Healthy Intoxication

Last night I spent some time in a local park. Walking through a group of four young teens, I saw one quickly shove a bag of marijuana into his sagging pants pocket. Something told me to stop and push the matter, but I also didn't exactly feel up to potentially getting "capped" by a youngster who might be carrying more than his next thrill. Wisdom getting the better of valor, I kept walking. But the whole matter got me thinking... was this a young nefarious entrepreneur or was he the end line user? Perhaps both.

It is astounding how many substances in our society people use to alter their mood or disposition. Alcohol, drugs, tobacco, TV, music, exercise, motorcycles, whatever your "drug of choice," there is ample opportunity to escape the weight of earthly existence. Though experience has taught many of us that when we choose an "artificial" means to deal with "real life" issues, the burdens are only multiplied and magnified when the "high" wears off. Still countless numbers of us continue pursuing the temporary "high" in preference to the rough road of reality.

Spiritual formation may have interesting points of convergence with the use of artificial escapism. Do we pursue the Heavenly as a means of escape from the pressures of earthly existence or does pursuit of the Divine result in the relief from the temporal, profane and mortal? Perhaps both.

Thomas Merton once wrote, "There is intoxication in the waters of contemplation." If one pursues the classical spiritual disciplines for any consistent period of time, they will find this to be true. For example, devote your heart to the daily reading and meditation of Scripture for a few weeks and then interrupt the discipline (though I don't recommend neglecting it for long, because the coals of the human heart-fire grow dim about as quickly as coals removed from a camp fire) and see if you have a sense of displacement -- of something "missing" in your life. Your life will prove Merton correct. There is something intoxicating about encountering God and being touched by Him.

But a question remains: "Are we willing to pursue God if there is no apparent "immediate" gratification? Will we seek the presence of God, even if He appears mysteriously absent (though He is never far from any one of us -- see Acts 17:27)? Or, do we merely approach God like we do any number of temporary "numbing" devices -- we look for a spiritual quick "fix" and then move along back into our familiar mode of self-sufficiency and burdensome pains?

It is reported the well-known Christian mystic Therese of Lisieux (1873-1897) did not receive one spiritual consolation from God from the day she entered the Carmel monastery until her death from tuberculosis nine years later. Yet, today she is revered by the Catholic church and Christians who study spiritual formation as a great woman of God. What value is there in faith if one doesn't "feel" different in the pursuit? Living in a context of feeling-oriented faith, have we the discipline and spiritual commitment to walk the hard road of reality, even when our faith doesn't make us feel good? It is a good question.

Many consistent Sunday morning worship attenders approach faith as a means to escape reality. In such cases, faith becomes commericalized and spirituality abusive. Worship must "make me feel good" or there is no apparent value in it. All merits are placed in the subjective evaluation of feelings and not in the transformative qualities of being in the presence of God.

There is a need in our day to simply pursue God for the sake of knowing Him and, consequently, being known by Him. The more we draw near to God the more He draws near to us (James 4:8). Being in God's presence is, in fact, an intoxicating draw. But we should seek Him simply for the sake of knowing Him, not merely to escape the burdens of a life attempted in absence of Him.

God is.

Still on vacation, I am fighting the urge to be back at "work" and in the routine of daily life. I guess that is a sign that vacation is proving effective but it may also be a sign of something else that isn't altogether healthy. Getting back to work might be a diversion away from the truly important matters of life and a step back into the illusions of things that we think are important but may not be of first importance.

Either way, there is something about which I've always been aware, but my attention to it has been elevated this past week. The reality of which I've been reminded is, that God is. Period. That's it. God, by nature, simply is. Always.

In ministry, I've found the concept of "going on vacation" a little bit weird. How does one "go on vacation" from trying to help people in the name of Jesus? It is similar to the concept of "retirement." How does a minister ever retire from ministry? While the location of their office may change, a minister never retires from ministry unless they retire from God Himself. After all, we're all ministers in the Kingdom of God (1 Pet. 2:9) and the concept of retirement (especially from Kingdom service) doesn't appear in Scripture. Even in prison, the apostle Paul didn't retire, he kept writing letters to churches.

