tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76219961266837466782024-02-08T05:50:31.634-05:00Simple RadicalsAllen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.comBlogger54125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-27579005249943848892014-12-15T14:47:00.003-05:002014-12-15T14:52:09.767-05:00Leaving ChurchI am a pastor and I am ready to leave church. My words fail me: frustrated, apathetic, uninspired, irrelevant, disillusioned, meaningless, formulaic, contrived, empty, directionless, impotent, ineffectual, disconnected, pointless, dissonant...<br />
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Honestly, what the hell are we doing? Say what you will, but I'm pretty sure when Jesus said the Kingdom of God has come near he didn't mean spend an hour in worship, attend a small group, or volunteer for a service project. I am so sick of the disconnect between our religious activities and our every day lives. We talk and talk about discipleship, mission, and outreach but we devote all of our time, money, and resources to programs or services that either placate nominal Christians or keep them spiritually immature or co-dependent.<br />
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Seriously how many worship services, small groups, or service projects do we have to attend before we are ready to go out into the big bad world with all of the "lost," "unchurched," "sinners?" How much "fellowship" or "devotion" time is necessary before we can muster enough courage to be friends with a non-Christian, to have dinner with a neighbor, or to stand up for the vulnerable?<br />
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I am sorry but getting people to "go to church" was never the plan. God didn't come to grow a congregation or to employ vocational ministers, He came to transform all of creation. Through His life, death, and resurrection Jesus was and is making all things new, and through his life, death, and resurrection He has invited others to do the same.<br />
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The church was never the goal nor was it intended to be the location for or provider of religious goods and services. The church was and will always be those messy people who believe and behave in such a way that souls are reborn, hearts are mended, relationships are reconciled, and lives are restored.<br />
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I never guessed I'd have to leave the church in order to be the church.<br />
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<br />Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-4255917535054527552014-09-16T22:49:00.002-04:002014-09-16T22:53:32.646-04:00Jelly, Jam, and PreservationOn Monday I had breakfast with Jim Yost missionary to Papua, Indonesia. He's devoted a lifetime to following Jesus wherever he might lead. From the Jungle to the city, Jim and his family have sought to live at the intersection of what God was doing in their personal lives and what he was doing in the world. Jim embodies the simplicity of the life lived with God. From his perspective, life and faith are simple, "listen to the Father then do what he says."<br />
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Jim's faith formula is complicated: <b>Step 1</b> - listen; <b>Step 2</b> - respond; <b>Step 3</b> - repeat steps 1 and 2.</div>
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Nearly four decades later, Jim and his family have seen and experienced the miraculous. The fruit of their faithfulness can be measured in the 10's, the 100's, and the 1000's. <br />
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I on the other hand have a formula that's more concerned with preserving fruit than producing it. My faith formula is like the jelly of the month club. I take a little Jesus, mix it with some self-interest and personal security, and let it simmer over the low heat of my half-hearted devotion. <br />
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Listening to God and doing what he says seems a little too simplistic and risky to me. I think I prefer self-preservation...you know it's that fruit we can and seal and spread on our bland lives when we crave a little flavor. Jim Yost may have a stand full of fruit, but I have a pantry full of fruit preserves (I just hope mine doesn't expire).</div>
Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-64047466764429053922014-08-18T23:25:00.000-04:002014-08-18T23:25:33.581-04:00Mo Money!The mainline church is dying in America because of one simple reason. The reason ain't culture. It ain't pluralism. It ain't New Atheism, or any of the other excuses church leaders propose. The simple answer is the church is dying because of money. Some say money makes the world go round but in the church it makes the church go down. Behind the smoke and mirrors of Sunday worship, children's programs, youth retreats, and heart-wrenching short-term mission trips is money. Make no mistake about it the church in America is an institution and like most institutions it has become more obsessed with its survival than its mission. As an institution, the church has accumulated and developed all the accoutrements an institution needs to exist. It needs professionally trained managers, systems and programs that encourage conformity and the status quo, a pacified constituency adverse to risk and devoted to safety, and a prevailing message that equates success with serving the needs and the "mission" of the institution. But above all else an institution needs money and this need drives nearly every decision whether explicit or implicit. Herein lies the problem and why the institutional church is dying. Jesus and his mission is all that God will accept as the impetus for the church, its form, and its function. To reduce the Kingdom of God coming near to a building, a budget, or a brand is to reduce the work of God in Christ to a late night comedy skit long forgotten, "Mo Money! Mo Money! Mo Money!" <div>
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Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-22312692036355533632014-08-11T15:46:00.003-04:002014-08-11T15:46:40.024-04:00A Good Kick in the TeethMetaphorically speaking, when was the last time you were kicked in the teeth? When was the last time your self-assurance, over-confidence, or false sense of reality came crashing down? The past year has been for me one kick after another. Let me share a few self-discoveries from my chiclets being rearranged. First and most surprising, the world actually doesn't revolve around me...shocking but true. Second, having the title "Reverend" in front of your name does not make you more important or necessary than the other 7 billion people living on the planet. Third, we are all self-deceived and the most toxic self-deceptions are born out of religiosity. Fourth (an extension of #3), the pursuit of religion is a house of cards waiting to crumble. Fifth, there is a God who wants to be your Father. His love is incomparable, incomprehensible, unmistakable, life-altering, and never ceasing. It doesn't run from pain or hide from darkness. It doesn't need excuses or look for faults. It doesn't shift with the tides or change with the wind. With my teeth hanging on by a thread, I have learned there is a Father who doesn't ostracize, exclude, deny, or discriminate; but who wants to love personally, intimately, and for all eternity. Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-76506605382806420702013-11-27T11:52:00.003-05:002014-08-11T15:56:22.918-04:00Pope Francis - Thank You<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12px; line-height: 20.390625px;">For Thanksgiving 2013, I want to thank Pope Francis for his courage to lead and love like Jesus. "I prefer a church which is bruised, hurting and dirty because it has been out on the streets, rather than a Church which is unhealthy from being confined and from clinging to its own security." <a href="http://religion.blogs.cnn.com/2013/11/26/pope-calls-for-big-changes-in-the-church/?hpt=hp_t2">Read More...</a></span></span><br />
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Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-17500543777073704302013-07-19T00:45:00.000-04:002014-08-11T15:56:59.830-04:00Louder Than Words<img src="webkit-fake-url://245E6770-DA58-4DA5-B06B-74391AD94DB5/imagejpeg" /><br />
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Enough said.<br />
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Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-62297302034864959552013-07-08T01:46:00.001-04:002013-07-08T01:59:14.555-04:00Commercials, Snapshots, and SelfiesWhether it takes a few seconds or a solid minute, the meaning and value of our lives is shaped by commercials, snapshots, and selfies. That commercial runs with the too perfect family bonding as they trek hand in hand through Home Depot for that just right DIY weekend project. "Hey honey what do you say we build a new stone patio with a pre-engineered swing set for the kiddos right next to it on our perfectly manicured lawn?" Moments later the family is hard at work in the back yard. Dad pauses ever so briefly from the final touches on the three story swing set to rustle little Tommy's hair. Dad's lilly white teeth gleam in the evening sun as his gaze rests on his wife and daughter as they tidy up the freshly laid stone patio. The aerial view pulls away and a voice assures us..."You can do it. We can help." I feel so empowered.<br />
