Every Pastor Needs a Pastor

Posted on July 1, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Christian leaders are in trouble. And when the leaders are in trouble the Church is in trouble. Our culture, both inside and outside the church is grinding down Christian leaders.

According to Thabiti Anyabwile one of the pastors of Anacostia River Church in Southeast DC, in an article he wrote for the website 9Marks back in 2014:

50% of the ministers starting out will not last 5 years.

1 out of every 10 ministers will actually retire as a minister in some form.

4,000 new churches begin each year and 7,000 churches close.

Over 1,700 pastors left the ministry every month last year.

Over 1,300 pastors were terminated by the local church each month, many without cause.

What if we were to offer Soul Care to ministers and their families early and often? When I was a boy my father, who was a pastor, had a man who worked for our denomination he considered his pastor. I’ll never forget the name, Wendell Grant. My father and mother respected and felt safe with Mr. Grant. I heard his name spoken with the reverence that comes from a life of impact on young ministers in our home. I believe we need to go back to finding pastors for our pastors. We all need a pastor who will ask hard questions and challenge our motives, values and ideas. We need a pastor who will hurt with us, listen to us, and pray with us. Every pastor needs a pastor for the health of their own souls and the souls of his or her spouse and families.

In the early 90’s on a large game preserve in South Africa the rangers began to notice that white rhinoceroses were being killed by much larger animals. Turns out the killers were adolescent bull elephants. These elephants had been orphaned and were left on the reserve to fend for themselves. In the wild, the males herd together and the older and much larger bulls keep the younger bulls in check. Without the older bulls to model adult elephant behavior and the gravitas to challenge the younger bulls—they were doing great damage.

I believe that many younger pastors needs an older pastor—a seasoned pastor, a tough old pastor, a scarred old bull—to come alongside them and “be” with them. This “being” would include praying with them, asking about their soul, inquiring about their families—and sometimes asking very hard questions about their private life. The wisdom that can only come from experience is missing in many younger pastors life. It would be important that these young “bulls” respect the older bull because they will challenge him and he has to be able to hold his own. He must be filled with grace to offer to a pastor who is hurting and at the same time he must be unflinchingly willing to speak truth into their lives.

How could this benefit the Kingdom? What if someone was willing to travel to meet with a pastor, listen to him, pray with him, believe in him, challenge him, and walk with him for years? What if there were retreats, seminars and other resources offered him and his wife specifically designed to care for their interior life? What if a pastor-to-pastor relationship was established so that if he needed to call someone in the middle of the night when he was tempted to look at an inappropriate website he felt safe to call his “pastor?”

Can you imagine the carnage that would be avoided? And what about the man who never fails morally, but who quits because he just too tired to go on? Or what about the man who settles for a sub-standard ministry of mediocrity because he is bored and lives an unchallenged life? What if someone was dedicated to caring for his soul?

Qualified Soul Care might keep a pastor from falling into moral failure so that a family and a church never fragment into a million pieces.  What if a pastor never had to tell his sons that their father has been unfaithful to their mother? What if a denominational leader never had to go to a devastated and betrayed church to mitigate the grief of a forced termination of a pastor?

How do you measure something that NEVER happened? It is likely incalculable.

It is time for soul-mentoring to be more highly valued than numerical success in the American church culture. If we don’t pay attention to the health of the souls of our younger leaders, we run the risk of waking up one day only to find one dead ministry after another littering our American landscape.

Christian leaders are at risk, but we are not a people without hope. We have the time-tested disciplines of the Church that are simply waiting to be re-introduced into a modern age.   I sense that the younger generations of pastors are very eager to learn from older leaders who value their souls, whether they know it now or not. We have the presence of the Holy Spirit, we have the energized dynamic of resurrection power, and we have wounded healers limping around who are willing to serve Jesus by serving pastors.

Whoever walks with the wise becomes wise, but the companion of fools will suffer harm.  Proverbs 13:20.

Old bulls walking with young bulls.

That’s me on the left.

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What is Shaping Your Soul?

Posted on June 26, 2014 by Joe Chambers

The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. ~King David

I am a willing victim of my times. This culture shapes and forms me into exactly what it wants me to be. I have become an automaton railing against the system that whets my appetites for newer and shinier stuff and then I buy it as soon as no one is looking. Sometimes I fool myself by going to the thrift store to buy it after someone else has had their fill, but I am a consumer either way.

It doesn’t matter what “it” is. Could be anything. Could be the latest book, backpack, music CD, Planet of the Apes movie, or new Droid phone. I am a sucker for the marketing machine. They have me on the end of their line like a trout and are reeling me in. I say I am free to choose, but over and over again I confuse delay with refusal. I convince myself that if I delay a purchase or buy it on sale that I am sticking it to the man. But it is a ruse.

When We Were Young

We haven’t always been this way as a culture. After WWI we figured out how to create mass quantities of “stuff” at relatively efficient rates of exchange. Then we hired people to create a sense of desire where there was once contentment. They didn’t want to use the word “propaganda,” so the term “public relations” was coined and it slipped right by us.

We must shift America from a needs- to a desires-culture. People must be trained to desire, to want new things, even before the old have been entirely consumed. […] Man’s desires must overshadow his needs.  ~Paul Mazur, Lehman Brothers, circa 1927

My mother might remember a time when wearing a dress made of used flour sacks was acceptable and desired. I doubt she was ever content with homemade items, but I know 9c122000f5c7cc43bf1db7a1394ff758for certain I was never content with homemade stuff. My earliest memories are of watching Saturday morning cartoons where commercials for Johnny Quest action figures, pearl-handled six-shooters in genuine simulated leather holsters, Easy Bake Ovens, Hot Wheels, and Mrs. Beasley dolls were splashed with no shame every few cliff-hanging minutes on the television.

