Kyle's Church Blog

Why I am going to try to spend only $5/day on food next week.

Next week, I’m going to try to live off of $5/ day for food.

Why?

Well, because a bunch of us from Grace Mennonite Church are, that’s why.

Why are a bunch of us from Grace going to spend just $5/day on food?

Good question.

1) To raise awareness: $5/day is more than a single person on income assistance in Manitoba receives. They get just $3.96/day. Over the past several weeks, I’ve shared that number with a lot of people. The responses I have received have been priceless. People’s jaws have dropped, they’ve exclaimed “What!?!?!?”, and they’ve scrunched their eyebrows as they quickly calculated their last grocery bill (or Tim Horton’s run). On this count, we’ve been successful at raising awareness, as more people have told me why they CAN’T participate than why they can (usually for good reasons), but they are wishing me all the best and pointing out the best deals on food (thanks!).

2) Help us understand the realities many people face: Most of us participating in this challenge are not financially challenged. So while we all mean well, most of us simply don’t understand what’s it’s like to eat less, eat less healthy, and to spend so much energy thinking about what we’re going to eat. Jesus says a lot about living with and loving people who are “poor”. It’s probably a good time for some of us to try to understand a different reality.

3) To be better advocates: We understand that talking to government officials and/or business owners isn’t always easy. And we also understand real change is slow and messy. But at least we’ll be able to say: “Hey. Let’s talk about minimum wage and affordable housing not only in terms of economics, but also in terms of food accessibility and food bills.”

4) To examine our own decisions regarding our money and consumption patterns: In a world of plenty, we often don’t think much about where we are spending our money. How much do we actually need? Can we eat healthy with less money? Can people tell that I follow Jesus by my credit card statement?

5) It’s a spiritual discipline. For thousands of years, people have fasted. By being intentional about how much we consume, we’ll hopefully become more aware of God’s presence, both in our plenty and in our need.

So that’s why I’m going to try live off of $5/day. Feel free to join us, wherever you are. (And seriously, we’re not legalistic here… If you can’t do 5 days, do as much as you can. If you can’t do $5, do as little as you can. Our church’s name is Grace for Pete’s sake.) If you want to sign-up (or wish us well), click here and leave a comment!

Kyle

Christmas Commericals, Congo, and Fists.

We just heard the story of Stephen, the first Christian martyr who died for his faith.

Audrey was looking for bulletin cover material, and this is what we decided not to use:

Getting stoned for a simply preaching a sermon is pretty intense persecution, if you ask me. But, as a follower of Jesus, I guess he expected it, because Jesus said,

“Blessed are those who are persecuted because of righteousness, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when people insult you, persecute you and falsely say all kinds of evil against you because of me. Rejoice and be glad, because great is your reward in heaven, for in the same way they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” Matthew 5:10-12.

Fast forward to present day.

Every year at Christmas, we all receive Christmas cards from political leaders and businesses, and we all are bombarded with ads to go and buy stuff. But recently, if you listen carefully, it’s quite interesting to see who uses the word “Christmas”, such as “We are wishing you a Merry Christmas!”, and who uses a more generic greeting with the word “Holiday” or “Season”. Examples include “Happy Holidays!” or “May the Spirit of the Season fill you with all the good things you can imagine.” Or something awesome like that.

Historically, most people in Canada have identified themselves as Christian, so the word “Christmas” was acceptable. Now, we are a little more diverse, so people are a little more cautious to use that word. I understand that.

But what’s really funny is that some people who identify themselves as Christians get really excited and worked up about people not using the word Christmas. We see posts on social media about keeping Christ in Christmas, and Jesus is the reason for the season, and most of them involve bearded guys from Duck Dynasty (please, Christianity needs better spokespeople than the Duck Dynasty dudes). Some people have even called it a War on Christmas. And it doesn’t really happen up here in Canada, as we’re a little more chill, but In the States, there are actually efforts to boycott the stores that don’t use the word Christmas. And much of this is rooted in this idea that Christians are being persecuted for their faith.

Very bluntly, claiming persecution because people don’t use the word Christmas is a bunch of hogwash. Stephen having rocks thrown at his head? That’s persecution. Listening to an ad on the radio wishing me a safe and happy holidays? Not so much.

So why do some of us care so much about cards and advertising at Christmas? Why are some of us so quick to claim persecution when clearly we’re not in jail, our lives aren’t at risk, and we still receive charitable tax receipts when we give money to our church?

Father Thomas Keating, an American monk, describes three “programs for happiness” which are all a part of our inner landscape. The apostle Paul calls them the “old self”. Some theologians call it “the false self”. Whatever we call them, they are deep within us.

Our need for security and survival.

Our need for affection and esteem.

Our need for power and control.

These programs of happiness are sometimes hidden so deep within us that we often don’t see how they are driving our actions. In the pursuit of happiness for ourselves, our family, our “tribe”, we often seek these programs, and often at horrific costs.

Do you see Christmas commercials in there?

Our need for security and survival. If we can’t use the word Christmas, we’re doomed!

The need for affection and esteem. If I don’t hear the word Christmas, do people not like me because I’m a Christian?

The need for power and control. Who’s protecting my rights and privileges?

Ah… So the conflict really isn’t over Christmas advertising. The conflict is over our souls. Well, now those Facebook posts make a lot more sense, don’t they?

And these programs for happiness are inside all of us. Christian, atheist, “none”, liberal, conservative, rich, poor… All of us.

When we believe that happiness comes through power, control, affection, esteem, survival and security, we’ll probably do all sorts of well meaning things to get that happiness.

Like stone people.

That was a leap, wasn’t it?

But maybe not…

Here’s the story on Stephen. He was chosen to serve food to the widows in Jerusalem. Between feeding the hungry, and new people choosing to follow Jesus, this Jesus movement was gaining steam. The religious and political leaders felt like they weren’t in control anymore, so they worked very hard to get Stephen killed. And after Stephen called them stiff-necked and accused them of disobeying the law, they dragged him out of court and killed him.

Stephen struck a cord with them. He named their programs for happiness, their need for power and control, their need for affection and esteem, their need for security and survival. He was a threat to their happiness, so they eliminated him. I guess they could have just boycotted his store and signed an online petition, but the rocks were really handy.

It’s often easy for us to distance ourselves from rock throwers or religious fundamentalists… We’re not like that. But when we start thinking of it in terms of defending our programs for happiness, I wonder how different we really are…

The following is an conversation between Donald Miller and his friend Tony, in the book Blue Like Jazz. I read it 10 years ago, and it has still stuck with me.

“It’s terrible,” I told him. “In the Congo, two and a half million people, dead. In one village they interviewed about fifty or so women. All of there had been raped, most of them numerous times.”

Tony shook his head. “That is amazing. It is so difficult to even process how things like that can happen.”

“I know. I can’t get my mind around it. I keep wondering how people could do things like that.”

“Do you think you could do something like that, Don?” Tony looked at me pretty seriously. I honestly couldn’t believe he was asking the question.

“What are you talking about?” I asked.

“Are you capable of murder or rape or any of the stuff that is taking place over there?”

“No.”

“So you are not capable of any of those things?” he asked again. He packed his pipe and looked at me to confirm my answer,

“No, I couldn’t,” I told him. “What are you getting at?”

I just want to know what makes those guys over there any different from you and me. They are human. We are human. Why are we any better than them, you know?”

Tony had me on this one. If I answered his question by saying yes, I could commit those atrocities, that would make me evil, but if I answered no, it would suggest I believed I am better evolved than some of the men in the Congo. And then I would have some explaining to do.

“You believe we are capable of those things, don’t you, Tony?”

