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.

I’ve been piled high with life (3x too much life to be precise…but that’s for another post). So until I get my head above ground, I’d love to let you peek into a Willow Creek Community Church (huge mega-church in Chicago) board room and hear just a little bit of what they’re discovering as they research and reflect the last 30 years of “seeker-sensitive” “program-driven” church and its effect on growing people into spiritual maturity:

From DisciplesFirst

Willow Creek Community Church, a mega-church of tens of thousands with a multi-million dollar budget and one of the first churches to promote being seeker-sensitive and to offer a program-driven, full-service approach to meeting the spiritual needs of people, has started rethinking what they’ve been doing for the last 30 years. They’ve discovered that “participation” in a packed schedule of church activities doesn’t mean people become real disciples (though it is one way to build a large institution). They are rediscovering the spiritual disciplines that cannot be programmed and staff-driven. They are discovering that creating the church version of a shopping mall doesn’t help people really become the committed disciples they had always sought nurture.

Bill Hybels calls this realization the “wake-up call of his adult life.” What Hybels says they are “pioneering” as personal spiritual life plans one might recognize as the ancient discipline of having a “rule of life.” I truly complement Willow Creek and its leadership on admitting when they discover that depth of spirituality is not what they are fostering, and wonder what the future of the mega-church movement holds when the initiator of it all begins to question the very essence of what they’ve been doing.

Maybe the American tendency to excess in everything has led us to morbidly obese congregations, too large for their own good. You can view a couple 13 minute videos by leaders from Willow Creek here.

What is happening in the Church when the pioneer of mega-church mentality is now discovering that what they had been creating in their members was not necessarily a life in union or intimacy with God, but avid attendees? I am truly thankful for the humble hearts in the WC leadership and pray that I can learn from that.

Joel News continues to inspire! Read this article below about the commitment of Chinese children to their LORD:

Sister Jing, who has taught children and trained Sunday school teachers all over China, shared the following inspiring account how children in one province in China stood firm in their faith when they were arrested by officials.

Sunday school was in full swing for more than 30 children when the sound of vehicles interrupted the class. Before the children even had time to put away their books, public Security Bureau officers burst into the room, confiscated ‘incriminating evidence’, and unceremoniously herded the children into a van.

By now the children knew what was happening. Their teachers had warned them it might happen one day and had taught them what to do. Now their time of testing had come.

As the van sped toward the police station, the children clung together to steady themselves. Then one child started singing. Before long, the van was filled with song as all the children enthusiastically joined in - much to the annoyance of the officials in the van.

Upon arrival at the police station, the children marched bravely into the interrogation room still singing, “In the name of Jesus, we have the victory.”

This was not the cowering group of children the police interrogator had anticipated! He began to threaten the children, telling them they would have to write “I do not believe in Jesus” one hundred times before he would release them. Instead, the defiant children wrote, “I believe in Jesus today. I will believe in Jesus tomorrow. I will believe in Jesus forever!”

Unprepared for such a strong stand from young school children, the officials weren’t sure how to respond. In exasperation, they called the children’s parents. When the parents arrived, they were told the children would be released only if the parents said they were not Christians. Because many of the parents were not believers, they readily affirmed they didn’t believe in Jesus and took their children home.

But when a widowed believer came to pick up her twin sons, she refused to deny Jesus. The officers threatened her, “If you do not deny Jesus, we will not release your sons!” Unshaken, the widow replied, “Well, I guess you will just have to keep them, because without Jesus, there would be no way for me to take care of them!” Exasperated by continued, unexpected resistance to their threats, the officials said in disgust, “Take your sons and go!”

We thank God for stories like this because we know that children are the future of the Church.

As we enter into Holy Week, I suppose I’ll spend this post just writing a few reflections on my Lenten season!

For the past six weeks, I’ve been on an oil fast, meaning that anything associated with crude oil or fossil fuels are off the menu.  Its been interesting to see just how pervasive gasoline, coal and other toxic elements I, and so many Americans, consume on a regular basis.  We are responsible for 25% of the entire world’s contributions to pollution.  Whether we like it or not, we are on a collision course with a global crisis, and America is the one in the driver’s seat.

