches would be more abundant and vibrant if they gathered once a month to serve others.

Also the nature of the service is quite unique. Chicago is home to the biggest gay pride parade in the country that takes place on the North Side. Some friends who live in an intentional community up there have a heart for gay, lesbian, and bi-sexual people. Often the only Christian presence that shows up are the ones with picket signs and angry words. So as an alternative we are going to hand out bottled water. Bottled water void of any "Christian" label or Bible verse. Imagine thousands of dollars worth of bottled water as an act of compassion. Just a practical way to love people because God first loved us.

Open Road

This spring I made a few trips home to Iowa. I decided to drive some different routes through western Illinois and eastern Iowa. In the process, I found a small town in western Illinois I really liked. Main Street is just one block off the old Lincoln Highway. It's a one-way street with bars, restaurants, and offices looking onto the street from curtained plate-glass windows. The names are handpainted on the glass.

While I liked the stark, dry storefronts and the local menus, I think something else attracted me to the town: anonymity. At the restaurant where I ordered an open-faced ham sandwich, they didn't take a credit card. I had to run to the ATM a block and a half west to withdraw cash. When I asked the waitress if she needed to hold on to my license or something, she looked at me, "Just come back." When I drove out of town, there was no receipt with my name or signature on it.

I savored my meal sitting alone at an oversized table against the wall. I exchanged pleasantries with my waitress, but nothing more. I ignored the locals as much as they ignored me. I made up stories about the house for sale along the highway on the way out of town. I imagined the neighbors rumbling away from the bar on Main in their unmufflered truck, and the gossip criss-crossing town. I wondered whether the local pastor of the community church was hoping one day to cast his nets into bigger ponds.

All the stereotypes I was planting alongside the highway as I left town gave me another reason to like the town: It was an escape. This was not my home, not my community. I had no reputation to live up to. These were not my people, not my friends. I had no responsibilities to follow through on. I was whoever I chose to be. I was undefined. That seemed like freedom, that place where I had only possibilities.

First Things

My first post in almost a month (thus, the welcome back). My excuse for the absence is explained with a series of first things:










First time ever in Boston. My friends documented it well here and here

First wedding of the year in Indiana

First time graduating from Seminary

First extended canoe trip from Wisconsin to Illinois

First time wearing a brown tuxedo in a West Virginia wedding. Props John!


Now I'm back and I'll tell you what is next but give me a second.

26 + 1 First Date = 27

I went on one date when I was 26. It had all the makings of a great first date. I was so excited. I’d met her through a friend and then run into her, a second time, at a bookstore. Having a mutual friend seemed promising for the chances. I love books so I figured meeting again in a bookstore gave us at least one more thing in common. She was reading a book by an author we both could quote, and she invited me to sit down. We talked for a while, even laughed.

After that we became friends on Facebook where the conversation continued. Things were looking good. Two weeks later we were on our first date. I had tickets to a play adapted from that same author’s works. I had found a little Argentinian café just down the street. I thought she was gorgeous, and she had said yes.

I picked her up and we drove a half-hour to the theater. As we talked, I learned that she’d thought about doing more schooling, getting a theology degree, but hadn’t taken the plunge. She said she was frustrated with her big church. It was too big and impersonal. I resonated with that sentiment. I was tired of big church too. And her interest in school, in theology, resonated in me too. I loved serious thinking, about anything, but especially about God.

Smart. Beautiful. Spiritual. Everything seemed to add up. I couldn’t have orchestrated things better if I’d been a control freak.

We got to the theater a few minutes late. I apologized. The usher led us in and we slipped into the back row quietly. We hushed to hear the actor’s voice. The audience was rapt.

When the play let out, it was still early, too early to really be hungry. So we passed the café and kept walking, talking. We found ourselves 5 blocks down, looking at a red light, on a blank corner. I looked around, nothing promised anything better. We turned around and retraced our steps to the café.

There were blank silences as we drove home. I let them hang, hoping out of the emptiness something more genuine might emerge. We sat waiting for a green light with nothing to say. I dropped her off, and we thanked each other for the evening and the company.

I was at a loss. I couldn’t find an explanation. I’d done the math and it worked out nicely. It made sense. But the flat contour of the whole evening told a different story. The math worked, but the chemistry didn’t. I couldn’t explain it more than that.

Is Blessing the Carrot or the Donkey?

