As we roll into the weekend, there is so much to anticipate!
Gatherings with friends and family (bring on the ham!).
Scrambling to hunt eggs.
Reflecting during a Good Friday service.
And of course celebrating on Resurrection Sunday morning!
As you’re aiming to live in the flow of Jesus’ heart and loving mission, I bet you’re eager to focus your prayers. But how? How do we truly align our prayers with God’s heart on such a wondrous weekend?
I’ll suggest five sure-fire ways to engage in Jesus-like, others-oriented praying:
Pray for happiness.
People everywhere are saturated in grump and gloom. Let’s ask the Lord to supply from his deep well of joy this weekend. After all, we always say, “Merry Christmas!” And we say “Happy Easter!” Let’s give that kind sentiment some extra significance by praying with extra passion and purpose. We can ask Christ, who is the source of true happiness, to supply his abiding joy in lavish doses as we gather with others. Happiness is a wondrous common (or uncommon) grace, too oft in short supply. But it’s a grace Jesus will delight to gush our way from his overflow of joy. Let’s pray it’s truly a Happy Easter!
Pray for hope.
We can readily feel engulfed in negativity and cynicism. Circumstances dump regular doses of hopeless, death-like living. In big contrast, our King Jesus deals out serious hope. And so do we as his faithful followers. Call out for fresh perspective! Pray that we’ll fix our eyes with fresh vision—and for dozens of others to see and sense his transformative hope this Easter! Cry out for souls to be flooded with confident expectation of Jesus’ gracious good coming their way. The renewal of all things really is coming—because of his glorious resurrection. Really!
Pray for healing.
Our neighbors, coworkers, family, (each and every one of us, if we’re honest) are banged up, scarred, bruised, and broken. We feel broken in our frail bodies; our minds get riddled with anxious thoughts; people everywhere feel overwhelmed. God’s sacred text reminds us in both testaments that the Messiah’s torturous wounds bring genuine healing in all the ways we so desperately need healed (Isaiah 53:5 and 1 Peter 2:24). Pray for healing!
Pray for help.
Too many precious people feel desperately lonely. There’s something extremely empowering when you learn someone’s truly in your corner, got your back, and standing with you in helpful solidarity. All that and more come people’s way when they trust the Risen King—and his helpful followers like you and me. The Holy Spirit, our Holy Helper, can rush in with his immense help. Let’s be praying that folks really sense they have such access to divine help!
Pray for hearts. Jesus’ Gospel is truly good news, through and through, true as true can be. After all, as Resurrected King, he is our wondrous hope, our help incarnate, and our deepest source of lasting happiness.
Let’s pray for hearts that are VERY receptive to the life-transforming good news. Boldly ask the Lord to stir hearts to say YES to Jesus’ merciful forgiveness, his gracious goodness, and his ultimate joy for now and all eternity!
Let’s pray! Let’s rejoice. And have a very Happy Easter!
Are you feeling foggy, stuck in the daily quagmire of down-in-the-weeds decisions as a leader?
In Uncharted Leadership, Angie Ward explains the key behaviors of adaptive leaders. First on the list, she urges:
Get on the balcony. It can be easy for leaders to lose sight of the big picture because we have gotten caught up in the action on the ground. But adaptive leadership requires a mix of action and reflection, much like the difference between being part of a dance versus watching the patterns on the dance floor from a higher perch. An effective adaptive leader will be able to move back and forth between views.
My own low-view frustration
Mid-January of this year, I had an especially bustling, frazzling week. Multiple meetings carried thick content and heavy conversations. I felt stuck. Very few interactions proved enlightening, easy, or carefree. I had one of those weeks when every relational interaction and task proved to feel more than a bit puzzling. Each day produced more questions, conundrums, and unsettled decisions.
It probably should not have surprised me. Over the years, I’ve sensed my perspective often gets fuzzier, more blurry right before the view sharpens. At the very start of the year, I was moved to pursue Jesus-like wisdom for the year’s challenges and directions. So, I prayed as I pondered:
How should our team best collaborate for the year’s key endeavors?
What should be our path for vision fulfillment?
How will we assemble a truly thoughtful strategy?
When is best to execute next steps?
Who do we really need at the table for next pivotal, winning conversations?
Extremely early on a Friday morning, I was headed home from a quick two-day conference in Des Moines. I boarded my 6 a.m. flight to depart. It was a gray, cloudy sky. In many ways, the morning scenery and temps matched my own outlook. Foggy. Puzzling. Challenging to see through and discern the way. I could not help but think how good it would be to get out of deep-freeze Des Moines.
Our draped-in-darkness plane was only half full, so I started out sitting in a sweet aisle seat. To my delight, no one sat in my row. Score! Plenty of leg space and elbow room. Like my other start-of-the-year mornings, I had begun opening moments of my day with fumbling, quick, reflective prayer. “Lord, help me see more clearly.” I had asked God’s Spirit to grant me Christ-like wisdom, power, and fresh anointing to do good (Acts 10:38).
But now a few hours later, as we approached thirty thousand feet, my head was down. I found my heart and mind flooded again with the fogginess of my week’s meetings, dizzying content from the conference, and further personal puzzlement over pressing questions. What should be those next steps? I was sipping a hot coffee I’d purchased before boarding, but I was still feeling very groggy from my 3 a.m. wake-up. My head was hanging.
Then I looked toward the far seat. Glancing through the window, I was drawn to shift over and look out. “Oh wow! What a wondrous new view.” We were now gliding across a carpet of clouds, and a thick line of glowing sun was starting to peak just above them. It was stunning to behold.
And right there, my download of clarity commenced. For the next several minutes, my heart and mind were flooded with fresh, clear, crisp ideas to meet my challenging conundrums. I grabbed my journal and pen. What flowed from pen to page was definitive, stunning, and joyously confidence-building. I gained:
Core concepts for upcoming teaching content.
Clear focus for developmental endeavors with our leaders.
A colorful collage of essential training to offer.
Faces and names of great people to include.
Even probable times and locations for certain events.
Wisdom from above
Perhaps you call it being in the flow or gaining an epiphany. I can say with certainty, the LORD answered my earlier-morning prayer. My need for fresh wisdom, anointing, and powerful insight was being met with his rich resources. I was so grateful. Those amazing moments calmed my heart, set the stage for the new year, and steadied my pace for multiple meetings, brainstorming conversations, presentations, and think-tank sessions with others in the weeks to come.
