A Different Kind of Persecution

“How would your faith stand up under persecution?”

This was the subject line for an email that appeared in my inbox recently. A single word out of that subject line grabbed my attention, and it wasn’t ‘persecution’ or even ‘faith’.  It was the word “would."  It grabbed my attention because the use of would revealed an underlying assumption that got me thinking about how we understand our faith.

Let’s begin with the word ‘persecution.’ It is a church word if there ever was one. I looked it up on Google (does anyone really use Bing?) and found this definition: “noun, hostility and ill-treatment, especially because of religious beliefs." Example: "Her family fled religious persecution." Typically, persecution is inflicted by those with power against those who lack it. It is not random and isolated, but prevalent and systematic.

Christianity has a storied history of people suffering persecution for their faith. (We also have a history of inflicting persecution on each other, but that’s a different topic for a different blog entry.) We call people who endure in the face of persecution ‘martyrs.’ Stories of martyrs have always been important to our faith.  We are inspired by their fortitude and courage in the face of real pain and certain death.  

Persecution also has unintended consequence to those who inflict it. As 3^rd century church father Tertullian once wrote: “The blood of the martyrs is the seed of the church.” Stories of it serve as a rallying call for the faithful, as the email that sparked this whole blog post proves. We are stirred and motivated to higher heights of trust and perseverance. Our faith grows stronger, not weaker.

Stephen (described in Acts ch. 7 )
was the first Christian martyr.

But here is where the word “would” stuck in my craw.  In the American context, we think persecution happens somewhere else.  To be clear, persecution continues to happen elsewhere in the world, and we grieve for those who are subjected to it, and pray for it to stop. But does it happen here in the U.S.? Most of us would say “no.” I disagree. I believe it is only the tactics of persecution that have changed.

Let me explain.

Let’s go back to the traditional definition of the word.  It centers on the infliction of pain and suffering. We define it by what it looks like rather than what is it trying to accomplish. So let’s ask a more important question: What is the goal of persecution? Most would agree that it is to get someone to give up or walk away from their God. It is nothing short of what politicos call “a wedge issue.” The end game of persecution is trying to create a divide between us and God.

I think we can all agree that religious persecution isn’t happening here in America if we define it by what it looks like. But what if we tried to detect it by defining it by what it is trying to accomplish? What if we sought evidence of things that create ‘wedge issues’ between us and God?

The truth about our faith is that we reach out to God most, and feel His presence closest, when we are experiencing some degree of anxiety, uncertainty, or physical/emotional pain. So often our most desperate search for God is when we feel we have nowhere else to turn. The worst experiences in our life are usually what draw us to Him in authentic and transparent ways. This is exactly why it is the source of courage for the martyrs. But what if we turn the equation around and ask: When do we feel the most distant and disconnected? I would venture that it usually occurs when we are feeling the least amount of threat to our well being. Sure, we’re quick to give thanks to God for the good times, but our attention span in those moments is far shorter than when we’re struggling in utter dependence on Him. After all, who needs God when things are going well? Who needs God when we are surrounded by things that make life safer, easier, and better?

In my opinion, our pursuit of physical comfort is where a different (but very real) persecution begins. Here in America so much of our energy is spent on striving for things that make life safer, easier and better. It is when we start pursuing those things instead of God, and depending on them instead of God,

Enough said.

is where the goal of persecution is achieved.  It is when we make those things, whatever they are (better car, house, career, etc.) the object of our attention. We trust on them to deliver us from what we think is the threat of physical persecution like pain, suffering and death. And before we know it, we are essentially worshiping them. This is why 1 John 2:15-16 warns us: Do not love this world nor the things it offers you, for when you love the world, you do not have the love of the Father in you. For the world offers only a craving for physical pleasure, a craving for everything we see, and pride in our achievements and possessions. These are not from the Father, but are from this world.

Am I advocating that we give up on cars, houses and careers? No. Rather, I am suggesting we keep them in their proper perspective. Let’s see them for what they are – resources to survive in our modern world. They facilitate physical life, but they don’t give life…at least not the full life that is found in Jesus Christ.

In the end, I don’t think the email got it right by asking “How would your faith stand up under persecution?” I think the better question is “How does your faith stand up under persecution?” Because the reality is that we are suffering it every single day and we just don’t recognize it. 

