We Still Don't Get What Love Means...

The following post by Jamie Tworkowski smacked me squarely in the face.

I've been listening to Ray Lamontagne for the last couple years. Ray is a brilliant songwriter who delivers stories in something like a deep smooth whisper. He has that golden voice, but I think it's his honesty that I connect with even more. His songs seem to be born from questions and pain, and if I myself am honest in saying more, I think I connect with this because I am a person who thinks a lot about pain. I wrestle with the broken stuff in my own life and in the lives of the people around me. I have a lot of questions.

It is for all of the reasons above that some friends and I drove 500 miles from Florida to Atlanta to see Ray Lamontagne play on a Saturday night a couple months back. We parked and made our way excited to the door, and as we took our place in line, I heard it:

"You're going to hell."

The man's voice was loud and not kind and he added his thoughts on fornication and homosexuality, angry answers to questions that no one was asking. In the first moment I was shocked, and I then I was sad, and then I was walking towards him.

"Do you think this is working?" I asked.

I figured he would be excited that someone actually wanted to talk to him, and he certainly seemed prepared for an argument. Instead, the yelling guy told me that I would need to talk to a different person, pointing toward the younger man to his left. (The yelling guy needed to keep yelling.) Now, this whole thing surprised me because I had no idea that these people had assistants. I guess the kid was learning the ropes, hoping to be prepared to yell on his own within the next year or two...

I told the kid that they needed to stop, that they were only doing damage, offending everyone. I told him that people respond to love, and that I could hear no love in their shouted judgments. His response made me more frustrated, and after a brief back-and-forth, I rejoined my friends in line and entered the show.

It took a while to calm down and let it go. In theory, the yelling guy and I believe some of the same things. "We're on the same team," you might say. But I believe in a God who doesn't scream at people the first time He meets them. Evangelism aside, screaming at strangers seems a horrible marketing plan to me. I believe in a God who places a great emphasis on love, a God who loves people and asks His followers to do the same.

After the show, I thought about yelling guy because he is also the reputation of "the church." We are known to the world as something like this guy. We tell people how to vote and think and live. We shout our judgments. We are quick with our answers and slow to confess our questions, maybe slower even still to meet other people in theirs. A shouted "You're going to hell" is an awful introduction to a God who desires to love and know His children.

And it's interesting that all of this happened on a Saturday night, because Saturday nights set up Sunday mornings. Some people stay out late, hunting for meaning and answers in songs and bars and a thousand other places, because they're certain that our Sunday mornings would only be more like shouting strangers. But what if we were known as a people in true pursuit of love, a people committed to representing it well? What if we were known for constantly showing up to wrestle the needs and questions around us, and what if we took it so far as to be honest about our own?

One Quadrillion Synapses...

I thought this recent post by Mark Batterson was intriguing:

I came across an interesting factoid today. The human body has approximately 100,000,000 (one hundred million) sensory receptors that enable us to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell. And that is a testament to our Divine Designer. We are fearfully and wonderfully made. By the way, when was the last time you thanked God for each of your senses? We have seven million cones that enable us to perceive about ten million different colors. Doesn't it seem like we owe God seven million thank yous?

Now here is what I found fascinating: neurologists estimate that the average three-year old has 1,000,000,000,000,000 (one quadrillion) synaptic connections.

Honestly, those numbers numb us. But I think they reveal something significant. Our ability to imagine things in our mind is far greater than our ability to interpret physical reality. Mathematically speaking, imagination is ten million times more powerful than our five senses put together!

Naturalism is living down to the limit of our one hundred million sensory receptions. It is the inability or unwillingness to perceive reality that is beyond our five senses. The end result? Our universes shrinks to the size of our senses.

Faith is living beyond our five senses. It is being certain of what we do not see. One dimension of faith is imagining what our five senses can't perceive or confirm. It is extra-sensory perception. And that is why faith often seems like it is out of touch with reality. But that is because it is ten million times more powerful than our senses!

One of my favorite verses is Ephesians 3:20: Now to Him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine, according to His power that is at work within us, to Him be glory in the church and throughout all generations for ever and ever, Amen.

Translation? God is able to do immeasurably more than we can imagine with our one quadrillion synapses. Amazing isn't it? Our imagination is ten million times more powerful than our five senses. But God is still able to do infinitely more than anything any of us can imagine with our one quadrillion synaptic connections. And to top it off, no mind has conceived of what God has prepared for us

Shucking Oysters...