It was easy switching my apartment’s power to solar/wind energy.  I signed up with Commerce Energy and got hooked up with a “100% Free and Clear” Plan (sounds like a cell phone service or something) that juices us up with only local wind and solar energy, while remaining on “the grid” (so people won’t call us hippies).

We bought tons of those energy saving bulbs, applied some new weather stripping to our doors, put in a automatic thermostat (then turned it off completely as the weather got nicer), and lowered the temperature of our water heater to 90 degrees.  These things seemed to keep our energy use (and our bill) low, keeping our green energy company in the poor house!

The most obvious impact it made on my life was on my driving.  I am the primary driver of our one car, but for these last 6 weeks, I have been hitching rides with friends.  When Trina is heading somewhere, I sit in the passenger seat and come along for the ride.  Admittedly, there are probably a few loopholes in this strategy I could’ve taken advantage of (and may have a time or two when I really wanted a smoothie on the other side of town!), but I tried my very best to cut my travel way down during this season.  I noticed that in the month of March we had cut our gasoline bill down to 40% of what we normally spend, which is a good sign that this was actually making a difference.

Twice I made out of town trips with miles that equaled close to 600 miles (one to Austin, and one to Abilene State Park).  For awhile I really didn’t know what to do, but then discovered Trees for the Future.  Its a pretty neat organization, which helps developing villages plant trees, giving them many of the resources they need for sustainability, as well working towards a “global cooling” initiative.  I made a contribution to cover not only the miles I drove during Lent, but since each tree only cost $0.10, I “planted” enough to cover every mile our car will ever drive!

Honestly, I know that I wasn’t perfect in keeping my commitment to an oil fast, but as this holy season comes to a close, I feel as if I have communicated to God through my actions (rather than just my words) that his creation matters to me - and that his creation’s future is something I have the power to influence.

If anyone is united in Christ, there is a “new creation” (2Cor 5:17) - for me, this verse not only means a new creation in myself, but truly a return to the Garden - where God walks with man in the cool of the evening.  We, like the earth itself, are god grown.

I can’t believe it.  In less than 12 hours we moved all our stuff from one place to the next, and assembled everything we purchased from IKEA…I suppose the help from 15 friends throughout our various walks in Abilene of life didn’t impede our progress!  I am thankful to all of you who helped us move all our stuff!

Already I am seeing a change in our lifestyle since moving toward a missional lifestyle in a district of town known for poverty and homelessness.  I am walking and riding my bike more.  I am seeing faces that look very different from my own.  I am praying for sidewalks and streets.  In general it seems our new locale forces me to be aware of “the others” (yeah, I’ve been watching Lost and I’m proud of it!) that now live around me…or should I say, that I now live around.
Sort of interesting; I find that I am fearful of these “others”.  What has happened to me to make me afraid of anyone different from me?  Just because I see you digging in the trash, or wearing a black, rugged face doesn’t say anything about your heart; what God cares about most!  So why do I worry about what that man at the corner might do to me while I am waiting for the light to turn green?  Why do I check my door to make sure it’s locked?  Why do I look behind me as I ride my bike at night through the neighborhood?  When did I develop this fear?

I don’t remember always having it.  I’ve always had a very diverse group of friends.  Friends that come from all over the world, and many walks of life.  But never poor friends.  Never drug addicts.  Never those who seem mentally insane.  These are my neighbors now.  These will be my friends.  I choose not to fear them - I choose to understand them.  Like it or not, we are living together, and I want to incarnate the Gospel in their midst.

What will that look like?  I can’t be afraid of them.  I can’t be afraid of it.  I will let the Gospel rule.  I will let love rule.

I want to see lives changed.  I want to see my own life changed.  I need humility.  I live among the largest church buildings in the city, and as I walk through their crowded parking lots on Sunday morning, I notice a man digging through a dumpster.

What is he looking for?  What am I looking for?

I pray for his humility.