Today toys have changed but the desire-arousal commercials bring is still the same. My grandchildren were playing in the living room recently while Lynette and I watched a show; they were oblivious to it. But when a commercial came on, they stopped playing and watched the sixty second ad. I am convinced that advertising departments in corporate America have figured out a way to subliminally tap into our appetites. They’ve done something to capture the attention and imagination of three-year-olds long enough to stop them in full-throttle fun. Next time you are around small children, watch what happens when commercials come on the TV.

 The Culture is Shaping the Church

Even in church circles we have adopted the consumer approach to life. In the ‘90s it became popular to preach to the “felt needs” of the people. Sermon series were marketed to arouse interest, attract a crowd, and grow a church. I know because I was a card-carrying member of the church-growth crowd; I have file folder after file folder of notes on felt need sermons to prove it. It is all pabulum at best and downright emotional pornography at worst. This is still around today.

We pastor types used to say about converting unbelievers that “you have to get them lost before you can get them saved.” Think about that statement. I have to convince you that you are going to hell before I can rescue you from your destination. I have to sell you on the idea that you are unhappy in order to tell you about Jesus, who won’t make you happy but will take you to heaven when you die. What’s more, if you’re a person of some means, you may have to go through some great tragedy to be desperate enough to become a Christian. Really? On more than one occasion I have heard a pastor say the reason it is so hard for rich people to become a follower of Jesus is because they can buy just enough happiness that they don’t have to listen to the aches and pang of their souls.

I am a man of many wants. Most of my clothes come from thrift stores, but I shop a couple times a week for more used items. I have more books than I can possible read and cassette tapes of sermons that are thirty years old. I have backpacking gear I will never use again and socks that long ago lost their sole mates. (sorry) Am I becoming a hoarder?

What do I need to flourish as a person? I love what the late preacher Ron Dunn said, “You will never really know that Jesus is all that you need until Jesus is all you’ve got. Then and only then will you know that Jesus is all that you need.” Let that sink into your busy mind. What do you really need to flourish for all of eternity?

Jesus, just Jesus. Or as Tullian Tchividjian said, “Jesus + Nothing = Everything.”

Shape Your Soul…Shape Your Church

What do we need to wean ourselves off this torpor-inducing existence in the very ethos of our culture? Even in our church culture? May I suggest some ideas?

  1. Question my wants.

If I don’t have that new smart phone, will I get farther and farther behind in what is considered cool by cool people? If I don’t get that promotion, will my existence not be validated? If I can’t turn heads with my beauty, will I not be loved? If I can’t drive that car and live in that house and be able to go on those vacations, then ____________?

When I trained for marathons and saw someone running while I was driving I would think, “Dang it! They are getting ahead of me.” But they weren’t.  I wasn’t racing them.  I was just training to race against myself.  I don’t have to have the stuff others have. I don’t have to keep up.  It’s not a race.  It’s all soul training.

Don’t trust your heart when it comes to desires. Remember what the prophet said in Jeremiah 17:9, “The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked: who can know it?”

I’ve started to ask myself: What lie am I telling myself that makes this want feel like a need?

2. Turn down the volume.

The white noise of our culture is engineered to shape our souls to the point that we confuse wants with needs. Therefore, I have to ruthlessly omit this kind of soul clutter from my life. If I can’t be shut of it, I at least have to take steps to diminish its impact on my very malleable soul.

A couple of simple steps is to watch only recorded shows and fast forward through the advertisements. I’ve begun to mute the sound during commercials. Budget what you listen to or watch much as you might cut sweets or soda from your diet. It’s summertime—go for a walk and pay attention to creation. Do what you told your kids to do when they were little, “Get outside!”

3. Walk with the Shepherd.

When I spend time alone in quiet with Jesus, my world starts to shrink and my God starts to enlarge. I can’t explain it very well, but the simple truth is when I sit still, open my head, heart and hands towards Jesus, I feel His presence and all troubles still present, begin to diminish in His shadow.

My father used to sing a song when I was a boy that has found its way on my lips more than a few times in recent days:

Fill my cup, Lord; I lift it up Lord; Come and quench this thirsting of my soul. Bread of Heaven, feed me till I want no more. Fill my cup, fill it up and make me whole.

I’ve decided that I will repent of cooperating with the culture as it tries to influence and shape my soul according to its predetermined schemes. I think the Shepherd has a better way. It is slower and the adrenalin rush is not as sensuous, but the benefits to my soul are incalculable.

Ultimately I have to ask myself the question: Do I want to cooperate with a flawed culture as it shapes my soul and tells me what to want OR will I follow my Shepherd into green pastures and still waters?

A willing victim or a faithful sheep? sheep-with-shepherd

I don’t know how much of God you have, but you have as much of God as you want.

Lord, remind me that what I want the most shapes my soul the most.

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Helter Mercy

Posted on June 18, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Jesus asked him, “What is your name?” He replied, “My name is Legion, for we are many.” Mark 5:9

A pretty girl started coming to our church when I was a sophomore in high school and I asked her out. We began dating. She said she had recently broken up with the school thug. Said that it was over; said she was free to date who ever she wanted. She was wrong.

A few days later I was walking down the hallways towards the parking lot to drive home when my brother saw me and grabbed my arm to say, “He’s out in the parking lot. He’s waiting for you. He’s going to kill you.”

