The King has Arrived

We celebrate royalty. We celebrate it in many forms. There's the Royal Family, who are popular even among those not citizens of their country. And although they might not have the official title of king or queen, there's also pop royalty (actors, singers, etc.). However, many royal titles ascribed today and just that: titles. The title has no immediate impact on my life. I can read about them from afar, watch them on TV, even enjoy them immensely, while also moving on at any point I choose. This is a very superficial royalty.

If a member of our pop royal classes somehow loses their king- or queen-ship my and your life goes on much the same as it has. No real, lasting impact. If it's 3am, and my world is collapsing in on itself, chances are I can't call [royal person] and ask for help. If I was altogether lost, then I would probably need to look elsewhere. 

Jesus is said to serve as king, but his kingship functions much differently. If Jesus is our king, then we have a changed loyalty and our lives are directly affected by his reign.

If Jesus is our king, then our loyalty is to him in such a way that he directs our lives. No longer to be driven by whatever impulse comes over us, we are to move in the same direction that Jesus moves. And this is not out of a sense of fear, as if we were following a tyrant. It's out of love. "If you love me, you will keep my commandments." (John 14:15) We are to do the things he, our king, says because we love him. We love him, and others, because he first loved us. (1 John 4:19)

Also, our lives are directly affected by his reign. If you are a member of a kingdom, and for some reason lose your king, then you are, in a way, lost. As a citizen of that kingdom, there is no longer anyone to give your citizenship direction or meaning. You then are at the mercy of whoever is the next king. Jesus, as our king, rules over all powers and authorities. Everything is subject to him (Ephesians 1:22, 23). Even if the world as we know it passes away Jesus will still rule as king.

We wait on many things during this time of year. One thing we no longer need to wait on is for our king to arrive. We have someone faithful and true to whom we can be loyal. We can trust that, now that he has arrived, his reign will never be shaken. With Jesus as our king we can never be lost again.

He Came Down: An Advent Message

What follows is (roughly) the text from a sermon I preached this past Sunday, the first Sunday of Advent.

Presence makes a huge difference. When my wife and I got married, for many obvious reasons, it was important that I was present. Skype would not have worked that day. When it comes to our loved ones we would much rather see them face to face, rather than talk over the phone. Presence is personal and powerful. We are moving into the time of year when Christians around the world are anticipating and celebrating God's presence coming down to dwell with us. He came down, in the person of Jesus, to give us his presence.

We can even see the power of God's presence coming down in the life of Moses. Let's look at one of, if not the, most pivotal moment in Moses' life. God's presence set the tone for Moses' life. He came down, and Moses was never the same. 

Exodus 3 gives the account of Moses coming to the wilderness and encountering God. Many people will remember the famous burning bush scene. In the first verse we find that Moses travels to the "west side of the wilderness." (NASB) The word for "west" could many several things, such as "far", "behind", or "after". Moses is out there. When you get to the wilderness you know you have gone a great distance. Moses is in "can't get there from here" territory. Such a contrast from one who was raised by pharaoh's daughter (see Exodus 2). Maybe you feel you are on the far side of life. Sometimes God strips us of distractions and brings us to the wilderness to meet with us. We can't know if Moses thought he was going out there to meet with God, but we know what ended up happening.

In verses 2 and 3 we come to the burning bush. Moses sees that the bush is burning, and that it is not consumed by the fire, and then decides that this is too amazing to pass by. The miracle wasn't that there was fire, or that there was a bush that was on fire. Moses had undoubtedly seen these things before. The miracle was in the bush not being consumed. This was something altogether different, as evidenced by Moses' reaction: "I must turn aside now and see this marvelous sight." He wouldn't have turned aside for anything ordinary. I think there are some important principles for us to take away from this. 1. Do we have eyes to see the marvelous things of God? When I journal and ask God for help, so often I don't see how God took care of me later. I didn't have eyes to see how he came through. 2. If we encounter the marvelous things of God, do we then turn aside/change our direction, or do we continue in the way we are going? To come to an experience with God is to reach a crossroads. And reaching the crossroads necessitates a choice: do we turn towards what God is doing, or do we turn our own way? It's a good question to ask when we read the Bible. What am I going to do about it? 3. When outsiders hear of the things going on within our church are they compelled to turn aside and come see what is going on? We can't expect people to turn aside for something ordinary. Ask yourself, would you turn aside if you knew you were coming to an ordinary experience?

Now we come to verse 4. I don't believe in coincidences. One area that I especially don't believe in coincidences is language. The language of Moses' response indicates his readiness to listen. This wasn't, "Yeah, I'm here, whatever." This was, "Yes, I hear you and I am ready and waiting for what you have to say." It seems as if Moses knew something important was going on here.

In verses 5 and 6 Moses is taught something of God's holiness. The place on which Moses was standing wasn't holy because there was a burning bush. It wasn't holy because of something it possessed in and of itself. The place was holy because of God himself. The physical building of a church is special because we recognize that when we gather together for worship as one, unified body of believers, that God's presence is there. It's not in bricks and mortar. If our church was built with the finest of materials, but the builders decided that it should remain empty, only something to look at, then it would seem silly wouldn't it? Notice, also, that Moses is only able to approach God on God's own terms. His holiness is such that he gets to determine the nature of our relationship. Now, on the one hand, this seems unfair. It sounds too controlling, and restrictive, doesn't it? Certainly, we would have a hard time believing in and following a God who left the relationship there. I know I would. But God doesn't leave us in this situation (Hebrews 4:16).