In our quest for leadership clarity, I believe this is one sweet outcome of following the Apostle Paul’s injunction: “If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth” (Col. 3:1-2). Classic words of wisdom urge us: “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil” (Prov. 3:5-7).
Three Perspective Prompters
How have you personally made space in the past to climb higher and get fresh perspective?
What leadership issues have you feeling stuck, slogging too low in perspective right now?
What will you do this week to climb higher in your view and seek the Lord’s wisdom?
Wondrously, the morning’s news about the Queen overshadowed the too-typical avalanche of bad news that has ransacked our screens in recent weeks. All eyes were on Buckingham Palace and Elizabeth II’s big celebration. When you consider her personal affliction and heartbreaking loss in recent years, such a week of commemoration is extra splendid.
All the clamor is a fresh reminder of our infatuation with the Crown. And once again, I pause to wonder why. No doubt we’re impressed by the glitz, glamor, and spectacular festivities, but I think there’s something more, something deeper, perhaps even something primal that draws us into the royals’ story.
The earliest royals
Many biblical scholars see Adam and Eve, on the early pages of Genesis, as royals who offered their worship to God through their work in the sanctuary-garden. God’s intention for the original man and woman in the domain he designed was that they serve in his kingly likeness, reflecting his royal image (Gen. 1-2). This same language of serving and working arises in Isaiah’s servant prophecies, with strong implications for Israel’s collective work as a nation, the coming Messiah’s leading work, and the eventual servant-workers of God in the New Testament (Isa. 42:1-4; Matt. 12:18-21; Phil. 2:5-11).[1]
With its presentation of divine speech and masterful design, the text of Genesis 1 and 2 holds early clues into the kingly nature of God himself and the unfolding story of his kingdom. W. Lee Humphreys’ narrative analysis leads him to conclude:
While not specifically enthroned in a palace/temple specially built for him, the overall image of God in Genesis 1:1-2:4a is royal. God appears as a king – a monarch – whose words bring to pass, who orders the realm he rules . . . God is the absolute ruler of heaven and earth, shaping and governing a realm over and apart from which he stands. He commands, names, judges, and thereby shapes his realm.[2]
Hence, these opening scenes reveal God with royal character and kingly actions. The stage is set for his kingdom.
The creation of humans in the imago Dei, “male and female,” points to the unique relational capacity of human life and divine intention of interdependency. By extension, the image of God denotes humans’ ability to share in God’s relational life as Father, Son, and Spirit. This is hinted at in the foundational statement, “Let us make humans in our own image.” Further significance in the imago Dei can be seen in the New Testament usage of the phrase “image of God” in unique relation to Jesus Christ. His descriptions in Colossians 1:15, Hebrews 1:3, and Philippians 2:6 reveal Jesus as the best example of humanity, the true pattern of God’s attitudes and actions.[3]
Genesis’ story of humanity’s creation in the image of God includes the report that God blessed the man and woman. God had previously blessed the living creatures on the fifth day (Gen. 1:22), and now he blesses humans. The Hebrew term, bārak denotes an enduing with power for success, prosperity, and longevity, a blessing that confers abundant and effective living upon something or someone.[4] Introduction of this specific Hebrew word so early in the story is extremely significant to understanding a missional hermeneutic. It’s a specific way of reading and interpreting the biblical story as the kingly story of redemptive mission. The theme of blessing and variations of this term prove pivotal to God’s intentions with humanity across the biblical text (Gen. 12:1-3, Ps. 67, Matt. 5:1-12).[5] God’s ultimate intention to use his chosen people to bless the nations flows out of his own nature as presented in this initial story. As supreme King, he will use humans to craft, curate, and share kingly blessings that flow from his very likeness, his love, and his plans to restore the kingdom.
Reclaiming the fallen kingdom
Sadly, humanity’s fall in Genesis 3 brought devastating changes to God’s original royal design. The curse (Gen. 3:14-19) included significant new limitations and frustrations related to the everyday work of “ruling and reigning.” Our sin ushered in the ugly reality of death (Gen. 3:19) and expulsion from the Garden of Eden (Gen. 3:23-24).
As the biblical story continues, a dramatic theme emerges. God’s loving mission toward redemptive salvation for all his creation, including royal renewal. In fact, the whole biblical story from cover to cover is really a royal story of God’s passionate mission to redeem his fallen royals and the fallen kingdom. The King is out to save his kingdom, starting with the royal ones—those originally made in his kingly image.
So, what about royal work now? With salvation through Christ’s gracious cross, the empty grave, and our renewal in his image, Christians now engage in royal work for tangible expression of Jesus’ kingdom (Matt. 5:14-16; Eph. 2:8-10). Andy Crouch synthesizes the opportunity for believers seeking to find meaningful missional impact in our everyday endeavors:
Jesus had a profoundly cultural phrase for his mission: the Kingdom of God. It is hard to recapture the concept of kingdom in an age where monarchs are often no more than ornamental fixtures in their societies, if they exist at all. But for Jews of that time and place, the idea of a kingdom would have meant much more. In announcing that the Kingdom of God was near, in telling parables of the Kingdom, Jesus was not delivering “good news,” as if his only concern was to impart some new information. His good news foretold a comprehensive restructuring of social life comparable to that experienced by a people when one monarch was succeeded by another. The Kingdom of God would touch every sphere and every scale of culture. It would reshape marriage and mealtimes, resistance to the Roman occupiers and prayer in the temple, the social standing of prostitutes and the piety of the Pharisees, the meaning of cleanliness and the interpretation of illness, integrity in business and honesty in prayer.[6]
Through such kingdom-focused, intentional culture making, God is still writing his grand story.
Could our daily work really be royal work?
Christ-followers long to know that their whole lives, especially numerous hours at the daily grind, have genuine significance in the bigger story. God’s divine drama as presented across Scripture can serve as the guiding, motivating story for people’s personal meaning and all kingdom work. His story stretches from Genesis to Revelation, and the story continues today in and through the lives of Christians. It advances as growing disciples embrace the powerful opportunity to work as responsible citizens in His ever-advancing kingdom.
