Old Soldiers

This is an old post from about 5 years ago when I was with Cleveland Youth for Christ. Some things here were of value, and I believe it is worth sharing again. Memorial Day is past, but some things are worth keeping in mind longer than one day.

Have you ever talked to an old soldier at the end of his life? My brother once interviewed our great Uncle Guy for an elementary school history paper. It's amazing the things that came out of his mouth. Uncle Guy served in Africa during the Second World War. His 82nd Airborne Company liberated a concentration camp there. He told the story as if it happened yesterday. He spoke of the struggle and the quiet pride that came with bringing freedom to the oppressed. He was a real hero.

Today was a rough day for me. We had some rough ministry issues to deal with at the office today. People are tired. We've all been in this fight too long with too little support. I keep seeing more people in need, more people causing need, more evil, and more oppression. Today I visited several Cleveland City Schools to get ready for an outreach project we will be doing there. As I exited one of the buildings, I watched a 5 year old child with hatred in his eyes try to start a fight with a preteen twice his size. All this kid new was anger. All he had to hold on to was pride. When I was five, I had no enemies. I thought fighting was something Chuck Norris and the A-Team did when evil ninjas were present. This kid should be watching cartoons and eating Jell-O, but instead, he's in a territorial fight for survival. My heart sank to my feet to see the desolation these kids live in.

It doesn't end there. I keep seeing the effects of sin ruin lives in my family, my friends, and my community. Days like this the fight just seems too great. Days like this I just want to hunker down and pray for God to just take us home. I feel like one of those soldiers who is just tired of fighting, but just can't see the end of the war coming any time soon.

I needed the advice of an old soldier. I needed a season veteran to remind me that this was all worth it, that the fight won't last forever, but that even if it did, it would still be worth it. Sometimes a war movie brings some encouragement in times like these. So, when I got home, I decided to put in Band of Brothers. No sooner has the opening credits passed when the phone rang. I picked it up to find my grandfather at the other end. I wish you knew my granddad. He's been ministering to people for the last 50 years, usually in volunteer and part-time positions. He's got true grit. Back in the 60s, he was standing up to church leaders who wouldn't allow African Americans to marry in the church. He used to do bus ministry, picking up kids from bad situations and taking them to church for help. A few years ago, one of the kids from his bus ministry testified at a dinner about how my granddad had radically influenced the direction of his life through that bus ministry. That kid is a respected pastor now. My grandfather has been a pastor, a mentor, a father, and a friend to countless people over the years. He has fought the good fight no matter what the cost, and sometimes the cost has been great. He has never been a rich man. He has sacrificed and humbled himself for the cause of God's Kingdom.

I didn't tell him about my day. I just listened. He wasn't on the phone to tell me stories. He just wanted to say "Hello" and remind me that he loves me and is proud me. His words were steady and slow. Seasoned wisdom is always better when it flows slow and smooth. Without knowing anything about my day or the battles I've been fighting, he tells me about how blessed he is, how happy he is to see his grandchildren (all of them) serving God in some way. Not many men can boast that at the end of their lives. He's reaping the harvest of his life now. He fought the good fight for decades. He stood when no one else would stand. He fought for the underdog even when it meant great personal loss. He obeyed God when it cost him money and friendships. He loved people. He's a real hero.

You would think that 50 years of service would be enough. Surely a man like this who has worked so hard would be justified in sitting at home and resting for the remainder of his days on this earth. Not this soldier. Just a few years ago, he started volunteering at a church reaching starving and neglected teens in rural West Virginia. I don't think he plans on ever really retiring. His plan is to fight to the end.He'll go out fighting. He's not looking for his rest in this life,because he's looking forward to a reward in the next. Twenty minutes on the phone with my grandpa is enough to keep me motivated for months. I don't care how tough my days get. I don't care how hard the fight is. I have a duty to give everything I have to the Kingdom of God. I want to be able to look back on my life and know that I did everything in my power to advance His Kingdom to the world. A great day of celebration is coming.

