“For in Christ, there is no Jew or Greek, slave or free, Cubs or Sox…”  (Gal 3:28…ish)

Wore this outfit to a Sox/Royals game, Sox hat with a Cubs shirt…hoping for a protest from the crowd.  There was one guy who yelled, “Figure out which side of the fence you’re on!”  I told him I was sure I was on the right side. :)  Its interesting that over a hundred years ago, the Sox were the south side German Protestant team, and the Cubs were the north side Irish Catholic Team.  Somethings never change…but one day they will!

I’ve been thinking some about the an image that rolls well with how I believe church planters function.

An acupuncturist.

This eastern therapeutic technique specializes in improving circulation to all parts of the body, thus creating an increased ‘flow of energy’ that garners awareness, health, and growth.  In an acupuncturist church plant, the planter is focused on facilitating the “flow of energy” to all parts of the church body.  Giving each person and community ample growth and healthy energy for creativity and spiritual formation.  Good acupuncture is not invasive - it is tangential to the body itself - so with church planting - a church planter’s leadership must not be overbearing, and truly must find ways to stay out of the limelight to allow others in the church to step up.

Unfortunately, most “church plants” have been functionally more like surgery (or amputation) than acupuncture.  Most would call these “church splits”.  The body goes through trauma and must be intoxicated with numbing agents before, during, and after such drastic invasiveness.  It is never the same, and many times large parts of the body rot and leave scar tissue.

I don’t know if this metaphor can go on any longer, but at this hour I know I can’t.  Just thought I’d pass along my thoughts du jour.  Feel free to hyper-extend this metaphor for as long as you think it’ll go!

I honestly can’t tell you the full range of my emotions right now. Having just returned home from the Martin Luther King Jr. Tribute, I am overwhelmed.

The evening began fine enough, dinner with old friends and new, white and black. I saw simple graces exchanged; a smile from a black man to a white man, a firm handshake, sharing desserts. I reminded myself not to drift back into comfortable conversation with my white friends, but that this was a dinner that was for cultivating all relationships.

We met in a church’s lobby for dinner, then moved into their auditorium for a presentation. We began in worship, with voices from nearly every tongue, tribe, and race in Abilene, TX. It was a picture of Revelation 7, where all people come together under their love for a common Father. Powerful. Videos of King’s life and dream were presented. I promise you: if I listened to his words every day, my whole world would fall apart and a new, vibrant world of God would emerge.

Martin Luther King had a dream, but 40 years ago today, someone killed the dreamer. He was assassinated in Memphis, TN while calling for worker rights. He was shot in the jaw; as if to silence his mouth from uttering another word. But his dream lives on. His words can still be heard - they were heard again tonight.

King “had been to the Mountaintop,” and he had pointed to the Promised Land - a land where all peoples could live in harmony together. But we as a country and as a world have spent the last 40 years in the wilderness.

We did not believe his dream. Like so many prophets before him, King was silenced by a doubter, and we listened to the lies of the mob rather than the passionate cries of the preacher.

Our schools and churches are more segregated now than they were 40 years ago. They are filled with more fear and hate than they were 40 years ago. And maybe worst of all, King’s message has message has been tamed, and his memory is confined to the naming of bridges and streets - many of which subtly demarcate boundaries of class and race.

We now stand after 40 years in the wilderness at the edge of the Promised Land. Much like the Israelites, we have seen a generation pass since Dr. King’s blood mixed with the blood of Christ’s in the pool of martyrs and saints. Where is our courage? What are our next steps? Where do we go from here? Can we have the courage to go where Dr. King was leading us? Knowing that his path led to his death? When will we have the dream so clearly in our minds, that it won’t matter if we see that dream realized alive or dead? How can we non-violently resist the principalities and powers that assail our nation, our communities, our own selves?

One of my fellow graduate students, Kavian, (the only black male in the GST,) spoke at the Tribute. His words were bold and provocative. They tore at my heart. I repented of participating in a system of sin that is so completely fused into our society. I begged the Lord for forgiveness, and feeling his intimate love, asked him for the power to seek only peace in the midst of a world of swords. Afterward I approached Kavian, who was speaking with a black student I had met a few days earlier. Feeling the move of the Spirit, I asked their forgiveness, got down on my knees, and told them I was so proud to be considered their brother in Christ. Tears welled up in my eyes, and theirs.

I write these words to proclaim God’s power. Outside of anything we could’ve accomplished on our own power, God’s dream (spoken through King) was spied by my heart for just a moment tonight. If it cannot start tonight, it will never start. We can’t wait for another Martin Luther King Jr. The revolution of love must continue in you, in me, and continue in all of us.