“Oh,” I said.

Walking through the parking lot didn’t seem like such a good idea. That’s where many fights occurred in our school. I had even seen a knife fight out there.

“I’m going to the library,” I told my brother.

“What? You never go to the library.”

“I know. No one will look for me there. Go tell dad on him.” I said.

I stayed in the library for a couple of hours. I eventually snuck out to the front door of the school and could see that the parking lot was empty and the threat was gone. I waited for my father to arrive.

That evening I went to work at Burger King where he showed up there to drag me out into the parking lot and beat the fool out of me. The manager had been an all-state heavy weight wrestler and he jumped over the front counter and told my enemy that he couldn’t have it his way today.

A few weeks later I was with her at a basketball game when he showed up and stood at the exit. She leaned over to me and asked if she could go talk to him. Two things flashed in my seventeen year old mind: One, why was she asking permission to go talk to anyone? Second, yes, by all means, go talk to the guy.

After their conversation he stepped out through the exit; she came back and sat beside me. Trying to act cool and not scared spitless—I didn’t even ask her what they talked about, I just watched the game and when it was over and we walked out of the gym. Just outside, leaning against the brick wall, was my enemy. My girlfriend was on my arm and, dadgummit, I was going to walk her to my car and finish our date. No one was going to run interference for me out here in the parking lot now.

I glanced at him, nodded my head, and kept walking. We were parallel with him, then a little past him, and all the while I kept thinking I was going to be jumped from behind. It never happened. We got in my car and drove off and enjoyed our date. I never had issues with him again.

Much later I found out two things: One, he went to prison for cutting a man’s throat during a drug deal gone bad. Second, he thought I looked like Charles Manson and that’s why he always hesitated to fight me.

manson
Do you have an enemy?

On the eastern shores of Galilee Jesus encounters a man who had an enemy that was much stronger than he was. He is a creature you would probably meet only in your worst nightmares, if even there. He is a man possessed with demons. They drive him to violence. They drive him to cry out like a wild dog howling in the night. They drive him to the solitary places—in the hills, among the tombs.

There he acts like a rabid animal, living on the ragged, outer fringe of humanity. Luke tells us that it has been a long time since he’s worn clothes or lived in a house. There are no houses in Palestine for men like him. No hospitals. No asylums. He has no place to go…his only refuge are the holes dug in the hillside, used to bury the dead.

His hair is a matted tangle of filth. His body is scarred white around his wrists and ankles where manacles once tried to restrain him. He is covered with scares from self-inflicted wounds. He barely resembles a human. How did the image of God become so marred and defaced? How did he get to where he is now? How did he end here—his only home, a tomb; his only companions, demons?

We don’t know…but now his body is a beachhead for Satan. And it is onto this beachhead that Jesus now lands.

Jesus is so much stronger than our strongest enemy. And on those chalky hills that day ‘Legion’ was restored.  He was integrated again.  All because of his encounter with the one who made him.

I don’t know who your enemy is—it might be the school bully, your boss, or even your self-destructive tendencies. But here’s what I do know: The Lord of the Mercy is your best protector from your enemy.
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Tell God on your enemy.

Charlie Manson, really?

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Mary Lou Retton and the Southern Baptist Convetion

Posted on June 10, 2014 by Joe Chambers

“Psssst! You better get off that stage, Chambers.  Security is going to come to get you.”

I struggled to recall how I knew the familiar face; then it dawned on me that we had both attended Howard Payne University in Brownwood, Texas. He had known me as a preacher boy, always in trouble for the pranks I got into at school. Now, I wore a navy blue suit and sat on the platform at the beginning of the 1993 Southern Baptist Convention in Houston, Texas.

Some 30,000 messengers had made the pilgrimage to this giant convention hall to uphold the battle for the Bible and keep the momentum going in the so-called “conservative resurgence.” I sat on the dais with many dignitaries that day, but I only remember one—the 1984 Olympic gold medalist in gymnastics.  Her image covered countless magazines, and more importantly, her pixie haircut and million-dollar smile had graced the breakfast of champions—Wheaties. Mary Lou Retton’s smile almost blinded me when we were introduced.

Mary Lou Retton

I straightened my yellow paisley power tie and stuck my hand out, saying, “Hi, I’m Joe Chandler from Colorado. Chambers, I’m Joe Chambers.  Not Chandler. I don’t know anyone named Joe Chandler.”  She tilted her head to the side, flashed her smile, and said, “Nice to meet you, Joe.”

We sat down beside each other, and she mentioned that she had completed some training in Colorado Springs when she was an Olympian. She said she loved the mountains. My mouth was dry, I felt a bead of sweat track down my back, and suddenly, I ran out of anything to say. I checked our schedule on my program.  It said that I would open the Convention in prayer, and then Mary Lou would greet her hometown of Houston. An official approached and said the order had changed. My prayer was to follow Mary Lou’s greeting. We nodded and glanced at each other like we understood the new play the coach had drawn up in the commercial timeout. Mary Lou motioned for the man to come closer, whispered something in his ear, pointed to the podium, and giggled. He left on her errand with a smile.

I took a deep breath.  She smelled so good. We had mutually and silently agreed to stop trying to chit-chat. My skin prickled, and my palms got wet. I was more than a little nervous to pray before 30,000 people, God, and Mary Lou. The night before, I had been worried that I would get in front of all those Baptists and either forget my name or decide to preach, take an offering, and have an altar call. Glad I had spent some time on my very first written prayer, I reviewed it. Baptists don’t write their prayers. I had to hide the contraband inside my program because security might discover it and take me away to wear sackcloth and ashes. I asked Jesus to calm my nerves. It was the first time I prayed before I prayed.