Additional royal highlights include Abram’s call in Genesis 12:1-3. With his call to the Father of faith, God supplied a gracious answer to humanity’s sin and subsequent descent (Gen. 3-11). With his charge to Abram to “be a blessing,” his reversal of the curse brought the salvation blessing “to all nations.”
The Kingdom of God is woven further throughout the grand story. Exodus 19:3-6 explains God’s intentions for the Israelites to play their unique role. They were to be “a kingdom of priests and a holy nation.” In like manner, the Apostle Peter calls Christ-followers to live their everyday lives as active priests in the kingdom (1 Pet. 2:9-21). And let it sink in. Such call includes us, today.
Climactic scenes in Revelation celebrate the work of Christians as a “kingdom and priests” composed of people “from every tribe and language and people and nation.” Such eschatological conclusions beautifully echo the sounds of Genesis 12:3 and Exodus 19:6. Rich colors in the biblical tapestry encourage present-day Christ-followers to not only enjoy the old story but also boldly play their own roles as missional priests in his kingdom today.
Icing on the royal cake? The Kingdom was Jesus’ central focus. His Sermon on the Mount supplies his core agenda for how his followers will think and act in a new kingdom culture (Matt. 5-7). How to seek and work within the Kingdom of Heaven serves as the master thought of most of Christ’s parables. Across the Gospels, Christ’s teaching and miracles supply profound perspective for how his followers should work responsibly as citizens in the kingdom. Twenty-first century disciples can still hear these stunning kingdom stories and be motivated to do good and faithful work for their Master.
Christ’s workers encounter deeper significance by distinguishing between their primary call (to discipleship) and their secondary call (to a certain role or career path). In order to grasp true purpose, one’s personal call and response to God must be given first priority. “Seek first His kingdom . . . and all these things will be given to you as well” (Matt. 6:33).
With such big buzz over the Queen’s jubilant celebration, I’m struck by these kingdom threads. I think the bigger reason we love the Crown is linked to our deep-inside, primal craving. We long to know our own “ruling and reigning” every day really matters. Present-day Christians find motivation in the concept that all God’s people can be engaged in work for the kingdom. That includes work every day outside church walls and palace walls. In God’s estimation, it’s not just the work of a literal royal, like Queen Elizabeth, or work performed by vocational church workers, like pastors, that is truly significant.
Daily work done by all of us in Christ’s name is the work of royals!
[3]Stephen R. Holmes, Image of God, in Dictionary for Theological Interpretation of the Bible, ed. Kevin J. Vanhoozer vol. (Grand Rapids: Baker Academic, 2005), 318-19.
[5]John H. Sailhamer, The Pentateuch as Narrative: A Biblical-Theological Commentary, Library of Biblical Interpretation (Grand Rapids: Zondervan Publishing House, 1992), 96.
Is it possible to grow stronger in the troubling times? Enjoy this excerpt from my book, JOY & THRIVING.
Our eyes flooded with tears as we drove away from the doctor’s office. We felt overwhelmed. It was a chilly, gray, and windy November morning. Nanc’ and I had just learned that we were having a miscarriage. As we returned home, a storm was hovering over our region. We were devastated. How could life possibly feel any worse?
Pulling into our drive, the wind grew more severe. As we approached the house, we discovered that chunks of our roof were lifting and blowing off. I remember sitting in our bedroom, bawling together, and listening to the shingles fly from the top of our townhouse. It was one of those days when you wonder if someone secretly taped a “KICK ME” sign on your back. The winds of trouble had rolled into our lives with gale-force strength. It was ugly and crushing to our souls.
James says, “Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds . . .” (1:2). Notice, it’s not if. From James’ perspective, troubles are not a college elective you opt to take because you might have some casual interest. Here’s the harsh reality. They happen whenever. Troubles and trials are a very normal part of life.
Some translations say “various” trials. The word can also be translated “many-colored.” Troubles come your way in all shapes, sizes, and flavors. And “come your way” has an even more picturesque idea. Literally, the ancient language says, “when you fall into troubles.” Think of your car sliding off the road into snow or your tractor getting stuck in a muddy hole. Most of us know all too well what it feels like to fall into troubles.
We’ve got Trouble, with a capital T!
Pandemics, market meltdowns, and black holes of anxiety carry angst way beyond Professor Hill’s fabricated crises in The Music Man. Our own genuine capital T troubles should not really surprise us. Unfortunately, in our quest for carefree, always-happy, healthy-wealthy, and rose-colored lives, we get shocked every time trouble hits. It might help our overall world-and-life view to realize that troubles are part of the normal fabric of life. It’s as if James is saying: get used to it!
That’s not ultra-pessimism, just a dose of reality. Some systems of theology and versions of church popularize the notion that God only ever wants to bless your life with smooth sailing, tranquil waters, and endless happiness. “You just have to be spiritual enough, faith-filled enough, positive enough. Then all your dreams can come true.” Hearing what James teaches us is essential to a better understanding of genuine life and true faith in King Jesus.
Sadly, COVID-19 devastated lives in our local nursing homes. A dear and godly man from our church—immensely loved by his wife, children, and grandchildren—was among those stricken with the dreadful illness. In those weeks before he stepped into Jesus’ presence, none of his family were able to visit him. Goodbyes had to be said over the phone. It was tragic. I stood at the graveside with his precious family, overwhelmed with them in the realization. He was gone. Treacherous illness descended on this man and his family. It felt so unfair. He had lived an upstanding, generous, devoted life.
Such a twisted, cursed outcome never seems to add up, no matter how much we tap the calculator keys. James knew it too, and so did those early Christ-followers, “the twelve tribes scattered abroad.” They were facing the distance, persecution, famine, and opposition. How could a good and loving Father let such things happen?
James realized a vital truth we need to realize. Trials and troubles do come; there’s no escaping them. We cannot stop them. We can’t catch lucky breaks by doing a bunch of righteous deeds. You might think that would be ideal, but life has never really worked that way. Ours is still a sin-cursed world. We are still awaiting Christ’s glorious return and the ultimate renewal someday in his wondrous new kingdom. James challenges us, whenever trials come—and it’s inevitable, they will blow your way—we are to “count it all joy.”
Count it all joy? Really?!
