Letting the Light Shine

Today I had the opportunity of worshipping with an emerging church plant called The Center. It was great getting to know new people with similar hearts.

The leader shared some thoughts from John 12:44-50. He focused on verse 46: "I have come into the world as a light, so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness" (NIV).

First of all, I find this a very powerful proclamation of Jesus declaring himself to be the Messiah. In Isaiah 49:6, referring to His Messiah, God states, "It is too small a thing for you to be my servant to restore the tribes of Jacob and bring back those of Israel I have kept. I will also make you a light for the Gentiles, that you may bring my salvation to the ends of the earth" (NIV). This statement would have induced quite a bit of fervor among the crowd. This description of the Messiah was well known to the Jews of Jesus' day.

But that is a side note. In the discussion, we talked about how darkness is not an entity unto itself. It is simply the absence of light. We talked about letting that light shine into all corners of our lives. And then the pastor asked the question, "What does it mean to give things over to Jesus?" (roughly paraphrased). It got me thinking. It is not enough just to turn on the light to see the problems, make a list of things to do, and start the process of cleaning. Those areas don't just need to be "cleaned" in the Light; they need to be inhabited with faithful actions. A parable that Jesus tells comes to mind, from Luke 11:24-26 (NIV):

24"When an evil spirit comes out of a man, it goes through arid places seeking rest and does not find it. Then it says, 'I will return to the house I left.' 25When it arrives, it finds the house swept clean and put in order. 26Then it goes and takes seven other spirits more wicked than itself, and they go in and live there. And the final condition of that man is worse than the first."

I think The Message gives a good idea of the gist of the statement:

"When a corrupting spirit is expelled from someone, it drifts along through the desert looking for an oasis, some unsuspecting soul it can bedevil. When it doesn't find anyone, it says, 'I'll go back to my old haunt.' On return, it finds the person swept and dusted, but vacant. It then runs out and rounds up seven other spirits dirtier than itself and they all move in, whooping it up. That person ends up far worse than if he'd never gotten cleaned up in the first place."

Vacant. I like how The Message phrases that. Our lives can be as "clean" as can be, but if it is vacant, if we are not letting the Spirit inhabit every part of our lives, there is still an absence of light, and more evil can sneak back. In fact, having one problem is better than getting rid of the problem, cleaning up an area of life, and then still leaving it free of God.

To me, giving something over to Jesus doesn't just mean letting the light shine onto the dark corners so that I can see them to clean them. It means cleaning it up and letting Jesus dwell there. How? I don't know. By putting prayer prominently in the newly cleaned area? Changing language? Changing routines? Beginning new actions in that area? I have much to meditate on.

35 Years of Marriage

January 6, 2007

Well, as promised, here are just a few pictures from my parent's 35th Anniversary Wedding Vow Renewal Ceremony. They never had a real "wedding" or wedding pictures. They do now. It was a surprise for my mom from my sister and me. (My mom kind of figured something like this was going to renewal. For those who haven't read the previous post about this, my parents eloped to Alaska (where my dad was stationed in the Army) and got married at a Justice of the Peace.happen, as she obviously got the wedding dress.)

The day was perfect. It really was. God provided a beautiful, sunny Arizona day.

My parents met at a Phoenix College football game in October of 1971. My mom was in the Marching Band, and my dad was visiting his dad in Phoenix (he was on leave from the Army, stationed in Alaska). They dated for a week, and then wrote to each other for 2-3 months. Then, in early January of 1972, my mom boarded her first ever plane and flew to Alaska to marry my dad. (She had a picture of him in her hand as she got off the plane, as she had only seen him a few time a few months earlier. If any of you know my mom, you know that she is very creative and loves helping with weddings. That is why this was so special. She finally got the wedding she never had.

Mom and Dad, you are incredible. It has been rough, for all of us, but you stuck it out. May you have many more years of love and life together.

