Pesky Patterns

Why does it have to be this way? Act I. In order to clean up the bedroom--I mean really clean it--we first have to make it messier. Out come the boxes and clutter from under the bed. The dust bunnies have to be herded into open before the vacuum can pull them into the corral. The winter clothes have to relinquish their hangers before the spring clothes have a spot in the closet. Two hours into the project, the bedroom is most definitely messier than it started. Granted two more hours later the bedroom looked and smelled great! But the pattern is a kick in the ribs--messier before cleaner.

Why does it cost money to save money? Act II. As a family, we decided to trim back on our utilities bill. The home phone is hardly used as our cell phones are always on, so off with that feature. The extra cable stations show nothing but infomercials, Texas Hold 'Em games (is that even a sport?!), and reruns of Hannah Montana, so off with that feature. The high-speed broadband Internet signal ... well ... two out of three is a good start, let's just leave that feature alone. [Anyway, the chances for family mutiny greatly increase with threats to tamper with the Internet connection.] But in chopping off those two features, we no longer qualify to get the "bundle" rate on Internet and basic cable so the savings per month were not nearly as deep as we hoped. And, on top of that, we also had to return the equipment the cable company was "loaning" us as a perk with the larger service package. So in the end, we had to pay $50 to save $60. The pesky pattern holds.

Why does spiritual growth require pain? Act III. We all want to grow in our spiritual maturity, but there is always destruction before there is construction. It is never just starting afresh and anew; there must be excavation of the heart and the mind, plumbing the depths of personal motives, confessing sin, and initiating conversations that have been long avoided. Two steps into the process and we are far more broken than we bargained. Faith says two steps more before we see any progress, but the pattern is easily disheartening; disheartening, that is, unless we doggedly keep the end result in sight.

Lord, answer me, demanded Job. But God's answer was too much for Job to stomach. Lord, show me Your glory, Moses prayed. But the glimpse unglued him. Lord, allow that my sons, James and John, sit at Your right and Your left. But the request was far too bitter for them to endure. Lord, please take this thorn in my flesh away, pleaded Paul in triplicate. But the removal of this pain would unravel so much that the Lord had already cultivated in Paul's heart and mind.

Were it not for the promise of the Lord's presence, none of us could bear this pesky pattern--brokenness yielding restoration, mourning yielding dancing, weeping yielding rejoicing. But we have a High Priest who not only knows this pattern theoretically from a distance. Our High Priest knows this pesky pattern experientially and so empathizes with all who follow Him through pain to paradise. Lord, please take this cup from Me ... not My will, but Yours be done.

Working Your Part

Good job, good job … in a close game an R.B.I. is just as good as a hit—applauded my daughter’s softball coach. Her teammates cheered in agreement, “Yeay, Emma!” Though narrowly thrown out at first base, she drove in a lead-changing runner from third base. It was marked down as a fielder’s choice in the box score, but Emma showed a question mark on her face. “Dad, what’s an R.B.I.?” she asked me through the chain link fence as I sat in the drizzle in a faded blue fold-out chair. This was her first at-bat in her first game in her first season of softball. “An R.B.I. is a run-batted-in … you forced the other team to make a throw to first base to get you out so that your teammate could score. In a close game, an R.B.I. is as good as a hit. You worked your part so the team could succeed.” “Oh.” The significance still hadn’t dawned on the rookie.

“Oh!” Working your part so the team could succeed—the significance still hasn’t fully dawned on the veteran either. The month of May brings many things—flowers, pollen, end-of-the-year testing, graduation, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day—but it also brings analogies for life from the ball field. Though most of us do not wear team jerseys anymore, we are still players on many teams: family, work, community, church, etc. Yet, do we often realize that our individual contribution plays a larger role in the team’s success? Our participation sets into motion, creates the space, offers the time, holds back the opposition so that success, growth, advancement, progress, unity can mark a run scored in the cosmic box score. It is never just a random at-bat that leaves no mark in the overall team experience—it is one of relatively few at-bats that causes the other team to expend the energy to pitch and catch, that elevates the pitch count, that weakens the pitcher’s arm for later innings, that could allow her fastball to lose some steam, that could allow another player make contact with a pitch she could not turn on in earlier innings, that requires the shortstop to have to run deep into the gap to field the groundball, that leaves her off balance so that her throw to first base is off-target, that allows the game winning runner to reach third, so that when a rookie approaches the plate for the first time her humble contribution scores the lead-changing run. There is great significance in working your part so the team can succeed.

Paul said it this way, “the whole body [think: ‘team!’], being fitted and held together by what every joint supplies, according to the proper working of each individual part, causes the growth of the body for the building up of itself in love” (Ephesians 4:16). “Oh.”