Keep the faith,

Why Did Jesus Have To Die?

Apparently the jury is still out.

Back in the day when I was a lawyer doing jury trials, I handled a number of personal injury cases. One of the hurdles I had to overcome was explaining why my client should be compensated with money for their injuries. For many jurors (and maybe most people), the idea of giving cash to someone for an accident doesn’t seem to line up with concepts of justice, especially when the media is full of stories of people getting huge awards that seem disproportionate to their injury. 

So they ask a legitimate question: How does cash provide justice?  And if it does, how much is enough?

It’s a good question. How does giving someone money provide justice for a physical injury?

My response was that there were three options:

Option 1: If we could make the responsible party go back in time and make it so the accident never happened, we would…but we can’t.

Option 2: If we could make the responsible party heal my client to their pre-accident condition, we would…but we can’t.

Which is when I brought up...

Option 3: Make the responsible party bring the scales of justice back into balance by compensating my client with money.

Is it perfect? Absolutely not. We would all prefer to have option 1 and 2 available as a way to make things ‘right’. Indeed, every client I ever represented would have taken option 1 or 2 in a heartbeat. But those two options were obviously unavailable. So we’re left with making one party pay another as a way to achieve equilibrium of justice.

Similarly, this same dynamic is at work when we ask the question: “Why did Jesus have to die?” The whole concept of Atonement (which is the fancy church word we use to explain the death and resurrection of Jesus) is the attempt to describe what it achieved. It addresses the questions of: What did it do for God? And more selfishly, what did it do for us?    

Part of the answer is that Atonement fulfills the need for justice. Theologians say that it satisfied God’s need for justice, but I often wonder if we don’t need it more. Justice is a concept that is unique to humans. It is not observed in the animal kingdom, but seemingly, it is wired into our DNA. Something within us yearns for the scales to be brought back into equilibrium. Things aren’t ‘right’ unless justice has been accomplished.

Especially when thinking
about Atonement.

So Atonement begins with an honest assessment about where we find ourselves, both way back then and in the present moment. Yes, we understand that humankind went off the tracks with the fall of Adam and Eve. Yes, we all admit that we’re miserable sinners. Yes, we are the responsible party for an injury to God and to his Creation. Yes, somewhere deep within us, we want it to be set back ‘right.’ But we also ask why did Jesus have to die to set our shortcomings straight? Why couldn’t God just take us all back to the Garden of Eden and make it so that evil never entered the world? Why can’t God simply heal us back to our ‘pre-fall’ condition?

The answer is that as that as much as we wish we could…we can’t. That train left the station long ago. Instead, the only thing will bring the scales of justice back into balance is for someone to pay, and given the immensity of the injury, recognizing that the amount of compensation needs to be astronomical.

Enter Jesus.

It is through Jesus that we answer the double question of "why?" and "how much?" His crucifixion and death reflect the magnitude of the harm we've caused. It revealed (and still reveals) how far humanity has fallen since we exited the Garden so long ago. But it is through his sacrifice that justice and equilibrium are restored. After all, the restoration of perfection requires a perfect payment.   

Is it what we wanted? No. But is it perfect? If we think about it, Yes. It. Is.

Keep the faith,

Jesus Wasn't a Sailor

One of my favorite stories of Jesus is a sailing story. In part, it is because I grew up obsessed with sailing. I don’t really know where I got the passion because we didn’t own, or have access to, a sailboat. Yet, when I was young, when my family made trips to Lake Michigan, I would make a

That would've been me
on the pier.

beeline for the pier just so I could watch sailboats coming in and out of the channel. I would sit there for hours watching them bob through the waves. Of course that obsession carried into adulthood, and I finally did manage to own a couple of different sailboats in my life. But from experience I can tell you that the love of sailing is like a genetic defect. You either have it or you don’t. And if you have it, there is not much you can do about it.

I don't think Jesus had that particular genetic marker. That's because I’m pretty sure that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Scholars tells us that he was most likely a carpenter. But I can assure you that he wasn’t a sailor. Why do I say this? Because the Gospel of Mark tells us a story of Jesus going sailing at the end of chapter 4. The story itself only takes 7 verses beginning to end. But within those 7 verses are so many clues that confirm my suspicion that Jesus wasn’t a sailor.