Mary Lou was not nervous at all. Her hands were folded across her lap. She sat still, thoughtful, and ready. I was swallowing spit that was not there.  The man came back and slid a wooden step behind the podium.

“That’s odd,” I thought. Then I remembered that Mary Lou was four-foot nothin’. Without the two-step riser, the only part of Mary Lou that the audience would see would be the top of her perky little pixie head.

That’s cute, I thought.

Ed Young, Sr., introduced her, and she bounced up to a cheering and adoring crowd. I couldn’t see her face as she wooed the crowd. Still, I imagined her toothy smile and effusive personality translating well to the crowd of Southern Baptists who liked to swoon when a celebrity wasn’t ashamed to be associated with them. She had them eating out of the palm of her hand.  I began to worry that I had to follow after her.

There was a lot to process:  Please don’t look stupid in front of 30,000 Baptists, God, and Mary Lou, Joe. Drop your voice down in your register, speak slowly, and enunciate every word carefully.  Sound authoritative. Don’t sound like a funeral home director and don’t sound like you are reading your prayer.  Security is standing right over there.

Mary Lou was winding down her welcoming speech when I panicked. That man who had brought the wooden step was nowhere to be found.  What am I going to do about that step? The audience doesn’t know it is there.  Will Mary Lou move it? Do I stoop down to move it? Do I climb up the steps and stand where she stood? That would make me 7’10”.

“Dear Jesus, what do I do?”

Mary Lou concluded, “So, on behalf of the mayor and the city of Houston, let me extend my heartfelt welcome to all of you to our great city.”

The crowd went wild.  She smiled and waved two hands in the air like she had just scored a perfect 10 in the floor exercise. Then she bounded down the step, came over to me, winked, smiled at me, and said, “You’re next.”

The step is still there. She didn’t move it for me.  Where is that guy? That step is sitting there like a step of shame. Sweat is running down my back in rivulets to my nether regions. I can’t breathe.

“And now, pastor Joe Chambers from Lochwood Baptist Church in Lakewood, Colorado, will lead us in prayer.”

With one more whiff of Mary Lou and 30,000 Baptists watching me, I walked to the podium and straddled the two-step riser like I was about to deadlift a Jeep. Of course, when I did, my stance was almost three and a half feet wide, and I shrank by four inches. I imagined them thinking I had stepped into a hole.  I imagined anyone who knew me when I went to college in Texas and remembered me being 6’4”, being confused at my loss of stature. I imagined Mary Lou, seated behind me, thinking—I don’t even want to know what she was thinking.

I bowed my head and hid my red face, licked my dry lips with a sandpaper tongue, and began to slowly read my prayer:

Dear Lord,

We come before you as your children, and we need your grace. Guide our thoughts these days as we make decisions about our portion of your church. Give our president wisdom, patience, and courage to preside in a way that honors You. Help us to not be so busy being Baptists that we forget the joy of being Christians. And now, as we pause these moments at the beginning of these meetings, may we hear the soft sound of sandaled feet walking among us. And may He be pleased with our fellowship with one another. In His name I pray, amen.

Backing out of my straddle, I turned to return to my seat and sat down beside Mary Lou. My heart pounded, and my mouth was as dry as desert sand. The president thanked me and then introduced the parliamentarian and others on the main platform.

Mary Lou leaned over to me and said, “You handled that step thing well.”

“Thanks,” I said.

The man in the dark suit came back and escorted her off the platform; he told me to follow. She went behind the curtains where her people were waiting; I was told to go the other way where my people were waiting for me—30,000 rather pugilistic Baptists.

Lessons:

  1. Written prayers may not be Baptist, but they are Christian. (See The Lord’s Prayer)
  2. Praying before you pray is a pretty good idea.
  3. Worshipping celebrities is easier than worshipping God on this side of Heaven.
  4. Mary Lou Retton smells really good.
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The Cleft

Posted on June 4, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Then Peter answered and said to Jesus, “Lord, it is good for us to be here…” Matthew 17:4

Rock of Ages, cleft for me, let me hide myself in thee. ~Augustus Toplady

We took a break from the teaching session on our ‘Silence’ at Potter’s Inn in Divide, Colorado and had some time to disengage, reflect and pray in any way that seemed helpful for us.  I was going to go for a walk and Nette went to our room.  Before I left for the walk in the mountains, I went in to our room to get a jacket. Lynette was lying across the bed, propped up on an elbow, reading something from our binder.

She sighed.

I glanced at her and asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know” she said. “I guess I don’t like doing this silence and solitude stuff.  I feel uncomfortable being alone with nothing to do or distract me.”

“Why is that?”

“I guess it’s because I don’t feel like there is much down in my soul to keep me company, and it has always been difficult for me to feel like I was the ‘beloved’ of God like they are talking about.”

We laid on the bed in silence; I heard her sniffle and knew she was crying. I let a few moments pass and then asked, “If I lost my arms, legs, and voice in an accident would you still love me?”

“Yes,” she said.

“Even if I couldn’t do a single thing for you, not even thank you for loving me?”

“Of course I would love you” she said.

“Could you allow that if you would love me when there was nothing I could do to earn your love, that the infinite God of all things would love you for just the way you are?”

Sniffles and silence.

“But I don’t feel loved like that from God,” she said.

“Want to try to go for a walk?” I asked.  “I know your knee is hurting but it might be good to walk the prayer trail together.”

