Speaking in Tongues - R

Just kidding. Today I want to speak about tongues. Specifically, I want to share a few thoughts on what I consider to be one of the more difficult teachings in our Bible.

I remember once in fourth grade, we had a very long lesson about weather and climate, and the teacher had clearly worked very hard at giving us practical tactile ways to show exactly how weather works. So we had multiple interactive activities, ending with a heat lamp over a bucket of sand and a bucket of water to show that the sun heats up land much faster than it heats up the ocean. Cute, right? Well, come test time, I was apparently the only person to get that question wrong. I said that the sun heats up the ocean faster. The teacher confronted me about it. She did not understand how after that entire lesson, I still didn't grasp the concept. I, of course, stood up for myself. If you wanted me to know that, Mrs. Patton, you should've just told me that.

I did not get recess that day.

Have you noticed that we talk all the time and still somehow manage to say very little? We've managed to create a sort of cultural expectation for words to fill whatever space that we're in while completely disregarding what purpose those words serve. Between us habitually asking each other, "How are you?" without caring in the slightest about the answer, gorging our minds on bite-sized chunks of information on Facebook or Twitter, or even whipping out our phones looking for something to distract us from imminent discomfort.

Along this line of thought, we have also become completely and utterly terrified of silence. Think about it, pretty much the only time we use the word silence in casual conversation, it is either preceded by the word 'awkward' or followed by 'of the lambs.' Our desire is for our words to completely fill a space or time, much like packing peanuts fill a large box. They have almost no weight, but they keep our days comfortable enough for us to survive and do it all again the next day.

And I think that in some ways, we actually defend this phenomenon as being part of a good Christian act. It is perfectly polite to engage my brother or sister in conversation. This is showing love. Or, at the very least, this is showing a basic kindness while I search for a way to show them love.

I want to argue (one of my favorite ways to use words) that we're just missing the mark when it comes to our speech. And no, the irony of me saying this in a long, drawn out blog post is not lost on me, but the rule is whoever identifies the problem gets to act like it doesn't affect them. So let's dive in.

Consider ships: They are so large that strong winds are needed to drive them. But pilots direct their ships wherever they want with a little rudder. In the same way, even though the tongue is a small part of the body, it boasts wildly. 

Think about this: A small flame can set a whole forest on fire. The tongue is a small flame of fire, a world of evil at work in us. It contaminates our entire lives. Because of it, the circle of life is set on fire. The tongue itself is set on fire by the flames of hell. 

People can tame and already have tamed every kind of animal, bird, reptile, and fish. No one can tame the tongue, though. It is a restless evil, full of deadly poison. With it we both bless the Lord and Father and curse human beings made in God’s likeness. Blessing and cursing come from the same mouth. My brothers and sisters, it just shouldn’t be this way! 

Both fresh water and salt water don’t come from the same spring, do they? My brothers and sisters, can a fig tree produce olives? Can a grapevine produce figs? Of course not, and fresh water doesn’t flow from a saltwater spring either. - James 3:4-12 (CEB)

Raise your hands if this makes you uncomfortable. Go ahead.

When thinking about one of the most important body parts of us living as Christians, I would not arrive at the tongue very quickly. I might start with the heart, soul, mind, and strength. But tongue? As someone who talks all the time, that scares me quite a bit.

There's one part of this passage that really caught my attention, though, and it's really easy to miss. James says that with our tongues we bless and curse. He then goes on to say that a saltwater cannot produce freshwater, and vice versa. I won't lie but it took me a couple readings to really grasp the implication there.

Your mouth is either one of blessing or one of cursing - not both.

For James, there's no grey area. Which means that if ours is a mouth that curses, it's completely impossible for any true blessing to come from it. Anything positive or uplifting that might come out of our mouths is completely negated by speech that insults, belittles, or tears down. In the Facebook era, then, the odds are not on our side.

So let me ask a question: is your mouth one of blessing or one of curses?

Or, to take it in a slightly different direction, how much of your speech is devoted to spreading the love of God?

Can you imagine if the only things we said were things that brought glory to God? I won't lie to you, I would not be speaking very frequently at the rate I'm headed. The vast majority of words out of my mouth have, at some point, appeared on daytime television. And while I don't think that goofy TV quotes necessarily fall into the "cursing" category, how much of that really serves the Kingdom of God?

