Jesus didn’t run.
Jesus didn’t hide.
Jesus didn’t take a bong hit.

During the most traumatic, disruptive, and painful time of his life, Jesus prayed.

When you and I lose jobs, spouses, parents, and, God help us, children – we are always tempted to do a variation of one of these three things: run, hide, medicate.

What Jesus showed us in the Garden of Gethsemane, a story we will hear this Sunday, is that the best way to cope with our trauma and pain is to pray.

Jesus upbraided his disciples for sleeping not because he was against napping, but because he knows that the only way to cope with any time of trial is to pray.

How are you and I coping today? In what ways are we running, hiding, or medicating? How might we incorporate prayer, more fully, into our hour of need?

Hopecasting – Oestreicher
From Here to Maturity - Bergler

Slow Church – Smith and Pattison


There’s a little voice inside your head that’s working hard to convince you not to change.

It uses vocabulary like ‘safety’ ‘comfort’ ‘protection’ and ‘calm.’  It will raise all kinds of objections at the prospect of an alternative route. Red flags will pop up whenever variation or amendment appear.

Certainly blanket acceptance of everything new is as unwise as close mindedness – the latter being much more common. This leaves the more appealing posture of reasoned consideration – how else do we filter change from necessary change? Unfortunately, this is rarely the first voice we hear nor the one we always heed.

A teacher named Ed Friedman warns us to listen very selectively to this voice. He argues that the biggest obstacle to societal progress is our unwillingness to define then to make necessary change. He has diagnosed a condition called ‘failure of nerve.’ It’s our repeated reluctance to make necessary changes. Instead we take the easy route, maintain the status quo, and avoid doing the difficult work of championing what’s right through uncomfortable consequences.

So - what’s the little voice inside your head saying?

What is the necessary change we are facing? In what ways might we be trying to resist, oppose, defy, or stand against it today? Have we thought through why this is happening? How might God be in it?

Slow Church – Smith and Pattison
From Here to Maturity – Bergler
Called - Labberton

Going Astray

Like most Americans I like to eat – but I don’t like to get big.

That means I have to either eat less, or get bigger. I’ve decided to eat less. But in a world of abundant food, it’s hard to do. And it’s not just restaurants and friends’ homes – but almost everywhere. How many of us know that we can easily eat our daily, recommended number of calories just by wandering around Costco?

So I take some well-known advice and I try to drink a lot – even when I’m not thirsty, knowing that a large percentage of hunger pangs are attributed to thirst. This means I make sure that I’m around water a lot (also, the bathroom), because when I’m not I can find myself incredibly hungry, and subsequently eat more than my fill.

It’s the same with my spiritual life.

Like most Americans I want to be connected to God.

And I realize I live in a world of incredible distraction. There’s not a day that goes by when I don’t feel overwhelmed by the number of great books, movies, and TV shows that I’m not watching, the number of projects at work I’m not doing, the number of hours with my children I’m not spending, much less the attention to the poor that I’m not paying.

So I take some well-known advice and try to keep a daily habit of time with God. During this time I center myself, reminding myself of who I am, what I’m supposed to be doing, how much God loves me, and how I can thank God with my life.

This Sunday Jesus will advise us ‘not to be led astray.’ He knows that there are things all around us trying to distract and overwhelm us. He has also equipped us with abilities to focus and center ourselves. What are we doing ‘not to be led astray?’ What habits are we cultivating? How are we controlling our attention? What might we do today to avoid the detours and stay on track?

From Here to Maturity – Thomas Bergler
Called – Mark Labberton

Recess – Laurie Haller

Why Jesus Endures

Because you and I were created to love, we have a deep yearning for examples, for icons, for models and paradigms that can help us live more fully into our true selves – into love.

In the midst of our self-centeredness, hurriedness, anger (and frustration over our anger), we long for a way out. Deep down we want to be the people we know we can be – the people we were created to be – people of love.

This is why Jesus endures. This is why Christianity endures. This is why the Church endures. We are constantly seeking an out from the violence, poverty, and degradation, of which we are victims and perpetrators. This is why we look to the image nonpareil of a man who was able to live fully grounded, infused, and enveloped, in love.  This was our motive for getting baptized, confirmed, and belonging to a faith community. We yearn deeply for love to dominate our lives.

This is why we look to Jesus with the notion, ‘How might I be likewise? What might I do? How might I behave?’ And we see in Mark 10 we discover a secret: living a life of service.

Let’s face it, the pharaohs, emperors, kings, presidents, and industrialists of the ages have only spray painted their initials on the statues of Jesus, Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King, Jr. and the pantheon of those who did not set out to rule, reign, or enrich themselves – but to serve.