Next, God begins to give Moses a clearer picture of who he is. It's unclear how much Moses knew about God or what their relationship was up to this point, but it would appear that Moses needed God to clarify who was speaking to him. God says, "I am the God of your father, the God of Abraham, the God of Isaac and the God of Jacob." Now, Moses was descended from Jacob. What God is telling Moses is that the same God whom his descendants followed is the same God who is speaking now. This adds legitimacy to what God is going to tell Moses. This isn't going to be a different revelation than what his family has known, but a fuller one. This apparently carried some weight with Moses, because look at how he reacts next: "Then Moses hid his face, because he was afraid to look at God." Again, it would seem that Moses knew he was before God on God's on terms. If you would like to take a quick test of where you are spiritually, ask yourself how you approach God. Do you approach him casually, as if you're the one in control and God is waiting for your command? Do you approach him out of pride, acting as though you deserve to stand before God and you deserve to have your requests heard and met, and you're doing God a favor by speaking to him? Or, do you approach God with an attitude of humility? "God, thank you. Thank you for meeting with me and being present with me. Thank you for who you are. Thank you for making a way for me to approach you." How do you approach God?

Now, let's pause, in case anyone has wanted to say, "Look, Caleb, Thanksgiving was last week. We even went Black Friday shopping. We are already in December. Caleb, where is Christmas? What do Exodus, Moses, and a burning bush have to do with Christmas?" I think the answer to that is in the next few verses.

God tells Moses, "I have surely seen the affliction of my people..." God is telling Moses that the plight of his people is not hidden from him. And, what's more, although the peole were oppressedin Egypt, they ultimately didn't belong to the Egyptians. Think of some struggle that you've had. Wasn't there a time when it felt as if your struggle owned you; when it felt as if your struggle was dogging you, driving you into the ground? This is part of the nature of sin. Often it's our own sins, but it could be the sin of others. Wherever the struggle comes from the truth is the same: what's oppressing you only has as much ownership of you as you're willing to give it. You say, "But Caleb, how can this be? You don't know about the struggles I've had." And right you are. I don't know. But catch this: 400 years of slavery and oppression - consider how many people were born during that time who only knew slavery and oppression - was not enough to wrestle ownership of the Israelites away from God. "My people" he calls them. If you're weighed down by sin and circumstances, take heart in those two little words: my people. God is aware of what you're going through. He has done something about it in the past, he is doing something about it now, and he will still do something more about it in the future. This is the climax that we've been building to. He hears the cries of his people, and he does the most amazing thing: he came down.

In verse 8, God says, "So I have come down..." The God of the universe. The one true God. The holy and perfect God. God in all his power, majesty, and glory. He hears his people. He looks down from heaven and sees what is going on. With the flick of a finger, or let's be real, with the faintest of whispers, he could have blown the Egyptians right off the map and handed their kingdom over to his people. But that wasn't enough for God. Listen to what he says: "So I have come down." Such a very personal thing to say. He's saying, "I'm going to come down and take care of this myself." He knew how his people were being oppressed and driven into the ground and he came down to put an end to it himself. The very presence of God in the midst of their struggle. God heard his people and came down. And isn't that, in a way, what we are now beginning to celebrate during this time of year? God himself came down to dwell among us. Matthew 1:23 (referencing Isaiah 7:14). Immanuel. Not "God in some far of place." Not "God keeping his distance." God with us. John 1:14. Jesus gave up heaven to live among us. The next time you look around and think, "What an awful world we live in" remember: Jesus gave up heaven for this. And why? This is what really makes it good. Much more than coming down to deliver us from some earthly power or rule, Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil (1 John 3:8). That's why he came down. Ultimately, that's why we celebrate Christmas. We celebrate that God himself came down, as Jesus, to put an end to, to destroy, sin and death: the ultimate oppressors.

Now, I know that won't sell many Hallmark cards: "Jesus came to destroy the works of the devil. Merry Christmas!" But folks, isn't that what we need? We desperately need him to come down and change us from the inside out. If he doesn't, we'll destroy each other and then when no one is left, we'll destroy ourselves. We don't need more finger pointing, or gloating, or pride, or selfishness, or hate. We need him to come down and put an end to sin, which is driving us into the ground.

To be sure, it is good and healthy to remember and recognize that Jesus was once a baby. But I really believe that truly anticipating Christmas and celebrating it means remembering why he became a baby in the first place. He came down to Moses, and Moses was never the same. And as for me, I am an example and a testimony that he came down, and saved a sinner. I'll never be the same. He came down, and we'll never be the same. 

On Ferguson and Injustice

May the God of peace have mercy on us. 

Last night was a somewhat normal night in the Bittler household. Dinner, Netflix, doing dishes, giving our boy a bath, then to bed. We don't have cable and as our night played out I just didn't get on social media. 

Fast forward to about 5:30am. I get up to change our boy's diaper, then hand him off to my wife to be fed. I climb back into bed, expecting to go back to sleep, but first I hop on Twitter. It doesn't take long to figure out that I got locked into my own little world and I forgot about Ferguson. 

Ferguson. I type the word and stare at the screen for a little while. No matter what side you're on (and I think there are more than two) there's no denying that Ferguson shows us that all is not well. Something is terribly wrong with how we view and live in the world. There's crime, yes. But there is also racism (in many forms), stereotyping, indifference, pride, and, in general, injustice. And no one group is to blame. 

I carry some of the blame, though. You ask how? I forgot about Ferguson. As I said before, I was locked into my own world last night and forgot about what was going on. Maybe that's one of the greatest injustices: we can catch a clip on the news, spout off a rant or two on Twitter, and then flip the switch and move on. Forget all about it. Go back to enjoying my wife and boy. 

My boy. What will he learn from situations like this? Sure, we're a long way from that, but I have to wonder. I'm privileged in that it is unlikely he will grow up fearing the police. But who will he grow up fearing? Our neighbors? His classmates? His teachers? Who will he build stereotypes against? I have to wonder. 

I'm not sure how to feel about Ferguson. For many reasons, I'm far removed from that place. However, I think one of the greatest injustices I could do is to stick my head in the sand and act indifferent. For my part, I want to teach our boy to do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God to the very best of his ability. I want injustice, in any form, to matter to him. 

May Christ return soon to right all these wrongs. 

A "Slow Church" for Fast Times

What follows is a review of Slow Church by C. Christopher Smith and John Pattison.