The story goes like this:   

That day when evening came, he said to his disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.”  Leaving the crowd behind, they took him along, just as he was, in the boat. There were also other boats with him. A furious squall came up, and the waves broke over the boat, so that it was nearly swamped.  Jesus was in the stern, sleeping on a cushion. The disciples woke him and said to him, “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?” He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm. He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?” They were terrified and asked each other, “Who is this? Even the wind and the waves obey him!”

So the story opens with Jesus wanting to go over to the other side of the Sea of Galilee.  Mark then reports “they (the disciples) took him along, just as he was, in the boat.” As a lifelong

Sea of Galilee in gentler weather

sailor, this is the first giveaway that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Understand that the disciples were sailors because they were fisherman. Way back then, the only way to propel your fishing boat was by sail. In the story, we see that the disciples looked at Jesus and made the instant assessment that clearly, Jesus wasn’t dressed for the voyage. But they took him along anyway “just as he was.”

The second clue that Jesus wasn’t a sailor is where the disciples put him when they start on the voyage: in the stern of the boat.  (For the uninitiated, the ‘stern’ is the back of the boat.) This is typically where you put landlubbers in a boat when you want to keep them out of harm’s way. Plus, if non-sailors start touching stuff that control the boat, it invariably leads to disaster. So put 'em in the back of the boat with strict instructions not to move. 

The third piece of evidence that Jesus wasn’t a sailor is what he was doing when the storm sprung up. He is asleep (on a cushion no less!) Who knows, maybe he got bored from the prohibition against touching important stuff in the boat. But grabbing z's in the midst of a storm is typical behavior of non-sailors. The boat is in distress and all they feel is gentle a rocking motion that lulls them to sleep.

So the disciples wake up Jesus with the sarcastic statement “Teacher, don’t you care if we drown?!” Let me say as an aside that at this point in the story the disciples aren’t frightened. 

Storms don’t frighten sailors. The disciples grew up sailing boats on a body of water that is notorious for nasty weather, so this ain’t exactly their first rodeo. Rather, their statement is more likely a euphemism for saying: “Hey landlubber, wake up, grab a bucket and start bailing!”   

And at this moment in the story we come to final realization that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. Instead of bailing water out of the boat, Jesus does something far more amazing: He speaks the

Boats generally work better
when you keep water out of them

weather into submission. Yeah, trust me when I say that sailors can’t do that. To be clear, sailors constantly whisper, speak, and at times yell and scream at the weather. It’s what we sailors do. The only difference is that the weather never listens…let alone responds. So when Jesus does it, it is then, and only then, that the disciples are overwhelmed with emotion and cry out: “Who IS THIS that even the wind and waves obey him?”

I like to remember this story whenever I struggle with explaining complex theological concepts.  Things like divine providence, atonement, or this week’s topic, predestination. Obviously the debate on how God specifically operates within these concepts has been going on for thousands of years, and Christians still can’t reach complete resolution. So when I enter into the storm of the debate with my small boat of an intellect, I, too, can feel swamped and near sinking. I, too, want to scream at Jesus “Don’t you

What sailors refer to as:
"Heavy Weather"

care if I drown?!” But then I remind myself that he has the power to speak the elements into submission.  He has the sovereignty to do as he wishes. And the naked truth of it is that I don’t have the ability to simply explain it away. I cannot say with complete certainty on the 'how and why' God controls his Kingdom the way he does. It is then that I, like the disciples, am awash in awe and humility. It is then that I cannot help but blurt out: “Who IS THIS…?”

So yes, it’s true, that Jesus wasn’t a sailor. But I rest in the knowledge of his sovereign power and never ending love that I will always be safe and secure. And while Jesus may never have been a sailor, he will always be my Captain.

Keep the faith,

Green Tags, Brown Dogs, and Freedom

The other day I got to enjoy this.