What is your part? What is your role? What is your contribution? What is your piece? Yours is not a random at-bat; it is one of relatively few that counts within the entire flow of the team and the conclusion of the game. Work your part so that the team can succeed. Individual stats are meaningless when compared to the end result of the team. “Wow!” May the significance fully dawn on all of us.

Kevin Rees, May 1, 2009

Cannot Spend Our Way Out of Recession

Money is on my mind ... not only because of our church's participation with the free, live event via streaming video with Dave Ramsey's "Town Hall for Hope" (this Thursday at 7p CST, www.townhallforhope.com/), but also because money is on nearly every news show, in very many conversations over backyard fences, and because the bills keep showing up in my mailbox. It is even on the international scene. At the request of a friend who intelligently keeps his finger on the pulse of "all things current," I watched a video from the UK parliament about ... you guessed it, money. But the conclusion ... well ... hit the money. "Prime Minister," one Daniel Hannan said, "you cannot spend your way out of recession; you cannot borrow your way out of debt" (www.youtube.com/watch?v=94lW6Y4tBXs). Wow, that is different from what I am hearing about money on those news shows. I am ready to get even more serious about standing in the freedom of frugality and even more resilient to the worldview that shouts, "Spend more money now." [I hope you can attend a "Town Hall for Hope" event at our church or one of the many other venues nationwide.] We must not give in to fear. "So do not worry, saying, 'What shall we eat?' or 'What shall we drink?' or 'What shall we wear?' ... but seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own" (Matthew 6:31,33-34).

Proximity Does Not Equal Nearness

Devotion involves motion. Sometimes abrupt, sometimes steady, sometimes slight—but devotion involves motion. But even that statement—devotion involves motion—seems like a shallow echo of its deeper punch. Devotion demands motion! However, motion is not necessarily a physical characteristic. Devotion demands motion at our spiritual core. At times devotion compels and propels us to “go out, not knowing where we are going” (Hebrew 11:8). But devotion-motion might also cycle at full-tilt internally while our feet remain at home. Devotion demands spiritual motion … and all spiritual motion intersects Calvary.

I am awed at the microcosm at Calvary. Around the crossof Christ, during the day of His crucifixion, even at the precise moment of his death at 3pm when “He breathed His last” (Luke 23:46)—a full representation of humanity orbits. Many are in physical motion that dark day; but not all motion is devotion-motion. The “centurion” (Luke 23:47) is on shift duty; initially there because he has to be there. The “crowd” (Luke 23:48) is present because, frankly, they want to be there in a disturbing circus-kind of darkness. The apostles, reduced to anonymous “acquaintances” (Luke 23:49a) are there, but not really … close enough to see, but far enough to elude identification with Christ and risk their own arrest. The “women” are there, as close as their appropriate fragility will allow, but the pain is sharp. They will be the first witnesses of the resurrection.

Within these four groups everyone is represented and every response to Calvary is demonstrated: a volitionally thoughtful response, the frenzied and cursory response, the painfully passive response, and the acutely emotional response. But proximity to Calvary does not equate nearness to Christ. The crowd is closer than the women, but the women understood the deeper punch of Calvary. The women seemed to be shoulder-to-shoulder with the apostle/acquaintances, but the apostles were elsewhere internally. The soldier ought to have been so desensitized to Roman crucifixions by this point in his career, but he kept rapt attention to all that was happening with “this Man” (Luke 23:46). All of humanity orbits Calvary, voluntarily or involuntarily, but not all land on the Mount of Crucifixion. Many hover around the vicinity of Christ, but few cling to the cross of Christ.

Devotion demands motion … motion of the spiritual nature. It is the motion that breaks the inertia of sedentary spirituality. It is the motion that moves us from onlookers to witnesses wherever our feet happen to be physically. Let me suggest taking two steps. The first step: step into the narrative … which role do you fill? The second step: wherever your starting point happens to be, step toward Christ by faith. May these two steps be the first of many as the Lord moves you from onlooker to witness. “Almost” is never close enough to the nearness of God in Christ Jesus.

Kevin Rees, April 3, 2009

The Clash of Confidences

Though I am reluctant to remember, I have been known to watch Saturday morning professional wrestling matches. In my pre-teen era, the "actors" in the canvas ring included such names as Hulk Hogan, Andre the Giant, Jimmy "Superfly" Snuka, and Randy "Macho-Man" Savage. The clashes were legendary ... staged, yes ... hyped up, certainly ... but legendary. Look out, your adversary might grab that metal folding chair when you're not looking or disoriented from the pile-driver or the suplex from the top rope. "One, two, three, that's a match, folks."

