"Now, With God's Help, I Shall Become Myself" ~ Soren Kierkegaard

Many people breathing, but not many people living. Crowds laughing, but not many happy. Stadiums cheering, but few champions. Car after car flying down the highway but few inhabitants within consciously aware of any significant destination other than geographic.

The promise of authentic Christianity is the reversal of this night of the living dead. Christ shouts through the centuries, "I have come that they might have life, and that more abundantly!". His guarantee for that Life, however, became the most counterintuitive act of all history; the crucifixion.

"Butcher Me! Ravage My body with your most efficient rakes of hate and after you do your bloody best, stake Me to a tree and hang Me out to dry. With your most important governmental prowess, seal My carcass in a dank death chamber. I will allow you 3 days to enjoy your arrogance......and then, I swear to you out of My Father's integrity, I will reject your offer to stay dead and explode up out of the dirt! A new kind of Life will be the harvest of your deed."

Jesus told His befuddled huddle of 12 that He would be butchered but live again. He told them straight out, that because He would Live again, they, and we too, would Live. Can you see their deaf and dumb faces nodding an oblivious affirmation? That Gomer Pyle, mouth hanging open, drool dripping "Yes sir, Sergeant" look? More importantly, do you see our very same obtuse response? We too, are a befuddled huddle.

That is, until somebody, anybody jumps out of the crowds and stadiums and parades to nowhere and screams, "Now, with God's help, I shall LIVE and become myself!" Christ awaits a people in every generation whose honest hunger outweighs the sedatives of their culture. His Resurrection, for them is far more than a line in their doctrinal pledge of allegiance. His resurrection is the power to finally, by the grace of God, become my truest, real self.

Hallelujah, Christ is Risen! And, hallelujah, SO AM I!

Gay, Straight, Red State, Blue State, War, Peace, Blah, Blah, Blah

I feel so left out. I'm not energized enough about any polar extreme that I feel compelled to protest for or against anything. In fact, the last protest gathering that interested me was held in Washington D.C. when Martin Luther King Jr. preached his immortal "I Have A Dream" prophetic Word. Some days I wonder if I am the only Christian alive that just is not interested in either side of most current protests. What side you ask? Pick a side, any side; I'm not on any of the protester's sides.

Gay marriage? I'm just busy keeping my straight marriage healthy, counseling other straight marriages so they stay healthy, meeting with straight couples who are planning on getting married and trying to spread as much love and healing on lonely singles as I can to keep them on the path of good mental health. I must be too apathetic about the greater cultural war to get involved in the politics of gay marriage.

The last time I checked, straight marriage is in a train load of trouble, all by itself. There's at least a 50% failure rate going on inside and outside the church. So, for now, I am going to leave the gay marriage argument up to all the smart people who are protesting on both sides of that issue so I can concentrate my simple tiny brain on what's going on right in front of me. Jesus warned me that the speck I see in someone else's eye might just be the plank stuck in my eye.

Pro-Choice? Pro-Life? I am completely pro-life; but for the "life" of me I just cannot imagine parading with signs, signing petitions or even putting bumper stickers on my car. I am spending my "pro-life" energies on ministering to people who believe that after they were born their dysfunctional parents aborted them. Teens and men and women whose fathers and mothers never mentored them. Adult children still looking for parental support and acceptance. I simply don't have time to go to the state capital to find a TV camera that will capture my indignation for the evening news and my 15 minutes of fame.

Oh, and by the way; in my 33 years of pastoring I have wept with many young ladies who have called me for help with the heart breaking "decision" to make about a surprise pregnancy. AND....with every one of them, since abortion became legal, the pressure they felt to end the life of their baby was coming from a man in their life. A boyfriend, husband and yes, even their fathers who were pushing them toward.....are you ready for this......the "woman's right" to a choice. As a result, I view abortion as more a sick and happy relief for some proud, arrogant, irresponsible sperm donor boyfriend/husband or shallow shaming father. Go to a protest at an abortion clinic? Not for me. I'd rather work out at a local gym for a few months so that I could adequately beat the crap out of few males (not men) who have broken too many hearts. Yes, I said crap.

Now what will happen is that someone will protest me writing the word "crap" in my blog. HEY! Maybe this will solve my problem of feeling left out. Yes....that's the ticket! Now I can be part of the whole protesting thing by being the object of a protest! Cool! That beats the crap out of being a protester!

Hello. My Name is Truth

Truth will wreck you. It will set you right side up is an upside down world. Truth will strip you of every selfish notion devised by your past, your pains, your problems, your personality, your preferences, your possesiveness, your poverty, your personality, your prosperity, your pity, your power, your perfectionism, your performance, your peers, your paralysis, your predespositions, your prudishness, your put-ons, your papa and your paranoia.

Truth will meet you head-on with no intention of slowing down or dodging you. It's reality will be like headlights frozen on high-beam bearing down on you in it's own lane, challenging you to awaken to the reality that you are in the wrong lane. As a matter of fact, Truth won't even "honk". That sound you hear is your adrenalized heart-beating.

Truth, while not forgiving in itself, will lead you to forgiveness. Truth is a living power, a driving rain storm, a relentless blizzard and a sunshine drenched perfect day. Jesus said, "I AM the Truth....". Truth walks. Truth talks. Truth laughs. Truth weeps. Truth bleeds. Truth will die with every intention of living larger later.

Truth will set you free, not in spite of these things, but BECAUSE of these things. Truth heals us when we accept the stark fact that we don't know it. Truth delivers us when we crawl across the gravel of life, reach our bleeding fingers toward its hem and snatch it hard to our weeping face and say in our heart, "If I can just touch the edge of Truth I will be free".

New Hearts for Stones

I am preaching a lenten sermon series entitled, "New Hearts for Stones". The content is shattering me. It is literally haunting my thoughts and dreams. I am confident I am reaching at least one person with a Word from God.........me!