It is a joy for me to be able to walk in God’s beautiful and incredible creation with my dog.  It is not only the companionship, it is how she draws attention to things that my eyes would normally miss.  I experience the trail with my eyes, she through her nose. This is possible because one of the many benefits of living in Boulder is that there are innumerable trails where you can let your dog off the leash…so long as it has a ‘green tag’ from the county.   You can get the green tag if you promise the county that your dog responds to ‘voice and sight control’, and of course, an annual fee of $30.  Yes, there are some rules you have to follow.  Yes, there is a cost.  But if you and your dog are obedient, it’s a small price to pay for a much bigger freedom.   You both get to be off the leash to walk, run, sniff, and explore at your own pace.  

Kona

In my adult life, I’ve had the privilege of owning three different dogs.  All of them came into our family life as puppies, but each by a different route.  The first, “Squirt”, was the runt of a litter that had been abandoned in a grocery store parking lot on Christmas Eve.  The second, “Kona”, was rescued from neglect by a close friend and given to us.  The current one, “Numa”, we saw on-line at the Boulder Animal Shelter and adopted first thing the next morning.   There are two things they all share:  Fur that is deep brown in color and obedience to my voice commands.  The first was a happy accident.  The second was a seriously intentional effort. 

From the moment these puppies entered our house and our life, they were all bundles of happily wagging tails, eager curiosity, and non-stop exploration.  They also chewed a lot of things we wish they hadn’t, and went potty in places they shouldn’t.  But they melted our hearts at first sight,

Who could possibly resist this?

and we loved them immensely.  I mean, who doesn’t love puppies? But we also wanted them to learn obedience, because we knew that obedience is not a happy accident in dogs, unlike brown fur.  To be clear, our love and devotion was there from the outset, unconditional on whether or not they would learn the rules and listen to our commands.  But an obedient dog is a dog you can trust to let off the leash.

Having three dogs has also taught me that instilling obedience requires an investment of a lot of intentional time and effort.  It is a span that is not measured in weeks or number of training classes, but in years. Human rules and regulations do not become second nature to a dog overnight.  It requires a commitment that is infused with love, patience, and fortitude.  The pay off for the dedication is freedom.

All of this came flooding to the forefront of my mind as Numa and I walked the Marshall Mesa trail the other day.  Freedom for her comes with a price and with obedience.  I pay the price.  She pays with obedience. As a result, my brown dog wears a green tag that marks her as free to romp off the leash.   I was reminded that I too enjoy freedom, and that freedom came at a price. I didn’t pay it because there is no way in the world that I could. The price was far too high.  But using that freedom to its fullest requires that I, too, learn the value of obedience.  It demands that I am intentional to its cause and devoted to the effort.  Not that I’ve "arrived" in my training, because I know it’s a continuous, ongoing process. But I’m always striving to reach the goal, which is listening for God’s voice and behaving obedient in his sight. 

And who knows...when I do reach the goal...maybe then I’ll receive the equivalent of a green tag. Maybe then he’ll lean down and gently unhook the leash, and then together we’ll romp down the trail of life as I walk, run, see, explore and engage in his Kingdom. 

Or...perhaps he already has and I just don't realize it. 

Whichever way it is, I'm enjoying it.

Keep the faith,

The Mysteries of Faith

What is ‘faith? That is a broad and undefined question. Strictly defined it is: “complete trust, belief or confidence in someone or something.”

In the Christian context, we apply that word ‘faith’ to our belief in a God that is unseen, and to some degree, unknown to us.  We are especially challenged in our faith when we profess a triune God who is distinctly revealed in three persons (Father, Son, & Holy Spirit) but is still unified as one God.  So we can’t tell anyone how a triune God works…but I believe we can confidently say why it works. 

Yes, it takes elements of belief, trust and confidence in God, even though we have precious little empirical evidence to prove it…at least scientifically.  But we roll all those things of belief, trust and confidence into one thing we call ‘faith’.  And we cling to that faith.

However, for some, our faith doesn’t make sense.  Some might even say that absent cold hard facts of God, we have a ‘blind’ faith, literally a faith that is without seeing; that we have a faith that isn’t rooted in reality.  Some say “If there is a God, then let him show himself.” Others cannot believe in a God who does not prevent evil, pain and hardship.  The lack of ‘faith’ is found in the unresolved question: “If there is a God, then why would he let this happen?”

Why doesn't God do something obvious, like paint his
name on these mountains? Oh wait...maybe he did.