(Continued from "Grasping Forward" and "Giving to the Poor: The Two Big Issues.")

God promises blessing.

In the Old Testament God consistently promises to bless Israel’s obedience. This is not only a spiritual sort of blessing. It’s not even necessarily blessings of peace and love among people. God’s promised blessings are those things, but they are also expressly material blessing. Passages like Genesis 24:35-36, Leviticus 26:4-13, and Deuteronomy 28:3-15 point us to a concept of blessing that includes “prosperity and well-being; long life, wealth, peace, good harvests and children” (The Mission of God, 209). These aren’t the blessings we church kids learned about in Sunday school.

This reality about God’s blessing confuses the matter of poverty for me. One might ask, “Well, are they poor because their disobedient?” If that were the case, then we would all be in poverty. Are the wealthy pleasing God that he blesses them? That doesn’t make sense either. We can’t draw straight lines from obedience to blessing. So, let’s set that question aside.

Instead, I have a more basic question. It’s sort of connected. “Why does God bless us?” In other words, “What does God want to accomplish through his blessing?”

Most often, we think of blessing as the reward for our obedience. Obedience is the means. Blessing is the end. Or, “Obedience = Blessing.” The problem we continually run into is that we obey but we don’t receive blessing. Obedience doesn’t equal blessing with any reliability. Finally, we give up obeying because we’re not seeing the benefits.

The question I’m asking moves the blessing from an end to a means. Instead of thinking about blessing as a reward, I wonder if it may be a means to another end. So we have, “Obedience + Blessing = ?” In effect, I’m asking, What if blessing is the means to another end?

What if God withholds his blessing because we believe it is the end and not the means? When we see it as the end, we won’t do anything with it except revel in it. If this isn’t God’s intent when he blesses us, then what is?

Maybe that old adage has the right idea: “To whom much is given, much is expected.” If that’s the case, then it’s vital to figure out what we’re supposed to do with God’s blessing.

You can't force it.

(Continued from "How's the Reception?" and "Programmatic Prayers")

After the sermon concluded, the program cut to an empty sanctuary with the pastor in one of the aisles. He was wearing khakis and an open-collared shirt—two buttons undone—instead of his suit jacket and open-collared shirt—two buttons undone. Now for a personal message from the preacher to his television audience.

"You matter to God, and. . .” He paused. The next phrases seemed obvious, but I sensed a hesitation. Was there another thing to say that could seem natural? He continued. "You matter to us.” Apparently not. “If I could come into your house, come into your kitchen, and have a cup of coffee with you, I would. But I just can't do that with everyone who watches this program. But I want you to know God loves you. He's got a plan for you. You're important to him, you're important to others.”

The contradictions here made for an awkward moment, even for the pastor, alone with his camera crew. It’s hard to earnestly care for people you can’t see or even imagine. I sensed, not in his words but in his delivery, that he struggled to find a place of honesty from which to deliver his lines. I do not think he was disingenuous, but he was simply face-to-face with the limitations of his medium. He was desperately trying to overcome them. Instead of saying, “You matter to me,” he said, “You matter to us.” The interpersonal element could not be established nor sustained using television. Who’s this “us” that you matter to? The TV programming crew? His church’s staff? Who’s “you”? Is it you the individual, or is it “y’all” (as Hipps points out)?

The mass medium of television is just that. It’s for the masses, not the individual. Attempts to speak to the individual from a television nearly always seem ridiculous. Even when experienced politicians speak to the individual, it’s a sort of "grouped individual," not the personal individual. They say things like, “If you’re facing credit cards bills you can’t pay . . .” or “When the doctor says you can’t work and your employer says you can’t stay home. . .” It’s all these hypothetical statements to general audiences. Sometimes they even clarify by saying, “you, the American people.” It’s the best they can do.

And it’s the best this pastor could do. “You matter to us.” The church isn’t meant to be a mass culture like that. If a church-goer is always and only among the “y’all” and never the “you,” then the community has failed. It is likely both the fault of the church and the fault of the individual, but the TV medium can never avoid that failure, whereas even a megachurch leave the possibility open. For that reason alone, the nature of the TV medium runs contrary to the nature of the church. That’s why the pastor paused, why he had to say “us” instead of “me,” and why he could not pierce the medium and establish a relationship with me. He was trying to send a message that the medium could not transmit. He was trying to force a camel through the eye of a needle. That’s where God has to get involved.