The essence is rooted in several promises throughout the scriptures that promise God's longing to dig out of our chests the hearts of stone and replace them with new hearts of soft flesh. I won't take the time or space for references here. Get a concordance and simply look up "heart" and start reading. The sheer volume of God's focus on the matter of "heart" will speak for itself. What is crystal clear to me from the Spirit's Voice in all of this is that a cold stone heart is more offensive to God than any, and yes, I mean any, other sin we churchoids (look up the suffixe "-oid") protest.

Author, Anne Lamott says, "You can safely assume you've created God in your own image when it turns out that God hates all the same people you do." That's the heart of stone. Now, without me doing your work for you, can you identify the possibility of that stone in your chest? If so, you've got a promise to claim. God wants to give you a new heart.

Yesterday I was reading about a churchoid group that is criss-crossing the nation to go to the funerals of military service men and women killed in action. Their one and only purpose is to hold signs and yell at the funeral attendees the content of their stone hearts. "God killed your loved one to punish America for its sins!" "God is America's Terrorist!" Those are the nicest, and only quotes I'll print in my blog! Minnesota is studying legislation to put this churchoid group at a "safe" distance from any funeral held in the state. As far as I am concerned, Wyoming would not be a "safe" distance. I did find it enlightening to read that one mother of a slain soldier said, "My son fought for, and died for freedom of speech....if they want to stand out there at my son's funeral...they have every right to be there."

My simple point for this simple blog is this: the only solution is for each of us, one by one, claiming God's promise for a new heart. I cannot carpet the world, but I can put on a pair of shoes. I cannot stop people pretending to be the church from advertising their dead stone hearts, but I can claim a soft real heart for myself. And maybe, just maybe, it will be so real for me, that I can start a revolution of heart.

That is why I pastor. That is why I preach. New hearts anyone?

Prayers I've Never Prayed

I have several book titles rattling around inside of my mind. Friends and family tell me I should be careful about saying them out loud because somebody is likely to steal the title, write the book and make a bunch of money. Well, today's blog is me not being careful. In fact, the title is one of those book titles. The difference is the book would have to be written under an assumed name to protect the innocent, the ignorant and the outright stupid. All three of which might just be me.

Have you ever gone to a "prayer meeting" and sat there listening to public prayers and wondered, "Who are we really talking to here?". When the prayer goes something like, "Dear Lord, You see the need of Brother Jones. He is in the St. Dude's Hospital with severe colon seizures"; Who are we really talking to? Wasn't that just a 2-fer moment where we snuck an announcement into the prayer? Or better yet, how about the "Prayer Breakfasts" where we talk about prayer for an hour and offer up 3 minutes of praying to bless the food?

All that aside, my frustration as a pastor is that I have way too much "rascal-randy" running around inside me when I see certain situations, know too much about what's really happening and then have somebody ask, "Pastor; would you just lead us in prayer about this?" (On a side note: have you noticed how it is the nice Christian thing to say the word, "just" in every sentence? JUST pray.....JUST trust the Lord....JUST do your best.....I'm JUST so concerned?) Anyway, rascal randy runs up into my mind and Pastor Randy has to make a decision.....(by the way, in my internal theater, r.r. looks and sounds like Bugs Bunny and P.R. looks and sounds like Elmer Fud). Got the picture?

Do I let r.r. pray? "Dear Lord. You see the incredibly short sighted decisions these people have made. How, when faced with self-preservation versus sacrifice, they have chosen to do what they want without bothering to ask You what You might want. Now that they are backed into a corner, they need You to bail them out. Please ignore the obvious patterns of bad choices they make. Please step aside from Your Holy Mental Health and be a gigantic codependent Daddy and clean up their mess with the least amount of inconvenience to them so that within 90 days of this time, we will be right back where we started. Amen" (carrot chewing noises followed by a long silence).

Funeral prayers by r.r. might clear the room. "O Lord! This guy was such a jerk! Some folks are here today just to make sure he's gone!" Wedding prayers might get r.r. killed. "Almighty God. This couple is clueless. They're saying 'I do' when they should be saying, 'I duh'." And most of what r.r. would pray would simply get P.R. run out of town and forced into the federal witness protection program in another state. Christians rival the Mafia when they're mad.

That's why prayers are NOT 2-fers where we sneak announcements and gossip into the mix. "Prayer Breakfasts" should be called "Let's Get Together and Eat Too Much and Laugh Alot and Pray Short Prayers at the Beginning and the End Meetings".

Thankfully, P.R. has won my internal debate with r.r. for who gets to pray out loud."Just" please pray for me that I won't let r.r. accidently win someday, open my eyes and look at a room full of church folks loading pistols, sharpening knives and thumping baseball bats in the palms of their hands. At which point, r.r. and P.R, better have legs like Bugs Bunny that spin like blurring wheels and make that ricochet sound running out stage left.

When God Attacks

One night, last October I was getting ready to speak at a Saturday night youth rally in the Twin Cities. The band was spiritually and authentically on fire with true and pure worship. I was a wonderful wreck trying to blink through my tears to keep eye contact with the worship leader so I would know when it was my time to preach. I suddenly and without any personal intention on my part, was seeing a vision. If that makes you nervous, I cannot help you. Its true, its lovely and it happened.

I saw a gigantic icy white lion. Not C.S. Lewis' Lion. To date, I still haven't seen the movie, and besides, this vision happened before the fanfare or even the ads. The lion was ravenous, glorious and lasered in on me. All at once I heard God's Voice saying to me, "Randy, I want to attack your soul!" I do not know how loud I spoke back, but I do know I responded immediately by saying, "Please, come and attack me, now!" The lion blurred directly at my face as I threw my arms wide open. When he came upon me I was bathed in his whiteness. When the icy colored fog lifted, I looked in my lap. The lion became an enormous, delicate Lamb. I shared the experience that night and the next morning, at my home church.