Really? I know what you’re thinking. “You’ve got to be kidding! Count it all joy? That’s outrageous. Who in their right mind can rejoice over COVID-19 or a miscarriage?” And to make matters worse, the attitude James is calling for is not some flighty joy, like “good feels” born of happy days and fun circumstances. Phillip Keller explains that
the joy which is a hallmark of God’s Kingdom is not a state of happiness dependent on changing circumstances or on what is happening around us. It is, rather, a serene, stable spirit known only to those who enjoy the presence of God’s person within their lives. They sense and know that the King is in residence. In this awareness, there lies enormous assurance and quiet joy . . . free from fear and joyous with the strength of God, no matter how tempestuous life may be.[i]
James is calling us to develop such deep-in-our-souls satisfaction and contentedness, no matter what blows our way. Do you sense the King is in residence? Are you enjoying his presence?
Jesus’ brother says, “Calculate troubles as fresh opportunities.” He was calling those early Jesus-followers—and us today—to take a very intentional outlook. A deliberate, chosen frame of mind. This is crucial, because we too often react instead of respond. We freak out in ugly anger or loopy worry or dismal depression. We think, “Woe is me! No one else has ever had it this bad.” Or “I’m a victim.” Or “It’s all over; this is the end; I will never recover.” It’s our knee-jerk reaction to say, “That’s it; I quit. I’m not going to even try anymore.” So, we give up in whatever arena we are experiencing troubling times.
It’s “giveupitus.” We give up on our family. We give up in school. We give up in the business. When you find it’s not easy being a committed follower of Jesus. When your choices are not wildly popular with your family. When people at work are bringing pressure on you to compromise your values. When you’ve been rejected by someone because you follow Jesus. When the winds of the COVID-crisis season are blowing even more shingles off your roof. It’s tempting to say, “I give up on passionately pursuing and following Jesus!”
Notice James’ aim with such intentional outlook: all joy! Here’s an opportunity for truly abundant, exuberant, overflowing joy. Again, real joy goes beyond our normal ideal feelings of situational happiness. Instead, this joy is deep in your soul satisfaction, no matter what your circumstances. It’s born out of resilient faith, a serious trust in God’s loving, good, and all-wise plans.
A million-dollar question
In verse three, James describes troubles as “the testing of your faith.” Such a test aims to prove something is genuine. Will the renowned expert on The Antiques Roadshow verify the dusty, ugly vase some dude bought at a yard sale is the real McCoy, worth thousands more than he paid for it? James claims that trials prove our faith is the real deal.
But what is faith? There’s a million-dollar question. Faith gets tossed around in mainstream media along with buzzwords like love, sex, and cheeseburgers. All sorts of feel-good-ism and self-help is often associated with today’s popular talk on faith. But what is it, really? Erwin Raphael McManus astutely explains: “To the best of my understanding, faith is trusting God enough to obey what He has said, and hope is having the confidence that God will do everything He has promised. One pushes you; the other pulls you.”[ii] I love such an explanation. Faith is grounded in serious substance. With substantive faith, we dare to take God at his word and trust his promises are really true. Then we choose to live all of life like he will do exactly what he said he will do.[iii]
What if our tough times are really the best times for growing stronger? James explains what such testing of your faith produces. Greater endurance! It’s stick-to-it perseverance. You remain patient in the midst of the suffering. Perseverance means you stand your ground in the trouble. Like Rocky being bludgeoned blow after blow by Clubber Lang in Rocky III. Though he’s exhausted from being pounded, Rocky stays on his feet. He keeps bobbing and taking more of the beating, just waiting for the right opportunity.
Though James originally struggled to believe, his encounter after Jesus’ resurrection awakened his own faith (1 Cor 15:7). Those early days for Jesus’ family and friends were fear-filled with the threat of persecution. It was here that James joined the fellowship (Acts 1:14). In such a crucible of controversy, as the early church was getting started, James’ own endurance began to grow. Eventually, he became a key leader and was recognized as a “pillar” in the growing movement (Acts 12:17, 15:1-29).[iv] Perseverance means you hold on and hold up under the pressure. It’s staying power! We all need such endurance, the grit to persevere, especially in times like these.
What’s typically required for us to thrive under pressure? You only build more muscle by adding weight and repeating more reps. You will likely add distance and improve your running time as you doggedly push up the same painful stretch of hills day after day. You resist your every urge to give up. Stronger character only grows in our lives through experiencing troubles, and continuing to climb.
Choose joy when you encounter suffering, and you will build the kind of memory muscle necessary for thriving. You’ll develop greater tenacity in your own soul as well as greater capacity to share joy and thriving with family, neighbors, coworkers, and other friends. Notice what James says next. “Let perseverance finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything” (vs. 4).
One of God’s greater aims as we persevere in troubles is to hand-craft our genuine completion, a more thriving maturity in Christlike character. Here’s motivation to fully embrace the work God wants to do in your life through troubles and suffering. Why? The pay-off will be huge! You will become a different kind of person—complete, mature and developed—more like James’ big brother Jesus. You’ll have a deeper inner framework, primed and ready to graciously bless neighbors, coworkers, family, and others.
Serious question. Do you really believe your life can look more like Jesus? Ponder that. Too often, we stay stuck in the hole we fell into. We just wallow in the mud. When I take personal stock, I am afraid I’ve spent too many days making excuses, hiding behind my sorry circumstances, or collapsing again under the weight of my troubles. James urges us to buy into something richer and wiser. Living with more thriving, Christ-like tenacity can be a reality. But you have to choose joy in your various trials. And keep choosing joy. As you do, you’ll grow that stronger perseverance and be ready to live on mission for King Jesus in greater ways!
Reflections to help you grow stronger and thrive
What’s are the current troubles you’re facing? What’s your current trial feel like, and how are you handling it?
How might your situation and attitude look different if you choose real joy?
What will it take for you to see your troubles as opportunities for growth? Who could help you frame your situation with such perspective during this season?
Describe two or three tangible ways you can persevere right now. Paint a picture for yourself of what thriving endurance would look like.
Pray with an eager, teachable spirit. “Lord, show me more. Please grow me more.” Tap into deep determination based on Christ’s strength.
[i]W. Phillip Keller, A Layman Looks at the Lord’s Prayer, Chicago: Moody Publishers, 1976, p. 71.
[ii]Erwin Raphael McManus, Seizing Your Divine Moment, Nashville: Thomas Nelson Publishers, 2002, p. 146.