Okay God, we'd love to have you show up and work through this. You've got a 30-second window. Go.

Giving to the Poor: The Two Big Issues

If I break down Jesus’ command a bit, I find myself faced with two major dimensions I need to resolve. The first is giving time and/or money. The second is the identity of the poor.

Jesus command is more complex that just giving money. I wonder if I should be instead giving time, or giving time and money. I’d rather just give money. But that desire alone tells me that I should probably give my time. It’s something I want for myself, which is reason tells me it’s still a place where I don’t want God to be. Giving my time means making sacrifices elsewhere. It also means new relationships and the new commitments that come with them. It requires more than money. It requires me. I’m much more selfish about giving part of myself. Money is just money.

The third issue for me is the poverty issue itself. I think this is embedded in the broader justice issue being discussed in Christian circles. Economic equality is a trendy issue among the progressive faithful (and in the broader culture to some degree). I live on the edges of those circles, so I see bits and pieces, catch glimpses. But I’m still not convinced.

Here’s why. I tend to side a bit more with fundamentalists in this regard. I do see other priorities trumping this one. The question isn’t whether giving to the poor is a good thing. Clearly, it is. It’s a question of whether it’s the best thing. If I could only choose one or the other, which is most important? (Fortunately, it’s not an either/or. It can be a both/and!) In truth, I’ve answered that question already in the ways I allocate my time now. I give to my church faithfully and serve in a Bible study. I feel like the rich young ruler when I say that. He said, “I have kept all these things since I was a child.” That’s my fundamentalist side.

However, I think the fundamentalists have failed by nearly eliminating serving the poor altogether. (“You still lack one thing,” Jesus responded.) Economic equality and social justice are worthwhile causes, and I feel that to be balanced—or at least, more faithful—I should be supporting them in some way. I need to strike that balance then by adding an emphasis on social justice to what I’m already doing.

So then, what does this look like? How poor is poor enough? And why isn’t giving my money good enough? I mean, are we talking Chicago homeless poor, or are we talking Haiti poor? Are we talking mission poor, or garbage-dump slums poor? How poor do they have to be to qualify?

Are these even the right questions?

How to find the love of your life.

I just had that conversation.

“How's your love life?”
“Anemic” was the adjective I chose.
“Anemic? Oh, that sounds bad.”
“Well that’s how it feels.”
“You know, I found my husband when I wasn’t looking for him.”
“Hmm. Well, I’m always looking.”
“Maybe you should stop looking.”

Nothing like the paradoxical relationship logic of finding a spouse.

Grasping Forward

I’m trying to decide. Maybe you can help.

I told a friend, it’s like grasping in the dark. I don’t even know what questions to ask. I’m just trying to get a sense of what’s in the room. I’m feeling around for ANYTHING.

In this case, for me it starts with figuring out what Jesus really means when he says, “Go. Sell everything you have. Give the money to the poor.” I don’t want to rationalize it away. I mean to take it seriously, but I need to know whether Jesus means it literally or figuratively.

Strangely, those who would stereotypically take it literally are not the fundamentalists (that is, the literalists). Instead it’s the churches often most at odds with fundamentalists who would turn out to be the literalists with Jesus’ words here. The fundamentalists would affirm this Jesus’ command, but would then quickly prioritize so many other things ahead of it and argue that spiritual needs are much more important, that they would effectively squeeze out a literal obedience to meeting the needs of the poor. I know it. That’s where I’ve lived. That’s where I’m coming from.

But now I’m in between, looking both ways, seeing both sides, and feeling torn. So I’m trying to decide. For me, this is the next step into deeper obedience, renewed faithfulness. That’s why I need to answer the question and resolve the issue.

Maybe the answer isn’t either/or—literal versus figurative. Maybe it’s both. That’s a good likelihood. So then, it’s important to determine which one is most important now. Maybe for me specifically, or maybe for us as Christians in a flat global village, or maybe for us in the western suburbs.

I’m trying to decide. Maybe you can help.

Programmatic Prayers

(Part One: "How's the Reception?")

The TV pastor concluded his message on being available to God through prayer this way. "I want you to bow your head and close your eyes with me." He adjusted his sleeve and checked his wristwatch. "Just for a moment. Just for brief moment. I want you to pray with me."