Now fast forward 3 months to last week. One of our assistant pastors, Steve, came to me with a book in hand and said, "Pastor, look at the part I highlighted". Here is what I read: "I will not leave you alone. You are mine. I know each of my sheep by name. You belong to Me. If you think I am finished with you, if you think I am a small god that you can keep at a safe distance, I will pounce upon you like a roaring lion, tear you to pieces, rip you to shreds, and break every bone in your body. Then I will mend you, cradle you in my arms, and kiss you tenderly." Brennan Manning, "Lion and Lamb".

I am currently basking in this Attack. Outside of God's ravening brillance I can faintly hear and see the hell that hates God's work in me. Just beyond the glory of God's hunger for me I am also vaguely aware of people who don't understand or like what they see God doing to me. Unfortunately for them, they are too terrified to step into the fray to "rescue" me. I say "unfortunately for them" because if they understood this Attack, they would be the rescued and not the rescuers.

An Old Testament man named Jacob wrestled with God and walked funny for the rest of his life. I expect as a New Testament man, I will come out of this Attack a dancing fool, for the Lamb of God. WATCH ME! If I've said that once in the past 6 months, I've said it a hundred times. WATCH ME!

Soapbox Warrior

A lonely figure wanders to a busy street corner and throws a wooden crate down with a crash. His features are striking, with long-ish gray hair and piercing dark eyes. There is nothing noteworthy of his attire, except to say that it is clean, pressed and simple. With his box in place, he steps upon it and slowly draws a small black book from the back pocket of his jeans. Most people walking by seem determined not to notice the unusual actions of this man who is making it clear that he will soon be attempting to gain a great deal of attention.

The pages of the small black book are worn, even ragged and his eager search through the book makes it clear why it is in such an abused condition. Suddenly, he sees in the tattered pages what he longed to see, and with a long drawn breath he sharply exhales the words, "Repent, for the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand! Make ready the way of the Lord, make His paths straight!" A few people walking by are startled by the break in the voiceless silence, still others are visibly upset at the intrusive effort made by this stranger. However, two and three, now five and six people inquisitively stop to listen, sensing in the Voice a mysterious distant call from somewhere strangely familiar yet sadly undefined.

A large vein swells on the side of this man's neck with every passionate word he speaks. It would appear that this vein would burst from the weight of the Words it is pushing into the air of this busy street corner. Still, most passersby want nothing to do with this odd demonstration; they have no interest in the rantings of this Voice. But to the half dozen who have stopped, there is a greater urgency in the content of these Words than there was just moments ago in their harried and hurried footsteps. Like the swollen vein in his neck, their hearts are beginning to swell from the passion of the Words.

The echoes off nearby building walls naturally amplify the Voice above the sound of cars and trucks as he cries out, "We live in a world gone mad with self-promotion, indulgence and ego. Men find pleasure from their power over a girl. Women seek revenge on males through harsh manners and crude gestures. Babies are torn from the last safe haven on earth by forcepts and suction and children, confused by the insanity, mistakenly act out their rage by brutalizing their peers. Laws and government are powerless to heal. Self-important religious bigotry only parades itself as masters of the obvious. There is only one answer! A new heart! And only the God Who lovingly fashioned you in the secret place of His almightiness can give you that new heart. Today, let Him slip His invisible Hand into your chest. Let Him crush your heart of stone into the powder from which He will then with gentle genius recreate a heart of soft infant like quality. From that new heart will beat a new rythmn of Life. Birds will sing symphonies without beginning or end. The rain will wash your face, the sun will dry your tears, the moon will dance through the night sky and draw from your eyes a wonder and awe for which you long. Your sins, which stain you like a warrior of hate, will be displaced and removed so that the only thing from this day forward that you will wish to fight will be the old self you once treasured and despised. Come this day to Jesus, for He is your God."

Now, the six who were stopped by a mysterious Power, are bowing on a sidewalk, concrete altar. Their shoulders quiver from the release of long held emotions. A wide section of this street corner has been allowed to this tiny cathedral gathering as pedestrians pretend to ignore what is all too obvious. The man from the crate steps down and touches each bowed figure with kindness that seems foriegn to the volume of his just finished speech. One by one, those who have been bowed stand tall and look at each other as though they have just each one arrived home from a far away place. They are inexplicably changed. So too will the world around them be changed as they go home and find small planks of wood, nails and a hammer with which to create their own wooden crate.

Extreme Makeover; The Church Edition

I'm a sucker for the ABC television broadcast, "Extreme Makeover; The Home Edition". It's a quasi-reality show where they pick a deserving family whose house is in some kind of disrepair, rot, mold infestation or just plain ugly condition of some kind. They plow the shack to the ground and build a palace in its place.

The families are usually made up of adoptive/foster parents, single moms or dads with huge herds of kids and a wide variety of physically challenged adults and or kids. They're sent away for a free vacation during the house transformation and the show ends with the family wisked back for the surprise unveiling. ABC intentionally aims at weeping saps like me who are given to watch these shows, cry and bask in the glow of all the warm fuzzies....so sue me.

My point in bringing this up is that it has given me a great idea for another reality show; "Extreme Makeover; The Church Edition". Like the Home Edition, a group of design experts could descend on an unsuspecting ministry and wake them up with a guy on a bullhorn in the front yard bringing the wonderful surprise to light. Free vacation! Brand new ministry!

I can see it now; "Hey! Pat Robertson! Wake up! It's the Extreme Makeover team! We are here to take you to the West Bank, Israel, where you will spend the next 90 days living with Palestinian Christians with a roll of duct tape around your mouth. Having your mouth sealed might save your life, and if it does, it will also give you a rare opportunity to listen to people whose point of view is radically different from yours. Once you are done there, you will be helicoptered to Jerusalem to minister to Ariel Sharon and his family....the duct tape will remain on."