Love you,
Tony

Emerging Leadership and Nomenclature: Part 3

Leadership Nomenclature

The confusing state of emerging church/spiritual leadership that I have previously addressed is seen in the nomenclature used to refer to different leadership positions and functions. As already mentioned, Solomon's Porch has a "Leadership Co-Op," with elected, rotating members. The term "co-op" has a more egalitarian and postmodern sound than a "board of directors" (which sounds thoroughly corporate-model). Yet, they also have a "lead pastor" who is always in the Leadership Co-Op. Almost all churches, emerging or not, have a "lead pastor" who is the real or figurehead leader. This term is still embraced by many, if not most, emerging churches. Other churches have leadership teams, but always a lead pastor. By definition, that term means that that person is in front, seeing the terrain, and blazing the spiritual trail for the rest to follow. (Senior Pastor is also used, emphasizing authority from experience and wisdom, but the same criticism still applies.) These "lead pastors" are the primary voice in that community. Otherwise, again by definition, they would not be lead pastors.

I have blogged before about the very term "pastor," and therefore will not repeat the thoughts from there. But it is interesting that we still don't have many new (and more accurate?) names of our leadership positions. There are some churches who look back to the ancient order and draw upon that deep well. On one site, the leadership link was titled "Elders." This is a very ancient and well-known term that implies a great deal. I had respect for an emerging church that would use such terminology for its leadership positions. When I clicked on the link, their "elders" were the lead pastor and the worship leader. From their pictures and bios, both were likely between 26-34. Hardly congruent with the term "elder." The ironic thing is that the New Covenant writings are filled with synonyms for elder that don't have such obvious implications, such as shepherds or bishops. Yet these are not used (again, very limited sample size, admittedly).

I don't have any answers, or suggestions. But nomenclature means something. What most people in modern churches think of as "pastors" are usually gifted teachers, or proclaimers, or even "prophetic voices" turning the hearts of God's people back to Him. Wouldn't it be wonderful to have a pastoral co-op? With rotating voices? Or shepherds who actually guard and tend the flock, who know each by name, and attend to the wounded, rather than fix budgets and hire staff? What could this body of leaders be referred to that would accurately reflect what they do, while also shaping their actions?

I don't mean to pick on anyone or any church. I bring out this state of nomenclature to identify a lag between emergent thinking and emerging church structures. I certainly have more to contemplate, and will be more aware of what our labels, or lack thereof, say about our communities.

Emeging Leadership and Nomenclature: Part 2

Emerging Leadership?

Previously, I briefly reviewed my understanding of how leadership has evolved through the centuries. As I examine leadership in the era of change from a modern mindset to a postmodern one (whatever that means), it seems that little is changing.

When I explore what leadership actually looks like in emerging churches, I get a very modern picture of leadership. (Please note: When I say "explore" I usually mean by engaging a church's website, which is far from an accurate picture, but I still believe that much can be learned about leadership in how it is presented.) Some churches, such as Imago Dei, have a board of elders that includes all the pastoral staff, and a board of directors (program directors, I presume). At Solomon's Porch, there are dedicated staff members and a Leadership Co-Op (with the senior pastor always being a member) composed of members that are elected for two year terms, with only two consecutive terms permitted. From the description, the Leadership Co-Op acts like a board of directors of a corporation, hiring and firing, and overseeing the budget while putting out communal fires. Jacob's Well is apparently similar.

What is my point? I don't know. (Thinking out loud here, remember!) I guess when I look at all these emerging churches, I expect to see new, emerging forms of leadership. Instead, the structures remain the same, there is just more diversity of people. All these churches have a lead pastor. Essentially, it seems the leadership structure is still very modern, with one primary voice and the corporate board of directors dealing with the budget and "big issues." Why are there no co-pastors? Is there something inherent to spiritual leadership that demands only one prominent voice? Or is it that our structures have not caught up to emerging rhetoric?

In our house church, we have no official leaders. Jared and I step up to the plate with our natural leadership abilities frequently, but each is often not able to accomplish what we would like or envision, simply because the community doesn't want to or has another idea. Jared is the "prophetic voice" so to speak, so he is often viewed by visitors as the pastor, but that is likely to change as we recently decided to try some different approaches, getting even more people involved with feeding and leading thoughts. But we have had our share of challenges in terms of decision making as a community. And there are small, practical issues every once in a while.

So maybe the one-voice, board oversight structure is not a "modern" function. Perhaps it is the most logical for our human condition, the concept that has survived the "evolutionary" forces of social change through the centuries. Or perhaps, there can be a different form of leadership, intensely spiritual, yet looking nothing like modern churches. Perhaps the lack of new leadership structures in general, even among emerging churches, and the hardships we face in our home church, are just evidence that we are still in the early staging of emerging from a modern mindset, at least in the church. And then again, to throw a wrench in it, there are some who see emerging spiritual culture looking for the ancient paths of epistemology and ecclesiology. Perhaps emerging churches will actually become more hierarchical as the importance of community formation and voice are emphasized.