We had a great Chicago mission team retreat over the weekend.  It gave us some new perspectives on our philosophy of “team” and I believe the Lord spoke to us through Kent Smith about the importance of putting first things first…

…Many of the passionate followers of Christ I have come across in America are avid ministers.  They pursue missions and ministry with all their heart.  They believe that we are to “love as we have been loved” and “love your neighbor as yourself.”  But strangely enough, it is not uncommon for these same well-intentioned disciples to end up losing their family, or hurting people for the sake of “ministry”.

Many others enter into a life of service to God and leadership among God’s people for the pursuit of true community.  They see God as the triune, perfect community, and they believe it is part of the Christian life to experience that same communion with brothers and sisters.  The only problem is, my definition of community is almost always incongruent with your definition of community!  Therefore we’re always fighting each other in order to obtain that ideal community that never really existed in the first place.

These two things - ministry and community, quickly become idols in the minds of many disciples of Christ.  They are important and godly, but they are not God himself.  There’s something more central that ties these two things together - IDENTITY.

Finding one’s true identity in Christ is essential to truly entering into meaningful ministry and community.  Jesus shows us this in his own life.  He is affirmed in who he is at his baptism BEFORE he does a single miracle, preaches a single sermon, or rounds up any disciples.  His Father says to him and to all others listening, “Behold, this is my son, I love him, and I am well pleased with him!“  What that would do for so many mission teams and even your average Christian if they knew that they were deeply loved by a Papa who knew them first and foremost as his beloved child; BEFORE they ever did anything for him.

But we can only find this identity when we are living in intimacy with Father.   Jesus found regular space in his life to connect and love his Father.  They loved each other uniquely, madly, and constantly.  It was out of this cultivated, intimate relationship that Jesus was able to find his identity, and participate in ministry and community in powerful ways.  Jesus says, “I only do what I see my Father doing.”

Alongside connecting one on one with Father, he found it helpful to hear the intimate words of his God through a band of brothers; Peter, James and John.  These guys knew Jesus inside and out - they spent more time with him than any of the other disciples, and saw him through thick and thin: the night he cried in the garden before he was betrayed, the mountain where he was transfigured into a glorious presence, and there for miracles of resurrection…

I know I’m desperate for this kind of fellowship.  I admit that its more elusive than I ever realized.  People…I…am far too selfish.  I don’t want to commit to anyone else - I want to be my own rugged cowboy, going it alone.  I pretend that I can hear God and participate in life with him all by myself - and that just isn’t true.  There are times…often…that I can’t hear from God.  That’s when I trust on brothers who’ve got my back and help me with the manna from heaven; God’s continual words of LIFE.  It feels as if this kind of community comes and then goes before you know it.  “Either you’re moving, or everyone else is moving around you,” a good friend of mine once said.  It’s sad but true.  I feel like this is a hinge point for North American missions.  If we can’t find meaningful ways of finding intimacy with Father, both on our own and with a small band of disciples, then we will fail.

Jesus’ intimacy with Father continued into a large, wildly diverse community.  The crowds, the disciples, the townsfolk that new him…they were a part of how Jesus connected with God.  This is the choir of coordinated voices singing their love song with God together.

But thank God, there was no formula - no set of principles for us Americans to decipher.  Jesus’ means of connecting with God and becoming intimate with him was in constant flux.  I’m guessing that that bible reading plan you started Jan 1st is already slacking.  Maybe God’s ready for you to find another way to connect with him.  Ride a bike, write a song, meet someone new.  Whatever it takes to find deep, lasting connection with your Creator Father.

Thanks to Kent for pointing some of this out to me.  It is a goal of mine to live in the reality of my own identity in God.  I pray that missions in my life will flow not out of a sense of ungodly jealousy or sense of guilt, but out of who I truly am, and my intimate connection with Father.

Thoughts on the diagram?  Others?

I just recently found the Reba Place Fellowship’s website online.  They are a community of about 35 up in Rogers Park and Evanston (in the midst of Chicago’s north side neighborhoods).  Holding a common treasury, and selling all they have to join the community - they are forever taken care of by the community and given a chance to live life together.

Onlookers watch as families work less, live more, and love more.  By sharing resources, they aren’t playing into the most fundamental element of capitalism: that we compete for resources at the expense of our souls.

I wish I had a video to embed right in this post; but its an RAM file, and I can’t for the life of me figure out how to lay it into my blog.  So - here’s a link to the video - a expose from a public Chicago: Money Matters news show exploring what sounds to me like, “Good News”.

 Click here for the video.