An Enduring Image

Dear Faith Family,   

"...he disciplines us for our good, in order to share in his holiness."
(Hebrews 12:10) 


As the Letter to the Hebrews draws to a close, there are two repeated exhortations. First, consider Jesus Asended*, "seated at the right hand of the throne of God" (12:2). And seconcd, endure in holy living, "lay aside every weight and sin whih clings so closely, and...run with endurance the race that is set before us" (12:1). Consider Jesus and endure in a life holy, a life set apart for purpsoe. 

Is it not amazing that of all the images we have been encouraged to consider throughout the Letter to the Hebrews, the final and lasting image is you and me, of us, being "disciplined,"--trained up to fulfill the maturation of our potential--in our ordinary rhtyms and relationships through the "holiness" of Jesus--His unquie, powerful, source of life--which He shares with us and we share with others. An image of being trained by holiness, for holiness; imagine that! 

It seems the author of our letter desires us to hold that image in our minds and bring it to the forefront in our communities still today: 

"Now may the God of peace who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, the great shepherd of the sheep, by the blood of the eternal covenant, perfectly fit you with everything good in order to do his will, working in us that which is pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ, to whom be the glory forever and ever. Amen." (Hebrews 13:20-21)


While the idea that in our life with Jesus Ascended* we are perfectly fitted to be holy in all our conduct (1 Peter 1:14-15), the image of being disciplined by holiness for holiness is somewhat hazy for most of us. The reason is the baggage that comes with both the words "discipline" and "holiness." 

Be honest: when you read the verse atop this note —"he disciplines us for our good" — were your first thoughts or feelings positive, evoking warm memories? Or, did you cringe a little? If you are like me, and those hearing the Letter to the Hebrews first read, your experience of discipline--instruction that matures--brings with it memories of discipline's bite: 

"For the moment all discipline seems painful rather than pleasant, but later it yields the peaceful fruit of righteousness to those who have been trained by it." (Hebrews 12:11) 


No matter how far into the marathon of faith we find ourselves, we all want the fruit of a mature life without having to go through the process and means of maturing. We want the end, yet, as the author of Hebrews reminds us, we cannot skip the admittedly and momentarily unpleasant middle. So, we are encouraged to recognize that this part of our pilgrimage matters, even if our first instinct is to recoil at the thought of it. But discipline is not the only word with baggage. 

Holiness, too, comes with a whole load of its own. When you hear the exhortation to strive for holiness, what kind of life comes to mind? While your specific image may differ from mine, I'd be willing to bet it evokes the mixed emotions of a standoffish goodness and a worthy but impossible standard. While the baggage of our experiential understanding of holiness is weighty, as we discussed on Sunday, the biblical baggage of the word is actually relatively light. 

But rather than explain with more words, a visual may be more helpful. So, while I'd encourage you to come back to Read and Listen, if you want to jump to Watch and Contemplate, you will discover why the image of discipline through shared holiness is an enduring vision of our lives with Jesus Ascended*. 



Love you, faith family. God bless! 

A Vision of Perfection

Dear Faith Family,   

"Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. For by it the people of old recieved their commendation."
(Hebrews 11:1-2) 


The story of faith from which our faith springs is full of heros and heroines. Men and women who overcame and were overcome, both, with the sure hope that a life lived or given up in pursuit of something better was indeed a commendable--God affirmed as good--life. Their stories, remembered with beautiful brevity in Hebrews 11, not only remind us of the heritage into which we are reborn, but also exhort us to take up the story and keep going within something better. 

In fact, that's precisely how the story of the past ends, with an exhortation that the story of faith is not complete, instead, it will not reach its perfection--its telos, purpose, or maturation--unless we join in. 

"And all these, though commended through their faith, did not recieve what was promised, since God had provided something better for us, that apart from us they should not be made perfect."
(Hebrews 11:39-40) 


So, what is that "something better" that our faith's foreparents lived towards but through us is now being realized? The image the author of Hebrews give us might not be what we expect, at least not intially. While affirming the fundamental desire for "a better country, that is, a heavenly one" (11:16a), the author of Hebrews draws a more concrete picture for the perfection of faith:

"Therefore God is not ashamed to be called their God, for he has prepared for them a city." (Hebrews 11:16b) 



The vision of a city may not be that striking to you and me, espcially as inhabitants of vast cities. But, the image has a long history in our faith, especially the idea of a city in "whose designer and builder is God" (11:9). The city of God, infact, inspired the Son's of Korah to pen a hymn which we still have today in the form of Psalm 87: 

"On the holy mount stands the city he founded; the Lord loves the gates of Zion more than all the dwelling places of Jacob. Glorious things of you are spoken, O city of God. Among those who know me I mention Rahab and Babylon; behold, Philistia and Tyre, with Cush— 'This one was born there,' they say. And of Zion it shall be said, 'This one and that one were born in her'; for the Most High himself will establish her. The Lord records as he registers the peoples, 'This one was born there.' Singers and dancers alike say, 'All my springs are in you.'" 



As I am sure you picked up one, the vision of God's city is beautifully complex. This city is known not for its walls, but its gates, a rare distinction in those days. And, it is a city in which the cities of God's enemies (Babylon, Philistia, etc.), are reborn!

It's within this wonderously profound image that the author of Hebrews invites us to consider the perfection (telos or goal) of our faith's story in which we play a consequential role. A vision, as we discussed on Sunday, of the city of God not merely as a place but a people: "You are the light of the world. A city ...” (Matthew 5:14).

To enter into this vision of the city of God, and so into our place within the story of faith pefercted, let's do what we've been doing: consider our lives with Jesus Ascended*. 


May we see in Jesus Ascended*, our life as "a spring" of life our city. 

Love you, faith family. God bless! 