"How many licks does it take to get the center of a Tootsie Roll Pop? The world may never know."

Emerging Leadership and Nomenclature: Part 1

Introduction to this series of thoughts:

To many people, the concepts of leadership and nomenclature have little to do with each other. But I have realized that the two are intimately connected. In fact, for emerging generations who are very sensitive to labels, titles, and names, nomenclature is constantly being considered. Even the very carefully conceived concept of "emergent" as a conversation demonstrates this important connection between nomenclature and concept formation. Another case in point: look at a list of church names who are part of the emerging conversation (Imago Dei, Solomon's Porch, Jacob's Well, The Center, One Place, etc). These carefully chosen names are not only meant to reflect the values of the community, but to shape them as well. I'll talk more about nomenclature, especially as it relates to leadership, in my second post. In this post, I want to talk out loud about leadership and the emerging church.

Again, I'm just going to be "talking out loud" here. I struggle for a picture of what spiritual leadership can/should look like in the church of the 21st Century. The original, ancient church (Israel) was governed by tribal leaders, older men mostly (I assume). There would be wise heroes who would lead by example and gain admiration and "authority" by acting boldly, decisively, and wisely, during the time of the judges. Then came the Kingdom, with all the bureaucracy that that entails. Again, mostly dominated by men, who either inherited their power, earned it through war, or gained influence through wisdom.

What was leadership like in the New Israel, the church of Jesus Christ? Again, it is difficult to say how they actually functioned. But it seems that there were prominent, gifted men who led by example and went about the known world encouraging and preaching. Local communities of believers apparently had groups of elders (also called pastors, shepherds, bishops, presbyters) who were anointed and led the community. Of course, in a male-dominated society with well-established social and communal hierarchies, this form of communal leadership made sense, and would have been a natural state, neither forced nor artificial. Throughout history, it began to be more common, and even expected, to have one leading voice, one top dog (so to speak) oversee the community. Often supported by a council of some sort, this main leader would be the face (and voice) of the community. This is very much the model of leadership in most modern churches. And it makes sense in a modern mindset, where objectivity and reason are thought to lead to inescapable conclusions, ultimately leading to a saving faith. It makes sense, in this mindset, to have one voice, usually a well-trained (translation - seminarian) individual who can reason well, knows his or her facts well, and can articulate a mechanistic formula for continued survival and growth. This often involves overseeing a corporate-style institutional staff of people hired to accomplish specific tasks. The modern church looks very much like a large corporation (very generally speaking).

But emerging generations are more egalitarian. They are more persuaded by the communal voice than the single voice. "Knowledge" is fluid, and facts are readily shared. So emerging churches often emphasize the communal nature of decision making. They want to emphasize the diversity of its leadership, and its more horizontal structure.

I hope to explore this interplay of modern and postmodern leadership ethos in my next post.

A Minority's Report

I have been thinking a lot recently about group dynamics, especially relating to minorities. I'm not talking specifically about racial minorities; rather, minorities of thought/opinion have been more my focus.

What would a white male offspring of suburban middle-class parents know about minorities? Fair question. That's been part of my ponderings. I first became aware of what it was like to be a minority in medical school. When I chose to pursue Osteopathic Medicine, I chose a minority pathway to becoming a physician. According to the American Osteopathic Association's Osteopathic.org, only 6% of the physicians in the U.S. are DOs. I don't want to go in depth in the history and differences, but that site provides a great overview. Anyway, DOs have been scorned, castigated, ridiculed and segregated in the past. In fact, in the 1960s the American Medical Association (AMA) helped pass a law in California banning Osteopathic Medicine. The former Osteopathic Medical school in California became the University of California, Irvine, School of Medicine. This absorptive process involved granting the MD degree to DOs for $65 so that they could continue to practice... as MDs. Ironically, people later realized that the AMA had acknowledged the equality of DOs with MDs in granting the diploma so easily, and full integration and acceptance developed swiftly thereafter.