“Okay”

We went slowly and talked deeply. We continued to let silence linger between us as we walked the trail—holding hands.

“I want to go to ‘The Cleft’” she said.

On the side of a wooded hill, in the shade of some Ponderosa Pines is an outcropping of rocks with one larger granite rock about the size of small car that a portion had split off in such a smooth and sloping way that it forms a seat. When you sit in it and lean back you are surrounded by stone.

The Cleft

The Cleft

We climbed the hill, passing a small sign that said, “Ascent.”   The trail wound up the slope and was in no hurry.  In the nine thousand foot thin mountain air we were in no hurry either, stopping several times to catch our breath and take in the heavy pine scent of the woods.

“Wouldn’t that smell be wonderful to try to capture and breathe for ending our Sabbaths each week?” Nette asked.

We arrived at ‘The Cleft’ and stood before the pink gray stone, noticing Cairns placed here and there; serving as make shift markers of epiphanal moments from pilgrims past.

20140517_164315

I walked up to the wooden bench and sat facing downhill some twenty feet away from ‘The Cleft’ while Nette studied the Cairns and the cleft. Presently, she stepped towards the rock and sat in the chair-like split of stone.  She stroked both sides with her palms and fingers as if she were rubbing the armchair of her grandpa’s favorite chair.

“It feels like God is hugging me.  I want to sing.” She thought for a moment and then began to sing,

I love you, Lord

And I lift my voice

To worship You

Oh, my soul, rejoice!

 

Take joy my King

In what You hear

Let it be a sweet, sweet sound

In Your ear

From a distance I watched my wife transfigured. I witnessed intimacy with the Almighty and glanced about for material to erect a tabernacle—but settled for this memory instead. A breeze sighed through the pine boughs as if a choir of supplicants praised the Creator and joined in the worship with this golden angel who felt beloved in the arms of God.

 

 

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Living in Rhythm

Posted on May 30, 2014 by Joe Chambers

If you keep the Sabbath, you start to see creation not as somewhere to get away from your ordinary life but a place to frame an attentiveness to your life. ~ Eugene Peterson

Most of the things we need to be most fully alive never come in busyness. They grow in rest. ~ Mark Buchanan

He looked like the actor that played the Marlboro man in those old cigarette commercials: Good looking, squared jawed, and salt and pepper hair. He had the physique of a man who knew his way around manual labor. His face was weathered with crow’s feet lines around his eyes. He had an easy smile—a very likable man.

“What do you do for a living?” he asked.

“I’m a pastor.”

“Really! My best friend is a pastor” he said.

We talked a little about our families, our churches, and our communities. He was interested in my trip last summer on Pacific Crest Trail so I told him about some of those adventures. He said his friend the pastor was easily discouraged and asked if I struggled with discouragement very much. I said that I did from time-to-time.

“I think of Church members as adopted children, but most of them think of me as a foster parent. I expect them to stay in the family, but they are only thinking about staying until they find their true home” I said.

“Wow, I never thought of it like that. I can see why it might discourage my friend so much when folks leave the flock. Makes me glad I’m a farmer” he said as he drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair.

farmer_field_092713

We talked some more about his life, wife, kids and what he wants to do for the Kingdom.

We spent each evening over the next four nights talking about our souls and what God was teaching us about how to care for that part of us that is hidden. Each night we would ask each other what was beautiful about our day and what was brutal about our day. Our conversations ranged from trivial to the profound. We were at this retreat to learn to care for our souls. He confessed that it was hard for him to sit still. Said he was wound pretty tight. A driven man. Type A.

He seemed proud of this temperament.

That wasn’t hard to discern. We were assigned Benedictine work on the retreat and he took the most labor intensive assignment and soon was tracking how much work he got done each day. All the while we were trying to learn how to operate in rhythm like Jesus lived.

Engage—disengage.

Engage— disengage.

One evening he came to our evening discussion and said he didn’t get the ‘live in rhythm’ thing. Said it was very hard for him to accept. We talked about living that way would allow us to be present in the moment and not so distracted about what might happen in the future.

“That all sounds good but I’m not so sure it is as necessary as everyone is making it seem” he said. “I’ve done pretty well in life. I only came here for a little tweaking.”

On the last morning we were together we took the Lord’s Supper. We were instructed to break off a larger portion of the bread than we might need for ourselves and then, as the Lord prompted, go to someone in the group and give them a piece of the communion bread along with a thought, blessings or a prayer.

I went to the Marlboro Man, gave him a piece of bread, and said, “You already know how to care for your soul because you know how to care for the land that you farm. I believe God is telling you to listen to the dirt and learn how to care for the private part of your world. He wants to meet you in the dirt that you love so much. Care for your soul like you care for your soil.”

While I spoke to him these words his eyes flitted around the room when someone walked by with bread in their hands. I said a prayer for him and made to move away to someone else and he said,

“Thanks, Dana.”

“You’re welcome. I wish you peace.”

Being present is very hard for some people. They can’t seem to turn their minds off. I wonder how much they are missing from the shy member of the Trinity. It seems that the only member of the Godhead that is able to command their attention long enough to etch something on to their soul is the thunder God of Sinai. There is so much more to walking with God than the shouts from a mountain. There is the whisper of the still small voice. There is the shepherd’s voice leading me beside still waters. There’s the Father’s voice declaring that I am the beloved.  But I have to slow down and turn down the noise in my life to feel his arms around me.