Here's what I'm trying to get at. I'm not saying that to be a good Christian, you have to attempt to loudly preach a ground-breaking sermon everywhere you go. Trust me, I've tried, and now I'm not allowed to go back to Cinemark theaters. But I think we do need to be a little more careful with what we're putting out into the world. We do need to start evaluating our speech based on this litmus test, and we need to be extremely careful about how we're representing our God. Because if we are wearing the title of Christian, our speech needs to reflect that.

As always, I promise, I'm preaching more to myself than any of you. I fail miserably at this. Daily. But I've decided that I want my mouth to be one that produces blessing. And that takes discipline and consistency.

In the last week, I've prayed for the Spirit to enter my heart, Christ to be the focus of my mind, and for God to grant me strength. I hope you'll join me in asking that my tongue be transformed next.

Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. - Ephesians 4:29

~RJS~

What to do when there’s no inspiration?

It’s been kind of a rough week for me mentally, if you couldn’t draw that conclusion from the title. This may be a short blog, oops. They’ll get better, I promise. 

I think this is an important topic to talk about because there are days when even though we don’t want it to, the world keeps spinning. Sometimes that happens when we’re working on a fun thing, like when we have something that we’ve chosen to do not because it’s easy or even productive toward everyday life, but because we feel pulled, called to do, and yet it sits there not getting done (for the sake of metaphor, let’s say a blog. Definitely not something I’ve ever dealt with…).

And there are other, more vital things like providing for a family and/or doing a job and doing it well as we’re called to do that just feel impossible. I hope I’m not alone in saying that with most areas of my life I’ve stubbornly sat down and asked “is it even worth it? How does the benefit of doing this thing compare to the benefits of not doing this thing?” There are many, many times I’ve been frustrated to the point of not wanting to push any further.

My question is this: what do pastors do when they’re exhausted, and the idea of getting up in front of hundreds of people and passionately teaching the Word feels impossible? The reason I jumped to ministry is because if you profess Christ, you’re a pastor, right? Guys and girls alike, if we’ve publicly committed to Jesus we’re teaching others in some aspect, be it getting up and talking in front of people or just living life. No particular order there. Don’t read too deep into that because neither one is more important than the other. But there are other examples we could use, like what does a blog writer do when homework and just life in general is taking all his effort, and he has some time but not the energy to do what he really wants to do? How do we go on being examples when it’s hard to stay focused because of everything that’s going on?

Well, I think a fair baseline to draw is that a certain amount of self-denial is going to have to happen for anything to get done. But unmotivated workers don’t usually put forth their highest quality work. So how does the passionate speaker do it again and again? How does the servant of God consistently show the good of Jesus?

To answer this, I asked a few ministers in my life for their lack-of-inspiration escape plans. Something surprised me that probably shouldn’t have: every single one of the ministers I talked to brought the topic full circle back to God. Specifically, individual verses in the Bible. Each one. Good ministers, huh. One of those good ministers, Evan Burkett, said this:

“whenever I feel disconnected, the reason normally is that I’m spending all my time in books other than the Bible.”

Oof, amiright? Convictions for me. That means school books, books about “how to be a better Christian,” and it includes everything in between.

This brings me to my short main point, which is super simple:

God doesn’t check out when we do.

Genesis 35:3: “let us go to Bethel, where I will build an altar to God, who answered me in the day of my distress and who has been with me wherever I have gone”

 If our bodies quit, God doesn’t. Fortunately, when we come back after a hiatus of failure, God is still there. And he didn’t leave when we leave.

I find so much peace in that.

And so, when God seems like a difficult subject to communicate, I promise you he’s still there. I’m not saying you’re wrong for acknowledging that it’s difficult, because you’re not. I’m not saying there aren’t obstacles, because there are. But it doesn’t mean God isn’t there. Loving you, cheering you on. That’s cool.

I’ll leave you with what Tom, another good minister who spoke into my life, uses as his strategy when “uninspiration” creeps at his door. Read this from the perspective of a person who has the choice between running toward God and sitting and accepting the barriers that have been placed between you and him. I could go off about this, but I encourage you to draw your own conclusions. Read it slow. It hit me hard.

Philippians 2:1-8

Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Sprit, if any tenderness and compassion, then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility, value others as more important than yourselves, not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others. In your relationships with one another, have the same mindset as Christ Jesus: Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God something to be used to his own advantage; rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness. And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death – even death on a cross!

I challenge you to challenge yourself with that verse. I'm intimidated by it, to be honest. Applying this to lack of inspiration? It's tough. And convicting. But man, I'm thankful for a God that promises to never leave, even if I never figure it out.