While I have never personally be discriminated against (that I know of) for being a DO, it does happen, especially in highly competitive fields and residencies. The Osteopathic profession has struggled for years on how to define ourselves and our relationship to our fellow physicians. Simplified, the issue revolves around identity. If we stress our uniqueness, and treasure our heritage, we risk self-segregating and producing foolish duplication of services and programs. If we pursue complete integration, minimizing our differences, we risk losing our identity and heritage, as people question why there are two types of medical schools and degrees, if they are so similar. This struggle has been a part of the psyche of many minorities throughout history.

I in no way mean to equate being a DO with being a racial minority, or other minorities based on inherent biological factors. But there were huge lessons for me to learn about the issues and discrimination faced by minorities.

Which brings me to my original ponderings. I have found myself more and more in the "minority" opinion on several church issues. Some are theological, some are practical, and some are silly little differences. But as I have pondered my "status" as a minority, and how that makes me feel, I have a deeper understanding of "division" than I have recently.

You see, I have begun understanding why some division/separation occurs. Growing up, I understood division(religiously speaking) to be wrong, but it was also the natural result of "error" and human desire, and therefore was unavoidable. In fact, it was important to maintain. As I emerged from that box of thinking, I began to see division as a lack of understanding. All division could be avoided if everyone took the time to learn the same facts. That seemed woefully inadequate an explanation, and I no longer accepted salvation by "knowledge", so that cause was thrown out. Then I began seeing division mostly as a matter of personality and spiritual pathways. This is my most effective lens with which to currently view division.

But I am beginning to see other factors play a role; one that would have eluded me previously. The role of "minority" can be very taxing. If this is true in terms of thoughts, I can only imagine the burden felt by racial minorities and other "true" minorities. Perhaps another contributing reason for division is simply a need to not be the minority. Regardless of what the issues are or what the reasoning is, there is a very real weight of being a minority. I do not support division. I will continue to work for unity (not uniformity). But I will also acknowledge the weight of minority views, and be more generous as minorities fall back and reconstitute as relative majorities.

So the question is, how can this tendency be counteracted? Can it be counteracted? Should it be counteracted? These questions are of less importance to me personally (because I am often in the majority, and can understand the philosophical construct in which my dissonance is placed), but has much more profound implications for how I relate to others, particularly racial minorities and theological views in groups outside of my home church.

My recent readings in Who's Afraid of Postmodernism? is making it all the more interesting to wrestle with these questions. Hopefully, more on that book later.

Lessons of the Desert – Part 2: Living Close to the Land

This is me on January 1, 2007, outside my parent's house. Yes, their deciduous tree had not yet lost all its leaves; yes, the bushes are in bloom; and yes, it was actually warm enough to wear shorts.

The strangeness of this scene leads to another lesson that was driven home to me while in Arizona. It is the ability of people to collectively ignore the obvious rhythms and balance of the land.

Now, I'm one of the few people, perhaps, who really doesn't mind lots of rain and clouds. Don't get me wrong, it bears on my psyche like everyone else. But I have a rationale appreciation for it, especially coming from Arizona.

A few years ago this appreciation was crystallized as I spent time around Puget Sound. Several days there were, of course, cloudy. But as I gazed upon the ocean, the waves cresting, the rhythmic movement and the swirls of variegated color, I saw similar patterns in the clouds above. I felt comfort in the clouds as I saw them as an extension of the ocean. It was as though the ocean was giving itself to the land, in the form of clouds. As though the very essence of the ocean was above instead of beside the land. There is a great connection between the ocean and its defining life-giving water and its gift, clouds. To this day, I can look up at the rolling clouds and feel some of the same things I do when gazing upon the mighty ocean.

How does this have anything to do with the arid experience I had in Arizona? Many people who are from Arizona, and almost all who move there, are totally disconnected from the rhythm, cycles, and lessons of the Sonoran Desert. Settlements in deserts have historically been limited in size due to the limits of the environment. There is typically little wood for construction, the land is not as productive as other places, even with water, and there is a natural amount of water that is replenished, but this is rather limited. Phoenix gets an average of 7 inches of rain per year. Yuma gets only about 2 inches. But this matters little, now that we can import wood easily, dig deeper wells, and dam even more rivers. We have air conditioning and fertilizers and rapid importation of food. With trimmed yards, lots of concrete, air conditioned buildings and cars, sprinkler systems, and cookie-cutter neighborhoods, there is a complete disconnect from that delicate balance of the desert. There is no consideration of the drain and lack of water or the imbalance that rapid growth causes.