Why? Slow Church resonated with me. I feel the pressure of trying to live a fast paced life. I feel the pressure to try to keep up with the world and its quest for speed and efficiency. I feel the pressure as the desire for speed and efficiency keeps claiming more ground in the local church. So, hopefully, this will be a helpful tool for you to gauge whether or not Slow Church will resonate with you.

What was refreshing to me about Slow Church was the sense of patience that kept coming through. Slow Church's call is not a call to become the church quickly. It is a call to be patient enough to enter into conversation and presence with others. I doubt that if you adopt the conversations and practices from Slow Church change will come quickly. We're talking about changing a culture, and that takes time. A lot of time. 

I could go through the book, chapter by chapter, and pick out all the great things I gleaned, but instead I'm going to offer just a few highlights.

You can read in the introduction that Slow Church takes a cue from the Slow Food Movement begun the 1980s. This movement pushed back against the idea of fast food, and advocated slow food as a way to preserve culture, patience, and being present with others.  (See also http://www.slowfood.com/) There is also push back against McDonaldization. Smith and Pattison credit sociologist George Ritzer with this term, which means "the process by which the principles of the fast-food restaurant are coming to dominate more and more sectors of American society as well as the rest of the world." (see the introduction, p. 13) It is sobering to consider that maybe McDonaldization is a force that has begun to influence the church. What do you think? Do you see an unhealthy desire for speed and efficiency in our churches? Do you see an unhealthy desire for our churches and people to all look and act the same?

The book is divided into three courses:  ethics, ecology, and economy. Smith and Pattison describe these as "meals" which are meant to be taken in together; they are each related. This also gives you a great way to take little pieces (or bites?) of the book and savor them as you discuss them with others.

Ethics includes chapters on terroir (referring to place), stability, and patience.  The last chapter in this section is one of my favorites: patience. I think this was my favorite of this section for two reasons: first, I'm a very restless person. I can get very anxious and have a hard time being in the moment. This leads to the second reason: this chapter challenged me to be present in the moment and with others. We live in a world that doesn't want us to be present. We must always be on the move. What a refreshing call to slow down and be present in the moment; to see God as working in all the moments that we might think of as mundane. Patience also helps us to suffer with others. Our world would convince that suffering should be avoided at all costs. But, patience would teach us that suffering with others, being present with them in it, is following in the way of Christ.

 Now the second course of ecology: wholeness, work, and sabbath. Sabbath was the favorite of this section. Sabbath is such a vital practice in our lives, yet it is one of the most over looked practices. The world would teach us that we can't observe sabbath. There's not time for that. Practicing Slow Church means that we will believe that there is time for sabbath and God is enough for us. We should push back against the belief that we are unable to, or shouldn't, enter into God's rhythm of rest.

The third course is economy and includes chapters on abundance, gratitude, and hospitality. God abundantly provides for us; for our individual needs and for collective needs. He gives us all we need in order to go out into the world on mission. Slow Church calls us to push back against the myth of scarcity and trust that God has provided, is providing, and will provide. That leads to gratitude. A slow church is a thankful church. Let's be thankful for what God gives (resources, people, etc.). Let's show the world that we are a thankful people. And then hospitality. Our belief in abundance and our gratitude should spill over into our churches being hospitable places. Slow Church causes me to ask, "How am I seeking ways to be hospitable to others, both in my own life and within the life of my church?"

The book ends with a call to practice being in conversation with others: those inside our churches and those outside. So much of what we do as a church relies on our ability to have conversations with others. I'm challenged to create more spaces in my life for just that. Not as a tool, but as a way to simply be present with others.

Does any of this resonate with you? Do you feel the pressure to adopt the world's desire for speed and efficiency? Read Slow Church and enter into the conversation.

Shortest Blog Post Ever (maybe)

Together for the Gospel has been a great conference and I have been challenged and encouraged by some wonderful teachers. I must confess, however, that it is difficult to fight off envy. These men are so spirit filled and intelligent. It is hard not to wish for what they have; hard not to wish for something clever to say. 

Which brings me to this morning's conviction: am I reading your word for you, or so I can have something clever to say. 

Ouch. I confess it. Sometimes that is how I approach the word. Our challenge is to listen for what God is telling us for his sake; for his glory. Not so we can be found clever or build a platform for our book. That is all I think I should attempt to say this morning, and get back God, and only God. 

Am I Iron?

I'm on a church bus rolling down the old goat paths, er, interstates of Kentucky on my way to the Together for The Gospel (T4G) conference in Louisville, KY. I've never attended this before, but am looking forward to some solid teaching from some well known preachers I've followed for some time now. 

As I look around the bus and eaves drop on the multiple conversations Proverbs 27:17 runs through my head: Iron sharpens iron, and one man sharpens another. (ESV) Certainly not a profound, earth shattering thing to think about in this situation. We are mostly pastors from West Virginia and most of the conversation tends toward church life. 

However, what keeps coming up in my mind is this: am I iron? I look around this bus and I see a lot of heavy metal. Lots of ministry experience, but more than that a lot of life experience. This bus is full of men who have been there. A lot of these guys are on the frontier of following Christ, right on the front lines. They are most certainly iron. 

But am I? Are you? If someone rubbed up against me would they be sharpened? It's so easy to roll through life just trying to make it. Sometimes I think that's right where the Devil wants us, in that place where we are merely surviving.

If I am only looking to my own concerns, only desiring to make it, then I am not iron. I've softened myself. I can't sharpen someone and have much less of a chance of being sharpened myself. 

I think being iron takes work. It takes vulnerability. It takes seeking the good of others first. "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.

Let each of you look not only to his own interests, but also to the interests of others." Philippians 2:3, 4. 

Great opportunities are put in front of us to be iron, to sharpen and be sharpened. Let's have eyes and ears and heart for them. 

The "Hellish Devil's Drink" We Call Coffee

Must credit David Fitch ( @fitchest ) for posting this gem by Jeremy Postal to Twitter.