A Shift In Focus

Dear Faith Family,   

"I thank Thee, O Lord my God, for Thou hast not rejected me, a sinner, but hast made me worthy to be a partaker of Thy Holy Things." 



Each of the past six Sundays, we have confessed these words aloud together moments after receiving those sacred symbols that reveal our redeemed reality: Christ in us, our hope of glory (Col. 1:27). As our time in Hebrews has made clear, only because Jesus' life lived, died, resurrected, and ascended for us, are we now called "holy brothers and sisters...who are partakers in a heavenly calling" (Heb. 3:1). Becasue Jesus Ascended* we can live differerntly, more specifically, free. 

As we discussed on Sunday, Jesus Ascended* means we can live free, free from the bonds of sin, the deception of the enemy, and the fear of death. In fact, if we take the time to consider our lives together in Jesus, we'll recognize that we have already experienced this freedom in our shared sufferings (Heb. 10:32-34). 

Hebrews chapter 10 marks a shift of focus, not away from Jesus Ascended*, but through our vision of Jesus Ascended* to those in Him. As we continue to keep His image, we consider our life with Him. So we, too, will make a slight shift in our focus to consider our lives with Jesus Ascended*. 


As you ponder your life already lived with Jesus Ascended*, "do not throw away your confidence which has great reward..." for "we are not those who shrink back and are destroyed, but...those who have faith and persevere their souls" (Heb. 10:35, 39). 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Simple & Blessed

Dear Faith Family,   

"Therefore, holy brothers and sisters, you who share in a heavenly calling, consider Jesus, the apostle and high priest of our confession" (Hebrews 3:1)



On Sunday, we did something our faith heritage has done for multiple millennia: we feasted! On quiche, croissants, and bacon!  

Now, the peculiarities of these feasts have been as varied as the times, places, and peoples who have enjoyed them over the course of history, yet the basics remain the same. We, like the billions before us, came together in thanksgiving, offering praise in songs and smiles, in conversation and confession, and receiving the simple elements provided as savory reminders of the redemption that brought us together in the first place. 

Perhaps because sharing a meal with others is such a common, ordinary experience, unlike the somewhat irregular stand-sing-sit-silence-sermon-stand-sing rhythm of a church service, we are prone to miss the wondrous reality being experienced around the table. As we were reminded on Sunday, what our faith heritage has known for generations is that these simple experiences are revelatory, allowing us to experience, through food and drink and fellowship, the veil between heaven and earth being pulled away. 

Whether you were able to dine with us or not on Sunday, I want to invite you to "consider Jesus" as you meditate on the mysterious truth which our faith confesses: that at a table of thanksgiving with others, the foundations of the universe are vividly revealed. 

Let the wonder of this revelation sink in by doing what we've done the last few weeks:


As you ponder Jesus Ascended* and this simple act of remembrance as a way to experience so much more that he left for us (Mt. 26:26-29), may our hearts be filled with thanksgiving as those who have experienced deliverance and redemption. And, recognizing the source of our blessedness, might we offer in return that which has been gifted to us: a life set apart.

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

What's More Excellent?

Dear Faith Family,   

"But as it is, Christ has obtained a ministry that is as much more excellent than the old as the covenant he mediates is better..." (Hebrews 8:6)



For the last several weeks, we've been pondering the image of Jesus Ascended* as our merciful and faithful High Priest of good things. After all, this is the picture of Jesus painted in detail throughout the Letter to the Hebrews. And while we said that the image of a priest may be less familiar to some, hopefully, as you've contemplated the visual of Jesus Ascended*, you, like me, have become more able to picture and appreciate this unique image of Christ. 

Speaking of unique, the visual of Jesus' priestliness in Hebrews breaks whatever mold or model of priest we have in our minds. Yes, Jesus does what the priests before him did. However, says the author of Hebrews, "They serve a copy and shadow of the heavenly things" (Heb. 8:5). The reality of who Jesus is and what He does as our high priest constitutes a more excellent ministry. As we discussed and watched on Sunday, this "much more excellent" ministry, not merely a model of ministry, is what humanity has needed and God has desired since we first found ourselves in need of a mediator, in a life outside of Eden. 

What is the more excellent ministry? Well, the author of Hebrews sums it up this way: 

"But when Christ had offered for all time a single sacrifice for sins, he sat down at the right hand of God...For by a single offering he has perfected for all time those who are being sanctified." (Hebrews 10:12,14)



Jesus Ascended*, once for all, "has perfected," made wholly mature in the past and for the future, all those who "are being" made holy, set apart for goodness, in the present. Let the wonder of Hebrews 10:14 sink in for a moment. Better yet, do what we've done the last few weeks:


As you ponder Jesus Ascended* and his once-for-all offering, may we see not a model to follow but a more excellent high priest to whom we are united. Seeing that what is true of Him now and forever is also true of us today and into eternity, let us live in the perfection of our sanctification. 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

A Mysterious Resemblance

Dear Faith Family,   

"He became what we are, that we might become what he is." (St. Athanasius)



Athanasius of Alexandria, the fourth-century church father who is credited with being a leading voice in the formation and defense of what has been for millennia the unifying orthodoxy of the Church across traditions, succinctly summarizes the reason why Jesus, as the high priest of good things, had to be a priest of a different order. A priest, as the author of Hebrews tells us, "after the order of Melchizedek….a forerunner on our behalf" (6:19).

Now, I'm sure you're familiar with the story of Melchizedek. Right? It's okay if you are not! His appearance in our Scriptures is relatively brief, covering only three verses in Genesis 14. 

"And Melchizedek king of Salem brought out bread and wine. (He was priest of God Most High). And Melchizedek blessed Abram and said, 'Blessed be Abram by God Most High, Possessor of heaven and earth; and blessed be God Most High, who has delivered your enemies into your hand!' And Abram gave Melchizedek a tenth of everything." (vv. 18-20) 


Returning from redeeming his nephew Lot from being possessed against his will, caught in the middle of warring masters attempting to take what they desired to be theirs alone, Abram (who will soon be called Abraham), wins a significant victory in his rescue mission. Not only does he free Lot, he also plunders the collection of enemies.