[iii]I am forever indebted to Dr. James Lytle, long-time friend and professor. I first heard him share this understanding of grounded and active faith when I was an eighteen-year-old, sitting in his “Building a Biblical Lifestyle” class.
[iv]Richard J. Foster, Streams of Living Water, New York: Harper Collins, 2001, p. 68-9.
Streaming tears. Yes, I will own them. Each time I’ve watched Wonder—the movie based on R.J. Palacio’s award-winning novel—I’ve been ambushed by this oh-so-moving story.
Born with a genetic disorder, Auggie’s little body required multiple surgeries. He wears his astronaut helmet because his face is distorted, even after plastic surgery. Auggie and his loving family live in Brooklyn. Originally taught at home, he’s finally sent to school in fifth grade. With helmet off, Auggie faces the full range of staring, pity, mockery, and bullying by kids. This amazing story traces Auggie’s school year, along with his parents, his sister Via, and his struggling friend Jack Will. We encounter stunning twists and turns revealing how people see Auggie and how Auggie sees everyone else.
The bulk of my daily work involves seeing and serving suffering people, deeply in need of help. If you ponder your own projects and tasks, you’ll likely conclude that’s true for most of us. From financial planners to nurses and doctors, school teachers to store clerks, automotive technicians, physical therapists and pastors, we major in helping all sorts of people. Precious people with very special needs, capabilities, disabilities, heartaches, hang-ups, hopes, and dreams.
Many days, our most pressing question becomes:
How will I see the person or group of people in my path? Will I see people more deeply, beyond my face-value, knee-jerk reaction?
The local church where I serve as lead pastor aims to love others with Christ-style love. Our aim is based on Jesus’ holistic call to love God with all we are and to love our neighbor as we love ourselves (Matthew 22:37-40). That means our planning and behind-the-scenes efforts often involve strategizing endeavors for people who are experiencing physical, emotional, financial, spiritual, and mental suffering. Then our very public, weekly events, gatherings, and services include active interface with those precious people.
Every Sunday, a host of people greet me, including multiple individuals with special needs, pressing health crises, and emotional distress. They long for encouragement, a listening ear, affirmation, prayer, a dose of genuine good news, directional wisdom, and practical help. I am regularly challenged with this foundational attitude choice: Will I see them as too different, unique, other and awkward? Will I glance their way, feel uncomfortable, and say to myself, “Yikes! Let’s move along now. Look away. Let’s shift focus to the ‘normal’ and ‘beautiful’ people!” OR will I truly and deeply see the precious people in my path?
During Auggie’s wonder story, especially poignant are the moments in Mr. Browne’s homeroom. This oh-so-wise teacher places a monthly precept on the board. September’s is:
“When given the choice between being right and being kind, choose kind.”
In Palacio’s book, Mr. Browne’s May precept is from John Wesley: “Do all the good you can, by all the means you can, in all the ways you can, in all the places you can, at all the times you can, to all the people you can, as long as you ever can.”
Masterfully and subtly, Wonder’s screenplay writers wove the issue of how characters truly see one another all throughout the film. Auggie’s potential new friend, Jack Will, struggles with peer pressure from other boys who don’t want to hang out with Auggie. Jack vacillates between befriending him and bullying him like the other kids do. Eventually, Jack reveals his own true feelings about Auggie: “You get used to his face . . . He’s really good at science, and I really do want to be his friend.”
Mr. Tushman, the seasoned school principal, says something so stunning during his office confrontation with the bully Julian and his haughty parents. He challenges them: “Auggie can’t change the way he looks. Maybe we can change the way we see.”
A wrap-up concept near the movie’s end nails it:
“If you really want to see who people are, all you have to do is look.”
How do you see people with whom you work? Your clients, coworkers, and employees, especially those who are suffering or just different in light of their disabilities and special needs? I am moved by the divine work of seeing people, really seeing them. At the biblical culmination of creation, right after God crafts humans, we read:
“God saw all that he had made, and it was very good” (Genesis 1:31a).
Scene after scene during Jesus’ ministry here on earth, we read:
“When Jesus saw __________ . . .” (Matthew 5:1, 8:14, 9:22, 14:14 plus numerous others).
When Jesus saw all sorts of people with all sorts of needs, the result was always some deliberate action, instruction, or other form of loving service in response. All because of seeing people via deeper outlook.
Let’s slow our steps, fix our gaze, and savor conversation. Let’s ask better questions, hear people’s stories, and gush kind affirmation. Folks are full of hopes, hurts, special needs, and yes, setbacks, missteps, mistakes, struggles, and heartache. But they also possess such powerful potential to display wondrous love and real joy. As we really see people, we’ll recognize more of God’s image and what a wonder people truly are.
O how I need greater doses of divine sight for all my interaction with others. Let’s see each person we encounter with fresh wonder this week!
Wind and the wintry mix were pounding our roof as I awoke. (‘Must confess, the little kid deep inside me said, “Ah, the storm did indeed deliver.”) After a foray outside with Musti, our Bernese-shepherd mutt, I began the joyous task of shoveling the driveway. I am well aware in light of the forecast, that is just round one.
Of course, I am contemplating when I’ll build the fire. This will require carefully stripping newspaper, strategically clumping kindling, and then lighting the flame. Snowy days like today certainly call for a fire. There is other work to do today, but a snowy day like this requires making a fire.
I’m struck with the integral connection between holy interruptions in our regular schedules—these God-appointed disturbances, like snowstorms—and the opportunity to make something. We learn of the God who oh-so-creatively makes things in Genesis 1. Many years later, Jesus reminded his critics that his Father is always working (John 5:16-18). So I’m challenged today with the opportunity.
I can make the most of the space, the sweet grace of extra time. I sense the Lord’s promptings today. “John, whatever you do during this storm, you must make something.” Just perhaps, we might each hear his whisper carried on the winds and driving flakes of snow. Perhaps we’ll dare to embrace our Father’s sacred dance of playful creation and a change of pace.
Build the fire and keep it burning all day. If you have a woodworking shop, use the time to build that table or refinish an antique chair that’s been gathering dust. Make french toast—and bacon, and eggs, and waffles. Go all out. Throw on your warmest snow clothes and go make memories—even just thirty minutes worth—with your kids. If you’re married, home alone, just the two of you, make the most of your time together. Wink-wink. (Need I really encourage this? It’s likely there will be a significant spike in hospital maternity traffic approximately nine months from this wintry blast.)