Today's bizarre bit of history: if I were to ask you what drink the church had at one time labeled a "hellish Devil's drink" you would most likely guess some form of alcohol, right? Well, oddly enough, coffee owned this distinction for a time.

What?! You mean my morning elixir isn't the saintly drink I thought it was? Well, at least not, at one time, in the church's view. Perhaps even more odd was that apparently the church questioned why good Christians should abandon their ales for coffee...now there's something that won't preach today! :)

Also worth noting, according to Postal, as coffee gained popularity in Europe, it wasn't so much the coffee that people were after, as much as it was community. People were attracted to the common ground created by the new coffee houses. They were places for free thinking and gathering. Free thinking and gathering that sometimes ran counter to the dominant culture. Try viewing your local Starbuck's through this lens. Could you see the people lounging there as free thinking rebels on the verge of starting an uprising? That was sometimes how the church viewed these new coffee drinkers.

The next gem I find in this video is this quote attributed to Pope Clement VIII after tasting coffee for the first time: "This Satan's drink is so delicious that it would be a pity to let the infidels have exclusive use of it. We shall cheat Satan by baptizing it." When was the last time you thought you were cheating Satan by enjoying that morning cup of coffee? Me neither.

And this leads Postal to ask some questions (I love this): "What happened to the free thinkers? What happened to the subversive, counter-cultural ideas? What happened to the kind of people who made the people with the power uneasy?" If coffee was at one time a drink for "rebel rousers" then what happened? Folks, what if we viewed the spaces around our coffee pots at church as places where ideas could meet and flourish? What if we viewed those places as spaces where there was opportunity for new frontiers to be explored?

Am I advocating change for the sake of change? Not even a little. But what ideas have you buried deep because you couldn't find a safe place to share them? What questions have you not asked because you could not find the right setting or atmosphere? What if you found that place around a coffee pot at your church? Let's build these spaces! Let's build some space for the free flow of ideas and discussion. Let's set each other loose to explore the rugged frontier that is a life lived to God. Let's stop expecting everyone to come and sit quietly, without saying a word.

The last little nugget that I found in this video, a quote: "Our coffee is safe and our churches are safe. That's why revolutions won't happen. We need a disruption." Again, I don't believe in change just for the sake of change. But, let's ask ourselves this: in our own context of following God, if there is a disruption needed, do we currently have spaces where it could be explored and discussed?

There's a coffee pot that sits on my desk in my office. If you've got a minute and would like to share some ideas, drop in and I'll pour you a cup. Let's be "rebel rousers" together!

I'm Not the Captain of My Own Ship...or Your Ship Either

I do like to be in charge. And the thought of striking out on some adventure, serving as the leader, choosing the direction, does sound exciting to me. It seems freeing to think of my life as a ship, with me as the captain, battling the elements, charting the course, and everything riding on my shoulders. I decide the outcome. The adventure continues on my terms. My identity is largely the outcome of my own actions. If I want to be good, then I am good. If I want to be a rebel without a cause, rage against the system, then it is my choice. My identity is a moving target.

It is sometimes equally tempting to see myself as the captain of another person's ship as well. I want other people to behave, believe, feel, understand, etc. on my terms. I want other people to live up to the stereotypes I have for them. If I think someone is a dirty, rotten, scoundrel, then I want them to stay that way. It is too difficult to try to recreate a new stereotype. So stay the way I think that you are, please, and thank you. This is your captain speaking: your identity is, unfortunately, not a moving target.

Neither of these thought processes are true. And I'm glad. I'm glad that it is all not on my shoulders. I still remember the pressure of finding my identity in middle school and high school. I'll admit, whatever I thought the popular stream was, that's where I wanted to find myself. This affected how I walked, talked, and what I wore. I wanted (what I thought was) freedom to change my identity according to what would most benefit me socially. And, of course, I'm not the final word on any other person's thoughts or decisions. It may seem comforting on the surface to think I know all the ins and outs of the people around me and they will always think and do the way I think they should. This, though, only leads to frustration, because I'm no more in control of another life than I am of my own.

There is a captain. Believing that God has laid a claim on my life, I see my identity (thankfully) as something I don't choose for myself. It is given to me. The fate of others, their thoughts, and attitudes, are not determined by me, either. Spending time thinking on the idea of being "bought with a price" (see 1 Corinthians 6-7) helps me see that I'm not out on the sea of life, alone, calling my own shots. I'm tempted to think that way. Tempted to do things my own way and do what I want. But control of the rudder isn't mine and that is a good thing.

I think so much unrest in life would be lessened if we would think more on the idea that it is not all about doing what I want. There is really more freedom is letting Lord show us the way.

A Brief Blackout and the Glories of Bluefield

It came without warning last night. And it couldn't have come at a worst time (unless you are a Denver Broncos fan). With just a few short minutes left in last night's Super Bowl the light's in Bluefield College's Student Activities Center went out. Nothing left but emergency lights. People file outside to see what the rest of campus is like, and most of campus is dark as well. In fact, much of Bluefield, WV was dark. A few thousand were without power, and thus began the brief run of Blackout '14.

A blackout can be a serious situation for many people, but I have to admit, I enjoyed reminiscing about past power outages with my parents and brother, playing games by candlelight. And there was something almost peaceful about heading back home through a mostly dark town.

As mentioned above, though, Blackout '14 was brief. Whatever the equipment failure, it was soon corrected and thousands of Mercer Co. residents were brought back to the light.

It's easy to gloss over things like this and move on to whatever is next in our lives. The blackout is over. Lights are on. What's next? Please, pardon me for being a little idealistic, but let's look at this as opportunity to feel good about where we live.

1) We have electricity to lose in the first place. Not much needs to be said about this. So many in the world are without reliable electricity. It really is a blessing I take for granted.