It is here, after the redemption had been accomplished, that Abraham is blessed by Melchizedek, this mysterious king-priest who stands apart from the other so-called masters. The blessing, as you can see, is actually an acknowledgement that God Most High himself actually led the redemption Abraham participated in! Around a table of bread and wine, a feast of thanksgiving (eukharistia), having recognized that the victory and freedom he experienced was actually God's doing, start to finish, Abraham offers a tenth or a "tithe" of what was God's already. 

That's the story. And while the scene is brief, Melchizedek's blessing and Abraham's response had a profound and lasting impact on the imagination of God's future family. Not only does this story provide the model for the Levitical priesthood from the time of Moses onward, but by the time the author of Hebrews mentions him, Melchizedek has taken on an almost mythological identity. As we discussed on Sunday, Melchizedek stood apart from the entanglements of the warring kingdoms, as king of a place called peace with a name that meant righteous (Heb. 7:2), whom death had no claim over: 

"He is without father or mother or genealogy, having neither beginning of days nor end of life, but resembling the Son of God, he continues a priest forever."
(Hebrews 7:3) 


What was mythocal for Melchizedek, argues the author of Hebrews, was literal for the One he resembled. And that is the key to understanding Athanasius' distillation of the good news: 

"This becomes even more evident when another priest arises in the likeness of Melchizedek, who has become a priest, not on the basis of a legal requirement concerning bodily descent, but by the power of an indestructible life." (Hebrews 7:15-16)


A life not entangled in the lusts of conflicting forces, a life not bound by death, a life not mastered but willfully surrendered, now becomes our life. That is what the author of Hebrews says Jesus Ascended*, the priest after the order of Melchizedek, has done for us. This reality is what Athanasius echoes, helping us to envision a life in which, 


"It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me."
(Galatians 2:20) 



Imagine that. No, really, set aside some time today to imagine that the life you live is actually the "indestructible" life of Jesus Ascended*. 

As we've done the last few weeks, I invite you to:


As you see yourself in Jesus and Jesus in you, may you enter into the place of peace with God and live now—even if not fully yet—righteously, making a life good, for the blessing of others and the flourishing of the world.

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Why So Much Talk About Blood?

Dear Faith Family,   

"For if the blood of goats and bulls...sanctify for the purification of the flesh, how much more will the blood of Christ...purify our conscience (soul) from dead works to serve the living God."
(Hebrews 9:13-14)



How much more? That's the question the author of Hebrews proposes. How much more effective, eternal, extensive is the blood of Christ offered because of sin, for life different? After all, that's why, 

"Jesus entered once and for all into the holy places, not by means of the blood of goats and calves, but by means of his own blood, thus securing for us an eternal redemption." (Hebrews 9:12) 



While the concept of a priest, and Jesus as our high priest of good things, might have felt foreign to some of us, I am confident that the ritual sacrifices involving blood are actually foreign to us! And while I am sure we have all sung the words, "I've been washed by the blood of the Lamb," or something comparable, do we really understand the necessity of Christ's blood as an offering that changes us? How do blood and redemption relate? 

The idea of innocent blood covering the shame of a forfeited life so life might continue goes back to the first moments of life with God ruptured by human sin (Genesis 3:21). The idea of the cost of a guilty life, being lifeblood itself as a means of maintiaing justice with mercy for the good of all life, follows the judgment of evil and promise of perptual forebarence at the peak of humanity's violence (Genesis 6:1-9:17). Yet, the concept becomes solidfied in story and ritual in the infamous final plauge which breaks the people of Israel free from the grip of slavery known as "the Passover" (Exodus 11-12). 

It is during the Passover that the high priest enters the holy of holies with the blood sacrificed to make atonement for sin, thereby redeeming from the blood guilt all the people of God through the blood offered, which God had provided. That's the context behind Hebrews 9. While that might be helpful to understand why the author is making the comparison between the blood animals and the blood of Jesus, as we discussed on Sunday, sometimes we need to see something before we can really appreciate it. 

Similar to last week, I invite you to:

  • Watch the video then

  • Take 10 minutes to contemplate Jesus Ascended*. 



Envision your merciful and faithful high priest of good things, "After making purification for sin, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high..." Allow the images of Jesus in your mind and heart to lead your lips into confession and praise to the One who has reclaimed us. 


Love you, faith family. God bless. 

A Different Image of Christ

Dear Faith Family,   

"...Christ appeared as a high priest of good things..."
(Hebrews 9:11)



What does it mean that Jesus is our "high priest"? Jesus as Lord, or King, I get. He's the One that I submit to, whose reign ensures my living. Jesus as Savior, Messiah, I also get. He's the One who rescues, God's anointed, whose actions ensure my reconciliation. Jesus as Prophet, the Word, I also get. He's the One who forms and upholds life, whose way of life must become my way of living. Yet, Jesus as Priest, if I am honest, feels more foreign to me. 

Perhaps Jesus as priest is less of a mystery to certain Christian traditions; however, growing up in a Protestant, specifically Baptist tradition, the concept of needing much less having a priest was as distant as the Jewish temple system. The idea of priests was archaic, an old way of doing things that had its time but whose time had passed. 

And yet, as Psalm 133 contended, the concept and necessity of the priesthood are essential to our faith, faithfulness, and delight. So, where can those like me go to help us understand and experience the weight and wonder, the majesty and mysteries of Jesus as our "merciful and faithful high priest in the service of God" (Hebrews 2:17)? The clue is in the quotes! 