More absurdity. Here the preacher was telling me to take time, turn off the television, make space for God to speak, for me to pray. But what I saw was a preacher squeezing in a prayer before the show ended. No matter whether I had been watching in my living room or sitting in the audience, I saw a preacher who sincerely believes that we need to make time to pray but was unwilling to use the church gathering as one of those times. (If not with the gathered church, then when?)

The programmatic nature of many churches these days inhibits to opportunity for God to actually be in control. There's a schedule to maintain. When it's necessary to finish on time in order to turn over the parking lot and start the next service on time, the movement of the Holy Spirit (of God himself) gets squeezed. Okay God, we'd love to have you show up and work among us, but you've got a 2-minute window for that to happen. Go.

Again what the preacher said was contradicted by the context in which he said it. This conflict undermined the message he wanted people to take home. Instead of using the medium, or reforming the medium to reinforce his message, the medium stood at odds with the message. The message could be powerfully communicated if the medium were aligned to drive it home.

A Good Friend

Did you know there are only 5 weekends in May? I realized that last night while talking with some friends. Now I'm challenged with being in two different states for two different commitments during the same weekend.

That's a good example of my life recently...the last weeks I've been pleasantly occupied but frustrated.

In this jumble I haven't been a very good friend lately. Last night, after realizing I'm going to have to make some phone calls, I started thinking about a lot of my friends....when was the last time we hung out...oh, I forgot to call him back...did he ever hear back about that job offer?...when is her graduation?...we need to get coffee like we use to...

I don't hear people talk about what makes a good friend. I'm not sure why. We have all kinds of relational books, even in the "Christian World," but not many about friendship. What makes for a good friend?


Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. ¹⁴You are my friends if you do what I command. ¹⁵I no longer call you servants, because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have called you friends, for everything that I learned from my Father I have made known to you. John 15:13-15

How's the reception?

We have a Christian television channel, TBN maybe, in our cable package at my apartment. Every once in a while I stop there. T. D. Jakes and Joel O are two I enjoy getting riled up listening to. I certainly don't endorse a regular diet of them, but I've come to realize that they are lightning rods for criticism, often without honest consideration. Christians are good at doing that, myself among them regularly.

I was flipping through the channels today. I came across a preacher I've never heard of. I had no intent to stop and listen. But what he said caught my attention. He was preaching on "Seven Secrets to Victorious Living." In today's message, he was talking about being available to God in prayer. The first thing I heard him say was this: "If there were just a few who were willing to turn off their TVs to listen and be available to pray. . ."

I didn't catch results he promised. The irony--absurdity even--of what he said distracted me. If I turned off my TV, then I wouldn't be watching this program, listening to this sermon, I thought. This left me with two possible interpretations of what he actually meant.

The first possibility was that he meant that I should turn off the TV after I'm done listening to him. If this is the case, then he doesn't actually mean turn off the TV no matter what. He means turn off the TV under certain circumstances. But he leaves those circumstances open for me to figure out. He's not saying, "Don't watch TV." He's saying, "Watch the right kind of TV programming." Taken too far, I could conclude that I don't actually need to turn off the TV if I simply find enough of the right kind of programming.

The second possibility was that he meant that it would be worth my time to turn the TV off--even his sermon--and pray. If that's the case, then I wonder why he's on TV in the first place, if nothing on TV is really as important as prayer. Again, taken too far, I might conclude that spending time alone in prayer is more valuable than listening to a sermon--including one heard in church.

The contradictions between the medium and the message simply baffled me. It's like preaching one thing and practicing another. We have labels for people who's words and actions don't line up. I'm not saying this preacher doesn't absolutely believe what he's saying about turning off the television, whatever he's actually saying. I'm saying that he's failing to see how the way he's communicating it contradicts what he's saying. His medium and his message are in conflict.

Guess I'm Urban

Earlier today I posted the following

http://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Verocious

I meant to save the draft as a reminder, not post it! I'm writing a paper on Fasting and Consumerism/Capitalism and wrote, "

Whether the meal is entertainment, shopping [...] we ferociously inhale the world around us.

I couldn't think of the word ferocious or the word vicious. So I just figured verocious was a word. It's not, but the urban dictionary thinks it is!

Fear about Love

Andrew Peterson is one of my favorite song writers. While riding my bike home from work on Tuesday this line from his song, "Just as I Am," struck me

It's the fear that His love is no better than mine.