2) My experience during the short time I've lived here has been, all things considered, things like power outages and snow covered roads are taken care of rather quickly. Imagine if a power outage, for any reason, automatically meant days of lost power for thousands of people? Imagine if just a couple inches of snow meant that roads wouldn't be clear until the snow finally melted?

I can sometimes be an optimist to a fault, but let's remember to feel good about our town. Let's remember to feel good about what our community offers us. Grateful people will eventually lead to great cities.

Have You Been Spiritually Knocked Down a Notch?

Have you ever sat by the bedside of a very sick person? I mean very sick. So sick you're not even sure they know you are there. I think there are few other experiences that can make you feel as helpless and inadequate. Imagine, walking into a hospital room, to do your good deed, your pastoral duty, intent on providing inspiration and encouragement, because, after all, it is what you have been trained to do. You know what to say and what not to say. You've learned about where to stand and sit and the right posture to have. However, upon entering the room you are made immediately aware of the fact that, contrary to your inflated view of yourself, there is very little for you to offer. You realize that your words fail you and that your human skills are not enough.

It was a wake up call for me. A reminder to always be humble. A reminder that I have no real power or skill on my own. If I want to offer someone any real encouragement, especially someone who is very sick, I should always defer to someone else. Sometimes it is easy for me to forget this. I'll sometimes rest a little too much in the knowledge and skills I think I have and get a little complacent. It's hard sometimes not to rely too much on myself.

It's painful, but sometimes I really do need to be spiritually knocked down a notch.

And here is something amazing. Jesus chose to be knocked down a notch. Jesus had unimaginable glory with God from eternity past.  Jesus had power as well, because John tells us in his gospel that nothing was created without Jesus. And yet he chose to give it all up. Paul said in the often quoted Philippians 2 passage that Jesus "emptied himself, taking the form of a bond-servant, and being made in the likeness of men." (Philippians 2:7 NASB)

If I am to truly serve someone else, and if I am to truly model my life after Jesus, then the proper action for me to take is to empty myself of me. This may seem counter-productive to a Western/American way of thinking. We want to strong, self-made, self-sufficient, and to be the hero. But, in order to offer someone the very best of what I can give I need to teach myself that I am not the hero. Jesus is the hero. I am just a channel through which he comes.

There is actually a lot of freedom in this. Jesus, in all his power and glory, comes to hurting people through me. There is comfort in this, for the person we try to help, and for us as well. To sit in a chair, praying quietly next to someone isn't a defeat. It is being a channel through which victory comes. Victory in the name of Jesus Christ.

A Theology of Scarcity?

I recently listened to an interesting article on NPR (I'll pause, and give you time to chuckle at that. I don't mind.). Two researchers looked at the idea of how scarcity can affect our thinking and decision making. Here's a link to the article: "How Scarcity Trap Affects Our Thinking, Behavior"

Basically, they looked at two kinds of scarcity: financial scarcity and time scarcity. The researchers contend that those suffering from the latter have a similar line of thinking and make similar decisions as those of the former. Business professionals operating under a constant time crunch, under a constant feeling of never having enough time, often make decisions that lead to them having even less time, much in the same way people who are in debt make poor financial decisions that lead to still more debt.

I found this fascinating because I think this could influence how I might serve people as a pastor in Southwest Virginia and South East West Virginia. I see this area as being more diverse than what some people may think. You can drive through a seemingly upper middle class neighborhood and without realizing it transition into what looks like a forgotten ghost town, except that for so many it's not "forgotten" but "home." And yet, although there seems to be such a difference, such a gap between the have's and have not's, maybe there are more similarities than we think.

What if that feeling of not having enough is a major factor in the lives of both groups? What does that say for how we approach them with the gospel? What if a major factor in the lives of many people around here, whether they are short on cash or time, is the same factor: I need more.

More. Professionals, who may be in a better spot financially, may still be racked by a sense of always lacking. Lacking the time they believe they desperately need. And someone living in an impoverished state may actually share many of the same feelings, just with a different object as the felt need.

I think this can aid those who wish to share the gospel. Remember that everyone around you may be suffering from scarcity of some form or another. And, scarcity may be influencing them to make some poor decisions that may trap them in a vicious cycle. Jesus says, "Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden [or how about "all you who are suffering from scarcity"?], and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28)

The gospel is for rich and poor alike. I miss the mark if I think one group needs it more than another. All people need Jesus. The good news is he is more than enough. Our message is that faith in Jesus can pull you out of the belief that you'll never have enough. I believe that Jesus can make the feeling of scarcity a distant memory.

Do you see this feeling of scarcity (financial or that of time) in people around you? Do you think the idea of scarcity could create connection point between too seemingly different groups (those in poverty/debt and those who feel trapped by a lack of time)?

Tis (Still) the Season

I learned something fascinating the other day, which you probably already knew about. All my life I have assumed that the Twelve Days of Christmas all led up to Christmas day. My wife taught me that this is not the case, and that the twelve days actually start on Christmas day and end January 5th. As I said, you probably already knew this, but my wife taught me something very valuable: Christmas isn't over.

Traditionally, the celebrations after Christmas culminated in the festival of Epiphany on January 6th; "epiphany" meaning manifestation or appearance (Holman Illustrated Bible Dictionary). The festival celebrated Christ appearing to the Gentiles (i.e. the Magi).

So what does this mean for us? It could simply mean a few extra days of Christmas trees, decorations, and radio stations playing Christmas music non-stop. Or, deeper than that, and rather than packing everything up on December 26th and forgetting all about Christmas, maybe there is an opportunity to be witnesses to another layer of meaning for this season.

It is interesting that the Magi have a prominent role in the Nativity. I'm not the first to discover this, but you could consider the Magi as an unlikely group of characters to appear on the scene. They presumably came from far away to see firsthand the child who had been born. They apparently were aware of the birth of the child as a result of their study of the stars. Also, maybe most striking, they were most likely not already part of God's chosen people (i.e. not Jewish). They weren't the religious elite from around where Christ was born. They were most likely wealthy, but having the stamp of approval from some Eastern kings probably wouldn't carry much weight with the Jewish people. Their place in the story is altogether unlikely.