When I was in the Pacific Northwest, I felt keenly aware of that balance. Life needs water, and the ocean was willing to give it bountifully in the Pacific Northwest. Many look at that as a problem. Yet, historically, the Native Americans living in the Pacific Northwest were among the wealthiest, because of the abundance of nature. Other groups, such as the Hopi of the desert Southwest, have always been limited in number, scratching out a living on the dry, arid mesas of the high desert. But they have been able to survive the harsh environment because they live in harmony with it. There is balance.

Phoenix is a great place to live. There are no blizzards, hurricanes, earthquakes, tsunamis, tornadoes, etc. The year-long sunshine and warmth is attractive, especially for those with mood disorders and arthritis. But the ability of humanity to cut itself from contact and enmeshment with nature has allowed people to ignorantly offset the balance. I am drawn now to learning more about God's patterns in nature; what He gives through it, and what we are to learn from it. We are created as a part of, and from, the creation itself. I want to start living in more intimate relationship with the incredibly vibrant creation I find myself in. I want to live closer to the land.

Lessons of the Desert - Part 1: The Frenetic Folly of Flourishing Phoenix

I had the joyous opportunity of New Year's to visit my home town of Phoenix. I always enjoy seeing family and friends. And it amazes me how much has changed.

As many people know, the Valley of the Sun (a misnomer, as the metro area long ago "spilled over" several of the original boundary hills and mountains) is a sprawling metro area with almost 4 million people. Statistics I just heard a few weeks ago claimed that Arizona regained its title from Nevada as the fastest growing state. It now has about 6 million residents, and is just 300,000 people away from surpassing the political powerhouse of Massachusetts. The city of Phoenix itself is home to over 1.3 million people (making it the 6th largest U.S. city), is 475 square miles (the 10th largest by land size), and is the largest state capital in the nation (by population) [see Wikipedia entry].

All this growth is exciting. As many people know, a brand new NFL Stadium (the University of Phoenix Stadium) was home to the BCS Championship, and will host the 2008 Super Bowl.

This is a picture I took while driving around the area. The stadium is amazing... it has a retractable roof, but the field itself is on wheels, and rolls out to grow the grass in the sun, then slides into the stadium for play. Totally crazy! But as you can see, it was built in the middle of farm fields in Glendale. Growth is now frenetic around the new stadium. But this growth is draining the city center of Phoenix. At one time, downtown Phoenix was a ghost town after 6 pm. There was nothing but offices there. Then, in the 1990s, a revitalization was started. It made great progress as the new basketball arena and baseball field were built, and entertainment venues and restaurants followed. At that time, the Suns and Mercury basketball teams, the Diamondback baseball team, and the Coyotes hockey teams all played downtown. Condos and townhouses, and the business that cater to them, began infilling the area.

But this was not to last. The Coyotes play in a brand new arena just 1/2 mile north of the new Cardinal's stadium. And, as you can imagine, much of the energy of growth has now been diverted from the city center.


This is a look toward the stadium (the silver dome between the two palms) from the new Cabella's Showroom. This development is called Westgate, and is still being built. It includes movie theaters, condos/apartments, restaurants, and shops.

The whole area around the stadiums is being built up by the day. From the same parking lot as the above picture was taken from, you can see hundreds, if not thousands, of apartments being built.

All this frenetic growth is exciting. There is an incredible feeling being apart of something new. You can literally see the principle of "If you build it, they will come" in action. There is a strong siren call from the cranes and construction trucks.

But when I step back and look at what is happening, it seems to be so foolish. Most other metro areas have learned that if you continue to grow only at the periphery, the core dies, and the whole metro area suffers. Most are working to bring growth to the core areas of a city. This does several things. It brings jobs to areas devoid of opportunity, thus creating wealth not otherwise available. It makes mass transit more economical and effective. It creates more intense communities as people begin living in higher density than they would otherwise. I need not go on.

