They Were On Fire
I’ve always been fascinated by the lives of the earliest Christians who lived two thousand years ago.
Under the crush of Roman occupation, a new movement was birthed: men and women who worshiped the risen Messiah.
This wave of radical acceptance and grace-filled lives swept the world and changed human history.
In 1947, J.B. Phillips wrote this description of the Christian movement:
“The great difference between present-day Christianity and that of which we read in these letters is that to us it is primarily a performance, to them it was a real experience. We are apt to reduce the Christian religion to a code, or at best a rule of heart and life. To these men it is quite plainly the invasion of their lives by a new quality of life altogether.
They do not hesitate to describe this as Christ ʻliving inʼ them. These early Christians were on fire with the conviction that they had become, through Christ, literally sons of God; they were pioneers of a new humanity, founders of a new Kingdom. They still speak to us across the centuries. Perhaps if we believed what they believed, we might achieve what they achieved."
The earliest followers experienced the powerful aftermath of Jesus’ empty tomb: thousands of people turning to Jesus as their Master and Forgiver, radical life-change, and rumblings throughout society about this God-man who now lives.
In addition to keeping the Jewish Sabbath, these first followers of Christ added the observance of the first day of the week - the day that Jesus rose from death to life. This is why most Christians worship on Sunday mornings.
According to premiere Christian historian Justo Gonzalez, the earliest communion services did not center on Christ’s passion - they were not quiet, introspective, reflective services.
Instead, Christians worshiped weekly in loud celebration, understanding that the tomb was empty, death could not hold Jesus, and He was ushering in a new age of victory. Yes, every Sunday was a party for One!
It was much later - centuries later - before the focus of Christian worship shifted towards the death of Jesus. In the earliest Christian community, the breaking of bread took place “with glad and generous hearts” (Acts 2:46).
May we embrace this same infectious enthusiasm first demonstrated by the earliest Christ followers.
May we worship Jesus Christ with great passion, may we love others with scandalous grace, and may we be outward-focused in our church communities.
An empty tomb provokes nothing less.
No Reserves, No Retreats, No Regrets
One of my heroes of the faith is the little-known missionary William Borden.
William Borden’s funeral took place at The Moody Church in Chicago.
During my college years, I discovered the beauty of the gospel while attending The Moody Church.
Here's something my team filmed a few years back on location.
During my college years, I discovered the beauty of the gospel while attending The Moody Church.
Here's something my team filmed a few years back on location.
Funeral Thoughts
Today I officiated the funeral of a 27-yr-old and her unborn son.
Life is so fragile and short.
Hug, don’t hate.
Choose grace over gossip.
God doesn’t bless grudges, He blesses when we try to reconcile together.
Isaiah 40.
Life is so fragile and short.
Hug, don’t hate.
Choose grace over gossip.
God doesn’t bless grudges, He blesses when we try to reconcile together.
Isaiah 40.
Loving the Dying
Recently I started serving as a Hospice Chaplain in addition to serving at Life Church. With my ADHD, choosing to do chaplaincy visitations is not my strongest gifting. It’s part of a huge shift I’ve intentionally made in my life and leadership.
My reasons for serving the terminally ill and dying in this way is two-fold. The first reason is because I have felt deeply challenged by Bob Goff to live out Matthew 25: “Love is sacrifice and commitment. Jesus wants us to love hungry people, thirsty people, naked people, sick people, strange people and people in jail. That’s it. That’s what I’m trying to do. It’s a weird business card. I want to help people.”
One way Amber have lived this out over the years is by adopting five infants and creating a new kind of family. Now I am embracing hospice chaplaincy to also live out Matthew 25 in my own life. By holding the hand of an elderly, declining patient with Alzheimer’s, I am (hopefully) being Jesus to them in their final weeks of life.