“Lord, make me to lay down in green pastures, lead me beside still waters and restore my soul. Sustain in me a willing spirit.  Fill my cup, Lord. I am so easily distracted with what I didn’t get done yesterday and what I have yet to accomplish tomorrow that it is hard for me to sit still and enjoy your company.

And bless Dana—whoever he is.”

 

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A Gallilean Whisper

Posted on May 23, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Beware the barrenness of a busy life.~ Socretes

For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?~ Jesus

Selling your soul in exchange for something is a plot trope older than the story of Johann Faust. In pop culture it’s primarily conceived of in Christian terms—sell your soul to the devil, and you’ll never get to heaven but you’ll have something you want on earth, whether that’s fame, talent, love, money, or some other fifth option.

I drink coffee with folks every week who would never admit that they have sold their soul to the devil. Because they imagine the devil as a cartoon character or comic book villain. In truth he is much more beautiful and seductive than any of that. Don’t believe the lie. He is a wily one, ole Slewfoot.

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One of his favorite tactics is seduction. And part of what it means to be seduced is that the perpetrator knows our weaknesses and exploits them. Do you feel unloved? Let me adore you. Do you feel insignificant? Let me worship you. Do you feel insecure? Let me take care of you. And when we listen to the silver tongued soul-whisperer, we find our deepest thirst quenched—for the moment. We are like the frog who feels safe in the water because it is in the nature of an amphibian to find comfort there—all the while Mestophilises is gradually turning up the heat on the pot and before we know it he has made a soup of our lives.

Eugene Peterson paraphrased Jesus’ words, “What kind of deal is it to get everything you want but lose yourself? What could you ever trade your soul for?” What are you willing to wager to get what you want out of life? Are you satisfied with the life you are living? What deal have you struck?

I read recently that the soul has no external gauge so we can’t tell how full or empty or in what condition it is in. Don’t you wish it did? But there are some ways we can check the condition of our souls if we can quiet the siren song of the evil one long enough to listen to what our bodies and our souls are saying. Here are a few marks on the soul-gauge:

  • Are you easily irritated these days?
  • Are you excessively defensive when criticized?
  • Are you increasingly indecisive about relatively simple decisions?
  • Do you find yourself drawn to the refrigerator or cupboard when you aren’t even hungry?
  • Are you thinking about shortcut to success that on your better days you would not consider?
  • Can’t turn your brain off?
  • Have you made a series of bad judgments?
  • Is fear, anxiety, and worry your constant companion?
  • Do long sighs leak out of your lips like a giant balloon is being deflated? Does this happen several times a day?
  • Trouble sleeping?
  • When you relax do you feel guilty?

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There is a shy part of you that if you ignore it you will suffer tragic long-term effects. It is called your soul. Many folks I know are wagering that because the soul is hidden that it is unimportant. But the valves of your heart are hidden too, and yet if they get clogged, you are a walking time bomb.

The good news is that Jesus is very concerned with state of your soul. I want to give you two verses to ruminate upon.

Read them slowly and let the Galilean whisper become an earworm.

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. Revelation 3:20 (NRSV)

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“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” Matthew 11:28-30 (MSG)

My mother was born in Texas and has a little bit of a Texas accent when she talks even though she has lived away from that foreign country for decades. When I was a boy I remember noticing that when in the company of my aunt that my mother’s Texas accent grew more pronounced and affected. It was like the more these two sisters who love each other were in one another’s presence they spoke with the same inflections, rhythms, and tones. In fact, if you weren’t in the room with them it was hard to tell who was speaking.

You and I have a choice about whose voice we will fill our ears. It will impact your life for the good or the not-so-good. You don’t have to worry about changing your life-patterns to hear the devil. His voice is the white noise that is all around us, for he is the god of this world. Ignore him at your peril. I promise you he is not ignoring you. But will you arrange your life in such a way that your can hear the voice from Galilee?

The Faustian plot is indeed quite old, but so is the hope of the Kingdom of God…but you must listen for a still and small voice—a whisper—and you have to go to him.

Jesus says, “Are your ears awake? Listen.” Rev.3:22(MSG)

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Consumer Christianity

Posted on May 20, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Most Christian ‘believers’ tend to echo the cultural prejudices and worldviews of the dominant group in their country, with only a minority revealing any real transformation of attitudes or consciousness. It has been true of slavery and racism, classism and consumerism and issues of immigration and health care for the poor.~ Richard Rohr

It is better not to make a vow than to make one and not fulfill it. Ecclesiastes 5:5

Ever heard of commodification?  It is a sociological term that is defined as the process by which social relationships are reduced to economic exchange relationships.  You probably have a commodified relationship with your coffee shop.  You say “Hi” to the baristas and the management.  You are comfortable with the shop.  But the relationship is based on the fact that they are giving you a good product at a fair price.  But if you find another store, a little closer to home that a gives you a better product and a better price its “Goodbye old coffee shop and hello new shop!”

coffee shop

Why?  Because your relationship with that store is not as important as your personal needs.    That is a commodified relationship.  Nothing wrong with that.

But Christ-followers also have covenant relationships.  These are radically different in nature.  We have covenant relationships with our children, marriages, friendships and churches.  In these we are far more concerned with the relationship than we are with our own personal needs.  Much to my discomfort, my wife would often feed our children before she fed me or even herself.  When she and I got married we exchanged rings, said some vows, signed a document.  We entered a life-long covenant.

But an amazing phenomenon has occurred in my generation where we have commodified our covenant relationships.  That means we approach our social relationships and say something like “I will be the spouse I am supposed to be as long as you are the spouse you are supposed to be.  I will be the friend I am supposed to be as long as you are the friend you are supposed to be.  I will be the church member I am supposed to be as long as you are the church you are supposed to be…I will meet your needs as long as your are meeting my needs.”