Or, "JJJJJerrrrryyyy Falwell! Come on out....we have an jetliner fueled and ready to fly you to Calcutta, India where you will take Mother Teresa's place. For 90 days you will walk the mean streets of Calcutta without a single TV camera to record your actions or any body guards or PR handlers to protect you. You will live her vow of poverty and be forced to love the most unlovable people on the planet. When you are done there, we will fly you back to the USA....to the place you once said was ripe for the judgement of God and deserved a killer hurricane...... New Orleans! Once there, we will assign you to an inner city church where you will spend an additional 90 days pastoring a massively wounded flock. No cameras, no handlers. Just you and God looking into the eyes of people hungry for answers and help."

Oh no....I feel a lump in my throat....I have to stop now.....I'm such a sap.....

God -- The Holy Spirit

The Holy Spirit is God. God is the Holy Spirit.

Do we believe that? Do we wrap our faith around that? Are we walking this earth with that reality beating in our chest? Something in me says that if we did, we Christians would be massively different than we are and the truest character of God would be far more accurately advertised. Something else in me shouts that the church of 2006 needs an extreme makeover, the likes of which is only possible if God, the Holy Spirit does the making over.

Not clever church growth "experts" who have not paid a bloody price for laying down their lives for a people in the inner city or the "outer city" middle of no where. Not the touchy feely sensitive to the seeker terrified of the truth hired hand pastors secretly proud of the number of sheep they've stolen by scratching where those sheep itch instead of healing the actual brokenness of their spirits. Not "pop-theology" end times magicians playing with Bible verses like David Copperfield pretending to saw a pretty lady in half. Where, by the way, the only thing sawn to pieces is the precious Word of God.

Not a smoke and mirrors change; but a real make over by the power of God in the Person of the Holy Spirit raging through today's Temple the way Jesus did in the Temple of His day. With a whip lashing the backs of temple "professionals" and throwing the tables of their ill-gotten cash around like some kind of internal tornado was roaring through the house. Today's Temple is boldly declared to be the Temple of the Holy Spirit, the Body of Christ, the Church, the people of God.

Come Holy Spirit! Be God Almighty in me, and the church that I pastor. Come ruthlessly to heal every layer of the wreckage of humanity that intrudes in what should be the beauty of the Bride of Christ. Come Holy Spirit and fearlessly rebuke Satan in every one of us the way Jesus did when Peter was too dumb to know the difference between the things of God and his own "stuff". Come Holy Spirit and tell us that we don't know what spirit we are of when we, like Jesus' own 12 disciples, with judgemental religious thinking were eagar to call fire down on "bad people".

Come Holy Spirit! We repent for making You God Jr. We repent for making you the author of parlor tricks that entertain only our perverse curiousity. We repent for boxing You in, pouring water on Your Fire, telling You how to pray instead of letting You pray the ragged, raw and real passions of Your needs. Come Holy Spirit, in nothing less than the full majesty of God in us, to make Jesus Christ more Lord in and through us than You have ever been allowed.

Hell; NO!

I love my son, Jonathan. Like too many fathers and sons, we have not always gotten along as well as we would like, but we have both grown through the pains of the past. Our love and mutual respect for each other these days is one of the greatest pleasures of my life. He now lives a few hours away, so whenever he has the chance to spend some time at home, it brightens my calendar. Last weekend was one of those bright pleasures.

He reads this blog (hi son!) and stays in touch with as much of my preaching as he can, so he generally knows where I have my spiritual sights aimed. Saturday, he said he saw a t-shirt advertised in a catalog that made him think of my current, "No Name Sermon Series". The shirt says something like this; Religion is for people who are afraid of hell. Spirituality is for people who have already been there." Amen.

I have often said that too many people already live in hell on earth. For any thoughtful Christian to use that afterlife threat as a means to witness is just ludicrous to me. In fact, I have encountered quite a few people down through the years who have told me that they would prefer hell over heaven if going to heaven meant that they would have to hang out (forever!)with some of the Christians they know. But, more seriously, too many lives are already suffering hellish torture, right here, right now. Trying to scare people with more punishment is like offering a drowning man a glass of water.

Another side of this whole matter is that the most rich and real Christians I know are people who have been delivered out of their personal hell and into the Kingdom of Heaven, right here, right now. Hell? Been there, done that. Authentic Christian Spirituality? Ahhhhhh.....abundant dynamic, animated and thoroughly living!

Unfortunately, there are church people who still think that we have to get the word out about hell! "Turn or Burn!" Truly, it is the ultimate blackmail message for some folks. And when you look closely at them, you will see the worst that "religion" has to offer: judgementalism, bigotry and hatred for a world that "God so loved". The truth is, most of these sad-sacks are just plain scared to death, not just of hell, but of life and living.

Jesus had an altogether different message. He came proclaiming a Kingdom of Life full of Spiritual reality for those who were hungry and thirsty. In fact, He joyously made this offer to the poor, the broken hearted, the prisoner and the outcast as a right here, right now Life, that, as a bonus, would stretch out for eternity. The only thing that sounded like a "turn or burn" message that came from Jesus was for the pompous religious brood of His day. The same is true today.

Those of you who know me, know this quote; "RUN FROM RELIGION AND FALL IN LOVE WITH JESUS!" Yet another t-shirt waiting to be sold....

Thank you Jonathan.....I love you, son.

I'm Dreaming....

With just a pinch of imagination, I can hear Bing crooning "I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, on my biological iPod. The timeless popularity of this song is testament of the season's brimming capacity to inspire us to dream and I absolutely love it. But this season finds me already dreaming. Come take a short written walk with me and let me share some of my dreams.

I'm dreaming of families genuinely loving each other. Tenderly, forgiving each other day by day with little or no memory of past wrongs. Homes warm and alive with time for each other. I'm dreaming...

I'm dreaming of uncommon courtesies given and taken from stranger to stranger on highways, sidewalks, parking lots, stores, schools and businesses. People saying, "excuse me", "after you", I'm sorry; please forgive me", with all the authenticity imaginable. I'm dreaming...