As a pastor, people ask me these questions; and as an ‘anointed’ representative of God, they expect answers. I preface my response that for the first 37 years of my life, I held the same perspective.  I could never detect any empirical evidence of God.  From my vantage point, God didn’t reveal himself to the world, let alone act in it.  Ergo, there wasn’t a God.

So I can empathize with the perspective that faith isn’t a reasonable and rational worldview. So I get it why faith in God doesn’t make total sense.

But then I challenge people to look at it from the opposite perspective. 

If our objection to God is that he doesn’t reveal himself to us, that he doesn’t ‘prove’ himself to us. I like to ask “how then should he do it?”  If we begin with the assumption that God wants to be known (and I assume that he does), then what obstacles stand in the way of an infinite God of the universe trying to communicate with finite beings in physical world?  How does God cross that which separates us in order to make himself known?

I remind people that we’ve been in this predicament before…we just don’t remember it.

Think of it this way: It’s undisputed scientific fact that everyone who has ever been born at one time existed in a ‘different’ world before they came into this one.  That ‘world’ was our mother’s

We were all here at one point.

womb.  We can trace our beginnings back to a time and space when an egg and a sperm came together in our mother’s womb, and then wonders of nature took over, and we started to be formed into a person. 

And while we are in our mother’s womb, we reach a point of developed where we start pushing against our momma’s belly.  We are also become sentient enough to react to things that are going on outside of our mother’s placenta.  In short, we are in alive.  It may be a rudimentary form of what we now consider alive, but we are alive none the less.

But here is the thing…we had no idea about the larger world that existed beyond the womb.  

To apply the same questions we do to God, could we have posed the same inquiries to our own mom?  While we were in the womb, could we have said: “If there is a mom, then let her show herself to me!”  Or while experiencing the exponential physical growth, which has to be painful, did we cry out: “How can there be a mom when I am suffering this kind of pain!”

Bottom line, how could or would we know we had a mom while we were in her womb?

Now that we have gone through the birth process, grown up and learned how to read and think, those questions are obviously nonsensical.  We understand the pragmatic proof of pregnancy.  But we need to keep in mind that we dismiss those questions only because we now have the advantage of standing outside the womb.  We have the benefit of hindsight, which is always 20/20.   

But we knew none of this when we were in the womb. 

Hello! Can you hear me?!?!

Imagine for a moment if we had the ability to communicate with a baby in the womb.  How would we respond to the questions of existence and pain?  I’m guessing when it came to the issue of existence, we’d probably be saying something along the lines of: “Your mom surrounds you.  She can’t reveal herself because you are inside of her.”  As for the physical pain caused rapid exponential growth in the womb, we could only offer reassurance that kind of painful growth is necessary preparation for life outside of the womb.  As painful as it is, without it we’d die. 

But obviously we can’t do that kind of communication.  Even though babies in the womb are separated from this world only by the thickness of their mother’s skin, the two shall remain separated until the time is right for them to leave that ‘world’ and enter this one.  The best that a mother can do is tenderly rub their belly and quietly sing lullabies to the one insider of her.

If all that is true; if all of that is reality; could we say the same about God?

Maybe having ‘faith is an exercise of humility to admit that perhaps the process isn’t quite done yet.  Maybe ‘faith’ is the perspective that we don’t have enough information to make completely informed judgments about what is happening to us.  Maybe ‘faith’ is realizing that this world isn’t as good as it gets. Maybe ‘faith’ is an enduring patience for being birthed from our mother’s womb into God’s own womb. Maybe ‘faith’ is the realization that God surrounds us to the extent we can’t see it because we don’t yet have the benefit of standing outside of it. Maybe the personal pain and societal evil of the world is similar to the exponential physical growth that happened inside the womb, with the difference being that it’s not about our bodily development, but our spiritual formation.

In the end, maybe ‘faith’ is nothing more than preparing us for the ‘world’ that we are separated from just by the thinness of God’s skin. 

Keep the faith,

"Ehh...You Get Used to It."

This picture doesn't do
justice to the actual view. 