"The Letter To The Hebrews" is all about the priestly work of Jesus, and the implications for us as "a royal priesthood" (1 Pet. 2:9), "made into a kingdom and priests of our God" (Rev. 5:10) through the offering of our lives to his will and way (Rom. 12:1-2). In this letter, we discover what Jesus alone could and has done for us, and why, as well as what Jesus continues to do for us and through us. 

As you might have guessed, we'll be walking through Hebrews together over the next few months, a journey we began this past Sunday. This week, before we get too far into the details of this "most magnificent" and "most difficult book," I invite you to do three things: 


Envision your merciful and faithful high priest of good things, "After making purification for sin, he sat down at the right hand of the Majesty on high..." Allow the images of Jesus in your mind and heart to lead your lips into confession and praise. 

"Since we have a great high priest...Jesus, the Son of God, let us hold fast to our confession...[and] with confidence draw near to the throne of grace..." (Hebrews 4:14,16) 



Love you, faith family. God bless. 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

*In the Orthodox Tradition, icons (like the one above) are used to aid in contemplation and prayer. These images are not relics; that is, they are not considered holy in themselves, nor are they worshiped. Instead, they help stir imagination towards prayer by offering a reflective image based on the story of the Scriptures. Each element in the icon is meant to make us think of something from the story of the Scriptures, compelling us through our eyes and minds to consider (in this image) the weight and wonder, majesty and mystery of Christ Jesus as our great high priest. 

From A Certain Perspective

Dear Faith Family,   

"Come, bless the LORD all you servants of God…You priests of God...bless the LORD…May the LORD...bless you…"
(Psalm 134)



Bless, bless, and be blessed. That is the simple summary of our final Psalm of Ascent. One final time, gathered with those who are similarly on a pilgrimage of faith alongside us, nearly at the pinnacle of our personal road, the collective cry is raised: "Look back and bless! Look back and see your future!" 

"Look back," all you who willfully started down this pilgrim path towards Life, that chosen turning from one way and committed giving ourselves to a way ancient and forever, which our first psalm remembers. "Look back," and, as we reflected on Sunday, see that you are here despite yourself and the difficulties of daily travel. Look back and give voice (bless!) to God's providence, his help, his keeping you, persevering you. You are here, on this day, at this moment, entering into the place of God's presence...By His grace... so "bless the LORD"! Bless the Lord that the pilgrim journey--both over a lifetime and across a week--is made precisely because, as we allow ourselves to rest in reflection on every Sunday, Christ is with us and for us. Bless the LORD! 

The song of our arrival is first an invitation to look back at what God has done, to see where God has been with us and for us in the days behind, and bless, glorify, give voice to His goodness for the sheer fact that we are here in this moment in His presence. But the psalm does not give us a singular blessing, but a second command to "bless the LORD." 

"Look back, all you who willfully started down this pilgrim path towards life, and found that you are not merely a recipient of grace, but a participant in it. Through your worship and work, your pursuit of the good in humility and obedience, you have become for your fellow travelers and others along the way a "priest of God," as we discussed last week. "Look back," and see how God has used you, how you have participated in the grace of God in the travels of others, and bless the LORD! Give voice (bless!) to God's grace through you. You are here, and this is what you are made to do! 

"Look back and bless!" That is the first two-thirds of the song at the end, but it is not the last. The final refrain says, "Look back and see your future," look back and in so doing, see that indeed the blessing of God has been upon you and see that the blessing (favor) of the LORD will be with you as you return to the days ahead. To look back is to see what lies ahead, the grace of God upon and through us. 

"May the LORD of Zion bless you, the maker of heaven and earth!" (Psalm 134:3)



Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Stuck In The Middle With You

Dear Faith Family,   

"Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together...For there the LORD has commanded the blessing, life forevermore."
(Psalm 133:1,3)



If you have been around the Church for long, hearing familial affection and proximity being extolled as an ordained good, a foretaste of life eternal, is nothing new. Indeed, we are trained in our Scriptures and traditions to recognize the essential and blessed nature of the Church, of being a part, a member of the family of faith, a brother or sister in Christ. 

While the proclamation of the psalm's beginning and end might not strike us as novel, the delight and blessedness of a life together with our fellow children of God, the middle does seem to hit us differently: 

"It is like the precious oil on the head, running down the beard, on the beard of Aaron, running down on the collar of his robe!" (Psalm 133:2)



It is easy for us moderns to pass over the symbolism and references of verse two, perhaps dismissing the verse as disconnected poetic extravagance. But, as we discussed on Sunday, verse two really is the key. The key, not just to understanding the psalm, but to experiencing God's commanded blessing in our life together in Jesus today. 

What the psalmist is saying is that the promised blessing of the presence of God, the Spirit of God covering us, sticking to us, and fragrancing our lives like oil, is mediated by our priestly sibilings. That's right, your brother in Christ, your sister in Jesus, is your priest, anointed by God, called and empowered to help you encounter God and remain on our shared pilgrim path. 

The psalmist declares that the goodness and delight of life together are experienced because he has received the grace of God through his spiritual sibling. That in fact, God has commanded that this is how the blessing, life forevermore, is to be experienced along our ascending journey. We're not told how this grace is mediated, only that God has anointed your fellow sister and brother in Christ to be for you one who makes Him known to you.  

Think about that for a moment. Think about your brothers and sisters in the faith. Name them. See their faces in your mind's eye right now. Think about each of them as being anointed, called, and empowered by God to impart His grace to you in a way unique to them and providentially necessary for you. 

We are all aware that no matter how much the idea(l) is praised, making a life, dwelling with relations (whether spiritual or biological) is not always "pleasant." But what if, as verse two compels, rather than seeing in our siblings ones to compete with or even to serve, we see them as God's gift of grace, not generally, but specifically, to us. What might change in our feelings and experience of life as a faith family? 