This past week, I've done considerable thinking about the whole matter and what balance I've found is that while we may relax and restore ourselves physically, spiritually there are no vacations. In fact, when a minister is "away" from the office and his or her daily responsibilities, it should be a period of time for greater pursuit of an even deeper spiritual relationship with the Creator.

By way of confession, I'll say for the record that this vacation I've devoted more time to my faith walk with Christ than in any previous vacation I've ever taken. Deep times of meditation, prayer, reading of Scripture and simply being quiet and solemn. It has been perhaps more transformational than even the best R&R vacations I've taken where I find myself either sleeping on the beach after a long surf session or dirt biking in the tall pines. This vacation I have found a deeper sense of refuge with the Lord and it is a place I want in my life as something more than an occasional visit. This needs to become my new residence. If this is vacation, I don't ever want to go home!

The power of this restoration I'm experiencing on this "vacation" is that God is. He never sleeps. He never slumbers. He is always mindful of us. He is always "not far from us" (Acts 17:27) and longs to be sought by us.

Whether you serve in full-time ministry or not, my encouragement is for us to not move away from the Lord in our time off, but instead find ourselves moving toward Him. It takes lifelong intentional effort to move from the "obligations" of relationship with God into the realm of "treasure." Remembering that Jesus said, "where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Matt. 6:21).

Next week I'll be back in the office on a regular schedule, but as I never intend to retire from the honor of serving in the name of Jesus, I also intend to never come off this "vacation." The time has just been too sweet and no other vacation will ever compare.

Vacation...

This week and next I'll be taking some time for rest and restoration. Funny how our spirit needs the same kind of care the physical body requires and yet we, as people, tend to neglect both!

At one point we had a rather complicated (scheduling) vacation planned traveling across several states, visiting family and generally running ourselves ragged with something to do at every turn of the road or the clock. That has since given way to more simple time. Rest... sleep as much as you want... and taking in some more "local" sights.

The first week I'll be spending all my time with the girls and showing them the local interests of our new home here in Dallas. Next week... all four of us are heading south to take in a bit of fun at a famous waterpark and see some historical sights.

All in all, it will be what our family needs and rarely seems to find much of any more... "time." We'll call it "vacation" but for me, it will be a time to be "re-created." Regular blog pace will follow...

Time continuum...

I'm heading into a couple weeks of vacation having given some thought to time recently. What a more precious and yet, utterly illusive reality is time? When we're young, we think we have so much of it. When we are old, we realize we have so little of it. Most of the time (pardon the pun), we live relatively unaware of it or controlled by it. Strange thing, isn't it?

For the past few years I've given some effort at trying to live relative to time (but that just gets me into hot water with people who are type "A" and expect everyone to be "on time"). I remember what the biblical author Peter once wrote regarding God and time... "But do not forget this one thing, dear friends: with the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years are like a day. The Lord is not slow in keeping his promise, as some understand slowness. He is patient with you..." (2 Pet. 3:8-9). As much as I would enjoy it (I think) it is difficult to imagine living free from the constraint of time. What is "time" anyway?

I have a confession to make: I'm a bit of a watch enthusiast. I have several and my wife gave me a beautiful mahogany box to store most of them in this past Christmas. Truth be known, I could use a bigger box, because only the nicer ones have room to fit. I'd have many, many more than I do but finance always seems to come into play for watch people. Father's Day is on the way, so one can always hope (how tacky is that?). I'll watch those HSN shows and just gawk at watch after watch... ironically, not the best use of my time! But watches fascinate me... more for the metaphorical value and craftsmanship perhaps, than anything else.

One of my most prized watches is a 1947 Hamilton stem winder that was given to me following the death of my paternal grandfather. My step-grandmother asked if there was anything of his I would be interested in having in remembrance. I suggested a watch and the one I have is what she sent. I'd not seen it prior, nor do I have any recollection of his wearing it. It has a gold case and is classic round in styling.

It has some earthly value, but the sentimental value to me is priceless. We were not close. I only spent maybe less than six occasions with the man my entire life (geographic distance and being the only West Coast family made getting together difficult), but to wear his watch holds me close to him in memory. I wear it infrequently because I would hate to lose it. It is a powerful symbol for me.