And that's me. My place in God's story, based on a worldly standard, is altogether unlikely. I don't measure up. I miss the mark. Compared to God, I have nothing to brag about. No platform from which I can boast. I'm not part of any elite group. But, God came to me anyway. He made me part of his story.

So, rather than be in a mad rush to put all our Christmas decorations away, I want to take some time to remember what my wife taught me: Christmas isn't over. As unlikely as it was to reach out to me and show me grace, that's exactly what God did. And that's reason to celebrate.

What Does Presence Do?

I said I wouldn't do it. "Caleb, don't give in. Don't feed into the social media nonsense." I told myself. "Don't let politics and controversy seep into your blog. This is a happy place. Your blog is the puppies/Christmas/candy/rainbows/unicorns section of the internet." Well, I'm doing it. No turning back now.

Social media has been exciting to follow the past few days. Some posts have been like watching train wrecks. You want to turn away, but you just have to ride it out and see where it goes. Some posts have been so clever and witty that I can reread them and still have a good chuckle. Some posts have been laced with love. Others have been laced with that razor wire stuff that they put on the top of prison fences. All in all, it's been a good ride. Good job, internet.

What all this has got me thinking about is this: how should we really engage one another? What should I do if I'm for Phil, against Phil, tame Miley, Kanye for President, don't take my guns, melt all the guns down and use them to make Prius', or whatever? Do I wage social media war? Do I charge up Facebook Hill, ready to face death/getting blocked, as I fight the backwoods rednecks or the hipsters (depending on my stereotyped target)? Or, do I simply do nothing. Live and let live, as it were. As long as no one is physically hurting me, it's all good. Tolerance above all else. It everyone's right to do everything they want. Not my problem. Say what  you want. Or can I be in between? Is there an in between?

To be sure, I have some firm beliefs of my own, though I try hard not to rant too much on the internet. I'd rather rant in person. Less of a chance that you'll just get up and walk away. Ha! But, I do enjoy talking with people about real stuff. I'm talking about things we believe deep down. But how can I do that with someone who deep down is against the things that I believe? How do I engage in a relationship with someone who, because of beliefs, is separated from me.

This is where it gets tricky. And this is where some may think me too soft, too exclusive, too simplistic, or too...a lot of things. I think I can learn a lot about how to engage people with different beliefs by looking at how God brings his presence to me.

Now, try to follow me on this for a little bit. My own experience of following God has gone like this: it didn't all happen overnight. Over many years God has given me little pieces (probably as much as I could handle) of what it means to follow him and I've progressively moved in that direction. Sometimes I've taken a few steps forward, then a few more back. But I'd like to think that the overall trajectory of my life has been towards him. The really fascinating part is that it's been all him. There's no meet in the middle or anything like that. God comes to me. I don't mean that I'm always passive or that God comes on his hands and knees begging that I follow him. I just mean that, in what I think is my own experience seen through the lens of my background, God brings his presence to me.

God has never done this because of how good I am. You see, I used to be a brat. And not only a brat, but I was mean. So mean. Don't believe the hype. I was living apart from God. Chasing my selfish desires. Driven by an effort to figure things out on my own. And then it begins to happen. I begin to hear God through people in my life and through reading the Bible. God was coming to me, reaching out to me, bringing his presence to me. Over time, I understood that God sent Jesus to be born, live as we do, die for our sins, and be raised back to life, which is something promised to those who believe as well.

God bridged the gap with presence. I couldn't do that. No way.

So, what point am I trying to make? How about this: if I really, truly want to engage with people who don't share my beliefs, why can't I start with being present with them? Why can't I get to know them and know why they believe what they do? Why can't I look at someone from across a table and say, "I hear you. I disagree, but I hear you. Now let me get you some more coffee." I don't have to yell and scream and get angry and argue the world over to my side all in one swoop. And I don't have to be silent either. Maybe this is the middle ground.

 There was a time when I did not believe in the things that God is about. But God changed that by being present with me. Why shouldn't I follow his example and engage people in the same way? And guess what - that works no matter what side you're on!

ps - last post until the new year rolls around. In the immortal words of Clark Griswald: "Merry Christmas to all and to all a good night!"

What a Sandwich Shop Taught Me About Advent

You just can't beat a Firehouse Subs shop. The atmosphere is inviting and the sandwiches are delicious. Great combination. If you've never ordered a sandwich from there, once you pick one of their meal options you have the option of ordering it "fully involved", which means everything on it. I think it is a fire fighting term (please correct me if I'm wrong) which refers to when a fire has consumed all compartments of a structure. It then becomes fully involved.

So what does a sandwich have to do with Advent? Fully involved. That's the connection. God himself, in the form of his son, came to be present among us. He took on a human body like ours. He felt what we feel. He experienced what we experience. Jesus Christ knows what it's like to be us. As a result of being born among us he became fully involved.

Fully involved with my life in a personal why. This is either liberating or terrifying. The God of the whole universe knows me. I'm on his list. He is aware of what's happening with me and has an effect on what goes on in my life. This can be terrifying if we don't want to be known. Maybe we'd rather stay back in the shadows of existence and keep moving in our own direction.

For the person who follows after Jesus Christ, this is not an option. If a house fire becomes fully involved then there is not much turning back at that point. Things move in the direction of the house being fully consumed. Every room of the house is engulfed. When once we choose to follow Christ we are to be fully involved. I am to let Christ in to every room, every compartment of my life. I am to let him change every attitude and behavior. We take on his life, his power, through the Holy Spirit. Paul speaks of this as putting on a new self. Kind of like taking old clothes off and putting new clothes on.

This is what I want Advent to be for me: remembering that Jesus Christ became fully involved in humanity so I could be fully involved in him. He gave me his full presence so I want to live in a like manner. I want to live in Christ like my Firehouse sandwich - fully involved.

