Jesus Bobbers

The other night I was in a very formal worship service. There was incense, bells, organs, guitars, chanting, formal prayers, genuflecting, and even spontaneous prayers from people all around me. It was quite an experience. 

The older couple next to me, however, were quite distracting indeed. Every time the Lord’s Name was mentioned, they bobbed downward in a robotic fashion and then up again - not unlike those little plastic yellow birds that bob back and forth in the back of late model Buicks. I tried to block them out but the Name of Jesus is said a LOT in the service and soon I resigned myself to the dismal fact: I was predestined to be humiliated by the Jesus Bobbers next to me.

Then came the verse in my heart:  “At the name of Jesus every knee should bow, 

in heaven and on earth and under the earth.” (Philippians 2:10, Italics Mine) With that as my new plumb-line their bobbing became completely normal, even justified. In fact, by the end of the service we had the whole pew bobbing back and forth. We were all just practicing for that great and glorious Day!

Guess it’s not too early to start now.

Reaching into the Soup

It's an interesting phenomenon.

God calls us from our life of darkness and brings us into his marvelous light. He heals us, empowers us, sets our feet on the paths of sanctification, and then sends us right back into the same places we were redeemed from - this time as people no longer swayed by those who sought to kill or destroy us but as mini-shepherds, gently leading those he has called from their darkness.

Some need to stay out of Egypt. For them, the powers of the gods yield too much power. Most of us are called to get back in the soup, so to speak. Not to continue in the death march of debauchery. But to walk along side with those parading to hell, offering love and another Parade route to those who know no better.

"Go, return to Egypt," the Lord told Moses. "For all the men who sought your life are dead." (Exodus 4:19, Septuagint)

Of course wisdom needs to be used in all aspects of life. Yet if we allow ourselves to be ruled by the same powers that ruled us before our conversion we are no better than idolators, compromising both the Scriptures and the power of God.

Go! Who knows their culture more than you do? Who knows the desperateness of their hearts more than you? You have been there and can speak life into the place - just as someone else spoke life to you when you were in that place. Go! Return in the power of the resurrection. Love them. Listen to them. Be about worshipping your God around them.

To be sure, you will be offended. You will hear words you long forgot. You will see behavior you've only heard about in popular movies. All the same, God in you is big enough for it. He sees this stuff everyday. 

Instruments of the Ordinary

What is your ordinary tool of trade - that which you use either in your career, hobby, or interest? Is is a calculator? A guitar? A fishing rod? For Moses it was a staff. He was a shepherd. 

When God called Moses he did not give him a new instrument of calling. He did not say to Moses, "For the past forty years you have had this staff and it is worthless to me. I want to give you a calculator, through which you will lead Israel out of bondage." The trajectory of Moses' life was matched with God's Call on his life. It was a shoe-in. The shepherd's staff - a part of Moses' daily ordinary life - became the agent through which God's incarnational Presence became real. Our calculators, guitars, or fishing rods have the ability to do great things for the Lord, as live into his Call for our us. 

This November we will trace the footsteps of Moses and cover about 40 years of his life in the span of a few days. We will squint our eyes at the same sun he squinted at, we will taste and grit our teeth around the same desert sand the same desert sand he tasted, we will gaze at the same stars he gazed at, we will tabernacle in the same places he tabernacled at, and we will climb the same mountain he climbed - the very place where the instrument of his ordinary became the lightening rod of God's will.

Come, participate, and bless us with your presence!

Guilt-Free Lines in the Sand

Much of our time is spent making peace. We want everyone to be happy. We don't want to rock the boat. After all, we say, Jesus was a peacemaker. Yet those who wish to lead a Godly life will rock the boat, they will infuriate others, and they will disappoint those closest to them.

Jesus drew lines in the sand - howbeit he did it for the sake of a greater cause, the Pearl of Great Price, obedience to his call and the Father's purposes on his life. He could have healed more, preached more, taught more; he could have stayed in villages for weeks at a time - for you know, he always left unmet needs behind him as he followed the Will for his life. He did this because of his love for them.

Demons and the will of men were the two agents that most often stood in the way of his ministry. He confronted our enemy often - commanding them not to speak for "they knew who he was" and thus would interfere with his Father's Plan. He rebuked the enemy in those he loved best. To Peter he once said, "Get behind me satan." When his disciples met him after a night of prayer and scolded him for ignoring the crowds... his reply? Let's go to another town. There's work to do there.

Ultimately his entire life was a decisive response to a higher Call - a Call wherein he was okay with disappointing others, refusing to let satan get in the way, and not always pleasing others. For the sake of Love he was empowered to draw guilt-free lines in the sand.

These were not random lines. They were lines defining the parameter of the ministry of God in his life. He loved greatly. He guarded what was entrusted to him with an often misunderstood passion. But they got it in the end. The fruit of his obedience saved their very souls.

O God, forgive me for succumbing to the temptations of compromise and people pleasing. Heal that within me which seeks affirmation from anything, or anyone, but you. And then move me on in love, without guilt, knowing that the eternal fruit of obedience is far sweeter than anything which compromises your plan for me. In Christ's Name. Amen.

The Robbers

When they arrived back in Jerusalem, Jesus entered the Temple and began to drive out the people buying and selling animals for sacrifices. He knocked over the tables of the money changers and the chairs of those selling doves, and he stopped everyone from using the Temple as a marketplace. He said to them,“The Scriptures declare, ‘My Temple will be called a house of prayer for all nations,’ but you have turned it into a den of thieves.” Mark 11:15-17


The soul is a sanctuary, created in the image of God. It is sacred, holy, a precious  place where sandals are removed and candles are lit. It is a miniature place of meeting, a very embassy of heaven itself.