So, why not make something extra-special? You get the idea.
It’s an extra-crucial concept right now during this pandemic season. So many of us have become accustomed to working our normal jobs from home. No doubt you will need to do some of that normal work during the snowstorm. Just don’t miss the sacred chance to blow the whistle at least a few times along the way today.
Perhaps such gracious time carved out by snowstorms might, after all, be more like what God intends for our normal Sabbath rhythms (Genesis 2:1-3). I too often forget that intentional holy disruptions are commanded and encouraged, integral to practicing God’s intentions for truly abundant, good life.
We are too typically too busy. Snowstorms and accompanying Sabbath are made by our all-wise Father, for our good. When Jesus and his disciples walked through the fields and plucked grain on the Sabbath, the Pharisees’ critique and Christ’s teaching proved unique and mildly puzzling (check out Mark 2:23-28). At least one of Christ’s intentions was to help us embrace the empowering tension of Sabbath. Yes, it’s commanded. Yes, we’re to be spontaneous. Yes, it’s God-like. And yes, it’s VERY good for us.
Stephen Cottrell, describing more sensitive Sabbath principles, urges us: “So never speak of wasting time or spending time. Rather, say you are enjoying it or giving it away freely. Never say you have an hour to kill. Rather, say you have an hour to revive, to bring to life, to ravish.”[1]
Let’s ravish our way through the upcoming snowy hours. Now go make something!
Special note: this post has been adapted and refreshed from another post on a snow-stormy day back in 2017. It seems I needed reminded again.
[1]Stephen Cottrell. Do Nothing to Change Your Life: Discovering What Happens When You Stop. (New York: Seabury Books), 2008, p. 69.
In the wake of the rioting and insurrection on January 6, I’m still trying to sort through the melee. My own soul needs calmed related to the unrest and violent actions. On this day as we remember Dr. Martin Luther King, we all hope, long, and pray for cooler heads, calmer hearts, and a peaceful inauguration week.
Plenty of people are denouncing what transpired at the U.S. Capitol and saying, “Enough is enough. The hate must stop!” Voices are gathering and calling for more voices of peace.
I’ve been wrestling with an antithetical concept: I think we need a stronger hatred. I’m serious. Please hear me out. Consider the Apostle Paul’s engaging words:
Don’t just pretend to love others. Really love them. Hate what is wrong. Hold tightly to what is good. Love each other with genuine affection,and take delight in honoring each other. Never be lazy, but work hard and serve the Lord enthusiastically.Rejoice in our confident hope . . . Bless those who persecute you. Don’t curse them; pray that God will bless them. Be happy with those who are happy, and weep with those who weep. Live in harmony with each other. Don’t be too proud to enjoy the company of ordinary people. And don’t think you know it all! Never pay back evil with more evil. Do things in such a way that everyone can see you are honorable. Do all that you can to live in peace with everyone . . . Don’t let evil conquer you, but conquer evil by doing good.Romans 12:9-21 (NLT)(emphasis mine)
Here is a foundational concept on our way to peace. It’s essential to “hate well.”[1] Hating well means we despise and push back all that is evil in our own hearts and in our collective consciences. It means starting right here in my chair, I vehemently combat the attitudes and actions that promote rank racism, self-consumed vengeance, and violence toward those of a different political persuasion. If there’s any real war to be waged, it must start in my own heart, to push back my own self-consumption.
St. Paul insists that we all CAN work for peace. He calls for genuine love, enthusiastic service, blessings instead of cursing, real-time empathizing, intentional harmonizing, and an everyday willingness to hang out with ordinary people. In these ways and more, we actively “hate evil” and “work for peace.”
Do we grasp the deeper purpose of peace? Additional biblical passages relate the necessity of serious action for Christ-followers, even employing the language of work. Consider these:
Turn away from evil and do good. Search for peace, and work to maintain it.
Psalm 34:14 (NLT)
And work for the peace and prosperity of the city where I sent you into exile. Pray to the Lord for it, for its welfare will determine your welfare. Jeremiah 29:7 (NLT)
God blesses those who workforpeace, for they will be called the children of God. Matthew 5:9 (NLT)
Do these Scriptures have non-violence and the peaceful resolution of conflict in view? Absolutely. Are these truths applicable for both personal relationships and international affairs? Most certainly!
But is some passive posture all they have in view? Absolutely not. The core biblical idea behind peace is the robust Hebrew ideal of shalom. Christ’s peace is vitally related to the idea of actively working for human flourishing.
Richard Foster correlates: “Shalom embodies the vision of a harmonious, all-inclusive community of loving persons. The great vision of shalom begins and ends our Bible . . . The messianic child to be born is the ‘Prince of Peace,’ and justice and righteousness and peace are to characterize his unending kingdom (Isa. 9:6-7). Central to the dream of shalom is the magnificent vision of all nations streaming to the mountain of the temple of God to be taught his ways and walk in his paths.”[2]
Such Christ-honoring, grace-fueled call to “work for peace” supplies the basis for SO MUCH grace-based work that is happening already. Christ’s church today is being moved toward—
Stronger collaboration
Rather than rushing to join the saber rattling on “the left” or “the right,” more churches are working harder to actually communicate for positive change. Stephen Graves affirms: “Collaboration can be a freeway system for the gospel to travel. Non-collaboration can be a disappointing dead end or stifling roadblock.”[3]
Such collaboration begins with a highly personalized, one-person-at a time, heart-by-heart approach. Let’s admit it. We all have an encrusted aversion toward those people who are “the others”—those souls and skins who seem so antithetical to our own likes, loves, dislikes, and preferences. In great contrast, collaboration means I cultivate a holy hatred for my personal arrogance, laziness, and disgust for “the others.” Then I more deliberately love those people with different perspectives, different skin color, and the plethora of different cultural preferences that so often fuel my prejudices. We can each choose to host a meal, join others for coffee, and intentionally respond to their active overtures for mutual togetherness.