He lit his pipe and breathed in until the tobacco glowed orange and let out a cloud of smoke. “I think so, Don. I don’t know how else to answer the question.”

I wonder what we would do if we had stones that were readily available? Are we that different from anybody else? What are we clinging to that gets us riled up?

I had a fascinating conversation with 2 remarkably self-aware teenagers 2 weeks ago, and they asked me a question. They noticed something in their lives that, when they saw it, felt the hatred rise up in them. In my opinion, they had good reason to be frustrated, but they didn’t want to let those feelings consume them and dictate their attitudes and actions.

Remarkably self aware high school students. They’ll turn out just fine as adults.

My response was that often, we come at life with fists clenched. We’re holding on to something, we’re defending something , we’re clinging on to something. It could be our possessions, our programs for happiness, our need to be right, our anger, our desire for revenge. The first part is naming our clenched fists. And the second part is opening them.

I think the spiritual life is actually one of opening our hands before God, of letting go, of “slowly relaxing the tension which squeezes your hands together and accepting our existence with an increasing readiness, not as a possession to defend, but as a gift to receive.” (Henri Nouwen in Open Hands)

read a great book a decade ago (A New Kind of Christian, by Brian Mclaren) that says churches are really good at telling people what to do, but often do a terrible job at doing it with them.

And so, today, we’re going to spend a few minutes unclenching our fists…

If you’re able to, sit up straight and put your feet flat on the floor.

Think back over the past week. When you get to something that caused you frustration, that made you angry, clench your fists.

Let’s pray:

Dear God,

I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!

Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?

Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?

Please help me to gradually open my hands and to discover that I am not what I own, but what you want to give me.

And what you want to give me is love – unconditional, everlasting love.

As you let go of what you’re clenching, slowly open your hands as if you’re receiving a gift. A gift of unconditional, everlasting love.

Amen.

(Thanks to Henri Nouwen and Garth Friesen for this prayer).

2051, Getting the Mail, and Ferraris – The Facade of Unity

In the book of Acts, you have stories of the first new followers of post-resurrection Jesus, the first stories of mass conversions, and the first stories about people gathering as the church.

Sometimes, those of us in churchy world look to this story as a foundational story. We look to how the early church behaved and said, “We should be like that! They were all on the same page. They had unity!”

And then we look at what they did and say: “We can do it too! We can repent and be baptized and believe that Jesus is Lord! We can devote ourselves to the apostles teaching and to fellowship, to breaking bread and to prayer. We can do all those things! We might not gain thousands of new people join our church in a day, but hey, we can be faithful and do what we’re supposed to do.

And then we come across these sentences: “All the believers were together and had everything in common. They sold property and possessions to give to anyone who had need.”

Errr…. Yeah, about that one.

But, we’re generous, right? We give money to the church, we give money to organizations building wells around the world, we sponsor kids to go to school, we send money when there’s a natural disaster… But, I will venture to say almost none of us sell our property and possessions and give to anyone in need, and none of us hold everything in common with other followers of Jesus here at Grace.

We just kind of want to be a bit like the first church, not 100% like it.

I was pondering this text this week, and I got to thinking about my own finances. Ash and I are like many of you, and through our jobs we have pension plans to plan for retirement. I think our retirement date is something ridiculous like 2051, but hey, save when you’re young! Ash and I are also like many of you and we have small children. So every month we squirrel away some money for to put into an RESP for our kids, because I’m sure the cost of university tuition will be something ridiculously high in 2028, when Arianna graduates from high school. Let alone how much weddings will cost in 20 years.

So, I was pondering this text, and I’m supposed to share my retirement money and my kids’ education money with anyone who has need? Ha! Right. That’s funny. No. Actually, my exact words were “Get your dirty paws off my kids’ tuition.” I’m going to be generous and give money where I can, but nobody’s touching my kids education money. And I’m definitely not selling my house, thank you very much.

Now, one of you may come along and tell me, “Look! The Bible says that we should do this! The first church did it! Even Jesus says so when he tells the rich young ruler to sell all his possessions and give to the poor!”

If one of you theoretically said this to me, I’d probably get defensive and say: “That doesn’t apply to me! You’re interpreting Scripture wrong! I give money here and here and here, and I give my time, and I even gave someone a ride to the doctor this one time!”

And then the response might be: “But you could be doing more! You could be giving more! You could be more holy!”

And now theoretical me and theoretical you are in a theoretical shouting match as to what we’re supposed to believe and how we’re supposed to live. Sounds like fun, right?

Now, conventional wisdom would say this: If everyone would just agree, then we’d have unity. If we all agreed that we’re supposed to sell our houses and give to the poor, or if we all agreed that we can own houses and still be faithful, then we’d all be on the same page and we’d have unity.

But this doesn’t happen. Well, it might actually happen with us not selling our houses, but in reality, I think we’re all over the place with what we believe and how we live.

Some of us give a certain percentage of our money away. Some give more. Some give less. We’re all over the map.

Some of us are concerned about the increasing militarization of Canada. Others of us, not so much.

Some of us believe in a traditional doctrine of hell. Others of us are okay questioning it.

Some of us believe that we need to be better stewards of the Earth, we so bike places. Others of us drive in our SUVs to get the mail.

Heck, unity is hard enough between a married couple, let alone a family, or even a larger community.

I think, though, that what usually happens is that we simply don’t talk about all the disunity. We don’t want to upset the apple cart. And I get it.

Mel and Audrey and I were talking this week, and we all decided that we weren’t 100% honest in our relationships with our partners. We choose to bite our tongues quite often for the sake of unity. And that’s usually a good thing. Living our lives in constant conflict, or always nagging our each other isn’t very much fun. But we did acknowledge that we do try to live together and love each other, even when we know we disasgree.

I sometimes call this the facade of unity. We act like that we’re all on the page, that we all believe a certain thing, that we all act a certain way, but in reality, we know that’s not the case. Usually, what happens is the people who hold the minority view point choose to keep quiet. And we do this is all our relationships.

And this isn’t always a bad thing. We all have beliefs and actions that we can put into the categories of essential or non-essential, core or peripheral.

For example, CFL kickoff is starting soon, and so we have to start making some football jokes. Ash is a Roughrider fan, and I am a Blue Bombers fan, and our teams are bitter rivals. One time, someone asked us how in the world we could be married to each other and cheer for rival teams. My answer was: “Well, I made a top 10 list of things I wanted in a spouse, and CFL team preference didn’t quite crack the list.”

But what happens if we disagree? How do we find unity in the face of disunity? (Mel did tell me this week that I’m kind of ruining a great text. The first believers, as we read, WERE on the same page. They were of one mind. But it didn’t last very long. And here I am already jumping ahead, skipping the good stories and focusing on when it all comes apart. Sorry about that.)

But here’s a story that has stuck with me.

One of my spiritual director friends was staying at a monastery in California. The monks there had all taken vows of poverty, they owned nothing, held everything in common, and worked tireless for the poor of their city. In some ways, they were very much like the first believers.

And then, one day, they received a visitor. He drove up in a bright red Ferrari. And 2 monks went out to greet him.

On one side, vow of poverty and service. On the other, hundreds of thousands of dollars spent as one of most flagrant displays of unnecessary wealth in our capitalistic society.

The monks spoke first.

“Wow. Nice car. Can you pop the hood?”

My friend couldn’t believe it. Here, you had two diametrically opposing worldviews, and there was no condemnation from one to the other. In fact, they were celebrating the beauty of the car, which is a fairly adequate symbol for what the monks consciously rejected.

They were unified about the beauty of the car. But not the ideologies or worldviews or belief systems behind it.

Unity in the midst of disunity.

How do we live together when we disagree? How do we have unity in the face of disunity?