In a covenant relationship each person meets the needs of the other person even if their own needs are not being met.  In a covenant relationship I say “I will be the spouse I am supposed to be even if you are never the spouse you are supposed to be.  I will be the friend I am supposed to be even if you are never the friend you are supposed to be.  I will be the pastor I am supposed to be even if you are never the church you are supposed to be.”

How many friendships are torn asunder because we have commodified them?  How many marriages are fragmented beyond repair because we choose to relate to each other like we do a grocery store?  And churches are hindered from establishing a beachhead on enemy shores because of an “exchange relationship.”

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I am saddened when I hear someone say they are going to separate from their spouse because they have to start taking care of their needs.  I am heartbroken when I see people leave a church because the church is no longer meeting their needs.  I am infuriated when I see a pastor leave a church because there is a prettier, wealthier and more prestigious church that will help his long-term career.  Churches are reduced to mistresses when that happens.  And it happens all the time.

I am so glad Jesus didn’t commodify His relationship with me.  “Joe, I will be the savior I am supposed to be as long as you are the Christian you are supposed to be.”  Or “I can’t go to the cross right now, because after three years of pouring myself out with these slow-witted disciples I need to start taking care of me and my relationship with the Father.”

May there be a clear line between my covenant and my commodified relationships.

Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless. Ephesians 5:25-27

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Was Jesus an Irritating Preacher?

Posted on May 13, 2014 by Joe Chambers

“Honey, I don’t think you irritated anyone at Church today. I’m proud of you.” Lynette Chambers

He left that place and came to his hometown, and his disciples followed him. 2 On the sabbath he began to teach in the synagogue, and many who heard him were astounded. Mark 6:1-2

It must have been quite an impressive sermon. The people were amazed at his authority and eloquence. And yet the more they talked about it the angrier they got. The story actually says, “They took offense at him.” Why? What was it about his sermon that so irritating?

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In Luke’s version he tells us, “All spoke well of him and were amazed at the gracious words that came from his mouth.” How can you be irritated at “gracious words?” Because the fine folks in Nazareth are like me in that I would like to choose who God is going to be gracious to and who he is going to be wrathful towards. And yet Jesus was announcing that God wants to be merciful to all peoples of all nations, even the sworn enemies of Israel. And this is where the hometown folks of Nazareth failed to resemble Jesus the most.

God will love whom He will love and we don’t get to advise Him on this issue. But the good people of Nazareth thought they might. They had an idea of who God should show mercy towards and who He shouldn’t. And when Jesus planed against that grain, he was rejected as a legitimate prophet; labeled a handyman-washout and rabbi want-to-be, and finally rejected in his own home town.

There is a level of contempt in this exchange that is palpable. In fact, it amazed Jesus. I could only find two places in the New Testament where we are told that Jesus is amazed. One is when a Gentile exercised a staggering amount of faith in Jesus, and here where his hometown treated Him with such scorn.

It seems He wanted to do “deeds of power” but could only cure a few sick folk so he moved on. Apparently, Jesus only lingers where He is welcome. If you lean forward and listen carefully you can hear contempt in the voice of the village elders as they make observations about Jesus when he finished his sermon.

“Is not this the carpenter, the son of Mary?”

Notice three things about this not-so-innocent question: One, it was not a question. Two, the phrase “son of Mary” means they are questioning his parentage. This was a first century euphemism for ‘bastard.’ In that society you always named the son by naming the father, not the mother. Three, by calling Jesus “the carpenter” they were calling him the equivalent of a handy man, a jack-of-all-trades.

Need your door fixed? Need your gate re-hung? Need your sink unplugged? Call Jesus. He was the ultimate “Hubbies Helper.”

I imagine the tone of voice to be one of derision and contempt. Contempt is an ugly word. Maybe it’s those hard consonants that thump when you say the word. More likely its baggage comes from usage in our common tongue.

You’ve heard the phrase “familiarity breeds contempt?” Ever wonder where that came from? The maxim dates back to the second century B.C. Aesop wrote a fable to illustrate it. A fox had never before seen a lion and when he first met the king of the beasts, the fox was nearly frightened to death. At their second meeting, the fox was not frightened as much and the third time he met the lion, the fox went up and started talking with him. And the moral of the story? Familiarity makes even the most frightening things seem quite harmless.

My problem is that I’ve known Jesus longer than the folks in Nazareth. They knew him for thirty years, but I have known him for fifty. I’ve studied him, talked to him, argued with him and explained him to anyone who would listen and more than a few who wouldn’t.

I wonder if Jesus, the Lion of Judah, has become harmless to me.

Along with this sense of familiarity, I wonder if Jesus actually feels welcomed in my life. Does he sense contempt behind my patronizing prayers and woodened worship? Two quick scenes just flashed in my mind from Scripture that are hauntingly convicting.

One is a post resurrection sighting of Jesus towards the end of Luke where Jesus is walking along the road with two discouraged disciples.

“As they came near the village to which they were going, he walked ahead as if he were going on. 29 But they urged him strongly, saying, “Stay with us, because it is almost evening and the day is now nearly over.” So he went in to stay with them. 30 When he was at the table with them, he took bread, blessed and broke it, and gave it to them. 31 Then their eyes were opened, and they recognized him…” Luke 24:28-31a

They wanted this stranger, who sounded strangely familiar, to share a meal with them. No contempt here.