The Hidden Treasure

I've found that after a little over two years of living in this area that I'm just beginning to scratch the surface of the character of this place. Take Bramwell, WV for example. Until recently, this was simply a nearby, but obscure place, which apparently thrived during the early coal boom in West Virginia. Bramwell is said to have the most millionaires per capita of any town in the country in the late 1800s (see http://www.bramwellwv.com/history.html) . I visited the town for a home tour this past weekend with my wife and mother-in-law. These houses were incredible. One house, for example, was made of nearly all imported materials and built almost  completely with imported labor. It's mind boggling to think about how much money these people had.

And yet, so many have no idea it's there now. It's easy to see how that happens. We get so caught up in what is on the surface. We look around town and focus on the run-down buildings and what we may think are lifeless streets. We focus on the stores which are out of business, or stores we wish would come to town. We choose to see the town as, if not dead, dying. And truly, an old coal town, removed from prominence, can be a depressing sight to behold. For me, Bramwell came close to remaining another sad sight.  If no one had told me about Bramwell and its claim to fame, then I never would have known. Bramwell could very easily have remained obscure, cradled in the Bluestone River. A hidden treasure.

I get caught up in the lack sometimes. I look at life and get caught up in what isn't there. I long for things which always seem out of reach. It's hard not to long for the splendor and prominence, which may seem like only a whisper now. But, just as I now see Bramwell as a hidden treasure, I think this season offers us a hidden treasure if we are willing to dig for it. It's the hidden treasure of peace.

Take some time to read Isaiah 9, especially the opening verses. All I've read and listened to about this chapter points to Zebulun and Naphtali as being depressing places. All they knew was hardship. When Israel would be invaded, most invaders would come from the North, coming through Zebulun and Naphtali first. They took the brunt of the invasion. Also, any invaders who were defeated would retreat back the same way, wreaking havoc as they went. If you lived in either of these places you probably longed to be somewhere else. But Isaiah 9 also says that there will be no more gloom for these places. There will be a great light which will bring them out of the darkness. The light will be known as, among other titles, the Prince of Peace.

We know the Prince of Peace as Jesus. As awful as life was in the Northern parts of Israel at this time, Jesus would bring the longed-for peace. As dark as the world seemed, Jesus would be the light that pushed the darkness aside.

Maybe it comes from being uber-introverted, but I find that when I walk into an extremely busy season in my life, and I don't take time to be still, I get unsettled, restless. When I focus too much on my Christmas season itinerary I quickly get worn down. I need peace.

Sometimes, just like Bramwell, WV, peace is a hidden treasure that I may need to search for. Sometimes I need to force myself to stop, and read about how Jesus would bring peace and light to the ravaged and dark places (or how about lives?) of the world. Sometimes I need to make myself be still, and get peace by being in God's presence. I certainly don't find it by getting busier and busier. Searching for the deep, hidden treasure takes time and conscious effort. But, I'm trusting that Jesus has brought peace and offers it to me. I just need to stop and look for it sometimes.

Where is he?

I would like to call your attention to a Christmas tradition. I'm not sure how far back this tradition dates, but I believe it is now ingrained into the fabric of our holiday culture. No Christmas season would be complete without it. I'm talking about the "frantic search."

You know what I'm talking about. You rush out to the mall/department store/the Wal-Mart, sometimes as a last ditch effort, to find that perfect gift (or that I'm-buying-the-first-thing-I-find gift.). Or maybe it's the search for those items and ingredients that will pull your holiday meal together. You just know that if you keep walking up and down the isles you'll find what you're looking for. Or, if you're like me, every trip to Wal-Mart is a search for the most random assortment of items that leads through every nook and cranny of the store. This is complicated by the fact that I often get intensely impatient while shopping there and get bewildered when trying to find my way through a Purgatory, I mean Wal-Mart, that I'm not used to. This happened just the other day. I needed a few things for our Wednesday night youth meeting so I decided to make a quick trip (mistake #1) to Wal-Mart. I had an idea of what I wanted, but didn't know exactly (mistake #2), so I went in to look around. I'm not used to the Princeton Wal-Mart yet, so I was almost immediately lost. Remember, I'm impatient in this place, so I almost instantly become stressed about the time I'm losing in there and am already thinking about how I need to find my way out to get on with the other things I need to do. But, I don't yet have what I need, so I keep looking, aimlessly plodding along. It felt more like groping in the dark, heart beating faster as I get more impatient.

My life can seem so much like this sometimes. A frantic search. Groping in the dark. Aimlessly wandering around. Sometimes I know what I'm looking for, but other times I don't. Sometimes the search is casual, and other times it could very well be best described as a frantic search. I frantically search for direction, answers, peace, rest, etc. I try to search for God, trying to get a sense of his presence. I get impatient, and feel like I've wasted so much time. Sometimes, it seems like the longer I search the more frantic my searching becomes. The cry of my heart sometimes is, "Where is he?" "How long is this going to take?" "How long do I have to wait for ____ ?"

I desperately wish I knew how to answer the "Where is he?" question. Not just for myself, but for others too. But like so many before me I'm still searching. Waiting. And maybe that's the key: waiting. I haven't done so well with that. I've been rushed and impatient. Frantic. But here's an Advent lesson I think: God came and found me, so I can wait on him. Search for him? Oh yes, but no longer frantically. No longer by my own abilities in an effort to impress him. God came in the form of his son. His name is Immanuel, because he reveals that God is with us. I don't have to be frantic anymore. I can at last exhale, and wait on him.

"Yet those who wait for the Lord will gain new strength; they will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not get tired, they will walk and not become weary." Isaiah 40:31

I'm Afraid of Jesus

Does the title of this post shock you? Well, it shocks me, and I'm the one who wrote it! You must know that it is true. This isn't fiction. This is a man laying his soul open through a blog. Yes, shamefully, I'm afraid of Jesus.

I'm afraid of his mystery. I'm afraid of the things about him that I don't know. What if I miss something? What if he does something unexpected? What if I think one thing about him, but then find out later that I was wrong? What happens then?