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Or what about that SUV snapshot in your favorite magazine. It has the mom with the figure no woman possesses who has actually given birth to two kids. She's fit and fashionable, pretty hip for a mom. She holds the door open as her exuberent kids pile into her rugged yet refined SUV with third row seating, hands free infotainment, and heated seats. The tween girl in her soccer outfit has a look of practiced patience as her little brother attempts to dive passed her into the SUV violin case in tow. Mom holding the door open for the kids looks at her tween daughter with a knowing shrug and smile. <br />
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Or what about the ever popular selfie. I can take a picture of my self with my cutting edge digital device and post it on social media. I can capture myself being or doing something that is super cool or outrageous. I can capture myself looking like the person I really want to be and broadcast that to the world...that's who I am right now for all the world to see and in a few minutes I'll be someone else for all the world to see...and in a few minutes...<br />
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How much of our lives is measured by sound-bites? How much of our value is based on expectations or standards portrayed in commercials, snapshots, and selfies? Be honest. It never lives up to the hype. Maybe for a brief fleeting moment you live the dream, but more often than not you are left empty, underwhelmed, or dissatisfied. If you're willing to be straight up you got all kinds of hopes and expectations that are being dashed on a daily basis. Do you know where all those unmet expectations are coming from? The car didn't do it. The new house didn't fill you up. Living through your kid wasn't the answer and neither was that personal trainer or Botox injection. Like a kid playing on a perfectly constructed pre-engineered swing set I "double-dog" dare you to ask, "Where are my standards and expectations coming from?" Be careful that's a rabbit hole that might just wreck you.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-11750585225322539132013-07-06T01:53:00.001-04:002013-07-06T01:53:41.187-04:00GlissonYesterday I picked up my oldest son from his week at Camp Glisson. They end the week with a brief celebration where we parents get to <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">listen to our kids sing crazy camp songs and w</span>atch a highlight reel of the week's activities. The celebration ends with all of the counselors holding hands forming a circle around the campers and singing a final song of farewell. This year tears welled in my eyes as the counselors sang, "I'll be praying for you every morning as I start off the day with the Lord. I'll be praying that you're walking with Jesus and abiding in his Word." <br />
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My tears were brimming with awe and gratitude. I was overcome by the awe-inspiring grace of a God who didn't simply transform my life he transformed my entire family. Not only did Jesus alter the course of my life he altered the course of my wife and children. As the counselors' farewell filled the musty air, I was reminded that my oldest son was five when Jesus began to change my life. I couldn't help but wonder where we would be today had we not stepped through the doors of Mount Pisgah UMC some eleven years ago. I was filled with an uncontainable gratitude. How do you say thank you for a new destiny? How do you say thank you for a new life? How do you say thank you for a resurrection?<br />
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I'm not sure it's possible but I intend to spend my life giving it a try.<br />
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Click <a href="http://m.youtube.com/#/watch?v=ky0V56wTHEs&desktop_uri=%2Fwatch%3Fv%3Dky0V56wTHEs">here</a> for the counselor farewell song.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-30005721614707993482013-06-21T12:13:00.000-04:002013-06-21T12:15:50.720-04:00How Quickly We ForgetI guess what I can't understand is how quickly we forget. Yesterday I listened to three people I love and respect go full disclosure. The first, just watched her family go "Jerry Springer" after the death of her mother. The second is a widowed grandma locked in a custody battle over her young grandson with her drug addicted daughter. The third is a young man struggling with suicide, self- harm, and his sexual identity. One of them remarked, "Is there any family out there that isn't dysfunctional? Why do we spend so much time trying to act like we aren't?" Another voiced their frustration with our labels especially our Christian labels.<br />