Deep down we know that making service the telos of our existence is our only shelter from the storm. Bill Gates, Warren Buffett, and any other ‘successful’ person of power who has discovered that real life is found not in acquiring but in dispensing, ultimately grounds their deepest worth not in what they brought in, but how they gave back.

A life of service does not start tomorrow. It starts today. Look around. Where’s the need? Who’s hurting? Who needs you? If the Son of Man came not to be served, but to serve, how can we do likewise? Our lives are our message to the world. Let’s make them inspiring.

Why the Pain, God?

If you’ve seen the movie American Sniper, or if you’ve read any books on the rigorous training that Navy Seals endure, then you know that becoming one of the world’s most elite soldiers is no walk in the park.

Navy Seal recruits are not only subject to torturous physical training, sleep deprivation, and exhaustion, but psychological strain that leaves them frustrated, angry, and confused.  At the height of their training they routinely ask what this preparation has to do with winning battles and how near-hypothermia and peer humiliation will make them better soldiers.  This is why most recruits quit.

The U.S. armed forces purposely put their most valuable and talented recruits in scary, uncomfortable places that leave them lonely and confused. This produces the best soldiers.

God does the same thing.

The call to discipleship is not primarily about happiness, comfort, or self-actualization. It’s about understanding that God has called the Church to do something at least as important as guarding borders and attacking enemies.  Discipleship is about continued self-sacrifice and denial aimed at improving the lot of the poor, hungry, and suffering. It is about witnessing to hope in a hopeless world. It is about cultivating peace in the midst of chaos.

So are you like me – questioning why God allowed something to happen that has been painful, confusing, and frustrating? Maybe it’s a business deal that went south, a relationship that never materialized, a health problem that seemed so senseless, the untimely death of a loved one?

Take heart. Your suffering does not go unnoticed. In some way, Jesus is with us. He knows our pain and frustration. And just because he doesn’t take it away doesn’t mean he doesn’t love us. It means that he’s using it in ways we will never understand to do things we can’t conceive. Take heart and be of good hope, my friends, today’s present sufferings are the stuff of redemption.

Ears to Hear

My five-year-old has a hearing problem.

Actually, he has a listening problem. There he sits, on the counter, so totally absorbed with eating, playing, watching a video, or talking to himself that I have to ask him two or three times if he wants more milk, to read a book, or to help clean up. He’s not deaf. But he’s deaf.

This Sunday you and I will hear a story about Jesus healing a deaf man. While it’s a literal healing of a medically diagnosable condition, it is also a metaphorical statement regarding our own human state: there are a whole lot of things that plug up our ears and keep us from hearing.

In my son’s case it’s the obsession of exploring a brand new world (remember, he’s five). But for you and me what makes us deaf usually revolves around the three A’s: achievement, acquisition, and appearance. Read that again.

While we were created to achieve, acquire, and look good, our society’s obsession with them routinely spills over and can become our fixation as well. Thoughts and strategies around achievement, acquisition, and appearance routinely clog up our ears and keep us from hearing the things of God.

Jesus’ healing, then, has to do with unplugging our ears – helping us put into perspective who we are and what we’re called to do.

Jesus does this by calling us to himself – often through prayer, quiet times of meditation, and pondering on the words of scripture. It’s reminding myself of who I am, who God is and what really matters. This unplugs my ears what works for you? 

If God Isn't Enough, What Is?

Living in the richest country that’s ever existed, along with its relative safety, abundance in food, clothing, and shelter, not to mention opportunity, it may be hard to imagine that a whole lot of Americans suffer from an anxious soul condition of wanting just a little bit more. We set goals and ambitions that produce nervous hearts and we crave what we don’t have and are thus less than happy with what we do have.

Pharmacies are filled with elixirs to calm us down and psychiatrists are booked with appointments to help us cope. And the irony is that deep down we know the answer is not getting more of what we don’t have, but finding contentment in what we do have.

On Sunday we will hear the familiar story of Jesus sending out 12 disciples to continue Jesus’ work. He will tell them to pack lightly. He will strip them down to the essentials - then give them even less. What he will give them is what they need. He will give them all of him. For they will travel with the Spirit who is watching their every step, providing food, shelter, and every necessity that appears.

It is in this radical asceticism that we discover anew that we already possess all we need to make ourselves happy. For happiness does not come from acquisition, but awareness. It is an awareness of God’s deep love and provision for us. It is an understanding that nothing happens to us outside of God’s providence. It is a deep knowledge that we are loved and worth loving. It is gratitude.

When God is not enough to satisfy our desires, it’s a good time for us to ask questions about our desires; what is it about that new home, car, outfit or even the longing for our loved ones to meet our approval, that must be acquired in order to complete us? Are we going too far in seeking cultural, familial, and self-approval for the goals we set and the people we aspire to be?