Sometimes, in churchy world, we have this phrase, or cliché, that we’ve developed on how to live together when we disagree. Sometimes we say, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” You may have heard it. It’s meant well, but often it comes across like naming what we think is sin someone else’s life and telling them to go and fix it. Some people might it telling the truth in love, others may call it judging. It’s like telling the guy with the car, “I love you, but that Ferrari is sin.” I heard it said once that every time we use the word “but” in a sentence, it’s like we cancel out everything said before it. “I love you, but” sounds an awful like conditional love to me.

I actually think the phrase it’s a bunch of malarkey and quite unhelpful. And I think I’m being generous with my words. Jesus never said, “Love the sinner, hate the sin.” Jesus said, “Love the sinner and deal with your own sin. After you’ve dealt with your own sin, then you can deal with your neighbours.” If you are wondering where in the Bible it says that, it’s a paraphrase of Matthew 7 by Tony Campolo.

³“Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother’s eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? ⁴How can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? ⁵You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother’s eye.”

Love the sinner, hate your own sin.

This is one of the reasons why I love being part of a faith community that centers itself on following Jesus. Our job isn’t to offer judgement towards the people who own Ferraris, although I often do. Our job is to name and work on the greed in our own hearts. Because I can’t control what other people believe or do. I can’t control what you do or believe, and you can’t control what I do or believe. Heck, I can’t even control what my kids do, and they’re 1 and 3 years old.

But I can always, always tap into what’s going on inside of me.

And here’s what I like about working on my own soul… To the degree that we are transformed, the world will be transformed. To the degree that we are healed, the world is healed.

Maybe unity isn’t that far off after all.

Jesus, help us live in peace.
From our blindness set us free.
Fill us with your healing love.
Help us live in unity.

Many times we don’t agree
on what’s right or wrong to do.
It’s so hard to really see
from the other’s point of view.

Jesus, help us live in peace.

Palm Sunday – Encountering God in our Praise

The following was preached on April 13, 2014 at Grace Mennonite Church, based on Matthew 21:1-11.

________________________________________

Today, we give praise to somebody who rides in on a donkey. If it’s a Stanley Cup parade or Grey Cup parade (which we haven’t seen for a while in these parts), we’d expect to see convertibles or SUV’s with people hanging out of the sunroofs. If it’s the Steinbach parade, we’d expect to see tractors and nice pick-up trucks and people chucking candy everywhere. And If it was Carnival in Brazil or Mardi Gras in New Orleans… well, we’d see a lot of things we wouldn’t see in the Steinbach parade.

But here we are. Gathering every year on Palm Sunday to give praise to someone riding a donkey.

The crowds went ahead with their palms and their blankets, shouting “Hosanna” and “Blessed is the one who comes in the name of the Lord!”

In the Old Testament reading, Hosanna meant, Save Us! Save us! This is what Canadian hockey fans feel like when 6 of the 7 teams don’t make the playoffs. Somebody come and do something! Come home Jonathon Toews! We need help!

And then, though, by the time we read people shouting Hosanna in the New Testament, it’s come to mean something a bit different. It had come to mean, Salvation has come! We are saved! Salvation is here!

It had changed from a plea to a proclamation. And it certainly got people’s attention.

Matthew records that the whole city asking, “Who is this?”

And the crowds answered, “This is Jesus, the prophet from Nazareth.”

When people praise Jesus, when people proclaim that Jesus has saved them, when people worship Jesus, I think they are doing two incredibly counter-cultural revolutionary things.

The first, is that they are admitting that there is a higher source of authority than themselves. This runs right against the grain of our culture. We look out for number one, we decide what’s right and wrong, we believe that the governments should do the will of the people, we are the number one authority in the world.

But when we praise Jesus, when we proclaim that Jesus is Lord and Saviour, we willingly put our lives into the trust of someone else. And this someone else doesn’t ask us to behave the same way that most authorities ask us to behave. Most authorities, especially governments, are almost entirely self-serving and concerned about their own interests. But putting your trust in someone or something else that asks us to die to ourselves for the sake of others is quite dangerous to self-serving interests.

It’s this kind of proclamation that made the Roman government hate early Christians. If they weren’t willing to fight for Cesar, if parents weren’t willing to send their children off to war, if the Jesus followers were seeking ways to go and love their enemies, if the government says “Jump” and the Christians didn’t say “How high?”, it was going to be awfully difficult to maintain an empire built on violence and intimidation.

Putting our trust in a higher power than ourselves is remarkably counter-cultural.

And the second thing that’s counter-cultural about praising Jesus is that it demands a certain amount of surrender on our part. It admits giving consent to God to use us as God sees fit.

Now, on one hand, we are quite okay with this language. We can say identify with the quote of Mother Teresa, saying, “I’m a little pencil in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.” We are giving consent to God to use us.

But, on the other hand, we are not always okay with this language. People can do all sorts of terrible things and hide behind God, or God language. Claiming God’s will has justified violence, oppression, stupidity, and, at its worst, teenager heartache… “God told me to break up with you.”

A while ago, I was having a great conversation with a friend who wouldn’t identify themselves as being a Christian, and might even probably think that I am dumb for claiming to be a Christian. We were kindly batting around ideas about why or why not faith is important, if it’s good or bad, and at one point I said,

“You know, one of the reasons why I like being a follower of Jesus is that sometimes, some of the things that we do don’t make sense. Loving our enemies, caring for the least of these, giving money to a church community, working towards reconciliation… The fact that these are so irrational and against our “survival of the fittest” approach to life gives me confidence in Jesus and there’s something to unique here.”

His response was so great, that I asked permission to share it in a sermon one day. He said, “Oh great. That’s just what we need. More people walking around doing stupid things and then claiming they’re right because God told them so.”

I laughed. I said, “Yeah. You’re right. But as long as the stupid things I am doing are rooted in non-violent unconditional love for others, I think I’m on solid ground.”

Giving praise to Jesus means surrendering ourselves to being little pencils in the hand of a writing God, who is sending a love letter to the world.

This whole praising Jesus thing is quite counter-cultural.

We encounter God through praise because when we proclaim that Jesus has saved us, we acknowledge there is a higher authority than us, and we give that authority the right to dictate how we live.

___________

And here’s the great thing about giving praise to Jesus. It’s circular. It’s a cycle.

By giving praise, you are giving authority and consent to God. And by giving consent to God, you are opening yourself to love. And by opening yourself to love, you glimpse the reality of God. And if you glimpse the reality of God, you end up giving praise. It’s kind of fun, actually.

Where you enter this cycle doesn’t really matter. For some of us, we enter by giving praise – through singing, or praying, through shouting on the rooftops, or simply sitting in silence.

For others of us, we enter by being open and aware and mindful of the world in front of us, and by quietly saying yes to God in the hope that we will be loving.

And still for others of us, we enter when we get the chance to be a little pencil in the hands of a God who proclaims good news to the poor, freedom for the prisoners, recovery of sight to the blind, and freedom to the oppressed. When we share our lives, our money, our homes… When we work towards ending homelessness or providing shelter for victims of domestic violence, or towards reconciliation between First Nation and Settler peoples… When we spend time with the people on the margins with the only thing on agenda being love, when we choose to deeply love our neighbours, we enter this cycle.

And still for others, when we’re able to look back over a day, a week, a year, a lifetime… When we’re able to look around us, when we’re able to see love around us and how we are a part of it, when we can look and see God’s presence in all that was given, both good and bad, we enter this cycle.

This Palm Sunday, my prayer is that we will enter this cycle of praise somewhere, somehow.

May we give praise to the one who saves us from our sin and shows us how to live and shows us how to love.