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Why can't we remember how jacked up we really are? Why can't we remember that we are all flawed searching for answers about who we are, why we are here, and what comes next? From the Hindu, Muslim, and Atheist to the gay, straight, and bi-sexual; we are all born into circumstances for which we have no control. We all enter the world as fragile infants desperate for nurture, care, and love. From our first cry to our last breath, we are human. From Baghdad to Boston, Syria to Singapore, we are human. From joy to despair, triumph to tragedy, love to hate, we are human. I guess what I can't understand is how quickly we forget...Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-83276216810533882902013-05-25T11:58:00.000-04:002013-05-25T11:58:29.844-04:00The Space BetweenIn 2010 CNN selected Narayanan Krishnan as one of it <i>Heroes. </i>Krishnan is an extraordinary individual who willing traded a promising career as a chef to feed the homeless and forgotten in his hometown of Madurai, India (<a href="http://m.youtube.com/watch?v=ZiC_9RHTvsA">Watch video</a>). I'm captivated by Krishnan. He makes love look simple. He feeds the hungry. He bathes the filthy. He touches the untouchable. There is a beauty in Krishnan's simplicity that awakens within me something long forgotten. Deep in my bones a memory like a distant echo calls out, "You were made to create not destroy...<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">You were made to give not take...</span><span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">You were made to love not hate." </span><br />
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
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<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);"><br /></span>
<span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">People like Krishnan help me navigate the space between. Their light penetrates the horizon of my darkness. They illumine and outline the silhouette of what could be. Their heart is my hope, and my hope is to one day have their heart.</span>Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-7252946978061012122013-04-24T00:26:00.000-04:002013-04-26T18:51:33.719-04:00What the World Needs NowI'm gonna have to drop the facade. The world don't need another 4G bigger than your flat screen mounted on your living room wall smart phone. It don't need another pop star hitting number one on iTunes today drowned out by my Lucky Charms tomorrow (they're magically delicious!). It don't need another self-help book by Oprah, Dr. Oz, T.D. Jakes, or that dude who squints a lot out in Houston. It don't need another reality TV show with bachelors, Botox, or bayous. It don't need another slick politician toeing the party line, name dropping on the networks, turning a blind eye. It don't need another movie about hauntings, hangovers, or heroes. Or a gillion-dollar contract for an athlete more doped than a commune in California. It don't need another tweet, update, or post (Hypocrite City pop. Me!). It don't need another steeple, stain glass window, worship leader in skinny jeans, or a too old pastor wearing black-framed glasses and a cardigan. <br />
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The world needs love...yeah I went there. It needs love that don't quit. Love that don't stop. Love that don't sleep, slumber, or slip. Love that don't tap out, pass out, or give out. Love that don't fade. Love that don't run. Love that don't dip. Love that don't hesitate, think twice, or flip. What the world needs now is love.</div>
Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-3611784939949725482013-04-13T13:53:00.002-04:002013-04-13T13:59:11.967-04:00Gravity Words possess a certain gravity, a force that pulls, pushes, and shapes. In Jesus world, words can often take on a gravitational pull (or push) all their own. For those "inside" Jesus world, words like churched/unchurched, saved/unsaved, reached/unreached seem to pull them more securely behind the walls of the church. For those "outside" Jesus world, the same words are a repellant pushing them beyond the faintest glimpse of the highest steeple. The world is so much easier to live in when there is an "us vs. them," an "insider vs. an outsider," a "churched vs. an unchurched," a "reached vs. unreached." Labels make our retail relationships easier to manage, maneuver, and manipulate. They insulate us from those God forsaken moments when our assumptions are challenged and our deeply held beliefs are questioned. Labels keep us upright, grounded, firmly secured within our own gravity. The only problem is that God so loved the world. The only catch is that while we