Here's my challenge for this week: go find a hero in the faith. Go talk to an old pastor or a church elder who has been serving God effectively for a very long time. Just spend some time with them. Don't ask for a bunch of stories and a motivational speech. Just talk with them and see where the conversation goes. Chances are, you'll leave inspired.

Who is one of your heroes of the faith and why?

Reprised by Joy

Recently I visited my family in my home town to find both it and them changed. The heroes of my life who held me up for so long are growing weak and breaking down. Grandpa (mom's dad) soldiers on though Parkinson's disease has all but immobilized him. He moves with a slow steady shuffle and struggles just to stand. Grandma (mom's mom) died several years ago. The things that he once looked forward to are now in his past. He looks now to the future of his grandchildren and great grandchildern rather than to his own. You can see it. He often looks at us with a knowing smile as if to say he's ready to go, glad to be leaving this place in good hands.

Memaw (Dad's mom) suffers from memory loss, and we all grieve as she loses the parts of herself that we still have, memories of her and her strength. It is strange to think now that in some ways we remember her better than she remembers herself. Perhaps that's how it is meant to be. I'm working harder to remember her now that she forgets.

Pepaw (Dad's dad) cares for her in a way we never would have seen had she never gotten sick. I wonder also if that's the way it was meant to be. The depth of his love for her would have remained unknown even to him without being tested. Now we all know. I'm glad for that.

As I see things change I have a strange grief. It is as if I can't bear the loss of how things once were. At the same time the thought of going back to that time would mean losing something now. I feel this strange ache in my chest for something I can't explain. It's like nostalgia but something different. I'm hungry for some shadow of the past cast by something great in the future...or perhaps outside time altogether. It is a hopeful hurt, a hunger that nothing in this world can fulfill.

C.S. Lewis calls this ache "joy". I think he is right to call it that. It is that momentary longing for something beyond this world, a longing that itself is greater than any other fulfillment in this world. According to Lewis, desire is evidence that the object of desire exists. In other words, if there is in me a longing for something that nothing in this world desires, then my heart must be longing for something outside of this world.

My heart comes back to this "Joy" again and again. It is the thing that makes this world seem like mere shadow, that makes the next one seem like the real thing. It often shows up in inexplicable heartaches that last for days. Though, at times I have felt it with great intensity, coming out of nowhere for a brief moment. I believe it is God working in my heart to make sure I love the next world more than I love this one. After all, that's my real home.

Maybe its the change in season, maybe its the nostalgic trip, maybe its the fact that I just buried one of my friends and heroes to day. This joy is calling me out of comfort, beckoning me to look more for the things of heaven than for the things of this earth. Its calling me to love God more, to love people more, to celebrate reconciliation and redemption.

Strange to think the things I want from this world aren't really of this world.

What are some things that make you long for heaven?

"Christian" Labeling

Most of us have been through a “is this product ‘Christian’ or not” phase. I myself wore a W.W.J.D. bracelet instead of a secularized rope surf bracelet in Jr. High. This went on for nearly a year before I became disillusioned when the Christian fashion powers introduced F.R.O.G. I didn’t see how amphibious creatures had anything to do with my ability to walk in faith. Also, my small arms were running out of room for religious bracelets. Not to mention the fact that my conservative Christian school was in a clash of values because they didn’t allow guys to wear bracelets. Great debate was had.

Recently, I’ve heard a lot of debate about products and whether or not they are “Christian.” The guys who start these arguments have wardrobes made up solely of T-shirts purchased at Family Christian Stores that say things like “Lord’s Gym” and “Body Piercing Saved my Life.” They don’t listen to secular radio unless Switchfoot is playing, but they channel surf often just to see if they are on the hits station. They have indiscriminate taste when it comes to “Christian movies.” They are fans, regardless of production quality, acting or plot predictability. When it comes to classic American music, they couldn’t tell you who wrote American Pie or name a classic Bob Dylan song.