May we give consent to being God’s hands and God’s feet as we seek to love our neighbours.

And may we offer even more praise when we glimpse the reality of God.

Amen.

On World Vision, Taking Your Ball and Going Home, and Love

What a mess.

So World Vision changes their policy saying they will hire GLBTQ Christians who are married.

And then a bunch of people (mostly conservative, evangelical, Christians) get upset and threaten (or actually do) pull their support and funding.

And then World Vision says they’re sorry and reverses their policy change.

Okay… Where to begin? So much has been written about this, that I’ll only try to contribute a little.

(However, do check out Rachel Held Evans posts (here and here), and a take on the Sad State of American Evangelicalism by Brandan Robertson, and some thoughts by Kristen Howerton on Taking a Stand on the Backs of Starving Children).

But two things have been percolating in my mind tonight.

1. The first is from when I was in grade 4. The neighbourhood kids would get together and play “ghost-in-the-graveyard” (a version of hide-and-seek-tag). In chasing and tagging each other, there were moments where we had to figure out whether or not tagging a loose shirt counted, or if your tag had to contact the body.

While playing, I discovered that I could get the decision I wanted by sitting down and declaring that I wasn’t playing anymore unless I got what I wanted. Maybe this is the roots of non-violent protest, or, more likely, it’s the roots of being a selfish cry-baby.

Sure, my threats worked the first time. And the next. But eventually, I discovered that the more times I threatened to “take my ball and go home,” the less my friends wanted to play with me. Oh, they still wanted to play ghost-in-the-graveyard with each other til the sun went down. They just wanted to play without me. And they did.

If conservative, evangelical Christians don’t learn how to keep playing with their friends without threatening to leave all the time, methinks they’re in big trouble. Eventually, they’ll be playing ghost-in-the-graveyard all by themselves.

2. Jesus was asked: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ All the Law and the Prophets hang on these two commandments.”

We all know this. If you had to use one word to summarize the Christian faith, I hope most of us who identify as Christians would use the word love.

But here’s the catch. Thinking we’re being loving, or saying we’re being loving, doesn’t necessarily mean we are loving. Rather, I’d say the proof is in the pudding (and apparently so does Jesus (Matthew 21:28-32)).

I actually think that Christians are losing at their own game. We’re being out-loved. And out-kinded. And out-hospitalitied. And all those other made up past-tense verbs.

All this yelling, this threatening, this petitioning, this leaving, this organizing, this fear mongering, this accusing… It’s not coming across as very loving (even if we think it is).

I’m looking forward to the final numbers World Vision numbers, but I can probably take a good guess that more people withdrew their funding over the original policy change than the reversal back to the original. Why? Nadia Bolz-Weber tells us why via her post on Facebook:

“World Vision is reportedly taking it all back.

I’m very disappointed, but still happy to support their work. The critique of pulling support for charity due to an employee hiring practice I disagree with has to cut both ways or it’s BS.”

When anyone is out-loved by their “enemies”, they have already lost.

When the people who affirm gay marriages keep sending cheques to World Vision, even if they disagree with their hiring policies, I’d venture to say the people who don’t affirm gay marriage (and threw a hissy fit) have lost. They’ve missed the point. Because the point isn’t about winning a battle. The point is about being loving.

We get it. Some people believe A. Some believe B. Some believe C. And some people didn’t even know there was a C. Maybe, just maybe, our best witness to the world about what being a follower of Jesus is all about isn’t about getting everybody to believe A. Or B. Or C. Maybe our best witness is to be about love.

The funny part about this is that we might disagree on a definition of love, or on the authority of scripture and hermeneutics and all that jazz. Or maybe my post might not be considered very loving (Darn it! Don’t we all think we’re loving?!?).

But in all of our conflicts, for Jesus’ sake (really), we have to figure out how to live and love together when we disagree.

Just over a year ago, this was my prayer: As the morning casts off the darkness, Lord, help us to cast aside any feelings of ill will we have might harbour against those who have hurt us. Soften our hearts to work toward their conversion and ours. Amen.

And I’m still praying it.

– Kyle

PS – The Truth and Reconciliation of Canada is meeting in Edmonton this weekend. For a lesson on love, we should all spend a little bit of time there…

Encountering God in our Blessings

I preached the following at Grace Mennonite on March 16, 2014. I kind of felt like I was preaching to the choir…

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The word “blessing” is used a lot in the Bible.

At the very beginning of the Bible, When God creates human beings in God’s own image, God blesses them.

God also blessed the day of rest.

The Psalms are full of blessings for those who take refuge in the Lord.

In the beatitudes, Jesus has many blessings for people whom we normally wouldn’t associate as being blessed: those of us who are meek, mourning, poor in spirit… And then later he tells us to bless those who curse us.

Henri Nouwen simply defines blessing like this,

“Speaking well, or saying good things of someone.” (Life of the Beloved, Henri Nouwen 68).

And then he goes on.

“To give someone a blessing is the most significant affirmation we can offer. It is more than a word of praise or appreciation; it is more than pointing out someone’s talents or good deeds; it is more than putting someone in the light. To give a blessing is to affirm, to say “yes” to a person’s Belovedness. And more than that: To give a blessing creates the reality of which it speaks. A blessing goes beyond the distinction between admiration or condemnation, between virtues and vices, between good deeds or evil deeds. A blessing touches the original goodness of the other and calls forth his or her Belovedness.” (Nouwen, 68-69).

I’ve heard someone else describe it simply as being ‘for’ someone. To give your blessing means that you are for them.

And we all need this. We all have moment of fear and anxiety and insecurity. We all need each other’s blessings.

We see this in little children, “Daddy! Look at me! Look at my new trick!”

We see this when our kids are on the soccer pitch and they see their parents sitting in their lawn chairs on their sidelines. Heck, I’m 30 and I still love it when my parents come and watch me play ultimate.

In family relationships, between partners or siblings or cousins, we all long to hear the words: I appreciate you. You are not alone. I am here for you. I want you to succeed. You’re important. You matter.

Have you been to a wedding lately? It’s one big blessing ceremony. I often tell couples to stop and look around at all the people who are here to support them. People drove from far away, they bring you presents, your uncle even put on a suit! They’re all here to bless you.

We hear parents give their blessing, and then at the speech at the reception they say: We love you. And welcome to the family. And we know our kid really well, so good luck.

To receive a blessing touches the deep parts of our souls.

In our scripture reading this morning, we read about God going to Abraham and saying, “I will make you into a great nation. I will bless you.”

God telling him I will make you a great nation? That probably touched his soul. God was definitely for him.

There’s something worth noting about this blessing on Abraham. He didn’t do anything to deserve it. When the blessing comes, Abraham hasn’t done anything yet. He’s just a dude. And then as the story unfolds, we find there are moments where he is great and has a lot of faith, and then there are other moments where he isn’t so great and doesn’t have a lot of faith. And he tells some lies.

But the blessing came first. God was “for” Abraham, without Abraham ever doing something significant.

I often find that to best understand God, we need to look at Jesus. In the gospel of Matthew, who are the very first people Jesus blesses?

Blessed are the poor in spirit. “The ones who are lacking, who don’t have it together, who are acutely aware of how they don’t measure up. The nobodies, the pathetic, the lame, the has beens, the not-good-enough.” God is on their side.

We often think of our lives as a bunch of “if’s.”

If I do this, then I’ll be happy. If I get a better job, if I pray more, if I lose some weight, if I quite smoking, if I am more loving, if I come to church more, if I give more money, then God will be on my side.

But that’s not true. Because God is already on your side. God doesn’t work according to the merit or point system.