still were sinners Christ died for us. The only hiccup is that through Jesus God was pleased to reconcile to himself <b><u>all things</u></b>. Through Jesus God has already placed himself in relationship with the world. Every person gay or straight, Republican or Democrat, Christian or Muslim is in relationship to God because of Jesus. It is because God came into the world wearing skin and bone that we are all in some proximity to him. The picture of the Bible is not did you recite the by-laws and master the secret handshake; it is did you turn and see him, did you move towards his outstretched arms, did you fall into his loving embrace. There is a gravity that is undeniable, a gravity that exceeds words, a gravity that can pull us through pain, despair, and even death...it is love...love in the shape of a cross.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-28723381275234270792013-03-18T01:12:00.001-04:002013-03-18T01:17:50.719-04:00Armchair JesusI love how we followers of Jesus aka Christians talk about "they," the "world," or the "lost." We have such confidence. I love our certainty. From morality to science to eternal destiny, we got it all figured out. Our arrogance I mean our self-assurance often reminds me of that guy wearing the team jersey who's a little too old and a little too out of shape but is evidently the most brilliant sports mind in America. You know the one who is <span style="-webkit-composition-fill-color: rgba(175, 192, 227, 0.230469); -webkit-composition-frame-color: rgba(77, 128, 180, 0.230469); -webkit-tap-highlight-color: rgba(26, 26, 26, 0.292969);">wise beyond his years, experience, and waistline. </span> Ignore the fact that the height of his athletic achievement involved a red rubber ball and a P.E. teacher. He's watched enough games, listened to enough sports-talk radio, and managed enough fantasy teams to have a bust in a sports hall of fame. Play the game? Why when you can just watch it on tv and eat hot wings all the while.<br />
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As I write this a friend of mine is attempting to fall asleep (more like hovering between conscious despair and drug-induced fugue) in the psychiatric hospital he was admitted to a few hours ago. It only took a month maybe two for his life to come fully unravelled. His struggles and his traumas are deep-rutted...deep enough...rutted enough that life just ain't worth living. Armchair Jesus he's desperate for your Christian bookstore cliches. If only he could be objectified or categorized by you. Surely there's a book, a sermon, or a Bible verse that could pummel him with judgement. What would Jesus do? Nay! What would Armchair Jesus do?<br />
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I've got it. Put me in a box. It'll make you feel better. You can manage my space. Just enough room to survive but never thrive. Go ahead squeeze me in: gay/straight, democrat/republican, Christian/Muslim, white/black, citizen/immigrant...more boxes please! Wait...don't forget the labels.<br />
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I know what your thinking, "Give you space? You must be out your @&$!?&$ mind! There's only room for one pilgrim's progress - MINE!" Sorry I keep forgetting.<br />
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Space just might be the final frontier in a world full of boxes.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-4729477025392527342013-02-25T01:37:00.000-05:002013-02-25T01:39:31.814-05:00Knocked "Right" OutHave you been crushed? Have you had that moment when the "truth" was crushed out of you? Maybe I should rephrase. Has life hit you hard enough and long enough to knock the "right" right out of you? There is something beautiful about people who have been so broken they no longer feel the need to be right. Maybe it's their eyes wrinkled by pain not age? Maybe it's their presence seasoned by countless midnights alone, without hope, cursing the night to sleep. Maybe it's their well-worn honesty that can't help but admit "I got little figured out and a lot to learn." There's a peace around such people; an ease, a space that let's you breathe. Some of us have been holding our breath for ages. It ain't easy breathing with all these masks on. Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-15688203800530145592013-01-02T13:33:00.001-05:002013-01-02T13:35:34.246-05:00Enough Already<span style="font-family: inherit;">It only took about 20 hours for God to stick it to me in 2013. I mean honestly can't I have at least a day of delusion and self deception? Can't I have at least a day to think I got it all together? Am I the only one who finds themselves saying to God, "Enough already!" I'm one flawed cat and I keep discovering how flawed I really am, but every now and then I could use a <i>What about Bob</i> "vacation from my problems." You ever relish those guilt free years? Or what about those past victories like "I didn't drink today" or "I wasn't such an a#%hole today." Now I'm crushed by so little: A harsh word, a judgmental thought, an unsympathetic heart. Shakespeare placed on the lips of Julius Caesar the words "<span style="line-height: 23px;">Cowards die many times before their deaths; </span><span style="line-height: 23px;">The valiant never taste of death but once." As grand and heroic as Shakespeare's words sound, they fall short of the life devoted to following Jesus. To follow Jesus turns Shakespeare's quote on its head: "Cowards never die before their death; the valiant many times before." Sometimes I just wanna be a coward. </span></span>Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-49635775312267262912012-12-17T16:32:00.000-05:002012-12-17T16:34:37.295-05:00NewtownOn Friday one of my co-workers came to my office door with tears in her eyes, "They think twenty kids have been killed at an elementary school in Connecticut." The shock, the horror, the pit-of-my-stomach sorrow. Eleven days till Christmas. How many presents bought will remain unopened? How many hands poised to rip through wrapping were raised in terror? Lowered, now they rest. We can't endure such things. Our minds shards of broken glass. They thrash, lurch, flail for meaning. We find a voice rooted beyond our recognition crying out in primordial pain, "What the hell was wrong with that guy? Why God why? Why didn't you do something!?" What we feel is beyond emotion and expression. Only the yell that shreds our vocal cords or the groan that shatters our heart can approximate. We have to do something. We gotta make sense. Some how...some way - anger, blame, apathy, excuse. We've gotta push out, away from ourselves. We can't look in. We dare not look in. "In" there lurks something in the shadows - insidious, heinous, beastly. It's too close, too near. We must deflect. We must resist, repel, reject.<br />
<br />
"Stay back! 'In' your too damn close. I'm not going to say it again." <br />
It's too late; it's always been too late.<br />
<br />
"In" speaks, "You know you're no different. You're desperately lonely and scared. You're angry, envious, and apathetic. You foment lies, embrace deceit, and celebrate violence. Your heart turns cold, your soul runs dry, and your morality rings false. You too are human."<br />
<br />
The events at Newtown leave me overwrought with emotion and the awareness that "In" my heart are not only the seeds of anguished empathy but the seeds of all that went wrong that tragic day. Father forgive us for we know and know not what we do. Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-47997390676583919022012-11-18T13:59:00.001-05:002012-11-18T14:14:04.893-05:00Commitment SundayIndelible,<br />
You write,<br />
Across the landscape of our souls.<br />
<br />
Yet we have forgotten.<br />
We wander instead, forgetful.<br />
Our memories fail us.<br />
<br />
We suppose the world was ours for the taking.<br />
Oh how we have taken:<br />
Innocence<br />
Truth<br />
Justice<br />
Love<br />
Life<br />
All of these and more we have taken.<br />
<br />
We have taken and returned them:<br />
Empty<br />
Hungry<br />
Starving<br />
Famished<br />
Oh how we have taken.<br />
<br />
But not you, no not you.<br />
You give and give and give.<br />
Some say, "Give till it hurts."<br />
<br />
But you give till, "My God My God why have you forsaken me?"<br />
You give till, "Father forgive them for they know not what they do."<br />
You give till, "It is finished!"<br />
<br />
Remove the fog of our forgetfulness.<br />
Peel open our clinched fists.<br />
Awaken our slumbering souls.<br />
<br />
For there is a promise we have taken,<br />
A promise we have forgotten,<br />
"It is more blessed to give than to receive."Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-20348749137409147202012-11-12T11:35:00.002-05:002012-11-12T13:35:12.826-05:00For JeffWords, empty <br />
Fractured by the kiln:<br />
Compacted, comminuted, compound.<br />
<br />
Half empty? If only.<br />
Grief, tragedy, loss ricochet,<br />
Movement without meaning.<br />
<br />
These tools are useless,<br />
Rusted, worn, stripped.<br />
"I miss you" will never be enough.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-66483730725530604942012-11-06T16:24:00.000-05:002012-11-06T17:24:00.759-05:00Election DayLocked within the frame of my brokenness,<br />
Pressed by the walls of my vision - myopic, prejudiced, woefully limited.<br />
Just let me live in this glass house with my stacks of stones.<br />
Admit my flaws? Admit my hypocrisy? Admit my double standards?<br />