I'm dreaming of hearing and saying, "Merry Christmas" without thinking of law suits, political correctness and the "war" on Christmas. I'm dreaming of "peace on earth, good will to all" and "joy to the world". Call me crazy, but aren't we ALL missing the point if we focus on our differences and sensitivities? I'm dreaming of fair play, thick skins, kind hearts, deference to those of difference, tolerance for minorities and longsuffering for the majority. I'm dreaming...

I'm dreaming of a church. Not my church or your church but the wider scope of the Body of Christ. I'm dreaming of that church loving each other profoundly and without without political persuasion or competition. I'm dreaming of that church loving the world the same way God loved the world and gave His only Son. I'm dreaming of that church, nationwide, celebrating Christmas so majestically, so purely, so thoroughly, so expansively that we hardly notice where we cannot celebrate Christmas.

I'm dreaming that some of you reading this are dreaming the same thing.

Who is Scrooging Who Now?

Sometimes I wonder about me. Read on and maybe you too, will wonder about me.

Over the past several years we have all witnessed the battle lines drawn over the religious meaning of Christmas. I have been very bold in my own little way of celebrating Christmas in the face of the secular "Scrooges" who fight manger scenes on public property, Christmas Carols in public schools and merchants who establish inane policies about saying, "happy holidays" on one hand while they love lapping up the profits they make from "Christmas" sales. But this year something new has arrived on the battleground. And as disturbing as these other issues are, this new "Scrooge" is much more bothersome to me. Remember now, I wonder about me in all of this, too.

The new "Scrooge" is us. Yep, that's right, I believe we have become what we hate. In our effort to hold on to the meaning of Christmas, we have squeezed it so tight, I fear we are killing it. The most recent battle being fought for this season of "peace on earth" (oxymoron alert!), some of the "brethren" have taken the fight to court. Now, either I am having a mental breakdown of some kind, or this is just all wrong. "We" have decided to fight fire with fire, to live by the sword, "damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead"; this is America, by golly, and "we" have a stinking legal right to "celebrate" Christmas!

Bear with me...I'm in pain here. When did our butter slip right off the bisquit?

An old newspaper cartoon entitled, "Pogo" had a famous one liner that I love to quote in moments like this; "We have met the enemy and he is us." Jesus made it abundantly clear that His Kingdom was not made of the political material of the kingdoms of human making. He said that if His Kingdom was made of that material, "...My servants would fight..." to prevent His arrest (John 18:36). Once "we" take up the sword of the legal fight on this front, "we" stand to be sliced to death by the sword.

Please don't miss the fact that I am truly disgusted by the political correctness police of our day. As I stated earlier, merchants who love the bottom line of Christmas sale's receipts are completely hypocritical to forbid their employees from saying, "Merry Christmas". My point is that if we take to the courts to win this cultural war (oxymoron warning) over "good will to all people", we are actually admitting defeat!

That's right, when we have to hold on to our cherished Christmas expressions in this manner, we have admitted that our faith is won and lost on the same basis as we win or lose a dispute over a parking ticket. I, for one, refuse to stand in that quicksand. Maybe I'm the crazy one, and if so, just leave me with the drool on my face.

One last thought. I saw Rev. Jerry Falwell on the news the other day defending Christmas celebrations and vowing to take this fight to every court in the land. He told the newscaster that "we" Christians of America were the majority and "we" intend to stand for our "rights". A still small Voice came up in my heart urging me to read Matthew 5:38-45. I won't quote it here, but I strongly suggest that you get a Bible out right now and read these words of the Christ of Christmas. His Kingdom prevails only when "we" members of that Kingdom live by and "fight" by the principles of that Kingdom. Not when we become like the very world we say is persecuting us. Brother Falwell does not represent me, or the drool on my face, thank you very much.

Please, have a Merry Christmas.

Renounce Religion! Seek Only the Kingdom of God!

Before I begin this blog, I need to thank our church cleaning person. She does a great job keeping up with our very over-used building, but that is not where I need to thank her the most today. I need to thank Penny Hagar because she inadvertantly pointed me to a book on my shelf with an of off-hand reference she made in an e-mail this morning. She was talking about the author, Dr. Myles Monroe and his recent teaching on the Kingdom of God. She said it reminded her of what I was preaching and teaching at church. That little comment refreshed my memory of his book that I had given to me as a gift about a year ago. I pulled it off the shelf, read the preface and danced around my office. I'll get around to reading the rest of the book this week.

Here is a taste of what set my feet to jumping; "The greatest threat to the future of the world is Religion. Nuclear weapons, terrorism, AIDS... are simply tools used by religion. More wars have been fought in the name of religion than any other influence. Millions have died over the past 2,000 years under the destructive hand of religious zeal. Misplaced and misguided religious passion has produced such historical scars as the Crusades, the Inquisition, ethnic cleansing, and the horror of the Holocaust." Why did I dance? Because I love confirmation of God's Word in my heart.

Jesus did not come to start a new religion. He did not come to take sides politically. HE CAME TO TAKE OVER! His Kingdom is what He is all about. Jesus' proposal to us about His Kingdom is so expansive, that He promised that if we seek the Kingdom first (to aim at, strive for in all our pursuits) that every need of our life will be met. Read the Sermon on the Mount in Matthew 5, 6 and 7; it's Constitution of King Jesus and His Kingdom. No religious trappings, no religious bigotry and no religious big-headedness here. We are to think of birds and grass and flowers as the basis of our life and living. Forget about religious appearances, think perfume, fish and trees. And when it comes to the art of "preaching" (a personal favorite of mine) think of an authority that bounces the heads of current religious power brokers.

So, if there is a religious bone in your body that keeps you from living in the Kingdom, REPENT NOW. Change your mind and join me in a wild dance into the Kingdom of God!

What if We All Just Started Loving God?