The good news of God is that in your moments of greatest despair, failure, sin, weakness, losing, failing, frustration, inability, helplessness, wandering, and falling short, God meets you there – right there, in that place, and announces, I am on your side. (What We Talk About When We Talk About God – Rob Bell 133-136)

This gospel, this good news, is grace. It’s a gift. That God blessing us isn’t dependant on who we are or what we’ve done.

Twice a year, about 20 young adults from our church gather for a Young Adult Sabbath retreat. We pray, we sit in silence, we go for walks, we rest our souls, we laugh, we eat good food. I’ve been hosting them for about 8 years now, and they have become not only one of the highlights of my job, but of my entire faith experience.

And at the end of each retreat, we’ve developed a tradition that I learned from the nuns at St. Benedict’s Monastery in the city.

After communion on the last evening, you give everyone a hug! And what I do is I pull them close to me, and I whisper in their ears really great things about how much I appreciate them and how much God loves them and how they have awesome gifts to share with the world. Now obviously, some people don’t like hugs, or don’t like hugging strangers, but on every retreat I know everyone, and I like hugs, and so I live in anticipation all weekend of giving hugs to my friends where I can bless them and remind them that God is for them.

God blesses Abraham. God is for Abraham. God blesses us. God is for us. This is blessing.

Abraham was told to simply go.

To leave his land, his home, his people, and go to the land that God was going to show him. That’s kind of crazy, isn’t it? Just go. Where? Trust me. But, no I want answers! I want to know where I’m going! Is it safe? And is there running water? Who’s going to be there? Is it warm? And when I am coming back!? And most importantly, is there WIFI?

Just go.

Most of us wouldn’t go, would we? We’d need more answers. Sure, it’s nice to see know that God is blessing us and for us, but really, we’d all want a bit more than that.

Brennan Manning tells the following story in his book, Ruthless Trust.

“A brilliant ethicist went to work for three months at the “house of the dying” in Calcutta, as he was seeking a clear answer as to how best to spend the rest of his life. On the first morning there, we went to Mother Teresa. She asked, “And what can I do for you?” He asked her to pray for him.

“What do you want me to pray for?” she asked. He voiced the request that he had brought thousands of miles from the US. “Pray that I have clarity.”

She said firmly, “No. I will not do that.” When he asked her why, she said, “Clarity is the last thing you are clinging to and must let go of.”

“But YOU always seem to have clarity.”

She laughed. “I’ve never had clarity. What I have always is trust. So I will pray that you trust God.” (Manning 5)

We often come to church, to faith, to the Bible looking for clarity, a new insight, a new thought, something to ponder. Maybe, we should come learning to trust more. To trust that God is for us. To trust that we are blessed. And to trust that God is sending us somewhere.

But where is God sending us?

Blessing

There’s an expression we hear in the world. We hear it from athletes and politicians and artists and pastors.

God bless Canada. God bless America. Thank you God for the blessing. I just want to thank God for this award. Thanks God for our church.

They’re expressing the following. God bless me. God has blessed me. Thanks for the blessing.

Which isn’t bad. But it’s remarkably incomplete. Because it gives the appearance that God blessing us, that God being on our side, that God being for us, is selfish. And static. And the point of it all.

“…and all peoples on earth
will be blessed through you.” Gen 12:3

Thanking God for being on our side, for the blessings, for the Grammy or salvation or the Oscar or for our country or for the Grey Cup or the victory or for answering prayers or our jobs or our health or our church is all vain and meaningless unless the blessings lead to blessing others.

“Being blessed leads to a deep desire to bless others. The characteristic of the blessed one is that they are always speaking words of blessing. It is remarkable how easy it is to bless others, to speak good things to and about them, to call forth their beauty and truth, when you yourself are in touch with your own blessedness. The blessed one always blesses. And people want to be blessed!” (Nouwen 82)

This is the reason why I believe that the church is really, really important. Because we, at our best, are in the business of blessing others.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: The church should be the only institution that doesn’t exist for itself. It should exist for the benefit of others.

It’s not about us. It’s about us blessing the world. It’s about coming together as Jesus followers to grow as communities of grace and peace so that God’s hope and healing flow through us to the world (a big thanks to Mennonite Church Canada’s mission statement).

God calling Abraham those thousands of years ago is still relevant to us today.

We encounter God in our blessings when we can name that God is for us, and trust that God is leading us places where we are able to bless others.

Lent – What to give up, what to take on, and why…

Today is Ash Wednesday, signalling the 40 day period before Easter.

Traditionally, it has been a time where people have “given up” something: Sugar, coffee, meat, gossiping, anger, etc.

Other people choose to take something on: Praying, giving, exercise, contemplation, etc.

Last year, I chose to wake up early every morning and pray. I started with Centering Prayer, and ended with Common Prayer: A Liturgy for Ordinary Radicals. It truly changed my life.

Some of my favourite authors have written some wise words about Lent, so I’m simply going to borrow some of their words.

“Lent is not really about sacrifice and deprivation, it is about freedom and transformation. This is not a time to wallow in our sins and shout woe is me, though it is a time to acknowledge our brokenness, repent of our sins and journey towards wholeness. It is a time to acknowledge the deep longing of our hearts for a more intimate walk with God and consider ways that we might accomplish that.” – Christine Sine

“God’s people first came into existence when the children of Israel were delivered from slavery in Egypt and called out into the desert to be educated into freedom, to learn to live with no other master but God himself.” – Thomas Merton

“For me Merton’s words sum up the true purpose of Lent. God wants to educate us into the true freedom of following God with all our hearts and minds and actions. In this season God wants to liberate us from the bondages of our slavery to self-centredness, greed, busyness, and rampant consumerism. God wants us to help others be liberated from the bondages of poverty, sex trafficking, imprisonment, addictions, injustice and disease. And God wants us to commit to the liberation of our earth from pollution, deforestation and species extinction.” – Christine Sine

“In a world filled with clutter, noise, and hustle, Lent is a good excuse to step back and rethink how we think and live. In a world of instant gratification, it’s a chance to practice delayed gratification – to fast – so that we can truly appreciate the blessings we have. In a world where virtual friends are replacing real ones, it is an invitation to turn off TV and computer screens so we can spend time with real people again. It’s an opportunity to give up something that is sucking the life out of us so that we can be filled with God, with life, with love again.” – Shane Claiborne

I find myself screaming these thoughts inside. Longing for God! Freedom! Contentment! Liberation! Filled with God, life and love again! My spiritual director shared with me that if our lives were like rubber bands, most of us able to stretch when needed. The problem, she said, was that most of live almost all of our lives stretched out, and so we are completely unable to stretch anymore.

This is my life right now. Maybe it’s because of my job as a pastor. Maybe it’s because this has been the coldest winter in my life and it’s finally getting to my soul. Maybe it’s the season of life I’m in (with small children, plus a teenager), where I am perpetually tired and giving of myself. I love my life, but I am stretched out. I want rest. I want renewal.

This year, I will be doing a bit of giving up, and a bit of taking something on.

I will again attempt to pray in the mornings. However, with the kids waking up at stupid hours, I am plan on giving myself some grace on this one. It’s hard to put it into words, but the more I center myself in God through prayer, I am both more loving and present to those around me.

I will also not bring my phone into my bedroom at night, but instead end my days with reading and/or prayer instead of email and game #830 of cribbage against the computer (I’m up 422-408).

And I will be saying goodbye to my social media apps on my phone. I will miss out on how some of you are doing, I will miss reading articles from my favourite authors, and I will definitely miss seeing your pictures on Instagram. I’m sure that you’ll all miss the Arianna-isms, my impeccable wit (smile), and certainly the Facebook birthday greetings from a sasquatch. But in doing so, I am hoping to be more present to God, my family, myself, my friends, my church, and the earth.