Maybe tomorrow. Today's election day.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-64707211210936056372012-05-07T16:51:00.002-04:002012-05-07T16:56:02.821-04:00Is there an app for that?Apple states on their iPhone web page that they have over 500,00 apps for "work, play, and everything in between." Need to learn Cantonese - there's an app for that. Need to monitor your investment portfolio - there's an app for that. Need to find a friend from college, post a video of your 80 year old granny doing the "forbidden dance," or save the human race from a zombie Apocalypse - there's an app for that.<br />
<br />
There seems to be an app for just about everything...everything except for despair, hopelessness, and emptiness. The app industry that drives and defines our over-connected existence is merely a well-developed, adroitly marketed symptom of an insatiable craving deep with in each of us. There is a craving within each of us that is beyond reason or rationality. It is a visceral craving that we attempt to satisfy through sex, alcohol, drugs, relationships, entertainment, success, wealth, possessions, and religion. <br />
<br />
We are convinced that our craving's satisfaction is somehow tied to our own. If only we meet our every need, want, or desire then surely the craving will vanish. If I do whatever I want, whenever I want, with whomever I want surely the craving will subside? But here our intuition fails us. The more we cave into our every need, want, and desire the more insatiable our cravings become.<br />
<br />
The cliched truth is that God is the only "app" than can satisfy our craving. But this ain't no genie in a bottle, hocus pocus, god of my understanding app. This is a God become flesh, take on all my s#!t, nailed to a cross, victory over death and darkness application. <br />
<br />
Is there an app for despair, hopelessness, emptiness, and insatiable craving? There is. His name is Jesus.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-75252489761438858382012-04-14T15:17:00.001-04:002012-04-14T15:24:18.911-04:00Camels and Cashmere UnderwearLuxury items fascinate me. My uber practical, paycheck to paycheck, associate pastor lifestyle can't quite comprehend the gold plated toilet seat, diamond studded watch, cashmere underwear, or $75,000 SUV with the home entertainment system. As much as I hate to admit it, those who own luxury items produce in me a constellation of emotions from envy to resentment. In my self-righteous moments, my criticism and judgment take on the words of Jesus, "It's easier for a camel to walk through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven." In those moments I hear myself cheering on Jesus and jeering at the wealthy, "That's what I'm talking about Jesus...Y'all better watch out <em>Jesus</em> (Spanish pronunciation) is about to get Old Testament on your punk @$#."<br />
<br />
My trip down Condemnation Lane doesn't last more than a few blocks before Reverend Hammond's words echo in my ears, "Most pastors in Liberia make less than $100 a month. Many barely make $60." My peers in West Africa live in abject poverty as they serve a people and a nation ruined by years of civil war. My life is luxury stacked upon luxury compared to theirs - indoor plumbing, electricity, a living wage, health care, access to technology, educational opportunities, home ownership, automobiles, and food security. From their perspective, my 2002 Pathfinder is a Hummer, my 1,800 square foot home a mansion, and my monthly salary a king's ransom.<br />
<br />
The hard truth is that the majority of the world looks more like West Africa than North America, and the greatest luxury in America does not involve wealth or material possession but God. In a nation that defines needs as smartphones, flat screens, and entertainment God is the ultimate luxury item. Who needs God when you live in a nation obssessed with and defined by self-interest, comfort, safety, and security. <br />
<br />
God is a luxury who sometimes receives a passing nod when all is well, a heartfelt cry in despair, or an unbriddled curse in tragedy. But make no mistake, in a nation of untold luxury where the mainline church is dying like a third world epidemic, God is a luxury. Where are those damn microscopic camels when you need one? <br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-61319742591486016242012-03-09T13:54:00.003-05:002012-03-09T14:10:54.913-05:00Out-patient SurgeryYesterday I had my knee scoped at an outpatient surgery center. This morning as I lay in bed leg elevated, knee throbbing the thought hit me - the church isn't a hospital but an outpatient surgery center. I've heard many say that the church isn't a "museum for saints but a hospital for sinners." But the more I reflect on the story of God and the response that story necessitates the more I see the church as an outpatient surgery center. A hospital can be a place of healing, but more often it is a place of overwhelming pathology where sickness, infection, and, despair hover like a dense fog. Such potential toxicity fosters a sedate, sedentary environment where patients are discharged on the basis of insurance coverage rather than health.<br />