At various times in my life I've been afraid of what I might lose if I become one of those "Jesus Freaks." What if I lose my reputation among my friends and family? What if I lose my job? (I once quit a job, giving no prior notice, because I felt it was what God wanted me to do. Probably wasn't wise, but I was desperate to do what he wanted. I was scared not to. Been there?) I mean, that happens to people right? They choose to follow Jesus and end up losing all those good things like jobs, reputations, money, etc.

I'm also afraid of what Jesus may not give me if I follow him. What if I miss out on the joy of life, because I choose to follow him? What if I choose to make myself miserable by making my life an endless list of obligations to Jesus (the do's and do not's of life)? What if I'm lonely the rest of my life? I used to be terrified by this thought: what if I choose to follow Jesus, and by choosing to follow, that means no marriage for me. Jesus couldn't possible give me that. I want it, and Jesus never gives me things I want.

And what if he changes me? What if he brings things up out of the depths of my heart that I want to keep pushed down? I put them down there for a reason, and there they should stay, right? What if he wants to talk to me about my anger? What if he wants to bring up my anxiety? Terrifying.

So, for all these things and more, there have been times in my life when, I must confess, I have been afraid of Jesus. I think we see some of this in the gospel of Matthew. When King Herod hears that one has been born "King of the Jews" he becomes "troubled." (Matthew 2:1-3) Although Herod didn't know the identity of this other "King of the Jews", Jesus' birth presented a problem for Herod. Herod had to think, "What if my power is challenged? What if this new king's followers rise up and try to overthrow me? What does this mean? What do I do now?" Herod had to have a strong desire to stay in power. I probably would to if I was a king.

And you know what? I have a strong desire to have the power in my own life, too. I want to remain on top. So, the birth, life, death, and resurrection of Jesus presents a problem. His coming causes me to ask: what if I lose control of my life? What if Jesus makes me uncomfortable? What if he asks me to do something I don't want to do? What if I end up isolated, lonely, and labeled one of those Christian fanatics? What do I do now?

I'll admit that there are still those times when I'm afraid of Jesus. I do let doubt creep in sometimes. But, as I pause, take some time and reflect on what Jesus coming for me means, those fears do seem to slip away. "For he rescued us from the domain of darkness, and transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son, in whom we have redemption, the forgiveness of sins." (Colossians 1:13, 14) Quoting this verse isn't an attempt to erase doubt and fear. Rather, it is to say that there is something I've found that is more powerful than fear: God's presence. Fear keeps me in the dark, but God, through Jesus, pulled me out of the dark. I may fear losing some things in this life, but I get so much more in his presence. I may fear that I won't have enough, but his presence really is enough. My fear of Jesus may cause me to distance myself, but it is for that very reason that he came, destroying the distance. This is a comforting Advent thought for me: even in the midst of my occasional fear of him, Jesus' presence is there.

Snow, Weather Reports, & Advent

A brief Sunday morning thought: around here, especially this time of year, many people spend time dutifully watching weather reports. This morning I'm watching, along with other church leadership, trying to determine if it's safe to have our morning services. I've got one eye on the local news and the other on my front yard. I'm fully attentive to what the weather is doing. I'm waiting on weather conditions

I should approach Advent this same way: fully attentive to what God is doing. I want to be expectantly, excitedly waiting for his presence. I want to keep one eye on the past (Christ's first Advent), and remember how Christ came, marking God himself being present with mankind. I also want to keep one eye on the future (his second Advent) and remember that I'm still waiting, longing for Christ to come again.

So, as you're huddled around your local news station, weather channel app, or as you enjoy a Sunday morning snow day ask yourself: how can I have the same expectancy about Christ? How can I long for him just as hard as I long for that precious snow day?

...a challenge for me because I love my snow days :)

Faithful To This Place

Bluefield. For the longest time this was a place I only vaguely knew of as the place where a best friend lived. Then it became the place where I chose to complete undergraduate studies at Bluefield College. And then, finally, became the place where my wife and I are settling down, trying to fix up a house and begin our lives together.

Is it paradise? Not exactly. There's no Waffle House close by (and that's a big deal). I think it would be fair to describe the weather as often dreary. I also think it would be fair to describe many of the roads as "old goat paths." If you need something late at night, and Wal-Mart doesn't have it, then you're not getting it. And you can't ignore the fact that people here are undeniably crazy.

On the other hand, is it paradise? YES. I also love the weather. Rarely do temperatures reach above 90 degrees during the summer (the occurrence is so rare that it is marked by the handing out of free lemonade across town). A healthy amount of snow during the winter is almost guaranteed. And the mountains. I can't get enough of our mountainous landscape around Bluefield. Small town living has its drawbacks, but I'm in love with it. And, you can't ignore the fact that people here are undeniably amazing.

Someone told me once that if you make friends with an Appalachian person, then they will do absolutely anything for you and give you the shirt off their back. However, if for some reason an Appalachian person doesn't care for you, then they won't even sell you the shirt off their back. Whether this is true of every person in the region remains to be seen, but I think I've seen a little of true friendship that exists among the people of this area whom I consider "my people." I love that I've been born and raised around good, country folks and share some common ancestry and background.

I want to be fiercely devoted to this town and this area. I want it to be better for me having been here. I want to take to heart Jeremiah 29:7, "Seek the welfare of the city where I have sent you into exile, and pray to the Lord on its behalf; for in its welfare you will have welfare." (NASB) Now, I don't see myself as being exiled here, but I do believe that the Lord was involved in me coming here. I believe the Spirit is working in and among my neighbors and friends here. I want to be part of that. Bluefield is a beautiful place. Not paradise, but paradise all at the same time.

What about you? Is it a challenge to be faithful to your town or city? Do you see your neighborhood as a place where God's Spirit is moving? What are you doing to be faithful to your city?

Being faithful in the Field of Blue,

Caleb