unruly

apparently, when the teachers in our small group are away, we are a terribly unruly group... but it makes for a very entertaining evening!

tonight we talked for a bit about if it is even possibly to be madly in love with God. we've all heard Jesus' words as he quoted the book of deuteronomy, saying, 'love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength.' but the actual doing of this is where most of us get lost. no one wants to be labeled a crazy christian, one with no seeming grasp on reality, no clue how to relate with people who don't speak the same 'language', the ones we would cross the street to avoid.

but our fear of crazy doesn't absolve us from the call to love our God with everything in our lives. maybe we need to be a little less conscious of the crazy, and a little more purposeful with the love.

i love you, gentlest of ways,
who ripened us as we wrestled with you.

you, the great homesickness we could never shake off,
you, the forest that always surrounded us,

you, the song we sang in every silence,
you, the dark net threading through us,

on the day you made us you created yourself,
and we grew sturdy in your sunlight...

let your hand rest on the rim of heaven now
and mutely bear the darkness we bring over you.

~ranier maria rilke

moved!

we are moved.

there are still some hurdles to cross. not everything is finished. some furniture is incomplete. some desks are not quite assembled. some of the details are still awaiting someone skilled enough to do them. and finally, the construction project is not finished... but in spite of all of this, we are in. perhaps, now, for the first time this week, i will sleep through the night.

i have never really outgrown the 'just like a child at christmas' excitement phase... hopefully i never will.

crippled

it's the week everyone on staff at PORTICO has been waiting for: the big move back to the church campus.

ten months ago, we packed up everything, took some of the stuff with us, demolished the portapak and moved across town. it all seemed temporary at first, but some time around september or october, it started feeling less temporary, and more like we would be making the commute forever.

i wish i could tell you that i have handled the inconvenience with the utmost of grace and joy... but that would be a pathetic lie. i have complained, internally and externally. i have grumbled about the added expense, the quadrupled commute time, and things too trivial to even remember at this point.

in short, i have not been an example i would want anyone to follow.

then today, on my very last early morning commute day, i took the bus that i've taken at least three or four times a week for the past ten months, and while i was waiting at the Square One terminal, the bus i normally connect to pulled up, and, as usual, most passengers exited. the last passenger, a man in his late 50s or early 60s, uses a cane and has very limited mobility. he is always the last one off, mostly, i am sure, because passengers exiting a bus seldom wait patiently for someone moving slowly in front of them.

over the ten months, i have seen this man at least three times a week and since usually i am in the crowd waiting to get on the bus he is exiting, i have never spoken a word to him. today, however, i decided to wait for the next bus, in an effort to cut one transfer out of my commute. as i waited, the man walked past me, and i smiled at him. he stopped for a moment, commenting on how glad he was that mississauga has a good transit system, but that you simply cannot get anywhere on one bus. he was very pleasant and well-spoken, and we chatted for a few moments before he was off to catch his next bus.

as i watched him slowly walk away, the selfishness of my attitude and actions over the past ten months overwhelmed me. i have two good feet at the end of my two good legs. i have a healthy body that has not experienced any real hardship in the commute. i have nothing to complain about. and yet, i have complained.

after this week, if all goes well and the move happens as planned, i may never see that man again, but i will always be grateful to him for helping me see my own crippled heart in comparison to his healthy, grateful one.

incredible

i love the quietness of sunday morning. it's 7:47 am right now, and still i hear only the heat the just came on. soon enough folks will begin moving around, and the peace that now exists will be gone.

the series that we are on at PORTICO, Jesus: An Original Biography, is challenging the way we all look at him. it is too easy to think that given a situation, or some facet of his character that we've learned or heard about is all that there is to him. but if that were true, he would be a sad kind of god.

this morning, i read this passage taken from ken gire's book incredible moments with the savior, and it has only served to renew my wonder.

“On our way to Lazarus’ tomb we stumble on still another question. Jesus approaches the gravesite with the full assurance that he will raise his friend from the dead. Why then does the sight of the tomb trouble him? Maybe the tomb in the garden is too graphic a reminder of Eden gone to seed. Of Paradise lost. And of the cold, dark tomb he would have to enter to regain it. In any case, it is remarkable that our plight could trouble his spirit; that our pain could summon his tears.

“The raising of Lazarus is the most daring and dramatic of all the Savior’s healings. He courageously went into a den where hostility raged against him to snatch a friend from the jaws of death. It was an incredible moment. It revealed that Jesus was who he said he was—the resurrection and the life. But it revealed something else. The tears of God. And who’s to say which is more incredible—a man who raises the dead…or a God who weeps?”

and this morning, as i sit here with so many things weighing on my heart, i cannot decide which Jesus i need more... the one who has the power to do anything, or the one who cares so deeply about us...

which is why it is so amazing that he is both. i never have to choose.

losing

it's movie night, and right now i have no clue what we will watch. what i do know is that we will each chocolate cream pie, and, given who is coming over, i know that we will laugh.

usually this is my least favorite saturday night of the year. it is the one where we lose an hour, and i really hate losing anything, especially time. but i love my friends, so technically, this cannot be my least favorite saturday night of the year. unless we end up watching a jim carey movie...

comfort & safety

at tonight's small group, we discussed chapter eight of crazy love, profile of the obsessed. the second point was one that we had a lengthy discussion on, and it still sticks in my mind. chan writes,

people who are obsessed with Jesus aren't consumed with their personal safety and comfort above all else. obsessed people care more about God's kingdom coming to this earth than their own lives being shielded from pain or distress.

do i care more about my personal safety than i do my discipleship? do i value discipleship over my comfort? sadly, the answer i would verbalize would be seldom seen in the way my life plays out.

we talked about safety from a traveling point of view, but for me, there are bigger issues that all stem back to fear. for instance, PORTICO is sending a missions team to poland this summer, and i have been considering my involvement on the team. it's been over four years since i did missions in poland, and the thought of helping a church plant that meets in cafes, just so much appeals to me!

but the fear somehow always creeps back in... regardless of how many missions trips i have been on and how God has provided, sometimes miraculously, to raise all the money necessary, i still fear that this will be the time it won't happen. and the truly crazy part is, that if someone were to share the same fear with me, i would be the first person to tell them that God always provides, that i've never seen someone, no matter how dire the situation, not get all their funding for a missions trip in all the years i've been doing them...and i would mean it for them, yet for me, i question, making the whole mission idea not a particularly safe one.

gary haugen's words from last year's leadership summit have been once again haunting me.

Jesus didn't come to make us safe, he came to make us brave.

if i am really honest, i don't want to live a life marked by safety. anyone can do that. anyone can only attempt what they can do in the physical. anyone can do something when the outcome is completely predictable. as appealing as 'safe' can be at times, for the most part, the idea is more revolting to me.

brave is definitely the more challenging of the options...

suddenly it was march...

Slayer of the winter, art thou here again?
O welcome, thou that bring'st the summer nigh!
The bitter wind makes not the victory vain.
Nor will we mock thee for thy faint blue sky.

{William Morris}