~m

My Beef with Max Lucado - R

Today I want to talk about my big issue with renowned Christian author and preacher Max Lucado. And before any of you snitch on me, I need you to hear that I actually love him as an author. I think he is extraordinarily gifted at making the gospel accessible and easy to understand in a way that connects with readers at a deep level. So, if by some miracle this makes it back to you, Mr. Lucado, let's grab lunch next time you're in Abilene. My treat.

Lucado has published over 80 books, and I won't even act like I've read the majority or even a dozen yet, but there's one in particular that stands out to me. Did one of his study Bibles impact my life in a profound way? Not quite. Was it his analysis of what the cross means for our Christian hope? Nope. I'm speaking, of course, about Hermie: A Common Caterpillar. As you may be able to guess from the title, you won't find much controversial theology or scholarly apologetics defending the faith to the masses. No, it's a children's book about a caterpillar that talks to God.

Yes that's right. I have chosen a children's novel, which the website says is recommended for ages 4 and under, to get up in arms over. Bear with me, I beg you.

So, if you haven't read the book, it's actually quite a cute story (that was later turned into an animated video featuring the voice talents of Tim Conway and Don Knotts of all people??) about two caterpillars who talk to God. And all through the book, they look at other creatures, like the ant who has this incredible strength and the ladybug who has beautiful spots, and compare themselves, thinking they were just too plain. They were just too normal. And every time they raise these concerns in their talks with God, he has the exact same response.

"I'm not finished with you yet."

He assures his creation that in his good timing, they will become something beautiful. I absolutely love this promise from God, so rich in hope and love. And, sure enough, the book concludes with Hermie turning into a beautiful butterfly. God kept his promise, and Hermie was thrilled.

Great story, truly. But, like I said, I have some issues with it that I want to address. Because I think that the lessons that we are teaching our children about God are much more important than we realize. Messages like the ones contained in this cute kid's story can stick with a child for a very, very long time. That's what happened with me.

I want to start with the low-hanging fruit. I take the same issue with this story as I take with The Ugly Duckling. Jimmy Fallon, in his popular segment entitled "Thank You Notes," sums it up best, I think:

"Thank you, the story of the ugly duckling, for teaching children that what's important isn't what's on the outside, but what's on the outside LATER in life."

Really think about the moral of this story. It begins deceptively positively: "don't compare yourself to others, because God hasn't finished with you yet, your time is coming." That sounds wonderful! But at the end, it almost seems to say, "okay NOW you can compare yourself to others because God has finally given you that smokin' bod you've been asking for, and everyone else will be totally jealous."

Is this really the best message that we can impart on children? In our image-obsessed culture that grows more shallow by the minute, the last thing I want children hearing, whether explicitly or otherwise, is that their happiness will one day be secured in their appearance. Because guess what, kiddos, puberty came and went, and I still struggle immensely with the comparison game. Once that door is opened, it is enormously difficult to close. Why can't we spread more messages of overwhelming love and acceptance in our Christian books? And I know, I know, I'm picking apart a children's novel kind of ruthlessly, it's meant to communicate difficult truths in very simple terms after all. But here's the deal. I've seen this done so much better in multiple children's books. The example that stands out most to me is, ironically, another one of Lucado's best-sellers, You Are Special! This can be and has been done extremely well. It's time to turn a critical eye toward the messages we're spreading, especially the ones concerning the God we serve. These messages matter.

Okay, now that I'm good and worked up, let me get to my main issue with this, and I think you'll find this one even more applicable to your lives. I want to turn an eye toward God's refrain of "I'm not finished with you yet" that shows up throughout the story. This line serves as more than just a line from a sinfully catchy Rend Collective song that's been stuck in my head during this entire writing process. It can also be an extremely dangerous trap for your spiritual life.

Really think about the issue with telling ourselves that God is not finished with us yet. Place yourselves in young Riley's shoes. I was ten years old, and I gave my life to Christ. I was baptized in my home church surrounded by a crowd of witnesses. Paul says that my old self died and I was raised to new life in my baptism. And the problem that I had is a problem that many of us have faced at some point in our Christian journey:

I don't feel any different now than I was before.

I had carried with me this expectation that baptism would somehow make me a completely different person, a person capable of shrugging off sin that still haunts me, doubts that still plague me, and darkness that constantly threatens me. I expected that I would be able to always recognize God's presence in my life as I attempted to walk in step with his commandments.

And I think part of me expected, perhaps because of stories like this one, that God was finished with me.