Perhaps, like the psalmist, we might be pressed to praise God for the daily refreshment of life through those we journey with Jesus alongside. Possibly, too, we might, as a brother or sister ourselves, be more inclined to lean into our God-annointed calling as well. 

May we sing in experienced conviction with the psalmist and those beside us along the Way, "Behold, how good and pleasant it is when brothers dwell together!" 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

More Than An Emotion

Dear Faith Family,   

"What is the chief end of man?
Man's chief end is to glorify God and enjoy him forever."
(Westminster Catechism)



What is the purpose of life, the primary aim of your living and mine? The first question asked by the nearly 500-year-old catechism (summary of principles used for instruction) is, indeed, the essential question of humanity. A question every human, civilization, and society has (and is) answered in some form or fashion throughout history. The answer is two-fold. 

The first part is expected, at least for those of us who have grown up in the Church: "glorify God". The granular specifics on how we fulfill this aspect of our chief end have varied to some degree across the various times and places of those seeking to achieve it. "To glorify God, you have to ______." I am sure you fill in the blanks with at least a few different answers. Yet, as we were reminded after Easter, the essential and straightforward description of a life that glorifies God is one lived in a whole and holy relational rhythm. 

It's the first aspect that takes up most of our attention, and rightly so. But, we can't miss the second, contends the Church throughout history, if we want to live a truly good (perfect) life. Let me say that again: if we're going to live a good, complete life —a life that glorifies God —we must live a life of enjoyment, a life of joy. 

Joy, as Dylan and Psalm 126 reminded us on Sunday, is merely an end, something we arrive at; joy is a means to our singular end. Only as we enjoy our true life in God through Christ will we live a life that demonstrates the beauty of God. Only as we live a life that declares the beauty of God's good purposes will we experience the essential joy of living...forever. 

Here, at the midpoint of the Psalms of Ascent, we are encouraged to be transformed and empowered through joy. In your life given up to and kept by God's goodness (Psalms 120-121), given over to His glory (Psalm 122-123), trusting His greatness (Psalm 124-125); be filled and overflow with joy, says the psalmist in Psalm 126. Joy because of what life in God has meant and will mean. Joy is not meant merely as the feeling at the end of the pilgrimage, but its very purpose. 

As we pray and reflect on Psalm 126 this week, may we experience joy as our end, here in the middle. And may the words of Jesus to his disciples and friends shape the purpose and practices of our daily living. 


"By this my Father is glorified, that you bear much fruit and so prove to be my disciples. As the Father has loved me, so I have loved you. Abide in my love. If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full."

(John 15:8-11) 




Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Remembering The Start

Dear Faith Family,   

"Or have you forgotten that when we were joined with Christ Jesus in baptism, we joined him in his death? For we died and were buried with Christ by baptism. And just as Christ was raised from the dead by the glorious power of the Father, now we also may live new lives."
(Romans 6:3-4)



When the Church's gatherings began to move from primarily in homes, fields, and cemeteries into dedicated "sanctuaries" -- a transition entangled with political motives and not universally adopted, still it seems -- the apostle Paul's question, "Have you forgotten...your baptism?" was at the top of mind.  

Whether as large "fountains" constructed just outside the doors of repurposed ancient temples, or, as paedo (infant) baptism became more normal, in the smaller "fonts" added just within the doors at the back of the sanctuary, requiring all who entered "the church" to pass through them on their way in. Or, as many of us who practice credo (confessional) baptism are more familiar, the "baptistry" was placed at the front of the sanctuary and elevated, giving the sense that all that took place in front of the font did so because it took place in the font. Remembering our baptism has been literally built into Church.  

This coming Sunday morning, we'll have the opportunity to remember our baptisms as we celebrate the baptism of Ellie Holtkamp! If you are in town and able, I hope you'll join us in this joyous ancient rite. In the meantime, I encourage you to remember your baptism. Remember that you have been, as Paul reminds, immersed in the atoning death of Christ Jesus, raised through the cleansing waters of His actions into a new life with God. Everything that takes place as the Church on the other side or in front of this, your life as worship (Rom. 12:1-2), takes place because 

"...we have been united with Christ Jesus in a death like his, we shall certainly be united with him in a resurrection like his." (Romans 6:5) 



May we not forget our baptism, but rather, with gratitude and courage, truly live. 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Joining Together...To Mourn

Dear Faith Family,   

"The LORD is near to the brokenhearted and saves the crushed in spirit."

(Psalm 34:18)



Our summer psalms have been helping us connect various aspects of our day-to-day pilgrimage through life to the promises and actions of God on our behalf. Between the Day of rest, these "songs of transition," seasonally prayed and contemplated, ground the comings and goings, ups and downs of our daily living in the once and persevering joyous work of God for life--ours and our fellow pilgrims. 

While intimately personal, the psalms' existence is inherently communal, compelling us to pray not just for ourselves, but with and for others who, like us, can only make a life in and through the grace of God. This other orientation, coupled with the tragic events in South Texas over the last week, cannot help but raise tension in our prayer and contemplation. How can I consider the merciful providence of God in my life, turn my praise to Him in joyous testimony of His goodness towards me, and give myself to His goodness for the sake of another, and not hear the cries of those who've lost so much echo in the ears of my mind and heart? How can I pray what feels impossible for people experiencing such devastation to pray? 

Praying the particular Psalms of Ascent with their seemingly certain triumph of goodness has not been an easy task these last few days, at least for me. Yet, the wonder of praying the entire psalter repeatedly is that we are trained on what to pray when we feel that the weight of the current moment conflicts with the words of our scheduled practice. 

Because the LORD is near the brokenhearted (Ps. 34:18), we pray for our fellow humans and pilgrims that through their grief they will know both the nearness of the One who grieves with them, and believe for those who cannot, praying: 

"You who have made me see many troubles and calamities will revive me again; from the depths of the earth." (Ps. 71:20). 