A couple years ago, I lost a dear friend to cancer. In the wake of his first declared remission, his family gave him a pocket watch... because rather than a wrist watch, when he wanted to know what "time" it was, he would have to deliberately take it out of his pocket, open the watch and check the time. Joe told me each second was precious to him and the discipline of opening that watch was never a burden but rather a grace. I'll always remember Joe and that watch.

I'm out on vacation for the next couple weeks and I'm going to spend time meditating on the time I have -- however illusive it may be. I'll spend some great time with my wife and precious daughters... but I'll be looking for something more. Maybe this vacation will be less about "time off" and more about "time on." As time "marches on," I only pray I make the best of the time I have left.

Psalm 139:16... My God is bigger than time.

Time Passages

Some of the best times of my ministry life were spent in the dusty town of Lubbock, Texas at an annual event known as Encounter. Sponsored each June by Lubbock Christian University, over 1,000 high school students descend on that campus and if they are open to the opportunity, can actually "encounter" the awesome and powerful presence of God.

For several consecutive years as one guy in a band of merry youth ministers, we collectively poured our hearts and souls into innovative classes and plenary addresses. College students consistently gave up a week of their summer break to be a blessing and a friend to teens they had only just met. It was simultaneously one of the most exhilarating and tiring weeks of each summer. It has now been nearly a decade since I was last there and I didn't realize how much I've missed being a part of it until a couple hours ago.

Tonight my oldest daughter arrived home from her first LCU Encounter and I can already see a formative difference it has made in her life. She left younger and came back older. Not just chronologically, but spiritually and emotionally more mature and refined. Sure, she told us of all the jokes, the fun and the memories, but I can see a deepening has occurred, too. Simply the way she spoke of worship on the final night was different than I've ever heard her speak of worship previously. It was obviously time (and money) well spent.

It was a time passage. I'm thankful for the investment we made in students decades ago and now I'm thankful for those who've invested themselves in the lives of students today. What a pleasure to feel the encounter with God blessings again, only from a different viewpoint -- a generation removed. Truly a time passage.

When Flowers Fall

Last Saturday I brought home some flowers for my wife. I know she appreciates them, but truth be told, I like them, too! There is something about fresh flowers that speaks "life" into any environment. Especially the place we call home.

The arrangement was lovely, appropriately sized and well priced in my opinion. It always makes me feel good to find some way to express love to my sweet wife (she has to put up with too much of me to not have something that smells "sweet" in her life on occasion).

The thing that bugs me about fresh cut flowers is their terminal nature. Technically speaking, we're giving something "dead" to the one we love. We trim an inch off the bottom of each stem, stick them in water after mixing in the "miracle" flower preservative, but for all intents and limited purposes those things are as dead as an upside down cockroach.

(Somehow, though, offering a deceased insect doesn't have the same net effect.)

All week, the flowers have been beautiful to see and they have reminded me of just how special my wife is to me. Would that I could fill our home daily with flowers as a testimony of how important she is to me and our family. But even dead stuff has a high price.

But today, as I passed by our plant stand behind the cream-colored arm chair in the family room, I saw one of the lilly blossoms lying on the floor. I located the bare stem from which it fell and kind of mourned the loss. I didn't have time to pick it up, so I've got that to look forward to when we get home. There is a chance the dog or cat might try to eat it. Less of a chance one of my daughters will pick it up. But the whole beautifully dead and dying thing gave me a thought.

Left alone, aren't we all kind of like that? As infants, we're beautifully born (even us "ugly" babies) but from the moment we're birthed, we're on a journey toward death. It is as real as anything else. I know this all sounds a bit morose, but there is a hope we can grow into...

"Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness..." (Lam. 3:22-23).

I love the thought that from God's point of things are "new" every morning. Though my flesh may wither like the cut flower (hopefully not as fast, but sometimes I wonder), my spirit is renewed and restored every day. God doesn't have to look at the spiritual me and mourn the death of the soul. He has provided "eternal life" in the here and now (John 17:3) through Jesus Christ.