I’ve decided to challenge “Christian” labeling champions by confronting them for any product they use not bearing a Christian label. For example: “What is that?! Orbits gum! Haven’t you ever heard of Testa-mints?! I hope your breath is fresh on the fast train to hell!”

Or, I’ll present them with labeling conundrums. You know that your “faithbook” t-shirt was made by a godless pagan in China. Can your t-shirt really be Christian if it was made by a lost person? Can I buy a Marylyn Manson CD made by a Baptist factory worker?

Here is another good question: Can t-shirts and other Christian products make it into heaven? This is important for those of us who do not want to ascend into heaven naked when the rapture occurs. I mean, according to the Christian movie Left Behind our clothes will be on the floor when we are ascending. Since it is a Christian movie and subject to canonization at the next council of Nicaea (TBA), it must be true. I’d like to know if there is any possibility that my “GZUSLIVS” t-shirt from high school will make it with me.

I’ve heard that my wife’s Amy Grant t-shirt would have made it before 1991. Looks like now it’s going to be a lyric in a Larry Norman song about post-rapture attire. I’m sure the “Tribulation Force” will make Amy Grant t-shirts standard issue.

What’s your favorite piece of “Christian” gear?

"I love it when a plan comes together."

The A-Team was a classic show. Really, the only thing that show needed was Mr. T. But add crazy Murdock, Face, and the brilliant planning of John “Hannibal” Smith and you have a show that lives on forever. I’ll never forget that opening theme song as Mr. T used a chain saw to make a new door.

What was especially cool about the show was how four veteran misfits were able to perfectly come together in their imperfection to save the day. Whenever this happened their leader, Hannibal used to say “I love it when a plan comes together.” Sometimes I listen to the A-Team theme song just to get pumped up on the way to church. Secretly, on good days, I imagine myself in leather gloves with a cigar saying the classic line.

This week, I had a “Hannibal moment” as I watch Serve Elyria come together. The interesting thing is that unlike the A-Team, I can’t take the credit. Plans that I made are not working out in ways that work out with other plans that I made that are not working out. God is working things together. It is interesting how that works out. The plan always comes together, but never in a way that I can get the glory for it. He is Hannibal Smith watching everything together, and I’m “Mad Murdock” playing my part in the plan without having any idea what is actually going on.

The roles of B.A Baracus (Mr.T) and Face are still open if you want to sign up. See you at 9:00am in Ely Square.

Good Stories

You know you belong when you have good stories together. Tomorrow, I’m preaching on Belong as part of our series on evangelism called “Leading in the Adventure.”

Belonging makes me think of playing in the band, growing up in a wonderful family, and working at Open Door. I can point to just a few great life experiences like these when everything seemed to be in place. I was accepted and loved unconditionally. We had a common purpose and relationships of integrity. I’ll be talking about this more tomorrow, but I wanted to take some time today to share a few stories about my life on Dorm 5-2 at Liberty University. You know you belong when you have stories like:

Salt Spew. One night I needed $3 to pay off a loan, and God provided an opportunity for me to earn it through a dare. My friend Jenny had piled mountain of table salt and pepper on a tray and asked if anyone would eat it. Money poured in for the bravest/stupidest volunteer. 55 cents…then $1…then more….finally, the magic number was broken, and I raised my hand. Stepping to the tray with the ease of a fighter pilot, I swallowed four heaping spoonfuls of salt. And basked in the cheers of the cafeteria dwellers. “The mighty Dan has vanquished the sodium mountain of death! Great shall be his reign!” (This may be a slight exaggeration of their praises.) The subsequent events happened in less than a minute. “Water,” was all I could say. Mountain Dew was all anyone had. For a science experiment, try putting salt in Mtn. Dew some time. It is entertaining when it is happening somewhere other than your stomach. The cute nursing student next to me who had not been in school long enough to tell me that salt poisoning can be deadly asked me if I was ok. Not wanting to ruin my chances of going out with her by looking weak, I said I was fine. A second later, I realized I wasn’t. Another second after that, I realized that the cafeteria bathroom was a quarter of a mile away. Blahhhhh…three hurls of relief as dinner made its way back onto my tray. I raised my head from the third heave and erupted in laughter. Everyone but my dorm mates looked at me with eyes of terror. Unconditional love. I found out later that my good buddy Jeremy “Beanie” Heisey might have saved my life by giving me Mtn. Dew. Don’t eat too much salt kids.