May we be joined together in our prayers, especially this week, remembering the words of the One who raises life from death,

"Again I say to you, if two of you agree on earth about anything they ask, it will be done for them by my Father in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I among them." (Matthew 18:19-20). 



Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Starting With Truth

Dear Faith Family,   

"For recognizing and resisting the stream of the world's ways there are two biblical designations for people of faith that are extremely useful: disciple and pilgrim." (Eugene Peterson) 



Known as "The Psalms of Ascent," God's people sang psalms 120-134 as they made their regular return to "the mountain of the house of the LORD" (Isaiah 2:2) for the feasts of Passover, Pentecost, and Booths. Three times a year they made the pilgrimage from the places where they made their lives, to the place of Life itself, to be reminded of and celebrate God's actions on their behalf so that in their return, they "may walk in his paths...in the light of the LORD" (Isaiah 2:3,5) as distinctly God's people in the ordinary roles and responsbilities of life. 

It was these fifteen prayers that the scattered community, gathered together on the pilgrim road, would sing that situated all aspects of their daily lives into "his ways" (Isaiah 2:3). Their inner lives and outward experiences, the whole of their lived experience, were securely and transformatively grounded in the stories and place of faith, hope, and love where the festivals settled them. These songs drew them toward the top of the mountain, the house of the LORD, while also connecting the promises, provision, and presence of God to their daily life. 

It is within this tradition as we discussed a couple of Sundays ago, that we are contemplating, praying, singing, and conversing about a Psalm of Ascent (or two) each week as we make our rhythmic pilgrimage through our daily lives to a place to be reminded of and celebrate God's actions on our behalf each Sunday. A pilgrimage we began this past Sunday. 

The first two "travel songs" of our summer challenge compel us to consider our relationship to truth, the truth of how our apprenticed pilgrimage begins and persists. 

"In my distress I called to the LORD, and he answered me. Deliver me, O LORD, from lying lips, from a deceitful tongue." (120:1-2) 

"I lift my eyes to the hills. From where does my help come from? My help comes from the LORD, who made heaven and earth." (121:1-2) 


Psalm 120 describes the emotional state from which a life as apprenticed pilgrims begins. All of the beginnings of our faith (whether at first or each day) are the result of complementary emotions: a dissatisfaction with the lies spoken to us and the lies we speak, and a desire for something true. Our faith has a word to describe the reaction from these mixed emotions: REPENTANCE. 

The first of our psalms, as we discussed on Sunday, compels us to consider what lies about life, about how we are to live a good life, do we listen to and perpetuate? And, as we ponder the question and feel the distress of dissatisfaction and desire, we turn and grab hold of the One who is already turned toward us. This is how our pilgrimage began in the first place, and how we return to "his paths" along the way. 

Psalm 121 reminds us that there is no more proficient ender to the apprentice pilgrim's journey than unmet expectations. If we expect that the pilgrim road is easy (requiring little effort or presuming our efforts will always succeed), or that trouble and setbacks are indicators of a wrong direction (or, more sinisterly, God's wrath), or that doubt was left at the starting line, then, when we: trip over an obstacle and loose our footing (vs. 3), are drained of energy by exposure to the elements (v. 4), or feel like lunatics for choosing such a discipled life ( v. 6); we will look for help in all the familiar places, among all the old lies, "to the hills" (v. 1). 

As we shared on Sunday, while atop the mountain, it may be easy to remember it is only the action of God that "keeps" us, yet on the pilgrim road, we tend to return to the products, programs, and people we can use to ensure that we keep to the right path. Yet, as Psalm 121 compels us to consider the truth of our journey, our finding the path in the first place and persisting along the way is not that we are keeping up with the right products, people, or programs, but that, in truth, WE ARE KEPT: 
 

"he who keeps you will not slumber…The LORD is your keeper…The LORD will keep you from all evil; he will keep your life. The LORD will keep your going out and coming in from this time forth and forevermore." (Psalm 121:3-8)


Our faith has a word to describe God's active guidance and care for our lives toward his good purposes: PROVIDENCE. And so, Psalm 121 compels us to consider: Do we recognize and rest in God's providence along the pilgrim road? Only when we recognize the truth of God's persistent actions on our behalf, even in the real struggles and stresses of daily living, will our souls be able to rest at the end of each day's travels. 

Repentance and Providence, turning from lies to truth and being kept by truth even when we instinctively return to the lies, are where Psalms 120-121 encourage us to situate the emotions and experiences of our daily lives on the pilgrim road. Psalms that, when prayed slowly and shared with others, help us live a long obedience in the same direction...which has made life worth living. 


Love you, faith family! God bless. 

A Summer Challenge

Dear Faith Family,   

"The essential thing 'in heaven and earth' is, it appears, that there should be a long obedience in the same direction; there thereby results, and has always resulted in the long run, something which has made life worth living." 



If you didn't know who authored the above quote, you might attribute the observation to a proverbial sage. Perhaps a person who spent their life in search of wisdom, and perhaps, with the mention of "heaven," a person of faith who has discovered the truth to a good life. Maybe you even attribute it to the author of the book, whose title is derived from the quote (see the image above)! 

What if I told you that, despite the apparent affirmation of a life of persistent faith in persevering hope, the quote was actually a condemnation of the very way of life that you and I see as fundamental. Indeed, Friedrich Nietzsche--the genuinely atheistic 'father of postmodernism'--wrote these words as a sarcastic slight to what he rightly saw as the annoyingly limiting (to him) essential mindset and mode of a faith which transforms a person and a people.

While Nietzsche's desire was to free humanity (at least some) from banal submission to things like morals, not to mention Spirit and scripture. Yet, the stories of our faith tell us that joyous freedom is found only in our reciprocated obedience.