If you feel withered, like a fallen bloom to the ground, please remember "new mercies" and just try to take in all the beauty God is created inside you. In turn, you will ultimately be a "love expression" as in a house filled with flowers. "Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day" (2 Cor. 4:16).

Buy someone a few flowers, you'll be glad you did...

Toothbrushes and Tennis Shoes

So I open the latest issue of SI (Sports Illustrated) and there, on a full two page spread, is the ad for the latest offering from Nike in their sport shoe line-up -- the Air Max 360. Sleek, innovative, technologically supreme... you'd think this more an ad for Germany's "ultimate driving machine" than for a "tennis" shoe.

I'm from an age when tennis shoes really were just tennis shoes. Now, specialization has taken over and only the best and most sport appropriate shoe will do. I have seen kids wear $130 sport specific shoes in rec league play. What's up with that? Does an 11-year-old really need the same shoe the people who get paid millions of dollars to play are wearing (and, by the way, sports heroes don't buy their shoes, the manufacturer gives them away)? Strange world, indeed.

What happened to the days of Converse All-Stars/Chuck Taylors and PF Flyers? Yeah, you can still buy them, but they are only fashionable among the "Emo" crowd or with retro rock bands. You're surely not going to see a pair running down the court at this year's NBA Finals! (Go Mavs!).

While we're talking technology for the body... have you noticed the technology in toothbrushes lately? Man... talk about a "snooze you lose," "dog eat dog" market! I'd hate to be the toothbrush R&D guy trying to come up with the next latest and greatest toothbrush. I mean, how much more utilitarian can you get? Put a pea-sized dollop of paste here... move the brush back and forth. (Oh, excuse me... up and down... up and down... see, I did listen in health class). Not complicated, but imagine the research going into new brush technology!

Now we have toothbrushes than could pass government issue standard as tactical weapons only a few decades ago. These things are amazing... pulsating bristles, rubber plaque eliminating probes, integrated tongue scrubbers, comfort grips, ergonomic angular design... WOW!!! How do I get one for myself? $5.50 for a toothbrush? I'm there, man! What a deal!

I wonder what brush your favorite sport hero uses? Or do they have someone brush their teeth for them? We never see them endorsing toothbrushes now, do we? Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

What once took me only 20 seconds to do at the grocery store, now takes market research and an issue of Consumer Reports. To pick out which brush will really effectively eliminate my nasty plaque issues, scrub my tongue and freshen my breath at the same time? This is important stuff, man!

This all got me to wondering about faith. What do toothbrushes, tennis shoes and spirituality have in common? Perhaps not much. Until you look a little deeper...

Is innovation really all it's cracked up to be? Do we really need $160 basketball shoes (the MSRP for the Air Max 360 Basketball shoe)? Does my toothbrush really have to have "superhero" plaque fighting abilities and cost more than lunch at Wendy's?

The thing is, the world is changing. Toothbrushes and tennis shoes are changing. But the way we "do faith" for many of us hasn't changed in a long time. While our soles are better supported, not much has changed in our soul nourishment. Same teeth, same feet... same heart, same spirit... what's the connection?

Why are we so complicit in the consumption of an ever-demanding techno world, but so slow to accept change in our own spiritual development? It is an interesting tension, don't you think?

Maybe the difference is that one type of change is innovated for us and all we have to do is merely consume it. The other requires the R&D that I initiate and that may demand a higher price than I am currently willing to pay. What kind of faith are you wearing today? Air Max 360 or PF Flyers?

It might be time to shell out some spiritual cash and go for a new brand of spiritual technology. What do you think?

The Art of Quiet

I'm trying to learn the value of simply being quiet. There is so much noise in our world, "silence" is a precious commodity. I've even wondered if silence is extinct. Can it still be found? If so, where? Does anyone have any silence left? If you do, I think I'd like to buy some.

I realize silence is a relative construct. In as much as I can appreciate the thought of "being still," perfect silence is almost deafening -- nearly disturbing in itself. When I can find it, my ears literally ring with a buzzing noise. Is it really that foreign to my ears? Maybe this is critical commentary on how unfamiliar we are with silence.