I shared this with my small group the next night...

My love is quite conditional. I'll love you if you love me. If you reciprocate my feelings, my words, my efforts back to me than all I got is love for you.

However, if you don't there won't be much love flowing from me. Worse, if you wrong me (well, I'll try not to wrong you back) I won't love you. I'll despise you, abhor you, and the last thing I'll do is pray for you.

Sound harsh? I think it sounds true of the human condition. The thing with my love is that it is about Mike. I can give and give and give but if I don't feel valued in return than I can grow and grow and grow in resentment. Why? Because I'm not being validated, because I have been wronged.

But God doesn't love like me. God gives and gives and gives and often I reject that love. God does get frustrated and angry and upset. It might boil into discipline but it is never subtracted from love. The truth is that despite my rejection God continues to pursue. Because God's love is not about God's self but about the ones he loves. That is unconditional.

Cut and Paste Bible

The strength of the Bible is the unity in the text. So at times I like to re-mix it and put verses together that speak into my life. Obviously this could be detrimental if you take it out of context but what I did below holds the integrity of the passages.

So try reading it all together


Am I now trying to win human approval, or God's approval? Or am I trying to please people? If I were still trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ. (Gal 1.10) Are we beginning to commend ourselves again? Or do we need, like some people, letters of recommendation to you or from you? (2 Cor 3.1) See to it that no one takes you captive through hollow and deceptive philosophy, which depends on human tradition and the basic principles of this world rather than on Christ. (Col 2.8)

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above. (Col 3.1b) In Christ you have been brought to fullness. He is the head over every power and authority (Col 2.10) Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold (2 Cor 3.12).

Conviction: Saying no to a good thing

Some time back, Mike and I heard about an indie documentary making the rounds called, "Call and Response." It's in that trendy genre of documentaries that are advancing a specific cause, usually attempting to bring awareness to an injustice being suffered somewhere in the world.

We didn't even see it, just heard about it. That was enough for Mike to say, "I can't see that film. Then I'll have another thing to feel convicted about, and I'll have to do something."

I resonated with that. Don't you? There are a lot of good causes out there.

Yesterday, at work, we had a presentation from a group called "The Lost Boys Rebuilding in Southern Sudan." I already told their stories to some other friends. The Lost Boys gained notariety from, among other things, a 60 Minutes episode devoted to their story. 27,000 boys under the age of 13 fled their homes to avoid being killed by the government. They travelled 3 months, 1000 miles, to Ethiopia. They faced threats of lions, hyenas, and crocodiles. Many were killed by these predators as they tried to escape the hunt of their fellow human beings.

That was the late 80s. They were my age. While I was going to kindergarten and coloring pictures and playing cowboys and indians, they were fending off man and animal. Now, they've grown up into men, my peers. They're using their notariety to gain support and build new schools and dig new wells in southern Sudan. These are good things, great causes, worth my time, energy, money, and conviction.

I feel like Mike though. I can't be convicted about every good thing that cross my path. I can't spread myself that thin emotionally or financially. I don't let myself be.

But I could do more than I do now. I'm so privileged. But where do I draw the line? I know I could do more, but when am I doing enough? Is it ever enough? No. But at what point do I start saying no to good things?

Instead I default to saying no unless I'm really compelled to say yes. Maybe it should be the other way around. Maybe yes should be my default. Does anyone out there have a good paradigm they use for choosing?

Going to War

This isn't something most Christians talk about but it's on my heart. The more I grow into God's grace the more I feel attacked.

Something often ignored in much of Western Christianity is spiritual warfare (especially some of my peace tradition background). It wasn't until a couple of weeks ago I considered it more fully. Ironically it was the physical indicators that lead me there.

There was about one month straight where I was sick. Just physically beat up from the flu, sinus infection, a busted up head, and some ankle stuff from soccer. Evil works in hidden ways far beyond our medical dictionaries and it makes sense that our bodies feel the effects. The whole Platonic spiritual/physical dichotomy is a gross misrepresentation of humanity. We are whole people, not sectioned selves.

Underneath all those ailments is this battle over the future. It has been an incredibly hard practice to just poke along towards graduation. No firm job, plans, or place to go. Just a vision, some like minds, and a lot of waiting. The more I doubt and get anxious and worry the more I try to flee God.