The other scene is in the last book of the Bible where John the Revelator records Jesus words to a Church called Laodicea and confronts them about their apathy. Jesus admonishes them to be either hot or cold but not lukewarm. And what is the remedy to this apathetic attitude towards Jesus?

Listen! I am standing at the door, knocking; if you hear my voice and open the door, I will come in to you and eat with you, and you with me. Revelation 3:20

It seems that the solution to apathy, discouragement and even the lack of faith is more quiet intimacy with him.

Sometimes my wife and I can sit for long stretches of time in wordless intimacy. We have gained this over three decades of loving, serving and living together. We enjoy each other’s company. We don’t have to do anything fun to have a lovely day. Walks around the block, sitting in the sun on the deck watching the Puget Sound, and driving around town running errands are all wonderful experiences of love. You just can’t rush love. It comes in the faithful daily-ness of a life lived for the well-being of another.

What frightens my wife and encourages me is the truism that the longer a couple lives and loves together the more they will resemble one another physically and in character. Something the village elders of Jesus’ hometown never took the time to learn.

Take time to be holy, the world rushes on;

Spend much time in secret, with Jesus alone.

By looking to Jesus, like Him thou shalt be;

Thy friends in thy conduct His likeness shall see.

I have learned that intimacy transcends familiarity. And while Jesus is far from safe, he is, as C.S. Lewis has said, “good.” And the daily-ness of that goodness in my life, over time, will bring about a holy resemblance.

At least that is my wife’s prayer.

 

 

 

 

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People, Get Ready.

Posted on May 7, 2014 by Joe Chambers

Then Jesus was led up by the Spirit into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. Matthew 4:1

The best way to battle temptation is to give into it.~ Oscar Wilde

I received a phone call from a person that was distraught. I listened and empathized with them in their sorrow. About that time a show came on the television that was somewhat racy. Not horrible, but certainly not appropriate. I had muted the sound so that I could listen to the quivering voice on the line. I began to pray for the person, all the while the fleshly images were being flashed on the screen in front of me. I closed my eyes to talk to God on behalf of a hurting friend but kept opening one eye to see the flashing images.

It is extremely difficult to pray to God and ogle images on television. I had to either hurry the prayer or turn off the T.V.

So I prayed, “DearLordJesushelpMrs.SoandSoblah,blah,blah.InJesusname,Amen.”

Jesus had a clear vision of who he was. He was God’s beloved son and the Voice spoken at his baptism was still ringing in his ear all the way out into the wilderness. He knew who He was and Whose He was.

It is not enough to have a plan about what you are not going to do in life. You must develop a vision for who you are and what you are going to become. To be fully human is not just the absence of evil, it is the relentless pursuit of good. And that is what Jesus did in the wilderness when he did battle with the devil. All of the years of reading Torah, internalizing the Scriptures and praying the Psalms came to bear on those dry and dusty 40 days out east of Zion.

It is not enough to get married and not have plans to be unfaithful, you must make plans to be faithful. It’s not enough to have plans to not become addicted to alcohol, you have to have a vision, intention and a method to be moving towards God. No one plans to be unfaithful to God. No one I have ever met has signed on to be a Christian and secretly made plans to bow their knee to the devil at the same time.

Dallas Willard has said, “We must arrange our lives so that sin no longer looks good to us.” I need to build into my life behaviors, friends, and habits that make loving Jesus more attractive than loving my own desires.

Jesus said to him, “Away with you, Satan! for it is written,

‘Worship the Lord your God,

and serve only him.’”

Then the devil left him… Matthew 4:10-11a

What I worship really matters. One night at a weight loss clinic the instructor held up an apple and then a candy bar.

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“What is the nutritional value of this apple,” she asked, “and how would it relate to your diet?”

“Low in calories”, “natural” and “lots of fiber” were among the answers.

She then went on to explain what was wrong with eating candy, and concluded with, “Apples are not only more healthful but also less expensive. You can buy this apple for about thirty cents. Do you know I paid eighty-five cents for this candy bar?”

Everyone just stared at the forbidden treat, and from the back of the room someone blurted out:

“I’ll give you two dollars for it.”

What I ascribe worth to really matters. I love how author Tim Keller puts it when he says, “The things you daydream about in your spare time are ultimately the things you serve.” It doesn’t require vision and inner strength to choose the apple over the Snickers at a weight loss clinic. It gets a lot harder at 10:00 at night and your spouse has already gone to bed and will never know anyway. The immediate gratification of the candy bar versus the fiber-rich benefits of the apple are at odds and the candy bar usually wins. Unless I have matured to the point where I can live with delayed gratification long enough to remember the vision of a healthy and dynamic body that gives presence to the soul that lives inside—I will have peanut breath when I go to bed.

It’s easy to make the right choice in squishy moments at 11:00 on Sunday mornings at the sin-loss clinic called Church. It’s a lot harder to make soul-enhancing choices in the wilderness of Monday through Saturday.

Jesus didn’t start his preparation during His temptation. He envisioned the kind of God-fearing pilgrim He would be long before he was taken into the wilderness. Since before He was twelve He had built into His lifestyle soul-shaping exercises for all of his life. Things like scripture mediation and memorization. Things like prayer and worship. Things like service and solitude. He learned obedience from the things he suffered, scripture says. He learned to be comfortable with obscurity. In fact, we could say that all of his life had prepared him for this battle in with wilderness and all the battles that dogged his steps to the cross.

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We must be prepared for the battle before the battle begins.

So, turn the T.V. off. Spend time reading, praying, and listening.

The phone could ring at any moment.

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