Naked slip n’ slide. We had a tile floor that ran the length of the hall (about 150 ft. or more.) The guys filled a trash can with laundry detergent and water and drenched the last half of the hall. I was the RA at the time and could hear…thump, thump, thump, thump…..woooshhhhhhhhhhh…..crash! Then cheers of joy. This is what guys at Christian colleges do instead of getting drunk. I knew I should stop them, but I had taken part in the event earlier that day. I waited till I heard the RA from downstairs come to the door, then I rushed out and started yelling. “What are you guys doing!? Clean this up now! It’s ok Josh (downstairs RA), I’ve got it under control.” Later, I told the guys that the scolding was just for appearances. “We understand, Dan. We’ll clean it up right now.” They squeegeed the water down the stairs and flooded dorm 5-1. Ah, memories!

Suds over DeMoss. (I may or may not have been involved in this one.) One night we pooled all the laundry detergent from the dorm and poured it into the fountain in the center of campus. While this had been done before, it had not reached the epic proportions of the glorious 5-2 sudsing! The billows of foam could be seen from almost a mile away as the entire student body walked to chapel in awe of the spectacle. It was the stuff of legends. The parties involved have never been named. As Ronald Reagan once said, “You can accomplish much if you don’t care who gets the credit.”

Root Beer Float. One year, we built a float for homecoming parade…a 2 story root beer float that towered over our competition, dwarfing all other floats in its shadow. We did smite their ruin of our foes on the field of battle and great was their fall. We won $100 and had a Christmas party. Nobody messes with dorm 5-2.

Violence is not the answer…but it’s worth half credit. Disputes were usually resolved with gentle grace. However, there are more than 5 love languages and one of them is kicking the crap out of each other. We had a thing called shower death match. It was only used in the most extreme circumstances. One shower was turned on as cold as possible. The fight started on the hall and could only be ended through tap out, pass out, or being thrown into the icy rain of the shower. I’m pretty sure that the popularity of MMA Fighting can be traced back to 5-2 Shower Death Matches.

The night the dorm caught on fire…twice. The Lynchburg, VA Fire Department is a great establishment.

The “donkey show.” MTV had a show with a name that the guys at a Christian college were afraid to say. They were not, however fearful of attempting the stunt. We were visited more than once by emergency medical technicians for games like “Dan Love Bowling” (This game involved Dan Love, a skate board, and some trash cans), “Bush jumping,” “Ping-Pong Smash,” and “Trash Can Bobsledding.” Anything to impress the women of LU.

She is at Liberty to marry whom she wills (1 Corinthians 7:39b) The truth of this out of context passage brought about hours of discussion about LU’s abnormal ratio of beautiful women to men. There is something in the water there. I can’t explain it other than to say that for a 19 year old freshman, it is like entering the promise land. Accountability was in place to avoid the sin of Romans 1:25.

The Adventures of Bayou Jon. Jon wore boots and carried a large knife he called “The Blade of Retribution.” One night we found a snake slithering across the dorm floor. Hearing the commotion, Jon walked down the hall and into the room. Without a word, he pulled out the Blade of Retribution, cut off the head of the serpent, wiped the knife clean on his pants leg, put it away and left the room. “A country boy can survive.”