Strategic innovation toward greater flourishing
More churches are working toward Gospel-proclaiming and innovative community development. Such development aims for redemptive relationships leading toward economic growth and an overall shalom that’s grounded in saving grace. Where this is happening, both globally and in communities near our churches, such innovative work supplies a beautiful picture of counter-intuitive kindness (Romans 12:20). Through creative discipleship groups, brighter business plans, and expanding social justice in communities, Christ’s gospel is helping more people experience greater flourishing—real peace with God and peace with one another![4]
Herein lies the vibrant, Christ-like ideal of working to evoke positive change, forward momentum in the lives of people who are in need spiritually, socially, emotionally, and financially. We dare not forget, such need includes you and me! We are each impoverished, in need of God’s grace.
The local church with which I serve has certainly not arrived on these issues. Like most churches, we still have miles to go. But we are actively teaching, promoting, and mobilizing for greater one-on-one peace-making as well as stronger regional impact and more thoughtful global impact. After all, such healthier hatred of what’s wrong in our world and more loving pursuit of peace is rooted deeply in Jesus’ kingdom agenda for Gospel work.
Let’s hate what is wrong in our world and continue overcoming that evil with grace-motivated good works—all for Christ’s glory. On this historic week and in the wake of the so-sad events at the Capitol, we can all take steps to work for peace.
[1]Life guru Henry Cloud expounds this concept in 9 Things You Simply Must Do to Succeed in Life and Love. (Nashville: Thomas Nelson, 2004), 139.
[2]Streams of Living Water (New York: Harper One, 2001), 171.
[3]The Gospel Goes to Work: God’s Big Canvas of Calling and Renewal (Fayetteville, AR: KJK Inc, 2015), 122-123.
I face plenty of confounding, confusing, utterly puzzling situations, especially right now. Don’t we all? Christmas season 2020, questions loom large. All is not automatically merry and bright, right? What do we do about family gatherings? How do we make already-stretched dollars stretch even further? And advance planning for 2021, is that even possible?
Amidst my own wondering, I’ve found lately that it’s really good to simply, boldly pray:
“Please King Jesus, come meet with us. Show us the way. Lend your wisdom, please Lord.”
Headed into a board meeting and wondering, “What in the world? How will we address that?” Or a tangled situation for one of my still-maturing sons and asking, “Where’s the wisdom? What’s the right way to go?” Or trying to encourage a friend but honestly grasping at thin air: “Is there something, anything I can really say to help.”
Here’s where I find myself more and more these days just tossing out the gutsy, on-the-fly, hurry-up heart cry, “Please Lord Jesus, come meet with us. Show us the way. Lend your wisdom, please.”
We tend to think of Christmas as the magical miracle time. But I think this year, more than ever, we need the wisdom of Blumhardt: “The work for God goes on quite simply in this way; one does not always have to wait for something out of the ordinary. The all-important thing is to keep your eyes on what comes from God and to make way for it to come into being here on the earth. If you always try to be heavenly and spiritually minded, you won’t understand the everyday work God has for you to do. But if you embrace what is to come from God, if you live for Christ’s coming in practical life, you will learn that divine things can be experienced here and now . . .” (Watch for the Light: Readings for Advent and Christmas)
If you’re like me, you might be saying, “Okay, okay, but what about those times when I just don’t see it, or no answer is landing, no insight cometh, and all still feels utterly confusing?” I think that’s where we must come back to the confidence that comes from the babe who already came. The prophet Isaiah foretold:
For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor,Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the greatness of his government and peace there will be no end. He will reign on David’s throne and over his kingdom, establishing and upholding it with justice and righteousness from that time on and forever. The zeal of the Lord Almighty will accomplish this. Isaiah 9:6-7 (NIV)
One name really stands out for me this week: Wonderful Counselor. I love how The Passion Translation renders “Counselor.” TPT says his name is “The Extraordinary Strategist.” There’s a wonderfully fresh and encouraging way to think of your wonderful Christ. Even when I don’t yet have the answer for the puzzling family conundrum or know a solution to the board room dilemma. When I’m still not sensing how to work out a snarled situation or have a word of encouragement for my friend. It’s in those moments I can turn to my Extraordinary Strategist and say,
“Please King Jesus, come meet with us. Show us the way. Lend your wisdom, please Lord.”
So good to know, I can trust he will accomplish that, because he already came. Based on the ancient prophecy and Jesus’ arrival, I can know with confidence, he’s on it. He’s working. He’s got this! Why? He is the Extraordinary Strategist of Christmastime.
What should we make of today? In my own past praxis, nothing much, really. It has been the immensely blah, pay-no-attention, make-no-mention day of Easter weekend. At best, it’s been a day to run-around, shop for last-minute must-haves, and finish getting ready for tomorrow, the truly monumental day, Easter Sunday.
2020 if of course, different. Very different. We are all locked down, very busy staying at home and doing a whole bunch of nothing. Well, sort of. If we’re honest, some of us feel busier than ever in our spirits. After all, there are new tasks to do. Schoolwork. Baking. Online shopping. Kids. House repairs. Care calls to make. Videos to upload. Economic trends to chart. New strategies to craft. And another Zoom meeting. Isn’t it ironic during this time of so much staying home and such a shift of our life gears, now so much of our existence is run by the word zoom?
My own Friday was full in its own strange way. I won’t bore you. Yours was too. We just did Good Friday in all its horrific glory. And as good Christians, we are quick to say: “But Sunday’s comin’!”
I am struck this morning with the reality that I have seldom pondered today, Saturday, the day in between. For thoughtful Christians across the ages and round the globe, this is holy or joyful Saturday. From the cross on Friday, Christ cried out his last words, his sixth and seventh sayings: “It is finished!” and “Father, into your hands I commit my spirit.” Holy Saturday serves as a poignant reminder that his body was laid in the tomb by Joseph and Nicodemus (St. John’s Gospel, chapter 19), and there he rested.
We tend to want a busy Jesus, the sort of Savior who was still running off to do something, even in spirit. Over the centuries, scholars have debated: what was he doing in that in-between? Did he truly descend to hell, preach good news, and free the captives? Well, maybe, and maybe not. It’s a long-fought creedal debate, and since this is Holy Saturday, I am simply not feeling the compulsion today to actively engage the mental work or exert the energy necessary for full-on combat of the age-old controversy. (You can also have a pass today to not have to settle that one, if you’d like.)
What I am drawn toward is the sacred connection of Christ’s 2nd-day posture. He rested. In his incarnation, Jesus was fully inhabiting the fulfillment of the Hebrew sabbath. His body was at rest. His spirit was at home with his Father. And he rested. Full stop. Nothing more. No zoom for Jesus.