This picture was taken during my time in New Orleans this past week. I'm sitting with ACU student and good friend, Shannon Williamson, instructing her in the fine art of oyster shucking. You'll notice in the picture the essentials for shucking oysters: glove, oyster knife and red sauce (for use in quickly transferring oysters from shell to mouth).

Kirk and Jenny Garrison were our gracious hosts for this delightful evening of dining... and Jenny took this picture.

MeChurch...

This video makes me laugh.



This video makes me think.

On Frying Fish...

I spent last night alongside a 75 year-old African-American man frying fish in big kettles. More on that in a moment.

With both ends of a small street blocked by patrol cars from the New Orleans police department, the ACU Spring Break Campaign team I'm part of helped host a "community block party." The Hollygrove church, recently planted by the Carrollton Avenue church, was the official host of the block party.

Free fried fish, a moon jump for children, and gospel singing led by SoHills own George Pendergrass were the ingredients of the block party... along with a big contingent of the Carrollton Avenue church and our Spring Break team. From 6-8 p.m. in 90% humidity the block was rocking. People were flowing down the streets from nearby houses to the party to be greeted, given a plate, and a heaping helping of fried fish, mashed potatoes, lemonade and the gift of a special welcome that I believe is unique to God's people. It was very cool stuff.

The diversity of the crowd was refreshing. The friendliness of those who mingled was inspiring. I people who hugged me around the neck for being one of the fish fryers. Is that cool or what?

And the fish frying... I never knew it was so fine an art form. My 75 year-old "frying tutor" was patient with me, since initially I was apparently doing everything wrong. I was stirring the fish too frequently, I was not allowing them to cook long enough, I was squeezing too much of the grease out of them (okay, I made that one up)... but after an hour of straddling a pot of boiling vegetable oil, he finally acknowledged that I "seemed to be getting the hang of it." (Yes! Another line of work to fall back on if I ever leave full-time ministry!)

The "community block party" was great... and it's something I'd like to encourage all churches to consider doing. After all, offering fish to large crowds is something Jesus did during his earthly ministry (so there's clear precedent for this kind of thing). It's a great way to meet people who drive by your church building every day but who wouldn't be comfortable stopping in on a Sunday.

And if you need a fish fryer, I'm available and experienced.

Kingdom Question...

I had one of the ACU students who's on our New Orleans Spring Break Campaign team ask me a question last night. This student wanted to know if I believed in a "Big Kingdom of God, or a little Kingdom." When I asked for a bit of clarification, the student replied, "Well, when people who say they believe in God disappoint me... I'm not sure I think they're in the Kingdom. So, God's Kingdom keeps getting smaller for me."

I'm always appreciative when people are straightforward in sharing their thoughts... and I affirmed this student for their willingness to pose such an honest question.

My reply to this student: "I believe in a big Kingdom of God... because I'm one of the most imperfect, sinful people I know. And I'm counting on, through the grace of God, a place for me at God's Kingdom table."

I'm a fan of Kingdom of God conversations.

Don't Be...

I had lunch with Larry M. at a local restaurant last Thursday. Our server was Seth, who I found out later was an ACU student.

Seth was friendly, prompt in taking our order and attentive without being intrusive. Like most of the young men and women I encounter each week behind food counters or table-side, Seth put the "serve" in server.

Our lunch finished and the bill paid, Larry and I were preparing to leave the restaurant when Seth reappeared at our table. Seth said that he was an ACU student, and further mentioned that he had visited SoHills on several occasions. He indicated he'd seen me during his visits to SoHills.

Then he said, "I just appreciate the kindness and courtesy the two of you have shown me... it's been a pleasure to serve you. It's not often that people I recognize from the churches in town treat me the way you have." And Seth smiled and walked away.

I don't share this story as a pat-on-the-back for Larry and me. No, I'm hearing Seth's comments as a wake-up call to each of us who call ourselves Christian servants... but who treat with disregard or disrespect the "servers" we come in contact with every day at the grocery store, the lunch counter, the mall, or gas station.

Those in our communities who know us as "church people" and who observe a disconnect between what we sing and profess inside of our church buildings and how we treat them... they have a word to describe us: hypocrite.

Don't be.