But the clash of confidences lives on, interestingly enough, in the ring of spirituality. And this challenge dwarfs any of the professional wrestling matches in any era. In the blue corner, religion. In the red corner, relationship with Jesus Christ. There could be no more diametrically opposed adversaries than these--religion and relationship. Allow me to run down a list of synonyms that sheds light on what I mean.

Religion is man-made; attempting to please God with the things we can do and generate. Relationship is God-given; standing upon the fact that Jesus pleased God for us, doing everything perfectly on our behalf.

In the blue corner is trying. In the red corner is trusting. In the blue corner is striving. In the red corner is resting. So the contrast continues: flesh vs. Spirit, law vs. grace, works vs. faith, duty vs. love, have-to vs. want-to, complying vs. obeying, never-ending vs. once-and-for-all, death vs. life, the curse of Adam vs. the blessing of Christ, slavery vs. freedom, external vs. internal, image conscious vs. heart conscious, renovation vs. regeneration, Pharisees and the Sadducees vs. Christ and the apostles, oral tradition of men vs. the written Word of God, Old Covenant vs. New Covenant, the blood of bulls and goats vs. the blood of the perfect Lamb of God.

Christ has exposed the hollowness of man-made religion, challenged its confidence, and extended His hand of grace to rebuild a relationship severed since the Garden. "One, two, three, that's a match folks!" Hallelujah, what a Savior!

Up to Easter 2009

Join us this season at Fellowship Bible Church as we march toward the center of our worship calendar—Resurrection Sunday, April 12. Even without the chocolate bunnies and the bright spring colors that Easter invariably and delightfully brings, this is a joyful and deliberate season of pilgrimage. We are marching to the cadence of the death, burial, and resurrection of Jesus Christ—with so many other born-again worshipers all over the world. It is a spiritual journey we all must personally take in faith—trekking up to the city of God to glimpse (for the first time or for the next time) upon the great love of Christ against the dark backdrop of our sin. But even with the personal nature of faith, our faith is never meant to be isolated from or insulated against those who walk these same, well-trodden paths up to Easter. We really are meant to sojourn together. Join us as we march, together fixing our eyes on Him.

Cheating Death

There was frantic barking in the backyard. What was it this time? Did the dogs corral another mole? Is the meter-reader attempting a brave shortcut through our backyard? Is that frisky Border-collie taunting from the fence-less beyond? I gave it no second thought. But apparently Shellie did not so easily disregard chaos. She brought the report a few minutes later; her voice slightly frantic—“It’s a stray kitten. The dogs have a kitten and are tossing it around like a chew toy.”

It turned out that the kitten was not supper; not even bloody, just terribly slobbered upon. Shellie was somehow able to get the dogs into the garage, coaxing the kitten out from a corner, setting it free on the dog-less side of the fence. It sprinted off, but did not sprint away. Into the night the kitten meowed, taking residence in our van’s warm, dry, and safe engine compartment. Safe, that is, until we cranked the engine … which we mercifully didn’t do the next morning.

After extending to this rather foolish kitten water, food, and solitude over half the next day, we decided to double our efforts of scatting this cat. We turned on the van’s radio, misted the engine area with water from a spray bottle, rolled the van backward (without the engine), doused the cat with the garden hose, called Animal Control, and (with the officer’s help) finally started the engine. Surely that would scare it off. No.

This traumatized, wet, disoriented, sticky from dog slobber, stray kitten was decidedly not going to come out without a physical removal. With much effort the officer finally snagged the little … (ahem!) feline … but it wriggled free. And where did it run? IT RAN BACK TO OUR BACKYARD WHERE THE DOGS WERE WAITING. We darted to get the dogs in. The officer darted to pluck the kitten from the jaws of “round two.” How many lives this kitten has left is only a guess.

But the analogy of the story is its punch. Here we were attempting with great effort to show mercy and grace to this kitten; being even more cognizant of the danger than it was. Yet for all of our trying, the kitten was convinced that we were the enemy—sadistically heating up the environment, causing all kinds of racket, slinging water around on a cold and windy afternoon. And after a forceful deliverance, at first opportunity, the kitten attempted to dart straight back into the “lion’s den” where this whole escapade started. We are that kitten! In the jaws of our own sin and death—there was literally no escape. Mercy and grace stepped in, in the person of Jesus Christ, to rescue us. Yet in our frenzy, largely oblivious to the depths that rescue effort cost Him and meant to us, we run straight back to the danger from which we were plucked because we misinterpret His forceful rescue as malicious toying. Nevertheless, He will not let us wriggle away—even when that is all we want to do at times.

“I give eternal life to them, and they will never perish; and no one will snatch them out of My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all; and no one is able to snatch them out of the Father's hand. I and the Father are one” (John 10:28-30).

Kevin Rees, March 4, 2009