The real danger in messages like this one is thinking that there will be a point in our lives on earth where we as Christians are finished. Where we have reached the goal, where God has decided that this is exactly what we need to be. I think that I carried this idea with me much longer than I realized. I found myself thinking, "If I could just take care of ________, nothing will stop me from being who God wants me to be." I think we get it into our heads that everything we do, whether in church, small groups, Bible class, or all alone, is just practice for becoming a better person. And I'm here to say we've got that twisted.

Because the grand secret of our human experience here on this planet, as near as I can figure, is that we are never finished. That's kind of the whole point isn't it? Why else would we have a deep, spiritual hunger for something greater and more powerful than ourselves? If there were some point when we could have enough prayer, enough love, enough service to be the community that God envisioned for us, we would render Jesus's sacrifice completely meaningless. The point of our spiritual disciplines is not to bring us closer to a perfect version of ourselves, but to bring us in closer relationship to our perfect Father. Our time in this life is meant to glorify God. This is what we are meant to practice throughout life. God wants us to see him in every aspect of our life, to revel in his love and generosity, to praise his name alone for all that he has done in and for us.

Yes, we are not finished yet. And praise God that we never will be. I pray that I don't live for some finish line. Help me to stay the work-in-progress I know I'm meant to be.

~RJS~

P.S.

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babies in a church service... inspiring? ~m

Mason here. My first shift. The intention of this post is to challenge, not offend. But if offense happens, it happens. Let's hop right to it.

Ever faked it through a Church service?

I think we all have. You've been a wreck in the parking lot but as soon as you hit the front doors you're all smiles. Singing those happy Grace songs and only reading the Psalms with happy endings. I think that's the norm. Distracted by the text that told you your uncle's health has taken a turn for the worse and he may not may not be alive to worry about next Sunday, but the greeter is saying "we're glad you're here" and it's time to stand up and meet the person next to you. I truly believe we've all been there. My uncles are all healthy at the moment, but still. You get my point.

Probably my most memorable "sad Church service" was a time years ago where I excused myself to the "restroom" in the middle of a Sunday evening class. Sure, I took a leak, but the leak came from my face and ended up in a puddle on the floor of an empty classroom as I collapsed and had a breakdown in the middle of a silent ocean of tears. Here's the kicker: after my little episode was over I stood up, straightened my hair and shirt, and strolled back into the class to lead the closing prayer. Nobody knew what had happened, and to this day nobody who was in that room knows that's why I left for a few minutes. So, I held it together until I was finally alone in my car, where I was allowed to express the way I was actually feeling. Which was sad. Obviously.

Maybe you haven't left the room to cry like a child during Church because that's suuuuper dramatic. But have you been at Church and felt like if you told someone "no, my life feels like it's falling apart and I'm not sure what to do or who to talk to," it would kind of throw off the vibe of the service? Plus it would be super awkward to say that during the "greet the person next to you" segment of the service and then sit next to them the whole time.

Right...?

It would be awkward...?

I'd like to propose to you, the jury, that NO. In a genuine group of people, opening up to the person next to you and spending time with them, actually facing something together, would NOT be awkward.

I'll use another overly dramatic story from my life. I was in an intentional prayer group with some guys in my social club. My life felt like it had been turned upside-down the night before (I won't bore you with the details), and I couldn't hold it in. My entire being felt cold, with no heat source. When we were talking about how our weeks went, I spilled my guts to these guys who proved themselves as my brothers in Christ that night. Not only was it not awkward like I thought it would be, they all stopped what they were doing to hear me out, truly listened to how I was feeling, and huddled around me in prayer. They filled me with the Spirit when I was too weak to do so myself. My soul was warm again.

______________________________________________________________

So. Back to Church services.

In my experience, it's kind of a big deal for someone to come forward and publicly ask for prayer. We all know that if we go forward and express our failures Berta, Gertrude, and Martha will each start their own Sunday lunch-table conversations with their respective families. I heard a story recently where someone had shared their testimony in front of their Church family, and the first words out of a respected member of the Church's mouth were "I can't believe he would say something so inappropriate here! Doesn't he know where he is?"
Made me a little mad. Not gonna lie. I could rant about that but I don't want to skip my main points.

 I have a few ideas explaining why I think sadness is kind of the ugly step-nephew of a gathering of Believers.

First: the sneaky teacher that slips through the cracks despite its crushing impact: silence.  