The egghead brainiac reading the title of this blog might ask, "Who is this lightweight author?" The warm fuzzy emotioniac might say, "O, yes! I feel that is soooo right!" The non-thinking, non-feeling average western Christian robotiac might read it and say, (in a monotone sound) "That's exactly what I am doing". But something, no.....SomeOne....inside me is crying out, "Hear, O Israel (the people of God's present chosing and calling; Romans 2:28,29), the Lord our God is One Lord; and thou shalt love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength....".

Loving God is no head trip, no warm fuzzy feeling trip and it is most certainly not an empty, passion-less, plain vanilla, pale, sterile, antiseptic, uninspiring, tranquilizing trip! At the risk of sounding obvious, it is about LOVE! You remember that thing called love don't you?

Unpredictiable, breath-taking, pulse pounding, mentally consuming, butterfly in your gut experience....LOVE. Sometimes maddening because your lover makes no sense but your inner connectedness to them is stronger than your need to "win". The motivation for poetry, songs, paintings, sculptures, carvings in trees-school desks-etc. The inspiration for novels. The reason Junior High boys take a shower. LOVE.

When did we lose the capacity to see that loving God came under these same catagories? Why do we put God last on our list of "falling in LOVE"? Who in our lives gets the love that is intended only for God? What mystery somebody are we chasing not knowing that when we find whoever "they" are, that we wasted our time chasing "them" and did not pour our love on the feet of God and then kiss those same feet in worship? What church would risk everything, and I do mean everything, to promote the all out, even reckless pursuit of just flat out LOVING God?

Well, the answer to the last point is; the church that I am shepherding here in Forest Wisconsin; Living Word Chapel. We might not do it perfectly, but the last time I looked, real love was not a science. In fact, the first time most of us "fell in love" and we asked some one to explain love to us, all we got was a goofy look in return.

I will do what I know to do to lead my flock to a passionate love for God. Why? Because religion is dead and church systems are failing. Calling people to an all out love for God is the only truth that will build the Kingdom of God and potentially create an authentic spirituality that is worth embracing. The church in America is dying for change, but just rearranging schedules or bringing in different worship styles is like giving a cadaver a flu shot. We must, TODAY, start LOVING GOD like there is no tomorrow. Like Saint Janis Joplin said, "When you hold somebody, you've got to hold them like its the last minute of your life, man".

Weekend Nazi

Those of you who know me know that my hobby is acting. Down through the years I have played parts large and small in community theater, a small semi-professional stage and a wide variety of church dramas. I guess since I don't rock climb, parachute, hunt or anything else requiring some degree of non-work related risk, it is just my way of tempting fate. The difference is that in the other forms of risk-taking you stand a fair chance of physical injury or death. Most acting related hazards involve a bruised ego. Much less lethal but adrenalin inducing none-the-less.

Our church just finished a great run of an off broadway play called, "Smoke on the Mountain" and I played Burl Sanders. The character is a combination of Andy Griffith and Jed Clampett. I will spent several weeks trying to get rid of his 1930's southern accent (not to mention the songs I had to sing that are still renting space in my mind). Right after one of the productions, the lady who runs a local community theater came to me and told me that she needed an emergency favor. This week she is running a production of "Sound of Music" and the guy who played the main mean Nazi got a call to be in a movie out west and he bailed on her at the last minute. Could I please play the Nazi one week after playing Andy/Jed? The call of risk over rode my common sense. Last weekend, "ya'll come", this weekend, "HEIL HITLER".

Last night, at the one and only full practice I can attend before opening night tomorrow, I found myself hiding in a dark backstage corner, trying to read my prompts and getting ready to run across stage in my SS uniform chasing the missing Von Trapp family. Suddenly, I became aware of a tiny little red headed 7 year old hiding in another sub-staging about 10 feet away. She is playing the youngest Von Trapp. Well, the point is, when I could make out her sweet face I saw real terror looking back at me. That's when it hit me; I look scary in my jack booted, swastika decorated costume and she's getting ready to pretend to be "hiding" from the Nazi monsters that are soon to be stalking her.

I wanted to smile at her, or make a funny face, wave cutely, or anything to relieve her tension. But the moment was gone, my prompt came up, and I was off across the stage sounding like a German (from down south) yelling orders to find the Von Trapp family. This morning I can't get that frightened little face out of my mind. It was such a poingnant slice of time.

This might not be a profound blog, but I just needed some forum to "confess". I thought talking southern hick and singing old blue grass gospel music was haunting. Now, I'm really haunted! Sometime this weekend I NEED to find a moment with that little Von Trapp sweetheart and do what I can to make sure I don't become a permanent player in her inner stage of nightmares!

Ned Flanders and Bishop Carlton Pearson

A few weeks ago I mentioned that I had heard Bishop Carlton Pearson at a conference I attended in Atlanta. The setting was small and informal. He was asked to speak on the stir he has created of late when he says that, "God is not Christian". Not everyone in that room agreed with everything Bishop Pearson said, but I am certain that everyone in that room left the meeting knowing that a man of God had just challenged and blessed us. The good Bishop is saying some things that western Christianity needs to hear, even if, in the end result we still disagree. Truthfully, all he is really saying is that Christianity in 2005 has created a God in OUR image who gives us an excuse for hating the world, "God so loved...that He gave His only Son."

Another person I have heard recently is Homer Simpson's neighbor, Ned Flanders. He's not a preacher, in fact, he's not even real (and not just in the manner that some preachers and Christians aren't real); he's a cartoon character. But, he is the personification and compilation of what many outside observers have concluded to be a good picture of evangelical, fundementalist Christians. Homer once asked Ned where he had been and Ned's answer makes me hurt and giggle all at the same time: "We've been away to a Christian camp. We were learning how to be more judgemental."