This Lent, may we say yes to some things, no to other things, and be re-filled with God, life, and love again.

Grace and Peace,

Kyle

PS – If your birthday is between now and Easter, this picture is for you.

Polar Vortexes, Garages, and the Canadian Revenue Agency

I have to admit, I’m more nervous to preach on this text than I was when I preached about hell. Because for most of us, hell is this abstract belief that we don’t put much thought into, and it definitely doesn’t affect our daily decisions. When we make choices about our careers, our education, what kind of car we drive, who we marry, how many kids we want to have, or where we want to live, when we want to retire, we don’t really consider whether or not hell is real and who’s going there.

But money. Oh, we consider money. In all of our big decisions, like jobs and houses, and all of our little decisions, like premium vs. regular gas, or whether or not we buy that stick of gum, we consider money. Money is probably one of the biggest factors in our life.

Jesus knew this. Jesus spends more time talking about money than heaven, hell, sex and prayer combined.

And so here we are. On the eve of the RRSP contribution deadline, and we are reading a parable about a man making a lot of money and putting it away for the future so that he can take life easy, eat, drink, and be merry. Hopefully he’ll even have enough money to go down south for the winter, so that he can avoid the polar vortex. That sounds a lot like most of us polar-vortex hating folks here, doesn’t it? And yet God calls him a fool.

Now, I think that we’re a long ways off from the world that Jesus occupied. People 2000 years ago didn’t have Pension Plans or Old Age Security or RRSP’s. They didn’t live til their 80’s and 90’s, they had more than 2.1 kids and those kids didn’t move across the country for jobs. And they also didn’t have to pay their darned heating bills.

I think, in our culture, things have changed over the years too. I was talking to one of you recently (who happens to be in their 80’s), and you told me that your father thought that owning RRSP’s was selfish. If you had extra money, you would share it with those who needed it.

Your family followed Augstine’s thoughts about this parable, “The rich fool didn’t realize that the bellies of the poor are much safer storerooms than his barns.”

But, in the 80 years that have happened since, I think many of us have taken a different approach. For many of us, we do our best to not rely on our kids during our retirement years. We work hard when we’re younger, are responsible with our money, and save our nickels so that we aren’t a burden on our family. In our current culture, hitting up your family for cash because you gave it all away is more or less considered a foolish thing.

That being said, there are a couple of things to consider about this parable and how it is applicable to us today.

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The first, is that the context of the parable is a man coming up to Jesus and telling Jesus to tell his brother to divide the inheritance. So the brother’s father has passed away, and given the culture of the time, it was the eldest brothers job to divide the inheritance. And that obviously wasn’t happening. Jesus. Make my brother divide the estate.

So, here’s a question. What do you think the relationship was like between the two brothers? Were they best buds? Do you think they went fishing together on weekends? Probably not. It sounds like their relationship was on the rocks. Communication had probably broken down, they probably have 30 years of unresolved conflict between them, and now they had to figure out how to close the estate of their father.

Does this sound familiar? Families arguing over estates? My friend who’s a lawyer told me once about a family that were arguing before the funeral of their parent over some money in the will. And that money was the equivalent of one month’s pay cheque for each of them.

Jesus! Tell my brother to divide the inheritance properly! Now we just pay lawyers to do it for us.

The point isn’t the money. The point is your relationship. The point is that you are letting greed take precedence over your relationship. No wonder Jesus calls him “Man,” which was somewhat harsh tone and is deserving of an eye roll. “Man, who appointed me a judge between you?” When an abundance of possessions is what drives us, we have missed the point of life entirely.

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The second thing is that Jesus tells a parable of a certain rich man who had a bumper crop. Now, a careful reading shows that the man was rich before the harvest. This one harvest didn’t make him rich. He already was.

And then when he had his bumper crop, do you notice what he was saying? What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops. This is what I’ll do. I’ll build bigger barns. And then I’ll be able to take life easy.

I, I, I. The man dialogued with himself. He is alone.

This is doubly sad when you take into consideration the important role that family and community played in the Middle East 2000 years ago. Everyone was closely knit together, everybody had a say in everybody’s business, and this was considered the good life, and he had none of it. He was alone.

Being rich has a tendency to do that to us, doesn’t it?

When Ash and I lived in Winnipeg, both us and our neighbours had detached garages. We always saw each other, waved, smiled, said hello, asked how they were doing, even when we were lugging groceries from the garage to the house in the middle of winter.

Now, our house in Steinbach has an attached garage. It certainly is more convenient, and warmer, but we honestly don’t see our neighbours for 5 months of the year. We’re more alone.

Also, when we were living in Winnipeg, one of our friends moved from East Kildonan to North Kildonan. I didn’t question the move, as most of us move houses, but one person said something to our friend that will forever stay with me. He said: “Good move. You’re almost out of the city.”

The point of moving, to this man, was to get out of the city. You move from Elmwood to East Kildonan to North Kildonan to East St. Paul. And I know there are factors such as noise and safety and taxes. But one thing about being out of the city is that the houses are bigger, the lots are bigger, and it’s harder to see your neighbours. Wealth makes us more alone.

This hits close to home for many of us, doesn’t it. Think second homes. Think retirement homes. Think vacation properties. Think cabins. These things that we place an awful lot of value on can actually move us further and further from our primary community and family.

When I was living in Africa, one of my friends said to me: It’s really hard to have a genuine relationship between 2 people who have vastly different amounts of money, because there’s a massive power imbalance. Are you friends because you like each other, or because of the benefits that might come with being friends? Unequal wealth makes relationships harder.

“Woe to you who add house to house
and join field to field
till no space is left
and you live alone in the land.” Isaiah 5:8

So you have a rich man who is alone and only has concern for himself.

_________________________________

But at least he can eat, drink, and be merry, right?

And he’s even following the Bible when he says this: “So I commend the enjoyment of life, because there is nothing better for a person under the sun than to eat and drink and be glad. Then joy will accompany them in their toil all the days of the life God has given them under the sun.” Ecclesiastes 8:15

He got the first part right, about eating and drinking and enjoying life. But he misses the second part. He completely fails to acknowledge that the days of his life are a gift from God. To him, the highest sense of accomplishment and satisfaction is eating and drinking and living the good life. The highest sense of accomplishment, to this man, is remarkably selfish.

When one of my kids is at day care, one of the first questions I ask is, “Did you have fun?” I don’t even think when asking it, but seriously? Fun is the point of life? I think next time I’m going to ask, “Did you love well today?”

In the man’s speech, there’s no sense of gratitude, or sharing, or generosity, or even remotely believing that life is bigger than oneself.

And then he dies. And I wonder who will care…

In this parable, Jesus is really putting the screws to the man who wants Jesus to divide the inheritance.

It’s like Jesus is saying to man: Think about this. You and your brother are not on the same page, and you want me to ignore that so you can get your stuff. And then when you get your stuff, it’s going to end up pushing you further away from relationships. And then when you die, who’s going to get your stuff?

I imagine Jesus shaking his head and sighing, and the (non-violently) hitting him on the back of the head with a dead fish, because this man is missing the point of life.

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I don’t think that this parable condemns people who are wealthy.

I don’t think this parable tells people to not save for retirement, at least, I hope not, because I have a self-directed RRSP through work so that I don’t have to preach til I’m 73.

I don’t think this parable is telling us to be grumpy people who never have fun and don’t eat and drink and be merry.

But I do think that this parable is reminding us that everything we have, from our houses to our families to our cash to our last breath, is a gift of God. It’s reminding us to live in gratitude.

I do think that his parable is warning us about the pitfalls of money. That money and possessions are not the most important things in this world.