Phoenix's benefits and problems are myriad. Some of the biggest problems people face (severe pollution, traffic jams, lack of effective public transportation, lack of a cultural center, and lack of community) are made even worse by the sprawling growth of battling suburbs (Consider that Glendale, a western suburb, has over 230,000 people, while Mesa, an eastern suburb, has over 440,000 people! And that is just two of the 2o or so suburbs!)

The frenetic growth of Phoenix is exciting, and alluring. But I can't help to think of the folly of such outlying, unplanned, uncontrolled growth. I hope they learn soon.

A burst of (very delayed) outrage

It finally happened. I finally saw Hotel Rwanda for the first time. It was a long time in coming. It was one of those movies everyone who knew me said, "Tony, you've got to see it." Indeed, I have always wanted to. So, here I am at my parents house after the big Wedding Vow Renewal Ceremony (which went great!). It was my first evening alone in a week, so I got some Chinese take out and came home to find a movie on TV to watch. I found Hotel Rwanda on cable, and decided it was time. I knew it was time for a couple of reasons. First, I was already in a very contemplative mood having been through an emotional day and pondering life and stuff. Also, I knew that I would cry (as anyone who knows me would expect), and for that, I needed to be alone.

Enough background. I'm enraged. I cried at the horror... not so much of the massacre, though the numbers were numbing. But the loss of humanity. I cried in anger... why did those with power sit by helpless. I cried in frustration (the most powerful source of my agony)... because it still happens. Whether it is a subtle discrimination at work, or genocide in a country far away, those with "power" don't use their power to help the neediest. In fact, they create the oppression, the division, the hate. Although I don't know the exact historical accuracy of the claims in the movie (that the Hutu/Tutsi division was almost entirely created by Westerners evaluating physical characteristics), there are plenty of examples of the great "moral" West creating division, hate, and cruelty, and then sitting idly by when those feelings birth violence, death, and destruction. I would like to say that such things were done in the past, but we are better now. Really? How many died in Rwanda before anyone even considered intervening? How many must die in Darfur while Western "powers" talk of peace? Where are the Christian peacemakers? Where are the Christian soldiers of Christ who will stand in the breech and rather die with the oppressed than look away from the murders?

I'm guilty. I feel powerless. I'm helpless to help. Or am I. I don't have to run across the world and stand in front of a tank. I can pray to the Father. I can let his Spirit move me, if I will just listen. I can write those in power, make them aware. Participate in things like the Global Night Commute (which did help raise awareness, and likely helped strike a peace agreement... the end result has been much less kidnappings and therefore less need for night commuting, praise God!). Governments are often a source of the problem and only rarely a part of the solution. I need to find ways to help those that I can. This year, I'm going to try to get more information, and more involved in whatever ways I can to be God's servant, bringing peace and healing to the nations. God help me, and God help us all.

Insights from Isaiah

On Sunday I visited my parent's home church, where I grew up. I know a lot of people there, and have a lot of fond memories and role models/mentors there. The preacher, Brent, pointed out some things that I had never really noticed. I'm not sure I totally agree with his whole perspective, but it is compelling and exciting to consider. He pointed out that just as someone would turn to the Book of Psalms to know David's heart, so too would someone turn to Isaiah to know the heart of Jesus. He points out that there seems to be four "Messiah" Psalms, or songs, in Isaiah. He seems to believe that Isaiah was the mouthpiece of the Word, the pre-incarnate Jesus, and these four songs reveal the heart of Jesus. We are most familiar with the 4th Song of the Messiah, in Isaiah 52:13-53:12. But it starts with the 1st Song, in Isaiah 42, particularly verses 1 through 9, which promises a Servant of compassion and justice. The 2nd Song is Isaiah 49:1-13. Here you seem to have the revealed heart of the Messiah, struggling with the stubborness of God's people, and wondering if everything he's done and about to do is worth it. And God says resoundingly, "Yes! I will strengthen you, and you will be successful not only in bringing Israel back to me, but also the Gentiles." The 3rd Song is in Isaiah 50:4-11, which reveals the "self-speak" of the Servant, strengthening his will to obey God. The final Song is the one mentioned first, starting in Isaiah 52:13. Of course, this is the famous "suffering Servant" song.