Silence over a subject is one of the loudest teachers. While I wish the world worked in a different way, I've seen this harsh reality come to fruition time and time again: silence is perceived consent for the most active and intrusive perpetrator to move in. If there are no defenses set up, the most aggressive force will occupy the most area. The heaviest object will usually go the lowest.
What, then, will happen if our true mental health is not spoken in Christian community? What will happen if we think that we don't have a reason to talk about what we actually feel in the place that should keep us grounded in perspective? Well...teenagers probably feel a heightened level of alone when they think there's no other option than to hide in a classroom at Church and deal with feelings there (@me). I'm pretty sure this is happening right now. I realize I may be generalizing, but I think it's a big enough problem to where we can blanket this problem over many, many Churches. The worst part about silence is that we can all plead ignorance, as if we didn't know any better. But I'm kind of tired of using that excuse in my life. My hypothesis is that if we talk about it with intention, things will change because knowledge is power. Simple as that.

Idea numero dos: the lie of maturity.

At what age is it no longer acceptable to communicate emotions genuinely? Why are babies the only ones allowed to cry in Church? 
I know I'm probably sounding insanely #feely and #emotional and #safespacey, but I want to remind you of John 11:35: Jesus Wept. He didn't weep because his friend was dead, he wept because his friend needed saving. To put that in my own words, the weight of the world was hitting him extra hard that day. Keep in mind he knew the end of the story. He knew his Father's power, and he knew Lazarus would walk the earth again. But man, in that moment, life just sucked.
Satan hits hard, and where will we turn when he keeps kicking us while we're on the floor? A silent group of people with fake smiles and sloppily plastered masks covering their real lives? That's why this is so important to talk about. We need to be an environment to fall back upon, because people have to fall back on something. It's inevitable that we'll go to something for comfort because it's inevitable that the world won't always be dandelions and fluffy goats, and forcing people to create their own safe spaces in Church just most likely won't work. My hypothesis here is that if more people begin to break the stigma of "maturity equals no emotions," more people will rely on their assemblies of brothers and sisters to be a safe space because when someone takes the first step, another will usually follow.

Third idea: this one falls on personal philosophy.

Here are two of my personal struggles lumped into the "this one's on you, homie" subsection. They're two things that I think I will always have to deal with because of how engrained they are in my brain.

Guilt and fake apathy. 

I'm just diving into my own mind and giving y'all a glimpse here: I don't truly appreciate God's love... a LOT of the time. That's not something that should be taken lightly, either. I heard an incredible visualization of guilt last year: Satan uses guilt as a cycle. He gets a toehold of guilt which causes us to be timid. That timidity causes us to retract and not face the problem. Since we ran from the problem, it happens again. Guilt again. 🔄. Inside that process is the fake apathy, or "putting off" until another time. Know what the Bible says about putting something off until tomorrow, or after that nap? 

A little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep--so shall your poverty come on you like a prowler, and your need like an armed man. 

-Prov 6:10-11

Not to be overdramatic with that Bible verse but I want to emphasize the fact that the devil wants us to not think about our responsibilities. And I would argue that fully embracing God's love is a responsibility of being a Christian. So if I pretend like I'm not guilty when I truly am, if I pretend to not care about what eats me up when I'm alone, and if I don't let myself go to my brothers and sisters in Christ, Satan can and will take advantage of that fact. I forget this all the time and have to constantly remind myself that things will not get better if I keep pushing them down. They come back stronger if I bury them alive.
My hypothesis for this subsection is this: If we face what we're afraid of, Run Toward the Roar and tap into the power given to us by Jesus defeating the grave, we'll be more connected and have less to be guilty about. The guilt pales in comparison to God's incredible love, grace, and true comfort.

Okay, here's a short wrap-up

We can always find problems in the places with which we're most familiar. I grew up in the Church, and it molded me into who I am today. It taught me so much, and in many ways it taught me true community. I see an opportunity for increased transparency in that community, and I am so excited to work on practicing what I preach here. But I can't do it alone. I need people with a similar mindset or I'll just be the one who's stared at for sharing my story. So I want to encourage you to intentionally start talking and take the risk to communicate what you're feeling with the person next to you. I want to encourage you to embrace the best parts of youth: transparency and honesty. I want to encourage you to bring into the light what's weighing you down with guilt.

Because everything's scarier in the dark.

Don't be afraid, God's got you.

~m

P.S. If Riley and I haven't scared you off yet, please subscribe to hear more! If you're on a mobile device: go to the blog's home page, scroll to the bottom, click "view web version," then go to the bottom again and type in your email address. Sorry. Complicated I know. You may regret it, but you can always unsubscribe if you do!