I think this parable is a reminder that our relationship with others is one of the most important things in our lives. That we are to love our neighbours as ourselves.

It reminds us to not store up things for ourselves, but to be rich towards God.

Rich towards God can be understood many ways. I’m going to offer you three handles, suggestions, things to talk about over lunch.

1) It’s tax season, and we’re all busy collecting our T4’s and charitable receipts. And when we hand in all those papers to our accountants and to CRA, will they know that you are rich towards God? Will they know that your life does not revolve around an abundance of possessions?

2) Some of us make wills to ensure that our kids won’t have to go to Jesus (or the lawyers) to settle our estates. One of my friends told me this. He said, “I have 3 kids, but in my will, I have 4. That 4^th kid is my favourite charitable cause.” It could be MCC, church, MDS, CMU, World Vision, Soup’s On, Today House, an endowment fund, whatever. But are you willing to add a “kid” to your will? How would you react if your parents added a “kid” to the will?

3) Do your possessions, or your money, help your relationships? Or do they hurt your relationships? Does it bring you closer to people? Or further away? Does your wealth build community? Whom does it serve? When I came back from Zimbabwe 13 years ago, one of the ways I navigated through being rich was through the guidelines “Does this enhance the quality of my relationships?” Does it bring me closer to people? What kind of car do I need for my relationships? Does a canoe bring me closer to people? What does social media do to how I interact with people? Do my shoes matter? Do we put up a fence in our backyard, or do we let the neighbourhood kids play on our play structure? It’s not a perfect guideline, as we can pretty much justify anything, but I have found it to be helpful.

Does CRA know you are rich towards God? Are you willing to add a kid to your will? How do you use your wealth to build community and relationships?

These are good questions to ask. And not necessarily easy to answer.

But as we seek to be followers of Jesus, I think that they are really, really important questions.

Bake Them Their Cake

Bake them their cake.

3 Weeks in Hell, with Kyle – Part 3

Lighters, Russian Roulette, and 5 Minutes – “Talking about and Inviting”

Okay. Part 3. The last Sunday in hell.

In some ways, I’m kind of sad we’re ending our time in hell today. I feel like we’re just getting started, and that we’re only beginning to scratch the depth of spirituality, worldviews, church, salvation, our understanding of God and our place in this world…. But alas, Ashley’s sister is getting married next weekend, so I will not be here. And even though I’m officiating at the wedding, I’m thinking a wedding sermon on hell might be a little bit inappropriate.

The feedback I’ve received this month has been just awesome. Some of it is funny. Randy, the pastor at Steinbach Mennonite, told me this week, “I hear it’s been hell at Grace Mennonite for the past 3 weeks!” Love it.

One of you said, “See you in hell on Sunday!” Hahaha. That one even caught me off guard.

This morning, one of you told me that last week’s sermon caused you to not to sleep for an entire night. I asked if in a good way, and you said yes, because you were deep in thought. Phew. If you were having nightmares of fire and damnation, I’d feel a little bad.

Some of it is deep. I received an email telling me, saying thanks for talking about this. “The openness at Grace is a big reason why I am here, the other is that it values outreach and being followers of Jesus so highly. I have often felt I would not be accepted for my views in most churches and maybe rightfully so, but I am not out to change anyone else’s beliefs, only to grow in my own journey and share with those who are interested. I’m thankful for a safe place to worship and serve and continue my journey.”

And I’ll say thank you to everyone for this place named Grace. It existed for many years before we got here… None of us walk alone.

One of you said, “You seem to be putting into words what many of us have been thinking for years.” Thanks. It’s a joy. And thanks for a budget to buy good books. Everything that I have said has been said somewhere else in history, and I’m glad that we give each other the space to explore some of more hard topics in faith.

One of you had a question about the story I told last week about what might happen to an evil dictator after he dies. It’s a story, so it can interpreted multiple ways, but it does give the impression that the evil dictator had a second chance at repentance and heaven after death .

In hindsight, I realize that this is quite a break from mainstream theology. Maybe it’s heretical, maybe it’s not, but for sure it’s unorthodox.

So I’ll spend a few minutes exploring that idea, because I think it sets us up well for the rest of the sermon.

First of all, questions of the afterlife are all speculation at best, right? Because none of us really know how it’s going to shake down. I fiercely believe that when we die, our story isn’t over. At funerals I can say with great confidence that this isn’t our final goodbye. But also, none of us can claim to know the exact details.

Second of all, the traditional understanding of sin, confession, forgiveness and salvation can lead to some pretty hard questions. For example, all of us are okay with letting people into heaven without confessing Jesus as Lord. All of us would say children and people with cognitive disabilities don’t have to say the name “Jesus” to enter heaven. So salvation is possible without ever have to say or even know the word “Jesus.”

Thirdly, Jesus tells different things to different people. He tells some to sell their possessions and give to the poor. He tells others to sin no more. He tells others to be look after the least of these. And others he tells that their sins are forgiven. There isn’t a really good, tight knit formula here.

And finally, here are two images. One is Malala Yousafzai, the teenager who was shot by the Taliban and is working towards reconciliation with her enemy AND the education of girls in Southwest Asia. And here is a picture of a bullet used by the US army in Iraq, inscribed with Bible verses. There were 9 types of bullets with different Bible verses inscribed in them, most of them about how Jesus is the light of the world. They were put there by the weapons company for over 30 years, as the company’s founder was a devout Christian. Okay, so now this question of belief vs. deeds gets awfully complicated, doesn’t it? One goes to heaven and one goes to hell? Is there punishment for one and not the other?

So, I like to think that when it comes to questions of the afterlife, that God’s grace is big. Really big. Like, bigger than all the world’s sins. Bigger than what I can comprehend. And that he’ll make it all right and sort it all out the way it needs to be sorted out. And if that means a lot of unanswered questions or surprises in heaven or a lot of trust in God, I’m okay with that.

But that brings up a whole different set of questions, that one of you texted me so perfectly during Q and Eh last week. “Is there a point in sharing God’s word with others or “evangelizing” here on Earth then?”

Great question. Story time!

Several years ago, I attended a Franklin Graham festival. They used to be called crusades, and thankfully they changed that to festival, but imagine your classic tent meeting.

Franklin Graham, who is the son of Billy Graham and is the head of Samaritan’s Purse and all those shoe boxes at Christmas, started his speech off by holding up a lighter to his hand and saying, “If you think this is hot, hell is going to be a lot hotter. There are murderers in the audience here tonight. It’s true. There are liars here. People who tell lies. We’re all sinners here. And sinners go to hell. But Jesus offers us a way out.”

Is this how we are supposed to talk about faith with people who aren’t Christians? We convince them that they are sinners and that God is going to send them to hell, so that we can tell them about Jesus so Jesus can save them from hell?

What is Jesus saving us from? This story makes it sound a bit like kind Jesus is saving us from angry God. Does Jesus save us from God? I thought they were the same person…

Because the assumption has always been that we are supposed to tell people about Jesus so that they don’t go to hell. I’ve heard someone describe it like one big game of Russian Roulette: “If my Christianity is wrong, then we’ll both end up it in the same place. But if it’s right, then you’re going to be sorry. I’ll take my chances with Jesus.” So now following Jesus is like gambling? Where we play the odds? With our souls?

Or, if this doesn’t work, you can always throw a bumper sticker on your car. I saw this one at the doctor’s office a few weeks ago.

“Try Jesus. If you don’t like him, the devil will always take you back.”

Here’s another one of my favourite stories. Phil Campbell-Enns, the associate pastor before me, started this great tradition of taking our youth and learning about other religions. We’d study some of their key doctrines, and then we’d wrap it up with a visit to their place of worship. We visited mosques, synagogues, and a Buddhist temple. It was awesome.