The night I shared my faith with my grandfather. It was spiritual emphasis week and the speaker had challenged us to do something about the person God had put on our hearts. I had prayed for my grandfather for 13 years, but had never spoken a word to him about my faith. My Spiritual Life Director (Dorm Pastor) prayed with me and I left the meeting to call my granddad. I remember calling him and hearing him confess Christ over the phone. When I stepped out of my dorm room, I saw my SLD, Spence Davis sitting on the floor praying for me. You don’t forget moments like that.

The night my grandmother died. Grandma had gone into surgery with a good chance of coming through. It was serious, but we all expected her to be fine. I remember getting calls throughout the day as things kept getting worse. They couldn’t stop the bleeding. The phone rang for that last time, and I picked it up knowing what I was going to hear. It was my Dorm 5-2 brothers that prayed with me that day, that carried me through that dark night. That’s brotherhood.

The day I married my wife. Not only did these guys celebrate with me. They stood beside me and committed to hold me accountable to my commitment for the rest of my life. Seriously, if I ever act like an idiot and do anything to hurt my wife, these are the guys she knows to call. They have been instructed to tie me to a tree and beat the crap out of me with the love of Christ. My faithfulness to my wife is motivated by my unending love for her, my desire to honor God and family, and the honor of our brotherhood.

Salvation. Men came to Christ and or made significant life-changing decisions every year on that dorm. In the midst of the rowdiness, I watched these imperfect men become passionate men of God. In this community of brothers we prayed for one another, confessed our sins, and led men to Christ. God moved.

In Shakespeare’s Henry V, the king speaks to his men, recounting the unity that comes only when trials are shared. He says:

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's day

I have a Band of Brothers. We have fought together, prayed together, laughed and cried together, served together and lived life together. For any one of them I would stand beside them and fight a host of foes. I know I belong because I have good stories with these men. Not just fun stories of college antics, but real stories of grace, trial and redemption. This is what it means to belong.

How about you? Who do you have good stories with?

Mime Condemnation

Do you think mimes can go to heaven?

That if you confess with your mouth, "Jesus is Lord," and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved. For it is with your heart that you believe and are justified, and it is with your mouth that you confess and are saved. --Romans 10:9

I knew I didn't like mimes.

Emergend?--Part2 "Apologetic Jiu Jitsu"

Reactive theology is a very dangerous thing. In a recent post, I dealt with the universal issue of self-oriented theology (our tendency to re-interpret the Bible to fit opinions and comfort). I used the emergent church as an example and a springboard to highlight this problem that we all have. Unfortunately the issue doesn’t end there. Let me tell you the rest of the story…

Jones ended his lecture with a Q and A (don’t know what I’m talking about? Click here). While I had hoped to see him speak in favor of Scriptural authority, Jones had brought a lot of clarity to our understanding of contemporary western thought and had not outright denied Scripture, Truth or any other core doctrine. This was a great opportunity to glean some wisdom about for ministering to postmodern youth. My hand went up; so did several others.

Several friendly and valuable questions were asked and answered. Some clearly disaggreed with Jones but were genuinely seeking clarity and understanding with Christian unity in mind. I was disapointed that I hadn’t been called on, but things were going well until a middle-aged “baptist curmudgeon” or “BC” (as I will call him) piped in.

Side note: Every Christian should learn Apologetic Jiu Jitsu. When you find you disaggree with someone, your first order of business should be to fiind common ground, some aggreed upon pre-supposition to work from. If both parties are operating from separate pre-suppositions, no one gets aywhere. It turns into a shouting match or a “look-cool-in-front-of-the-audience” match. Apologetic Jiu Jitsu channels the opinion of your “opponent” to convince him of yours. In most cases, this will allow you to either win your friend over or find that you already agree. If not, you can at least end the discussion on good terms with the possibility of ongoing discussion.

BC had apearantly never heard my advice on apologetic jiu jitsu. “Why do you heretics in the emergent church deny absolute truth?” he said. (Note: these were not his exact words. They were, however very cutting with the same implications).

