Ways that Jesus is the Way

Book three. Done.

I've been negligent about posting because I've been reading. A few days ago I finished my third book in Eugene Peterson's five-volume spiritual theology series: The Jesus Way. If you're keeping track, I'm not reading them in order.

Weighing in at just under 300 pages, The Jesus Way not light reading.

In the book, Peterson begins with Jesus. He then examines many of the great Old Testament characters and how they prepared the way for Jesus. The closing chapters examine three New Testament figures that interacted with Jesus: Herod the political leader, Caiaphas the priest, and Josephus the Jewish historian. None of these men followed Jesus. Actually, they set up systems in direct opposition to the Jesus Way. Yet their ways are still evident today.

One of the most insightful and intriguing illustrations Peterson paints comes near the end of the book. He refers to the ways the Pharisees ended up becoming consumed with the details of religiosity while while neglecting the grandeur and beauty of God. It's a slippery slope we've all encountered. Here's what he writes:

"Imagine yourself moving into a house with a huge picture window overlooking a lake with a grand view of mountains beyond. Snow-capped mountains, beautiful mountains. You have a ringside seat, before all of this beauty, the cloud formations, the wild storms, the entire spectrum of sun- illuminated colors, and the rocks and the trees and the wildflowers and the water. At first you’re just captivated by this view. You sit and you stand and you look and admire; you catch your breath. Several times a day you interrupt your work and stand before this window to take in the majesty and the beauty. And then one day you notice some bird droppings on the glass, and you get a bucket of water and a towel and you clean it. A couple of days later, a rainstorm leaves the window streaked and the bucket comes out again. One day some visitors with a tribe of small dirty-fingered children come, and the moment they leave you notice there are smudge marks all over the window. They’re hardly out of the door before you have the bucket out again. You’re so proud of that window, and it’s such a large window. But it’s incredible how many different ways foreign objects can attach themselves to that window, obscuring the vision, distracting from the vision. Keeping that window clean now becomes compulsive neurosis. You accumulate ladders and buckets and squeegees. You construct scaffolding outside and one inside; you have to get to all the difficult corners and heights. You end up having the cleanest window in North America, but it’s now been years since you’ve looked through it. You’ve become a Pharisee." (Peterson, The Jesus Way, 211)

I've obsessed over many windows in my lifetime. But none more than the church. The church is a beautiful example of a window through which people see God. Sometimes I obsess over it instead of looking through it to see the beauty and splendour of God. It constantly gets dirty and needs to be cared for. But it's no picture of beauty in and of itself. It's what people see when they look through it that should take their breath away.

Does Jesus care about kids' sandals?

My family is headed to a wedding this afternoon.

So, the hunt was on for Elijah's missing dress sandal. It vanished a couple of months ago and he's been wearing his little orange Crocs for every occasion since.

After scouring the house for 45mins I said to Elijah, "let's ask Jesus to help us find your sandal."

And that's what we did. There was nothing profound or magical about our prayer but within 5 mins we had our hands on the missing sandal.

Thank-you Jesus.

Workaholic or sloth?

I think laziness and workaholism are two sides of the same coin. Both are equally dangerous.

Slothfulness is a lifestyle of perpetual leisure and rest. Those who engage in it don't have time for work because they are too busy taking life easy.

Workaholics are compulsive in accomplishing tasks. Their days are spent 'doing' something, anything; they avoid rest and sabbath being perpetually busy with work. They steer clear of rest for one of two reasons: 1. They fear that others will perceive them as slothful or 2. They fear solitude, contemplation, and the voice within.

I think the biblical model is somewhere in between workaholism and sloth. It's a rhythm of engagement and disengagement; it's a movement between work, play and rest that results in productivity and efficiency when working and, conversely, peace and joy when resting and playing.

Want to know if you've got the balance right? If you spend your days off thinking about work or your working days thinking about time off, you likely need some adjustments.

Leadership and Relationship

Leadership rises and falls on relationship.

Nowhere is that more true than at home. Tonight, after supper, I walked upstairs to change my clothes. Close behind I heard the thumping feet of my five-year-old boy. He was following me. While I slipped on a pair of shorts and a t-shirt he hopped up on our bed and spilled the beans about his day. I learned about how his sister soaked him with the hose and how he got to play the Wii, not once but twice!