So when I was a youth pastor in the city, we did this too! It was great, except for that one kid who converted to Islam… Just kidding. Much to the relief of some people at church, none of our kids switched religions.

One time we were at the mosque with the imam, the equivalent of our pastor, and one of my kids asked the question, “What happens in the afterlife to people who aren’t Muslim?” He responded gently. “Well, the traditional belief in Islam is that non-Muslims will end up in hell, which is quite similar to the Christian belief that non-Christians will end up in hell too.”

And then, in either a moment of sheer brilliance or sheer stupidity, I said “Well, shoot. I guess we’re all going to hell then, aren’t we?” Brilliant or stupid, I do not know.

But for most of us, the question isn’t even about other faiths. The questions I think most of us face is something like this: “But what about my neighbour who cuts my grass when I’m on vacation? He’s a nice dude. Not doing a lot of evil. He may think Christians are silly for believing in an invisible sky god, but he just goes to work at the bank, coaches minor hockey in the evening and goes to the cabin in the summer. What do we invite him to?”

Ah. Yes. Great question.

What do we invite people to?

I’ve thought about this question a lot this week. A lot. And read a lot. And I’ve come up with this.

Jesus is Lord.

I know, pretty original, eh?

Jesus is Lord.

But I think this is it.

In the Roman Empire, the context of Jesus and the first Christians, the emperors called themselves Caesar and they had popular slogans.

“there is no other name under heaven by which people can be saved than that of Caesar

and they demanded that everybody, everywhere acknowledge

Caesar is Lord.

And so they marched all over the known world, conquering lands, demanding that people acknowledge Caesar is Lord, extracting taxes from the people they crushed which they used to build a bigger army to conquer more people to tax them to fund an even bigger army…” (Rob Bell, What is the Bible, part 29).

And then along came the first disciples. No. Caesar isn’t Lord. Jesus is.

Our allegiance isn’t to you and your system of violence and oppression. Our allegiance is to Jesus.

Jesus is Lord.

The beautiful thing about “Jesus is Lord” is that that statement is big. Really big . And timeless. And relevant. Because many things demand our allegiance. And our time. And our money.

Our country. Our favourite political leaders. Our retirement plans. Our security. Our favourite sports teams.

All o these are our current realities. But now filter them through the phrase, Jesus is Lord.

The phrase “Jesus is Lord” is great that it can mean a lot of things to a lot of different people.

For some of us, it leads us to be more generous with our time and money.

For others, it means we get help for our deepest, darkest secrets.

For some, it means that we learn to claim our identity as beloved children of God.

For others, it means we look at others in new ways, and offer love and grace that is rooted in Jesus.

For some, it means inviting people over for dinner.

For others, it means inviting them to live with you.

Because Jesus is Lord changes everything.

One of my friends who works for a Mennonite conference, has a supper club with his neighbours, where he is the only Christian. He shared with me that when people asked where he works, he tells them the church. And they say, “Church? People still go to church? Why?” Now obviously, my friend isn’t in Steinbach. And he told me that his answer is this, “I serve a master. His name is Jesus.”

That sounds pretty ludicrous, isn’t it? And somewhat offensive. What about political parties or your family or your friends or your job or your country or your retirement plan or your boss or yourself? Because we all have masters… Jesus is my master, and that changes everything.

So, my answer to what we invite people to consider, is Jesus. Nice Sunday school answer, eh? We invite people to see that Jesus is Lord. And trusting that following Jesus leads to love.

So that, I hope, answers the “What do we invite people to.”

But the how… ah, the how. Assuming you don’t have a bumper sticker about Jesus, or that you’re little “Hell is Hotter than this” lighter trick ruins Christmas every year, how do we invite people to consider Jesus as Lord?

I, think, that for me, most of the time my invitation doesn’t sound like this, “You should decide if Jesus is Lord.”

I think, my invitation sounds more like this: “Do you want to come with me? My belief that Jesus is Lord leads me to live a certain way. Come! Come do life with us! Let’s walk together.”

Because then, the invitation isn’t some abstract assent to certain beliefs or doctrines. It’s an invitation to do life together. A life that we believe leads to love. A life of love that we believe changes the world.

It’s an invitation to come and try to follow Jesus. An invitation to live in the Kingdom of God now. A kingdom of peace, forgiveness, restorative justice, hospitality, weakness, welcoming everyone, and ultimately, love (Baker 170-176).

It’s a little more subtle and gentle and humble than threatening hell. It may lead to people making a concrete decision to declare Jesus is Lord. But it might not. But the same can be said about the bumper sticker and the lighter trick, with the difference being that inviting people to do life together and love the world will probably make them less mad and angry.

And I also like the invitation to come and follow Jesus together because it keeps a lot of the onus on us. Because it means we need to live lives that are worthy of invitation. It means that we are engaged in life giving beliefs and practices and prayers, and we invite people to join us. It means we invite people on to a float plane every summer, or we invite college students to take a weekend and pray in silence, or we invite people to read really great books with us, or we invite them to pray for us as we work through forgiving someone, or we invite them to understand our identity as beloved children of God, or we invite them to explore faith at a safe little church called Grace.

For some of us, declaring Jesus is Lord is a starting point. For others of us, it’s something we discover along the way.

So, for me, talking about faith is Jesus as Lord. Inviting people to faith is “Let’s walk together.”

Two more stories, and then we’re done with hell for a bit.

First one. Jesus rises from the dead, and is hanging out with Peter and John. He asks Peter 3 times if Peter loves him, and Peter says yes, so Jesus says,

Feed my sheep. Follow me.

And then Peter looks at John, and asks, Lord, what about him?

And Jesus answers, “If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.” (John 21) I can do what I want with him. Your job is to follow me.

I can’t speak with confidence about the fate of others. But what I can speak with confidence on is Jesus being my master.

Second story, Mitch Albom wrote a book, Have A Little Faith, exploring the faith and life of 2 men. It’s a great little book, and the epilogue has always stood out to me as to why we do what we do. We pick up a conversation between Mitch and his Rabbi, whom they called Reb.

One last memory.

This was not long before the Reb passed away. He was talking about heaven and suddenly, for some reason, I had a notion.

What if you only get five minutes with God?

“Five minutes?” he said.

Five minutes, I said. God is a busy God. Here’s your slice of heaven. Five minutes alone with the Lord and then, poof, on you go to whatever happens next.

“And in those five minutes?” he asked, intrigued.

In those five minutes, you can ask anything you want.

“Ah. Okay.”

He pushed back into the chair, as if consulting the air around him.

“First, I would say, ‘Do me a favour, God in heaven, if you can, a member of my family who needs help, please show them the way on earth. Guide them a little.”

Okay. That’s a minute.

“The next three minutes, I’d say, ‘Lord, give these to someone who is suffering and requires your love and counsel.”

You’d give up three minutes?

“If someone truly needs it, yes.”

Okay, I said. That still leaves you a minute.

“All right. In that final minute, I would say, ‘Look, Lord, I’ve done X amount of good stuff on earth. I have tried to follow your teachings and to pass them on. I have loved my family. I’ve been part of a community. And I have been, I think, fairly good to people.

“ ‘So, Heavenly Father, for all of this, what is my reward?’ “

And what do you think God will say?

He smiled.

“He’ll say, ‘Reward? What reward? That’s what you were supposed to do!’ “

Jesus is Lord. Let’s do life together. Because I believe that following Jesus leads to a love that changes our hearts and changes the world.

Amen.

** Dear internet reader. Please read the disclaimers both before and after Part 1. Thanks!