The second reason for this big shift in my life springs out of my own struggles with depression and loneliness. Over the past two years, all of my closest friends have either died or ditched me. Literally. It’s been brutal. As I’ve sought God in prayer and through Scripture during this season of being alone, I’ve sensed the Spirit telling me to focus on others who truly experience deep loneliness: the dying.
What I’ve discovered along the way is that we all can slow down and spend time listening to people who are not like us, especially when they are unable to leave their homes or their assisted-living facilities. There is a special grace to be experienced in simply being present for patients and compassionately listening.
I hope that this small new endeavor spreads love and hope into the lives of those facing hospice care in our area. And I hope to find healing in my own heart as I continue to extend a hand in love.
Putting Down the Hammer
Reading Luke at the moment. Gotta love Jesus.
Puts down the hammer aged 30 (Luke 3:23) and, in his distinctive northern accent announces he's the long hoped for Messiah (4:21). He's like a car mechanic from rural Ukraine telling the crowd he's destined for world domination.
In Luke 5 he starts recruiting for his kingdom and heads straight for the docks to head hunt a few unsuccessful fishermen, next a leper, then a paralysed man, then the most despised wretch in the region, a tax collector. The religious authorities object but he brushes them off.
"I'm not here to police spiritual health," he says, "I'm a doctor for the sick." And on he goes, doing his rounds, healing the sick, forgiving sinners, lifting the lowly and blasting the lofty. They eventually catch up with him and do their worst but he doesn't make a peep.
He spreads his arms to the world, bleeds for his enemies, prays "Father, forgive" and he's dead and buried aged 33. Turns out though the Jesus movement did not die. Far from it. Turns out a carpenter from Nazareth has done exactly what he said he'd do: take over the world.
Don't know if you believe in miracles but 'water into wine' has nothing on this. How do you turn godforsaken execution into world domination? Whatever you think of miracles, Jesus has pulled off a marvel far greater than water into wine.
Christianity rose from death in the first century. To believe that Christ himself rose is not to add to the list of improbable events you affirm. It is to explain events that would otherwise be baffling. The man on that cross has built our world—we can see that culturally.
We live inside that miracle today. And Christians say: He made our world because he is Maker. And what a Maker!—a carpenter from Nazareth surrounded by nobodies and no-hopers. But his movement grows today. He's still recruiting. Pick up Luke and read. The Doctor will see you.
- Glen Scrivener
C.H. Spurgeon on Cancel Culture
As ministers we are very far from being perfect, but many of us are doing our best, and we are grieved that the minds of our people should be more directed to our personal imperfections than to our divine message.Judge the preacher if you like, but do remember that there is something better to be done than that, namely, to get all the good you can out of him, and pray his Master to put more good into him.”
Maggots in My Garage
Clasping my piping hot coffee and whisking toward the car parked gingerly in the garage, my senses failed the first tell-tale sign that something was askew: the sound of rustling. In the garage.
As I approached my car, my eye caught movement on the ground. Was that rice wiggling around?
My groggy mind caught up with my senses: MAGGOTS!
Something odorous in the flimsy plastic trash can had attracted, retained, and birthed maggots. All because I had missed the trash pick-up two Mondays in a row.
Scratch that. "Missed" isn't the correct term.
I hadn't wanted to deal with taking out the trash.
Apathy. Laziness. Call it what you want.
But I've proven that you reap what you sow.
My failure to deal with the trash (true story!) resulted in writhing maggots, jiggling their pulsating little blobby-bodies like something out of Star Trek.
Paul wrote that failing to deal with little pieces of trash in our everyday lives attracts, retains, and births larger spiritual maggots. In Ephesians 4, we wrestle with these words:
"Do not let the sun go down on your anger, and give no opportunity to the devil."
In other words, keep short accounts with people in your life. If something - anything - is rubbing you the wrong way, deal with it immediately.
That day.
Before the sun goes down.
Otherwise that small bit of trash will attract, retain, and birth larger maggots that will jade your perception of reality and eat away at you.
Small things quickly become big things if we don't take out the trash right away.