I am greeted by this sight most days when I drive down my street and turn the corner to leave my neighborhood.  Because our house is roughly 7 miles east of where the Rocky Mountains start popping out of the plains, I can see both the intricate details of the smaller ‘front range’ hills, as well as the white capped majesty of the taller mountains of the ‘back range.’  It is an idyllic vista, especially on the mornings when the rising sun splashes it with hues of red and orange against the backdrop of a deep blue sky.   In fact, you’d think most humans would label it “awe inspiring”. 

And it is. 

However, the sad reality is that these days, when I see this sight, awe and inspiration are not on the docket of things I experience.

Why?

How is it that God’s beautiful creation that is especially apparent here where I live in Boulder, Colorado, is unable to inspire awe within me?  How can it be that the sight of the craggy slabs of the Flatirons sitting askew to the horizon, looking to all the world as if some huge toddler had been at play, imaginatively building castle walls with flat stones that had been laying about, not make me feel a sense of reverence?  After all, does not Romans 1:20 say: For ever since the world was created, people have seen the earth and sky. Through everything God made, they can clearly see his invisible qualities—his eternal power and divine nature. So they have no excuse for not knowing God.

Yet, so frequently my mind is somewhere else, focused on something else.  When my eyes scan the horizon and drinks in the sight, the only processing going on in my brain is trying to determine the weather.  The author(s) of Psalms frequently speak about the heavens and the earth declaring the glory of God, but my only interest is whether or not the heavens will open up and rain that day because I suddenly realize that I failed to bring a rain coat. 

Is there a problem here? Yes.  But I don’t think the problem is God. I’m pretty sure the problem is me.  Actually, I know the problem is me.

It reminds me of a trip I took 8 years ago with my wife to the Hawaiian Island of Oahu. We were celebrating our 20^th wedding anniversary. We stayed on the east side of the Island with a close and dear friend whose husband is a helicopter pilot in the Marines.  We had the privilege of wandering Pacific beaches that were almost uninhabited because the Marine base is closed to civilians.  We also toured the sights; ate the food; enjoyed the atmosphere. The sun, the climate, the ocean…all of it added up to the descriptive word paradise that is frequently associated with Hawaii. 

But there was one moment in particular that brought something into sharp focus for me.  It happened when I was playing a round on the base’s golf course.  Many of the holes run parallel to the Pacific.  On one of them, I stood on the tee box that was on top of

The tee box on the
14th hole...if memory serves me.

a bluff and gave incredible views in every direction.  To my right, sapphire waters speckled with whitecaps stretched off to the horizon.  Straight ahead, the verdant cliffs of Oahu towered in the distance, reflecting a spectrum of green vegetation.  Above me, puffy low lying clouds scuttled along in the tropical wind before they collided with the cliff heights and turned into a light grey mist. Below where I stood, the ocean waves were crashing into the shore, echoing sounds of its relentless quest to pound coral into sand.  The spray tossed up the kind of salty and alluring fragrance that only a tropical ocean can.  All in all, it was a full body experience of the spectacular beauty of the creation of God…and I was overwhelmed in awe and reverence.

At that moment, as I gazed at the splendor, I said out loud to my two playing partners, both of who were life time residents of the island: “How wonderful it must be to wake up in this beautiful place every morning and see this gorgeous scenery.”  One of the men, who was busily lining up his tee shot, shot back a reply without even looking up from his petty task: “Ehh…you get used to it.” 

“Ehh…you get used to it.”

I think that statement can epitomize how we embrace our faith over time.  The first time the power of grace of Jesus enters our life, we are bowled over with awe.  We are infused with reverence.  Excitement courses through our veins and we want to run around yelping with delight over the inherent beauty of forgiveness, love, joy, and peace that emanates from God and being citizens of his Kingdom.  It is like the gorgeous views of the Rocky Mountain; the whole body experiences of a tropical paradise. But maybe over time that excitement fades because we simply ‘get used to it.’  Like my golfing partners in Hawaii, the beauty slowly morphs into the mundane and routine. 

But this happens to us humans.  They say that familiarity breeds contempt.  Maybe we don’t slide that far down in our faith, but perhaps we’ll slip to the point of apathy or indifference.  The amazing reality that the God of the universe came to dwell with us in the person of Jesus Christ is something we have gotten so used to it that we no longer see the beauty or appreciate the wonder.

So what are we to do?