God's love is extravagant for us. Of all the places in the universe he has chosen our soul as the meeting ground for Communion. Adam and Eve had their Garden. Abraham had his Canopy. Moses had his Mountain. John had his Jordan. John the Apostle had his Island. This is yours; your soul. Each day he waits for you to awake so he can walk with you in the cool of your Garden and commune with you, with ease, grace, and keen interest. Souls are the places of his intervention. They are where he is.


For whatever reason, it happens. Robbers force there way onto this holy ground. Perhaps they come in the guise of aides - assistants in our communion with God. They may be books, trends; they may be formulas, 10 Steps to Getting Closer to God. However it happens, our souls become cluttered with these things. Sometimes it is so difficult navigating through the forest of these things that, by the time we arrive at the honest, pure, and simple time with God we are exhausted, and in dire need of resurrection.


We may not see it as such but these are robbers. They rob us of our energy. They rob us of our time. They - though many times good - create barriers, promote procrastination, and sidetrack us from the thing we had all along, hearts to recognize and meet him in the cool of the Day. If not for Jesus clearing our temples of these robbers - they have the hellish potential to "fall us short"  of the Original Communion.


O Grave Robber
You have robbed me from my hell
And yet I am robbed of your beauty
I have need to be robbed once again


Clear the issues of my heart
With the passion of your jelous Flame
Until nothing remains
Ecxept the tender soil under my feet 
Unhindered by vines and obstacles that creep along the Way
And be with me 
Again
In the cool of the afternoon of the Garden 

The Father of My Such and Such

Once there was a young boy who never had a father. Many times (usually after a great feast with leftovers spread all about his silver plate) he would ask his mother, uncles, and aunts to describe his father to him.

"Oh," they would say. "He is like 'such and such' and loves 'such and such' and looks like 'such and such.'" They were very positive in their descriptions of the boys father. And when he tucked himself into bed each night he would often imagine what it would be like to meet the father of the 'such and such.'

The boy grew into a man. He rode horses, he herded sheep. He dealt with the villagers in great adventures of commerce. He sailed seas. Later in life he married, had a family, and taught his children all about his father who was like 'such and such' and loved 'such and such' and looked like 'such and such.' They too, when they nestled in their beds, often imagined what it would be like to meet the father of the 'such and such.'

One day, when he was quite ill but not quite ready to ascend to heaven, there came a knock at the door. Standing there in the early evening fog was a delightfully older gentleman with rosy cheeks and warmth in his face. He was kindly invited to hang his scarf on the hook and sit in a great wooden rocker before the crackling fire in the stone fireplace. They spend hours there, sitting across from one another. They drank tea, they laughed, and listened to each-other intently and shared things hey had never before shared with anyone else in the world. It all happened there, as the flickering flames of the fire reflected across their wide-eyed faces.

Before long the delightfully older gentleman rose to his feet, wrapped his scarf about his neck, and headed for the door. They shook hands and nodded heads before parting. As the delightfully older gentleman disappeared into the back fog the owner of the house - still quite ill and now ready to ascend to heaven - came to realize a magical strength had returned to his feeble frame. He felt stronger, healthier, and mysteriously peaceful as a result of the visit - yet he knew not why.

"What was it about that man?" he wondered as he slid into his bed. "He was unlike anyone I've ever met. He was familiar to me, yet I know I have never laid eyes upon him and doubt I shall ever see him again."

He reached for the lamp and dimmed the sanctuary twilight. Later, and still pondering who the visitor was - his spirit rose and passed the Great River, where he found himself standing aside the Good Shepherd. The Good Shepherd cared for him,  moistened his wounds in balm, and raised him to his shoulders where he saw all things, and knew all things, there in peace and safety. He remained there, snugged around the neck of the Good Shepherd, for a very long time.

One particular day he pushed himself close to the Good Shepherd's ear. "Tell me, my Father, you are such a Good Shepherd. Why do you only choose to share yourself with those on this side of the Great River? I am certain others would flock to you if you were to do otherwise."

"Oh, but I have been known," spoke the Good Shepherd. "My love, my affection, my healing and guidance is mingled throughout both worlds - here and on the other side. I have even been with you - remember, that foggy night, when we laughed and listened and drank tea?"

At once the old man (who was now a young man again) became silent. He was saddened and lamented that he had not recognized his father, though he had spend an entire evening with him.

"Why hadn't  he recognized him? Why hadn't he known such wondrous laughter and such loving mannerisms to be at the heart of his father?" (I dare not tell you how long these questions haunted the once old man, who was now a young man again, riding high atop the shoulders of the Great Shepherd. But it was a very long time.)

Then one day it came to him:

You see, the whole of his life he had been told by his mother, his uncles and his aunts that his father was like 'such and such' and that he loved 'such and such' and that he looked like 'such and such' and, thus, he had expected him to be like 'such and such,' to love 'such and such' and to look like 'such and such.' Thus, his father (howbeit quite innocently, I might add) became the image of somebody else's 'such and such.'

That's why, when the delightfully older gentleman with rosy cheeks and warmth in his face appeared at his door and listened and loved him as any fine person would do with great personality and wisdom that night when the flickering flames danced across their wide-eyed faces; he couldn't help himself.

For, although the gentleman sitting before him was the manner of a man he yearned for as a father, he himself thought, "This cannot my father. For he has little to do with the description of my 'such and such.'"

And, thus, he was unable to recognize his father as he truly was.