<br />
An outpatient surgery center is by its nature a place of movement and targeted healing. Patients come to have conditions repaired, relieved, or removed. Though sore, in pain, and scarred patients are sent back into their lives, into their worlds to complete their rehab and recuperation. Their health is fully restored in and through the circumstances of life.<br />
<br />
The gospel isn't an Amish Manifesto or a hospital name "Isolation General." The gospel is the story of engagement where the sick are brought to the physician to be treated and sent to gather the sick. To follow Jesus is to be an "out"-patient who discovers healing and is dis-"charged" to help others do the same. We aren't called to the infirmary but to the community. We are the sent out not the brought in. We are the way and not the destination. We are an "out"-patient surgery center and not a hospital.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-64201243269271183402012-02-23T15:39:00.002-05:002012-02-23T15:41:02.125-05:00Hunger GamesI am hungry. I am hungry for less of me and more of Jesus. I am hungry for sacrifice. I am hungry for a community that meets people where they are...a community more concerned about following Christ than studying Christ. I am hungry for authenticity and transparency. I am hungry for bondages broken, addictions busted, and oppressions laid low. I am hungry for the consumer church to stop gorging itself and start feeding the hungry and the hopeless. I am hungry for radical obedience and uncommon self-denial. I am hungry for danger, for risk, for un-comfortable zones. I am hungry for the church to stop confusing tradition with traditionalism. I am hungry for worship to be a lifestyle and not a worship style. I am hungry for a movement and not a methodology. <br />
<br />
I am hungry for the kingdom of God.Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7621996126683746678.post-35086062496438158632012-01-03T00:43:00.002-05:002012-01-03T00:49:42.219-05:00Christian ClichesIt has been nine years since I became a Christian. In my near decade long pursuit to follow Jesus I have come across a number of Christian cliches that get tossed around with little if any push back. Many of these phrases have a second-cousin-twice-removed like connection to a Scripture verse or passage which gives the impression they are "Biblical" i.e. the Protestant litmus test. It may be phrases like: accept Jesus into your heart; washed (or cleansed) by the blood of Jesus; seek God's will for your life; anything using "righteousness;" we agree in prayer...; seek God's face; the Lord spoke to my heart; get into the word; turn it over to the Lord; or ...Spirit filled... <br />
<br />
Of late the cliche that most troubles me is "personal relationship with Jesus." You can't be among a group of "Bible believing," "Evangelical," "Christ centered" Protestants for more than 30 seconds without the phrase "personal relationship with Jesus" getting launched into the hearing sphere. Lo ye dare to question thee phrase in public or thy may be smite(d). But honestly I have no idea what people mean by the phrase. Are Jesus and I buddies? Are we boyfriend/girlfriend? Are we roomates? Do we bowl together on Tuesdays? I'm afraid in our me-driven, experiential, consumer culture, "personal relationship with Jesus" looks more like Twilight without the fangs - "Oh Edward...Oh Bella...Oh Edward...Oh Bella...Let's be immortal forever xoxo." <br />
<br />
When Jesus became a person God became personal and because of that we can personally encounter God. But the encounter is and must always be on God's terms and not our own. God is at center of our encounter and he always makes the first move. Any pursuit of a "personal relationship" with Jesus that seeks emotional highs and new frontiers of experience ultimately puts "me" at the center of the relationship (and I think that might be idolatry). Truly encountering God may require despair, crisis, and the utter absence of God's perceived presence. It may mean the implosion of all our cliches. God forbid, it may mean fewer hand-in-hand walks down the beach with Jesus and more deny yourself, take up your cross, and follow me. Allen Hhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14205729872484147063noreply@blogger.com3