"If you keep my commandments, you will abide in my love, just as I have kept my Father's commandments and abide in his love. These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may be in you, and that your joy may be full. This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you. Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends if you do what I command you." (John 15:10-14) 



To scorn (like Nietzsche) a vision of life lived in "long obedience in the same direction" or circumvent it in the pursuit of the "immediate and the casual", which is the pervading pressure in our current times, does not merely put us at risk of missing out on "a life worth living," it puts us at odds with the very faith we desire to live by. So, what are we to do?

How do we ensure or recover the essential mindset and mode of a faith that transforms both ourselves and the world we inhabit? 

There are many things I appreciate about Eugene Peterson, including his ability to take what is meant to be a critique of our faith and turn it into an exhortation to faith. This is what Peterson does in his book "A Long Obedience In The Same Direction," specifically, by encouraging us to live into the essential mindset and mode of our faith as apprenticed pilgrims. 

Of course, as we discussed on Sunday, Peterson's vision of a life of faith being in a "growing-learning relationship" with Jesus, even as we are "going someplace" with Jesus, is not unique to him, but rather grounded in the scriptures and traditions which ground us. It is these scriptures and traditions, along with the mindset and mode they cultivate in us, that I invite you to explore this summer. 

Whatever your summer plans or schedule, I challenge you to do two things: 

  • Join us in regular contemplative reading of particular Psalms, Gospel stories, and Peterson. Slow, prayerful, and repeated reading sets the pace (no pun intended!) for our practices. Here is a reading schedule to keep us in step with our fellow apprenticed pilgrims. 

  • Join us in weekly conversation with communion at our Sunday Gatherings. The life worth living both requires and leads us into regular time with fellow apprenticed pilgrims. And this summer, especially, our Gathering will be a time for us to help one another understand and enter the essential mindset and mode of our faith. 


So, are you up for a summer challenge? I hope so! And pray that we'll come to know the truth and joy of a long obedience in the same direction...that always results in...something which has made life worth living.

Love you, faith family! God bless. 

"What Am I Doing With My Life?"

Dear Faith Family,   

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.
What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing."
(Annie Dillard) 


We have all felt the weight and truth of Dillard's observation, haven't we? Whether amid the grind of the mundane, overwhelmed by expectations, or in those too-quiet moments, we've all been hit with the question: "What am I doing with my life?" And, as much as we look to adapted visions of the past or aspirations for the future to validate our living, we know deep down that real life is actualized neither in the past nor future, but in these days, in this hour. 

There is a reason our faith heritage encourages us to examine our lives in compressed frames of a week or a day, rather than via drawn-out and yet-to-be eras. If a life cannot be measured until it has reached its end, then our life is not the sum of our past, for we are continuing to add to the sum these days and this hour. Likewise, our life is not a future aspiration, but rather what we are doing with our potential these days and at this hour.

Which, makes Dillard's words an exhortation to exercise agency in the work of living. 

Agency, whether individually or collectively, is the power people have to think for themselves and act in ways that shape their experiences and trajectories. As we've said, agency in the work of living is something humans are given "In the beginning," and so, "enhanced" in our new beginnings in life with Jesus. So, where does Dillard encourage us to exercise our agency in the work of living? Her answer will dazzle even as it makes us say "duh!" 

"How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives. What we do with this hour, and that one, is what we are doing. A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time. A schedule is a mock-up of reason and order...a peace and a haven set into the wreck of time; it is a lifeboat on which you find yourself, decades later, still living." (Annie Dillard) 



If how we spend our days is how we spend our life, then we should use the agency we've been given to shape these days and this hour. And how do we frame our hours? With a schedule, of course!

While the exhortation is simple, what Dillard is encouraging, as we discussed on Sunday, is not merely to use a planner, but rather, to live by a "Rule of Work." 

"Rule" comes from the Latin word regula, which is associated with a trellis, the woodwork or scaffolding on which a plant matures to maximize both fruitfulness and beauty. A "rule" is a set of habits we commit to that form our schedules. Habits like those espoused by Cal Newport in his book on working with agency for fullness of life: 

  1. Do fewer things.

  2. Work at a natural pace.

  3. Obsess over quality.


Habits, when entwined with The Basic Rule, give us a "Rule of Working From The Soul," a way of working that we can love. Imagine that, that there were a way to do the work of living that was made up of hours that sustain rather than stress, of days that deliver rather than destroy, of time that delights rather than degrades!  

Of course, a "rule" won't take away all the difficulties of living, but it can provide a way to stay afloat rather than be drowned by them. If any of this resonates with you--doing work in a way you can love with your soul and exercising your agency in the work of living--let me invite you to do three things over the summer: 

  • In Community (with your GC or with other friends of faith), put together your scaffolding, write a "Rule of Life" in which faith and work are intertwined. 



If you have questions or need help anywhere along the way, don't hesitate to extend me an invitation to join you! 

Through our efforts of faith, may we find in the mundane, amid the mass of expectations, and in the moments of quiet that indeed we are spending our lives, 

"... work[ing] heartily (from the soul), as for the Lord and not for humanity, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the reward of the inheritance." (Colossians 3:23-24a)



Love you, faith family! God bless. 

There Is More To It Than That

Dear Faith Family,   

Oh! Teach us to live well! Teach us to live wisely and well!
Let your work be shown to your servants
and your glorious power to their children. (Psalm 90:12, 16)


Our faith makes two presumptions about daily life. One, that there is indeed a way to live well and wisely; and not. Two, that we learn this way through curious observation and humble imitation within the bounds of a gracious Love. 

Generally, and rightly, we think of this observation and imitation in relation to Christ Jesus. After all, he did say, "Go and make disciples of all nations...teaching them to observe all that I have commanded (Matt. 28:19-20) and "This is my commandment, that you love one another as I have loved you" (John 15:12). Unfortunately, however, we also tend to limit the application of our observations and imitations to the realms of religious practices and attitudes.