The most important gift many of us can give ourselves is gratitude. What might we do to make this the telos of our life’s trajectory? Can we imagine that the attainment of a grateful heart might hold the key to the contentment we seek? What steps can we take today to make gratefulness a deeper part of our lives?

When Hurt Becomes Healing

After 64 years in the same house, it was time for Jack the Hoarder to move.

But Jack did not want to go. Even though his children, neighbors, and Social Services had visited the home repeatedly, to urge Jack to leave behind the mounds of newspapers, rotting food, Styrofoam containers, and other assorted clutter. “This is my happy home, since 1950,” he would tell them, “Why must you torment me?”

Those with Jack’s best interests at heart were certainly not out to torment him. And eventually they won, and he left.  Jack went to a brand new assisted living apartment where, remarkably, 6 months later he was happy as a clam, “They make meals for me, change my sheets, and I don’t even have to go shopping,” he told his niece. What we may think of as hurt often turns into the healing we never knew we needed.

This Sunday we’ll hear a familiar story about a mentally ill man who urged Jesus to go away – not to heal him, ‘Do not torment me,’ he exclaimed. But Jesus was not out to hurt; he was out to help. And by the end of the story we find that Jesus knew better, and the man became well.

You and I frequently do things like this. We look at life’s torments as malicious. We look at those who criticize us as way off base and we rationalize. Yes, we see the bankruptcy, the illness, the bad review, the dashed relationships as torturous episodes we fight tooth and nail to avoid. We forget that God is the benevolent force of love who is working hard at every turn to not only make us our best selves, but to bring about changes in the world for the better.

What seems like criticism and pain is often a passageway to becoming a better version of ourselves. So let’s not shun the tough decisions, hard words, and cutting advice. Hurt often turns into healing.

When God 'Doesn't Care'

When the pink slip comes, the spouse announces an exit, the kids get slammed with an illness that we can’t do anything about – our first reaction, conscious or unconscious, is often anger against the Almighty. It may drive us away from prayer, from church, from God. Most of us have been there.

As time passes we might stay in that dark, distant place. Or we might soften. We might begin to see that God is not the one causing these things - that these things just happen – and that our anger against God is not helpful.

This Sunday we will hear a familiar story about Jesus sleeping in a boat when a storm comes along. We will hear the passengers’ first reaction as one of anger, as they awaken him with the words, ‘Don’t you care God?’ Jesus’ reaction is to calm the storm – and then to remind these onlookers that God not only cares, but comes to the rescue.

For whatever reason the way God rescues us is usually very different than the way we envision being rescued. How has that been true for you? When things bigger than ourselves hit us our knee jerk reaction is to blame. However, we’re better off when our blame is aimed in the right direction. 

Friends, God is on our side. Pause when tempted to blame. Sit tight. Avoid the hasty reaction – for we know in our hearts that we weren’t created to be tormented. Take heart, stand firm, carry on – we all want to avoid taking a swipe at the hand extended to help.

All the Light We Cannot See - Anthony Doerr
Mark - Morna Hoker

Why God Picked You

Imagine being one of the 12 disciples who agreed to follow Jesus.

“He was probably impressed with my organizational skills,” thought Andrew the fisherman.  “No doubt he needed some accounting help,” surmised Matthew the former tax collector. “I’m sure he wanted to tap into my managerial expertise,” thought Peter, the former small business owner.

We may think that God calls us because he is interested in the skill set we’ve honed – that God is in need of certain abilities and we bring them to the table – orator, writer, teacher, etc. – and so God calls us because of what we have on offer.

However, were that the case, Jesus would’ve gone to 100 other places of commerce, business schools, and centers of power before he would have plucked up a dozen subsistence-level laborers and miscreants to form his inner circle. It is clear that:

We are not chosen for what we see in us, we are chosen for what God sees in us.

God is up to something big and when we sign on to participate we lose the right to tell God what to do (as if that ever got us very far anyway…).

God chooses us because God sees in us things we don’t. We often fail to access our skills, and the skills of others properly - routinely underestimating our abilities and over-estimating the abilities of others. Even the things we’re best at are not void of epic fails and head-hanging regrets.

Accepting the call of Christ, then, is not about commending God for his great taste, it’s more about opening ourselves up to a wider vision - understanding that there is order, reason, purpose, and incredible value in who we are and what we do.

And while we may be tempted to live as if everything was random, nothing mattered, and that life would be perfect if only I could reach my goals, it’s as if God is saying, ‘It all matters. It’s all important – because I have goals more vast and beautiful than you’ll ever know. Trust in me. Aim higher. Know that you’re watched and cared for. Don’t be afraid of mistakes.‘