This perspective and ordering are fascinating, and worthy of days of discussion and study. But something even more striking resonated with me and where I am in my spiritual journey. In our house church, Jared Coleman, our Resident Thought Provoker, recently reiterated an important aspect of Christianity. That aspect is that we are to be a royal priesthood. One implication is that we are to function as mediators of God to humanity. (This is in contrast to many perspectives on Christianity, that seem to categorize people as either a royal son or daughter of the Father, or as dogs who are ignored by God; in other words, you're either in or your ignored by God. But God's plan is for his people to share their blessings, to show him to the world, to serve them in his name). Anyway, Brent pointed out what I believe to be another way of thinking about the Christian's commission. In Isaiah 42:1 (NLT), he says, "Look at my servant, whom I strengthen. He is my chosen one, and I am please with him." This definitely has reference to the Messiah, Jesus. Jesus is the ultimate servant of God. Contrast that with Israel. In verses 18 and 19: "Oh, how deaf and blind you are toward me! Why won't you listen? Why do you refuse to see? Who in all the world is as blind as my own people, my servant? Who is as deaf as my messengers? Who is as blind as my chosen people, the servant of the LORD?" (NLT). The contrast within the same passage could get confusing. But it is powerful. Israel was intended by God to be his servant, the one with whom he was well pleased. But Israel failed. Miserably. So, Jesus came to be that servant of God. But what was God's servant supposed to do? Bring food to him? Praise his name? No. He was not to be some earth-bound angel. Phrases from these Messiah Songs tell us what God's servant was supposed to do. Reveal justice and be merciful to all the nations (42:1-4); a light to the nations (42:6); free captives, give sight to the blind (42:7); restores relationships (49:6); speak wisdom and comfort to the weary (50:4); does not hide in shame from the beating the world gives (50:5-6); carry the burdens of the weak (53:4); etc, etc. Isreal was to do this in the world; he Law was set up to share these thoughts and principles with Mankind. But she failed. And God stepped in, and gave of himself to be this servant of God. Though he would belong to God, he would not primarily serve God, but serve Mankind.

As the new Israel, we are called to be God's servants. In Christ, we become the faithful servant of God. This is a powerful message that I need to be reminded of often.

A Brief Update

It has been a while since my last post. Too long. I have been busy. Just a brief update before starting some new posts. This fall, my mom came out for two weeks to visit (my dad had a medical procedure done and couldn't come). One of those weeks she and I went to Washington, DC. I'll have more pics and post later. Let's see... I also had a really great Fall Harvest Costume Party (again, more post and pics to come). I had a phenomenal time at Christmas... well, Christmas eve. We (our church) met for what ended up being over 7 hours. We met, had our meal, had a devotional of singing and scripture reading, and then began the 5 hour long process of sharing our blessings. It was great! I'm in Phoenix right now, spending the week of New Year's in Phoenix. Tomorrow, January 6, 2007, will be my parents' 35th wedding anniversary. My parents eloped in Alaska (where my dad was stationed in the Army), and so my mom never got a real wedding ceremony. It is my sister's and my great honor to through my mom (and Dad, though he had to be brought in on it) a surprise 35th Anniversary Wedding Vow Renewal Ceremony. It will be at a resort, with 50 or so family and friends, complete with tuxes, officiate, decorations, a sit-down reception, cake, etc. She'll love it!

Back in March, our house church had a sort of "crisis" that led to a few months of exploring our direction. Long story short, we realized what our strengths were, and decided to build on them (primarily, relationships and flexibility). So, things are going strong. We have several new "family" members, and more on the way (Jen will be moving to Ohio shortly after getting back from visiting friends in China).

Overall, things have been really great. As I look forward to 2007, I already have several things planned. I plan on going to Orlando in March for the ACOFP (American College of Osteopathic Physicians) Annual Convention with some fellow physicians and good friends. I've never been to Orlando, so I'm looking forward to it. Then in April, Jared Coleman and I will be attending an Emergent "Philosophical" Discussion at Eastern University entitled "What would Jesus deconstruct? A discussion on justice." I'm totally looking forward to that. In October, I hope to spend a week with my immediate and extended family in a chalet in the White Mountains of Arizona. At work, one of the three family physicians is being sent on his second 4 month tour in Iraq as a National Guard physician, so that will make my work life VERY busy from February to June.

I am hoping to post more about past trips, and try to keep up with them, as well as some thoughts about life, religion, church, and politics (yeah, they really can't... or shouldn't... be separated!).