Another speaker at the conference I referred to earlier said, "Jesus was crucified, not for what he said, but for what people said He said....and not much has changed 2005 years later." Sadly, the world is full of Ned Flanders and his flock who hear or see something on the surface and run to judgement faster than a speeding bullet. Ironically, it is for that very reason that the Holy Spirit is stirring Bishop Pearson to speak, so as to challenge what we have become.

I don't agree with everything that Bishop Pearson says, but I will tell you this much; I trust the Holy Spirit in him and in me to sort it all out and create more of the image of Christ in the Body of Christ, in the end result.

On a side note; last spring I had the wonderful opportunity to take my bride of 31 years on our first honeymoon to Jamaica. While there we attended a 2 day conference which included Bishop Pearson. I saw him a number of times back and forth on elevators, the hotel lobby and the beach. Now, I have been around preachers for more years than I have been married and I can smell pride and "fake" a mile away.... trust me when I tell you I have smelled all too much of that stench. But what I saw in Bishop Pearson was kindness, passion and REALITY, both on and off the stage. I hope that influence, and my own, helps to make the cartoon character, Ned Flanders, an obsolete image for my granddaughter's generation.

Bye, bye Ned.....

Saint Janis

I love Janis Joplin. Her voice, her spirit, her passion and her hippy (albeit stoned) wisdom. At the Canadian Festival Express at Calgary, July 4, 1970, she said, "Everybody in the world wants the same "@#!" thing. They need the same thing....I don't understand why half the world is still crying while the other half is still crying too, man. I can't get it together. If you've got to care for one day, man....maybe you want to care for 365 days...you can't....You got it for ONE day and that day better be your life. Because you could cry about the other 364 days but you're gonna lose that ONE day. That's all you've got. You've got to call that love, man....when you hold somebody, you've got to hold them like it's the last minute of your life." In an interview about her singing style she once said, "If I hold back, I'm no good. I'd rather be good sometimes than holding back all the time." ......AMEN.

Every so often I like to listen to her CDs and imagine that she's leading worship. I close my eyes and try to envision a cool church service with her throwing down her version of "Revelation Song" or "Jesus, Holy and Anointed One". I believe God had a calling on her life for just that purpose. I believe that her talent was God's gift that was tragically stolen by the culture of her day and lost on a church that was asleep at the wheel.

Whether she knew or not, she was desparate for the God Who gifted her. Whether we knew or not, we were desparate for the gift of God that was in her. I totally identify with her when she said, "When I hold back, I'm no good. I'd rather be good sometimes than holding back all the time." I preach based on that ideal. When I hold back, I'm no good. It isn't easy, but it is truth, and truth was never supposed to be easy.

I often wonder how many gifts from God, like Janis, are thrown away by the church because we are too self-righteous, too self-satisfied and too judgemental to see their potential gifting. Someone I heard recently said, "Christians are saints AWARE of Grace. Sinners are Saints UNAWARE of Grace." The Apostle Paul said that he was chosen for his calling from his mother's womb. That being the case, he sure did some destructive and nasty things before he was changed by the power of God. And I know the church of his day sure looked at him sideways for a while......but aren't you glad they finally got over their fear and received the man of God and his gift?

Ironically, God's goodness changed my life in the late 60's. I played a rough but mean guitar with no other idea of music except rock, the blues and alittle (cough, choke, spit) country. When I came to Christ and His Church, I was naive enough to think that my guitar could come with me. So, me and my Gretsch guitar came to the orchestra rehearsal. I started wondering if the song we were practicing was called, "Turn it Down" because 14 people around me kept chanting that phrase. One night, right after rehearsal, after everyone was gone and the sanctuary was empty, I turned "it" back up to just enjoy myself. I was immediately startled by a shouting deacon at the back of the sanctuary who wanted me to know, "This isn't a honky-tonk....turn that down!"

From that time forward, my Gretsch spent too much time in a closet, but in spite of that and many other unfortunate experiences, I remained naive and continued to love God. I just can't help but wonder how many others took their guitars, voices and gifts from God back into the "honky-tonk" (what a lovely term) and possibly died premature deaths, just like Janis. So, I take her wisdom; "You got to care about ONE DAY, man. That day better be your life.....you could cry about the other 364 days, but you're gonna lose that ONE day."

I'll be preaching tonight and I promise you this one thing; I won't hold back. Oh, and I'll be playing my new Gretsch guitar tonight too. Heh, heh, heh....I just dare any deacon within 20 miles to tell me to turn it down....

Brother, Can You Spare A Million?

Before you read this, let me warn you. I'm mad. It's not righteous, holy, or indignant. I am plainly and simply...... ticked off. You have no idea how much I want to use stronger langauge but I will at least restrain myself at that most basic level. But that's where my restraint ends.

Corporate quarterly earning reports are filtering out into the media landscape. History has been made, records have been shattered and tens of billions of dollars have been banked for the past quarter. (that's 3 months or 12 weeks or approximately 84 days). The oil company giants are overwhelmed at the jackpot. They have blitzed previous earning records for any company in any business. At last estimate I think I tabulated that the big 4 or 5 of these pigs have an extra 33,000,000,000 in their vaults. That's billion folks. Not million, 33 BILLION just in the last quarter. Exxon, Shell, BP, Texaco. Fat, happy and still charging us $2.25 at the pump. If somebody doesn't ask some serious questions in a large and public arena somewhere, I'm going to be mad all over again.

We've been told that the hurricanes are the cause, that the limited refineries are the cause, that the evil Arabs are the cause and our unlimited consumption is the cause. Enough of the lies. The cause is unmitigated, unbridled, unmasked, unimaginable GREED. And not just garden variety greed, but a greed that jumped on the backs of hurricane ravaged victims on the coast and in central America. A greed that saw a historic opportunity to mug and rape hapless customers.