I have workaholic tendencies. I am not proud of that. Combine that with perfectionism. There’s a deadly-to-the-soul combo. So, I am extra-moved in this Holy Week 2020 when I realize that sisters and brothers across the ages have also referred to this day as Joyful Saturday. My soul is struck by the permission to do nothing today, nothing but rest in body and rejoice in soul.
That push-push, reach-for-something-more side of me as a leader, author, and speaker would typically grab two or three more books or articles and aim to craft another paragraph or two. I would consider my labor unfinished, my striving incomplete with what I am sharing right here.
And then I recall, my Lord said, “Tetelestai!” It is finished.
And so am I. Will you join me in making this a truly joyful, Holy Saturday?
Best we can, let’s do nothing, just a little bit better.
We were driving through West Virginia, headed back from visiting our middle son at college in Kentucky. Our youngest, Josiah, suddenly called. “Mom, Dad, did you hear? Kobe Bryant just died in a helicopter crash.” Similar to everyone, we were stunned. I must have said “Oh no, Jos’—that’s so sad” at least a dozen times in the next two minutes. In the hours to come, we learned further details, including the horrific loss of his daughter, Gianna, and seven others.
Such moments are surreal for everyone. When we got home mid-evening, our family conversations continued, including prayers for the Bryant family. Such a tragedy is so much for a sports-loving fourteen-year-old and his friends to process. (Good grief, it’s a lot for parents to process as well.) So many feelings, so much sorrow and heartache.
I’m struck by the reality: there is a collective work about grieving that we do better together. Perhaps you remember 9-11, or the space shuttle Challenger’s explosion, or even JFK’s assassination. In our shock at such events, we abruptly pause. We inhale the sudden sting and exhale our angst with tears. I am moved in such moments that we always have the opportunity to either duck and hide, push away the conversations, run from the pain, or we can collectively work through it and let something new and good happen inside us. I am convinced that if we boldly, courageously embrace the work of such collective grieving, we can actually grow stronger.
When facing grief, both our own and others’, it’s important we resist every urge—both self-induced and pushed by others—to rush our responses. Quick fixes and pithy spiritual platitudes are rarely productive. Don’t hurry yourself to get over your grief, and be very careful what you say to friends and family when they are experiencing loss. H. Norman Wright cites a number of our well-intended but too-often unhelpful, potentially even pain-producing clichés.
We dare not hurry ourselves and loved ones to quickly process grief, to “just get over it,” and get on with life. But we can choose to get back up, step forward, and trust God with bigger hope. When you are ready, you can choose to walk a fresh path. You can focus on God’s provision for your brighter future. You can boldly embrace your fresh start toward a deeper faith—an overcoming, hope-filled trust to match your deepest grief.
Blocking and shoving
In their original, sidesplitting blockbuster, Shrek and Donkey are camping outside, guarding Princess Fiona as she sleeps in the cave. Staring at the stars and moon, Donkey decides to play therapist and confront Shrek about his threat to build a wall around his swamp to keep everyone out. In their terse, back-and-forth interchange, Donkey makes the now famous and oft-quipped statement (at least it’s quoted often in the Pletcher house), “You cut me deep, Shrek. You cut me real deep!” With a sullen face and folded arms, Shrek abruptly rolls to his other side. Donkey gets in his face. “You’re blocking.” “No, I’m not!” Shrek adamantly denies as he rolls to his other side. “Yes, you are!” Donkey retorts.
Remembering Kobe serves as a healthy reminder for us all. Grieving can and should be cathartic. How often do we self-protect, block others, or otherwise try to hide what we’re really feeling, unwilling to let others see us grieve? Especially with our kids or at the office, in the shop, or out on the production floor—how preposterous would that be, to let others know you are grieving?
Kristin Brown courageously ponders four principles for better grieving. She urges—
Don’t feel ashamed to show your grief. You may be worried about crying at odd times, like in the middle of a meeting. Give yourself permission to be a little less poised.
Avoid making major decisions while grieving. Some decisions may be unavoidable. But for those that seem optional, it’s best to wait until your thinking is less clouded.
Don’t interrupt or abbreviate your season of grief, but productive work is healthy. Both hope and joy can co-exist with sorrow and sadness. Putting your hand to the plow with tears coming down your face is not a bad thing.
Share in the sorrow of those who are grieving around you. People in grief want to know that others are, in a sense, carrying some of the sorrow that they are experiencing.[2]
Catharsis at work
A dusty Hebrew proverb says: “Each heart knows its own bitterness, and no one else can share its joy” (Proverbs 14:10). Here is the salty, sincere mix, those raw reflections on the fragile nature of our human hearts. For the hours and days to come, there will be a bitter-sweet, ongoing work in remembering and grieving Kobe.
Already last night, Josiah and some of his baseball friends were reflecting. Over the years, they have commonly recognized Kobe’s GOAT (greatest-of-all-time) status with a fun ritual. During practices, they gather up dozens of stray baseballs and throw them into the coach’s bucket. As they throw them, they shout “Kobe!” It’s been their ongoing expression of adoration for the legend. Last evening, a number of the boys—including several of us big-boy coaches and dads—were lamenting how that toss of baseballs toward the bucket will never be the same again. Down deep we chuckle, and then more tears roll.
What if we allow remembering Kobe to do a good work in us? Perhaps we’ll talk more openly together—big kids and little kids—about what it means to grieve and also find fresh hope. Maybe we’ll talk more deeply together about what it means to truly live life to the full. Let’s squeeze our kids tighter. Let’s hold each other—family and friends—even closer. Let’s listen well and even more intentionally affirm our kids, friends, and coworkers. We all need listening ears and encouragement.
Go ahead and cry. Oh yes, cry tears. That’s healthy. But don’t stop with tears. Let’s encourage each other to choose a bigger and better hope. May we all be more tender and caring with one another. We live in such divisive, hate-mongering, quarrelsome times. Perhaps such care, tenderness, and hope in the face of grief might propel us into an ongoing love and stronger civility.
What if we deliberately work toward more genuine love, that depth of selflessness and others-orientation that our loving Creator intended from the start? Let’s remember Kobe, and let our collective grieving lead us to both receive and give God-like love more deeply and freely.
johneltonpletcher 