My opportunity to gently and respectfully hear from Jones and bring us both closer to an orthodox view of scripture was sabotodged by a grumpy guy who wasn’t there to make friends. I aggree that Jones wasn’t taking a stand in the way I think he should, but a caustic frontal attack was not going to be effective.

Regardless of his intentions, BC’s tone made it seem like Christian unity and Christ-like love were the furthest thing from his mind. Unfortunately, Jone’s response was not particularly kind either. I can’t say that he was right, but I can’t say that I blame him. He was blindsided at his own lecture. In that situation, I would have either snapped back or use soft-spoken charm to make BC look like the bad guy. Jones managed to do both. The venom came out. Jones refered to a particular group of evangelicals as bordering on heresy. BC had already accused emergents of heresy. Both of these guys got pretty harsh. It was painful and unproductive.

Disclaimer: I believe false doctrine should be confronted (2 Timothy 3:16-17). I just believe it should be done with grace, love, tact and clarity (1 Cor. 13). Seek to understand and then say, “I just don’t think that lines up with what God says in [reference].” Any phrase that leads with, “Why don’t you…” or “you guys are…” doesn’t end well.

I remember sitting there with my hand in the air wishing for a chance to speak. My thesis dealt with the topic of epistemology as it relates to the revealed truth of God, I think I was qualified person to respond to the issue. However, my voice was never heard. In that room only the loudest, angriest (dare I say, least effective) voices were heard. It was very discouraging.

Lest you demonize Tony Jones, remember that he was interupted and accused of heresy in his own workshop. I would have been pretty upset as well. Given the circumstances, I think he kept it pretty civil. There was no yelling or name calling, just venom in the language and tone of both parties. It was clear that both had some hurt related to this topic.

Jones cut off the heated Q and A by saying that he had a plane to catch. He left abruptly. (Not his fault, by the way. He told us at the beginning his flight was early and that he couldn’t stay long after the lecture.)

I left the workshop with my heart on the floor. I had seen what reactive theology cause division. I was broken for the church. My heart was heavy and it was written all over my face. People who didn’t know me stopped to ask if I was ok. I spilled my heart out to a Youth for Christ guy I had met the day before. “The church keeps swinging like a pendulum,” I said. “One generation overcorrects to some extreme and then the next defines their theology in contrast. Someone reacts to that and we are back where we started.” We never seem to get it right. It feels like we are all just reacting to the last guy. Very few are looking at Scripture and genuinely seeking Truth.

Last week I made the statemetn that Emergents are “unwilling to surrender.” I wanted to clarify that this is not true of all of them. I think many are really seeking truth. However, I think in both camps of theology (maybe I should say “every camp”), there is a reactive faction, a group of people that identify their belief in contraversy. They react, distract and refuse to surrender to plain truth. We have these guys in the evangelical camp, and they have them in the emergent camp. We react and fight. All the while, we lose sight of the Great Commission.

So, I’ve listed a few guidelines for interacting with fellow believers who disagree:

Orient: Find a presupposition that you can both agree upon. Here are a few that may work:

o Scripture—inspired and innerrant

o Scripture—reliable historical document

o God—loving, all-powerful, just, etc.

Clarify: When someone disagrees with something you believe, ask them why. Find out if they have any Scripture to back it up. Take some time to read up and research before coming back.

Biblify: Find out what the Bible actually says about the issue.

Time: Don’t feel like you have to convince or be convinced in the moment. If you both care about truth, you should both be willing to allow one another time to look into it. If you really are right, your point can only be served with more research time.

Pray: Ask God to reveal the truth to you.

Relate: Preferably, build relationship before disagreeing. People tend to be more respectful when they know each other as people not as dissidents.

Return: Don’t flee the discussion . Keep coming back with questions and evidence. If you are clearly right, they eather conceid the point or hide from you (I’ve had this happen to me).

Tell us about a time when you changed a belief after a discussion about it?

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