I have a tactic that works for me, whether I am talking about trying to revitalize my faith or re-appreciate the beautiful landscape that surrounds me: “Renew by getting a different view.”  For instance, when I start to take the mountains here in Colorado for granted, I search out a different location to appreciate them.  I might take a hike on a new trail, or simply go to a different part of the state.  But I know this much...whenever I see the same mountains from a new perspective, I always find that I am rejuvenated.  I try to do the same with my faith.  I read and study something about the faith that is unfamiliar to me, or worship in a different setting, or serve the Kingdom in new context.  In other words, I strive to intentionally position myself to the Lord in a way that feels new and fresh.

It is then when the awe of God returns, and the "Ehh...You get used to to it" feeling fades. I am reminded of real beauty of my faith...and on most morning as I turn that corner of my street and see those mountains yet again, that is exactly what I need. 

Keep the faith,

Wanting Superheroes...Getting Disciples.

Don't mess with this lady.

It strikes me that our culture has always had a love affair with the “Superhero” genre.  In the last year we’ve had tons of movies about X-Men, Spiderman, Iron Man, Superman, The Avengers…the list goes on.  But the diversity of superheroes isn’t limited to the realm of fictional characters.  It also includes ‘real world’ ones, such Jason Borne of the Bourne Identity series, Ethan Hunt of Mission Impossible, and of course my favorite…Katniss Everdeen of the Hunger Games trilogy.  It seems superheroes are everywhere these days.

What qualifies as a superhero? I think we can agree it’s not the costumes, as alluring as the spandex might be. Rather, a superhero is defined by their unprecedented physical prowess and powers, which are either found in supernatural abilities (‘cool skills’), advanced equipment (‘cool toys’) or simply their lack of fear in the face of threats and obstacles that make the rest of us tremble (‘cool demeanor’).  Basically, superheroes ain’t us.

Hmmm...Spandex was invented
30 years after  these characters
showed upon the scene.

But possessing cool skills, toys, or demeanor doesn’t completely explain their appeal. (Remember, the archenemies of superhero usually have equal amounts of skills, toys and demeanor, if not more.)  We are attracted to superheroes because of their pursuit of justice. Superheroes are all about justice.  It is at the core of their identity. They go together like hamburgers go with fries.  I think we like justice too, mostly because we have this deep seated desire for fairness.  The problem is that both justice and fairness are so lacking in our world.  We are constantly bombarded with stories of injustice and unfairness which the established authorities are unable, or worse, unwilling, to overcome.  The sheer volume of injustice in the world reduces us to feeling powerless. Enter the superhero!  The superhero relentlessly pursues justice on behalf of everyone, whereas we feel that our hands are full just trying to survive until day’s end.  Again, they ain’t us.

It seems to me that the world would be a whole lot better off with superheroes than without them.  If God truly hates evil, then why not superheroes?  It would be the simple answer to a very complex problem.  Indeed, God has an army of superheroes at his disposal.  We call them angels.  Understand that angels do NOT look like the cute Precious Moments figurines in your grandmother’s curio cabinet.  Every time a human encounters an angel in scripture, the first words out the angel’s mouth is: “Do not be afraid.”  Angels are fearsome warriors of God’s army, not some meek cherub that would crumble under the licks of a puppy. So why doesn’t God use them?  Why not heavenly superheroes?

Personally, I don’t think God is interested in showing off.  God understands that ‘shock and awe’ has a short shelf life.  Rather, God wants real change.  He wants permanent change. This is especially true when it comes to issues of justice.  When we see injustice, we want superheroes.  When God sees injustice, he

A later version of a Motley Crue

wants disciples.  Remember that when Jesus came into the world, he picked a motley crew of under-educated kids to be his disciples.  Why? While God is powerful, he is not coercive.  What’s more, I think He loves to reveal to us how much we can do through reliance on His awesome power.  He takes ordinary, plain ole’ you and me and equips us to do extraordinary things…Kingdom of God kinds of things…things that change the world for the better. 

Sure, wanting superheroes and getting disciples instead doesn’t make much for exciting movies, books, or comics.  That is because we are the disciples God calls on to do his work.  Yeah, we conspicuously lack cool skills, powers and demeanor, but then again, we aren’t fictional either.  So when it comes to pursuing justice, the answer IS us.

Keep the faith,