Finding relative silence and learning to be quiet is an art (actually a discipline) rarely practiced even by the more spiritually mature among us. Truth be known, we're addicted to noise. We like noise and what it does for us. Fact is, we're uncomfortable in the presence of others when there is silence and we resist even ourselves when silence moves in. Why?

Perhaps it is avoidance of the important things -- the penetrating matters of life. Like rearranging all the stuff on your desk, but doing nothing to accomplish the work all those piles represent, keeping things "noisy" rearranges the life-stacks among us, but doesn't do anything to advance the cause of being better people or more like Jesus.

Throughout Scripture, when God speaks, he doesn't blow the listener away in mega-decibels, though He is certainly capable of doing so. Ironically, it is typically God's people who are making all the noise (Ex. 32;:17; Ezra 3:13; Amos 5:23)! Shouting, complaining, fighting... or even singing praises, for thousands of years we are the ones always making all the noise.

God's speech is too often in a whisper or a still small voice (1 Kings 19:12; Job 26:14) for us to neglect silence or at least a little peace and quiet. In all the noise around us, could we hear God even if He were speaking? Some postulate God doesn't speak that way anymore. I'm begging the question, "How in the world do we know?" Can we really make that statement with any confidence? Maybe, like rearranging our desktops and not getting any work done but the appearance changes, we find that noise is a convenient way to avoid listening!

I even have to wonder about how much pride is involved when we can't be quiet long enough to hear if God is speaking. "My heart is not proud, O Lord, my eyes are not haughty; I do not concern myself with great matters or things too wonderful for me. But I have stilled and quieted my soul; like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child is my soul within me. O Israel, put your hope in the Lord both now and forevermore." (Ps. 131)

Now, if you'll excuse me. I'll be looking for some quiet. I'll let you know if I hear anything.

Shaped by Death

Today I attended the funeral of a man I'd never met. Surreal experience actually, and before you think it strange or wonder if I merely wander into funeral homes on a lark, I will set the record straight. I, in fact, am acquainted with the deceased's son and daughter-in-law. But I'd never had the privilege of meeting the man who passed away earlier this week.

Sitting toward the back, I observed with intrigue the social quantities associated with people passing from this life to the next. Some smiled with deep compassion and showed clear signs of personal relief that pain was now a thing of the past. Others looked pained themselves and clearly would have rather been elsewhere. Likely because death is foreign and threatening to them -- more like a final destination than a brief layover in life's terminal.

One particular woman sitting a couple rows ahead of me offered commentary on the music selections in nothing less than a stage whisper, "I don't care much for the music," she expressed to her neighbor. It was inappropriate in my opinion and caused me to wonder as if she were there for her own selfish intent rather than to be a blessing to the bereaved.

This all got me to thinking... how often are we shaped by death?

If you come upon an auto accident evidencing a fatality, how long does the experience change your driving habits, if they change at all? We all seem to operate in some realm of existential denial -- "It will always happen to someone else," we hope blindly. I've witnessed automotive death several times (unfortunately for those loved ones left behind), and though I know the risks involved with human transportation, I still ride a very fast motorcycle as many days per week as possible. Has death failed to make its mark on me?

Today, I didn't attend with the intention of taking something away. (Though, likely much to the distress of the woman seated two rows ahead of me, I found the music absolutely wonderful and very much to my liking, while formative to my heart and soul). But death did make an impression -- at a stranger's funeral. Today, I remembered how precious life is and how quickly it passes. Like a mist that appears for a moment and then vanishes (James 4:14). While this man didn't command a world stage (fewer than 100 people attended the funeral), it impressed me that he must have made a difference in the life of at least a few. One gentleman, not a member of the family, wept openly at one point during a video montage (which the music critic also indicated was much too long for her liking). Clearly, this man's life had shaped him and he mourned the loss.

I must admit, I didn't mourn directly today, but today I was shaped by death. If I make it home on my motorcycle tonight, I'll kiss my wife more passionately, hug my kids more sincerely and look for a way to change my world.

Death does matter, perhaps as much as life. We would do well to take time and access what impression it may have on us, before we ourselves vanish away.

Rest in peace, stranger. For in your passing, you touched a life.