In light of the past "attacks," the last month has been one of the most fruitful periods in the last year. It's great to hear God anew and there has been some awesome things in my life revealed and cultivated. But as soon as God's Word comes so does a rival voice of doubt. As soon as God's blessings are realized they become twisted and convoluted. As soon as praise is shouted so is worry. As soon as rest comes so does unrest.

I can't help but be didactic through this testimony. When doubt, worry, unrest, and lies come go to God. Before you get your friend or family's advice seek God. Before you try to fix the problem seek Scripture. Before you rationalize get on your knees in prayer. Before you move quickly try to fast. Before you forget remember you died and your life is now hidden with Christ in God. (Colossians 3:3)

Trust: A Breath of Fresh Air

I’m continuing to read Jesus on Leadership. It continues to be worth my time.

Trust is the key idea I read about today. Primarily the author, Wilkes, talks about the trust that followers must have in their leaders. He talks about the level of trust James and John had in Jesus when they said to him, “We want you to do for us whatever we ask.”

At first, that doesn’t sound like trust, it sounds like selfishness. But I think trust allows people to say what they think or feel without fear. This sort of trust is a huge freedom and a valuable benefit in a relationship.

Last week, I bought a new car. Mike drove me over to pick it up before a meeting he had that evening. When he got home from the meeting, it was late, about 10pm.

“Do you want to go for a ride?” I asked. I just needed a reason and someone to share the experience with. But it wasn’t an overwhelming desire, just something that sounded fun.

After a pause, Mike said, “Honestly, not really.”

“That’s fine,” I said. I wasn't hurt. It was just a suggestion. I was glad he’d trusted me enough to be honest and not just appease me by doing something he didn’t want to do.

Honesty requires trust and that’s what James and John had with Jesus. They were willing to be selfish and not fear judgment or shaming from Jesus. Jesus, they knew, would accept them no matter what—selfishness and all.

We need that sort of trust, those sorts of relationships, in our lives. Wilkes says it well, “Trust destroys an atmosphere of control and creates an air of freedom.”

Take a deep breath. Let your pinched shoulders relax.

More here.

"You can't run away from your feelings!"

Once I got a coaster for being part of a wedding. It said, "Wherever you go, go with all your heart." I really disdained it. Your heart will mislead you everytime, I thought. A fool follows his heart and ends up ruined.

Feelings can be scary. My feelings have gotten me in trouble all too often. I don’t trust them very much. They’ve led me in the wrong direction more than once.

But I can’t resist or deny the idea that God shows up in very emotional ways in the Bible. He’s angry and loving. He grieves about things and hates things. He’s jealous and joyful. God’s an emotional being, take it or leave it.

It’s hard to get a clear understanding of how God could be emotional. I don’t trust emotions much, but they’re part of who God is. I feel a lot of ugly emotions, but God is righteous and good. Feelings seem like a paradox between my experience and God’s personality.

The reason I’m thinking about this is that I just finished Feeling Like God. I wanted to give it a quick read because it’s an area of interest of mine, so I wanted to see what Chris Tiegreen had to say. This was the problem he was trying to resolve. We have a high level of trust in rational thinking and enlightened reason, and our emotions are just sort of a scatterplot graph of BB gun shots. We’re happy if our emotions make it on the graph.

There was some good stuff in the book. If you don’t mind I’ll share just a couple thoughts that relate here.

First, we tend to trust our reason much more than we trust our emotions. Is this right and good? Tiegreen asks, How many times have you been wrong about something you remembered, concluded, or believed? Plenty, right?

“What’s our response when this happens? We certainly don’t lament the unreliability of human reason and decide that it should never become the basis for our decisions.” No, “we press ahead in our quest for knowledge.” The same should be true, Tiegreen says, in how we treat our emotional dimension, “acknowledge its fallibility and continue to develop it as a powerful asset.” Haven’t emotions carried us to do courageous things, risk amazing triumphs, build beautiful new paths? Why does love have reasons that reason does not know? “Why,” asks Tiegreen, “do we decide that the flaws outweigh the useful benefits?”

I think he makes a good point here. Believing that our emotions are more prone to failure than our thoughts, that our minds are more susceptible than our hearts, simply doesn’t make sense. Both are broken by sin, redeemable by God. We need to use both humbly, but we need to nurture both to thrive and grow and guide us as we seek to be more like God.