But, before you dismiss me as some raging preacher looking for a soapbox, let me educate you. I just hung up the phone from yet another family in our area that is about to be evicted from their tiny home because they have been pouring more and more money into their gas tank to get to a minimum wage job. I am the president of ministerial association that sponsers a food shelf, emergency fuel assistance, rental assistance and other small efforts to bridge life and death gaps that welfare and low end jobs do not cover. During this last quarter I have been watching and listening to the escalation of calls for help in our little corner of the world. Our food shelf is under seige. Thank God we have good resources and wonderful volunteers, but, our little assistance checkbook is almost completely drained.

And yes, I DID just hang up the phone from a weeping lady offering to do any kind of community service she can just to get an extra $100 for rent, today. Last week I pulled off a miracle (because of time and procedures) to get $10 of gas to a lady needing to get to the hospital for a potentially life saving treatment. The week before that I was called by a man who was in obvious emotional pain because he was embarrassed to ask for $10 of gas to get to work. When I also sent him to our food shelf, he was beside himself with gratitude.

I have answered calls like this for the better part of 30 years. I can smell fraud. Faking your need does not generally work with me. The people I am talking to lately are, for the most part, very painfully real. But while I am on the subject of smelling the stink of fraud, let me tell you that the stench of fraud is at at the gas pumps. These oil company CEO's are faking their need and as of right now, I have had it! Beginning today, I am going to find a way to contact these god-fathers and their underworld partners in crime and ask for a spare million for the ministerial account I represent. The people they have stolen from are in real pain and I need just ONE million of their last quarter ill-gotten billions to assist these weeping souls who are calling me. No administrative costs will come out of that, no office overhead....a straight million back into bellies and pockets of the people who have just been robbed over the last several weeks.

"Hey brother Exxon, brother Shell, brother Texaco and brother BP! Can you spare a million? I know life is real hard on you right now....all that money counting and searing of your conscience and all. But if you could spare a paltry million, maybe you could help stop the bleeding in a few genuinely needy families out here in fly over country. If it helps you make up your depraved mind, please know that a great deal of that million will go to $10 gas vouchers for people trying to make to their poverty level jobs and doctor appointments."

Did I mention that I'm mad?

Apocalypse WOW!

I am looking at an 11 x 17 full color brochure sent to me, my church and several members of my church. The cover shouts, "Apocalypse Now!....Coming October 23 to Menomonie, WI". Today is October 26th and unless every major news outlet has missed it, Menomonie is still there. Maybe the Apocalypse didn't know how to get there, took a right turn in Eau Claire and ended up in a farm field and wiped out some poor cow....utter devastation.

Now, I know that this slick (sick) brochure is advertising a program called "Apocalypse Now!" but the silly contradictions are too blatant to ignore. Like the teaser on the back that says, "Future Topics to be Announced!". Future?, What future?

Now.... let me describe the best contradiction of this ad. On the inside, centered among bizarre cartoons of strange multi-headed beasts and scary "Killer nations coming" subtitles, is a large font headline that reads, "Surviving the Terror", and just below that is a caption that says,"This prophecy seminar is presented in a relaxed atmosphere....come as you are and enjoy.....!" RELAXED?! ENJOY?! WOW! Indeed, "Apocalypse, WOW!"

This is a perfect illustration of why I am saying, "God is not Christian". He is not "Christian" in the form of this silliness. He is not "Christian" by the definitions offered by cartoon ads seeking to scare the pants off the average postal customer. The God of historic Christianity, the real, one and only God defies all slick brochure caricatures and is above our fictional fantasies.

I am offering myself as a voice in this brochure wilderness, crying out for those who have an ear to hear, "Let's rediscover God! Let's give God a chance to reshape, reform and renovate modern Christian 'spirituality' into something that shines forth the awe inspiring light of the face of Jesus Christ in our day and on our streets." Will you join me?

The Book of Revelations

Before you skim over this entry to see if you are interested, take a look at the title. Look again.

See anything amiss? The Bible does not have a book in it called "Revelations". Somebody might say that I am being picky. That's OK. This is America; you have the right to be wrong. I am not being picky.....what I am is a shepherd watching over the flock by night and I have witnessed a sick wolf stalking the flock.

Skinny and mangy, but he is the most hazardous type of wolf to the sheep because he is a wolf of doctrinal purity and theological precision. He can quote 10 scriptures more quickly than you can say the Pledge of Allegiance. This wolf has intentionally misrepresented the character of God and the beauty of Jesus Christ with impunity on Christian TV and in Christian book sales. This wolf believes that the last book of the Bible is a spooky collection of revelations about the (scary organ music please) "end times".

The simplicity of the book of Revelation is found immediately in its opening verse; "The Revelation of Jesus Christ, which God gave Him to show His servants--things which must shortly take place." That simple statement has been mangled, twisted, abused, stretched, ignored and plural-ized. What if the book is not at all about any end of the world business? What if the book is not at all about a 7 year anger itch that God has buried in His nasty side? What if the word pictures, the mysterious images, the mystical portraits and the colors, numbers, scrolls, trumpets and symbols are just exactly what the first verse says? What if it is about Jesus Christ and things that have taken place and will always take place in human history?

The dear man who wrote Revelation, John, was a man of poetic eloquence and passion. He laid his head on the chest of Jesus at the last supper. He was a man of deep feelings who must have struggled mightily to find words and means to express the unimaginable things revealed to him.

God took a magnificent risk in trusting such a soul to write this book, but it was a necessary risk in order to paint the portrait that emerged. Now then, think of this book as the most majestic original word painting ever created.

It is not a collection of revelations. It is the depth, width, height and length of a Jesus most have never seen. It is an artist's view of history from the heavens. It is rich in metphors, symbols and word pictures that point to a Jesus Christ who must be rediscovered by the church.

I dare you who read this to completely shed yourself of the religious baggage you may taken on and join me in a passionate treasure hunt for the real, one and only Jesus Christ. I believe we have not yet seen and known the Real Jesus and I believe He can be found in the book of Revelation.

Oh, and remember that sick wolf roaming around the edge of the flock? When you have a true revelation of Jesus Christ, he is "left behind".