Moments later a spontaneous game of "betcha can't get off the bed" erupted. I did my best to restrain and tickle him into submission, hoping to keep him on the bed, while he wiggled and squirmed his way toward the carpet. It didn't take too many little boy squeals to bring my eight-year-old daughter running into the room to see what she was missing. Soon she too was twisted up and laughing right in the middle of everything.

I think that's the heart of leadership. Being able to listen, laugh, and play in a way that draws people into a community of laughter and freedom.

Don't get me wrong, I know life offers it's fair share of pain and disappointment. But somehow I think all that is more tolerable in the midst of a community where leaders know how to listen, play and celebrate in a way that offers safety and protection. I'll likely never play daddy games with my congregation but I hope my commitment to listen and relate to them, and my family, never wanes.

Sabbath

Sabbath. Do you take one?

That was the topic of conversation around the staff meeting table this morning. I brought a book I picked up this weekend called, Sabbath by Dan Allender. It's part of the Ancient Practices series of books edited by Phyllis Tickle.

Allender writes, "We live in a dark day, but it is still rare for someone to publically tout his or her violation of the Ten Commandments, with one exception--our debasement with busyness. We love to tell others how much we work, how much we still have to get done, and how overwhelmed we are with the exhaustion of our labour. We admire busyness, speed and productivity, yet we envy those whose leisure time is abundant. We are mad, crazy mad--and we know it. To write another book on the need for margins seems at best superfluous and, at worst, avoiding what most needs to be said: Sabbath rest is not an option; it is a command."

So, when's your sabbath?

I take a mini-sabbath every Thursday afternoon. I've reserved that time for family. It's not always easy to walk past other staff members, through a long line of parishioners, and out the door of our busy church in order to drive home to rest, play and enjoy my family. But, then again, no one ever said sabbath would be easy.

Telling it Slant

I'm finished the second book.

A while ago I committed myself to reading Eugene Peterson's colossal five volume spiritual theology series. Tonight I finished Tell it Slant: a conversation on the language of Jesus in his stories and prayers.

Two pages from the end my mind flipped back to my weekend experience. Here's what happened.

As many of you know it's unusual for me to sit in an unfamiliar pew but I've been on holidays. I embraced the rare opportunity to visit a small, rural church. As the pastor rose to speak, I prepared myself for a barrage of local jargon and inside jokes. To my surprise, the dialect was formal, religious and propped up by cliches like, "entering the waters of baptism" and "extending the right hand of fellowship". Now, I've been to Bible College and Seminary. I have a pretty good grasp on church words. But, after reflection, I still don't know what "the right hand of fellowship" means.

Here's a secret: I've been there. I sometimes use religious cliches when I haven't adequately prepared and I want to say the right things. I've even apologized to a worship team after bowing with them and proceeding to string together cliche after cliche to form a fine sounding prayer. We don't use religious jargon while barbecuing or picking up packages at the post office, so why do we use it on Sunday mornings?

Two pages from the end of Tell it Slant Peterson writes, "I want to eliminate the bilingualism that we either grow up with or acquire along the way of growing up: one language for talking about God and the things of God, salvation, and Jesus, singing hymns and going to church; another language we become proficient in as we attend school, get jobs, play ball, go to dances, and buy potatoes and blue jeans. One language for religion and another for everything else, each with its own vocabulary and tone of voice. I want to break down the walls of partition that separate matters of God and prayer from matters of getting food on the table and making a living." (Peterson, Tell it Slant, 267.)

I'm with Eugene Peterson on this one.

Domestic lesson #2: When the cat stays outside

Our cat lives outside. Except for the winter when she sleeps in the garage.

But lately, even when the sun is shining and the thermometer is above freezing, Tiger is coming in the house.

Maybe it's because our daughter adores her. Or maybe it's because we take pity on her for having to sit outside on a rainy day (the cat, not our daughter). Perhaps it's because her food dish comes inside at night, and we forget to put it out in the morning.

Usually, I'm okay with it. But there is one time when it's never okay for kitty to enter through the patio door...