Whatever Jesus shows us about how to live has to do with only a part of our life (even if a significant part); i.e., our relationship to God and how we view others. Whatever implications that might have for the other parts of life (i.e., our responsibilities in the home and community, our vocations, our labor, our leisure, and the like) are a product of osmosis, a gradual equalizing of our attitudes and affections in these places with the attitudes of our faith. 

Yet, is that all that there is to a living well and wisely: to have the right attitude and affections in our daily living?  

Certainly, a life lived well and wisely does require properly ordered attitudes and affections, which the life of Jesus allows us to observe and imitate. Yet, we said, Jesus' work fundamentally changes all of life, not just our hearts, but also our hands and our heads. The death, resurrection, and ascension of Jesus restores our full humanity. A restoration that devotes our hearts, minds, and agency together, towards a singular, yet marvelously myriad purpose: the fullness (maturation or fulfillment) of all created life. A restoration that takes us back to the beginning, as one scholar and priest reminds us:

“Let us then remind ourselves of the starting point. The created order, which God has begun to redeem in the resurrection of Jesus, is a world in which heaven and earth are designed not to be separated but to come together. In that coming together, ‘the very good’ that God spoke over creation at the beginning will be enhanced, not abolished…taken up into God’s larger purposes, no doubt, but certainly not abandoned.” (N.T. Wright) 



As we discussed on Sunday, the opening chapters of life's beginnings tell a story of humanity observing creation to learn its essential nature and worth and how to keep and work it by imitating (reflecting) its Creator so that all that the Creator desired might come to fruition through the hands and mind of His beloved image bearers (Gen. 2:4-19). Because we are restored to right relationship with God through Jesus, we are able to do the work for which we are made. 

"Our office and our delight are to look at the world in all the distinctive ways that humans can, so that in communion with us it can come to fruition." (Spencer Klavan) 



In communion with Christ, we observe how God has made things and people to flourish, we see the dignity and necessity of what has been made, and we act in ways that draw out that rightness(eousness) and draw them into it, so that we might make a life of perfection (teleios, purpose). That too, is what we learn as we observe and intimate the life of Christ, our life with Christ (Eph. 2:4-10). 

The beauty and wonder of this purpose, of the work of making life complete, is that it can be done regardless of our vocation or field, whether our work takes place mostly in a home or an office, whether we work primarily with our minds or our hands, or whether we work for others or others work of us.

Imagine the life you can make and live if you devote each day to curious observation and humble imitation in the places and labors of work. After all, this is what you are (re)made for. 


Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Held Together

Dear Faith Family,   


What keeps life from falling apart? Daily, what keeps our mistakes, missteps, and inattentive actions from unraveling all that is good? Historically, what provides stability amid the myriad of choices made, whose consequences we could not foresee, and the vast array of circumstances we could not control? 

It isn't easy to look back over a day and not see that some-thing more than our best efforts has kept things together. It's next to impossible to examine a life and not see that our persistent existence has been bound, held together, by some-thing. 

While this "some-thing" has had a variety of monikers over the millennia - a fate or force, our destiny, or pure energy -  our faith knows this thing's name: Christ Jesus.

"And Christ is before all things, and in him all things hold together." (Colossians 1:17)

The apostle Paul's proclamation is not merely an affirmation of our faith's primary assertion for those who adhere to it, as if it is only reality for those who choose to believe. Paul is describing a reality that is cosmologically and ontologically true, as well as religiously so. Listen to his words leading up: 

"For by means of Christ all things were created, in heaven and on earth, visible and invisible, whether thrones or dominions or rulers or authorities - all things were created through him and for him." (Colossians 1:16)


Every-thing that makes up the universe, including our place and our persons, exists from him, has its beginnings in him, and has its nature from or for him. All the material that forms what our eyes can see - from fleshly bodies to celestial bodies and all that is between and below - and all that is immaterial that forms all the things we cannot see - from electromagnetic fields to souls and a whole host more - are kept in persevering harmony by him. 

How does this "some-thing" we know as Christ Jesus hold all of our living together, all that is visible and invisible that is us? How does Jesus harmonize our days and history with our beginnings and nature? What is that "thing" that supports our existence, reality? In a word: Love. What else do you call the work of Christ Jesus? 

"For in Christ all the fullness of God was pleased to dwell, and through him to reconcile to himself ("properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies") all things, whether on earth or in heaven, making peace by the blood of his cross." (Colossians 1:19-20)



What if we entered our days attentive and submitting to this "thing" that holds life together, to Love Himself? Would our labors and our leisure be different, essentially and practically? 

The witness of our faith over millennia is that they are and can be, as we were reminded on Sunday, when we let reality get into our lungs and bloodstream. So, take a few minutes to do just that! 

With each deep breath, give name to what is real, to what is true, allowing your body and soul to "rest in the Cross," from which your life and mine are bound together. 

  • Breath In: "I am made…" Breath Out: "…through Him."

  • Breath In: "I am made…" Breath Our: "…for Him."

  • Breath In: "I am held together…" Breath Out: "…in His love."


Repeat the "breathing prayer" three times, then go about your day different, and bound. 

Love you, faith family. God bless. 

Fundamentally Different

Dear Faith Family,   


Jesus' death and resurrection -- God-In-Flesh, dying upon the apparatus designated for traitors and slaves, and alive again three days later -- truly revolutionized the world. 

Christians believe this to be theologically true and doctrinally accurate as a spiritual reality. The world of God and the world of humanity, or at least God and human beings' spirits or souls, reconciled. But what if Jesus' work not only made a way for the salvation of our souls, but also revolutionized all the other facets of what it means to be human, saving us wholly. 

Secular historians like the late Rodney Stark and Thomas Cahill, and more recently Tom Holland, argue that the world is evidentially and fundamentally different after the death and resurrection of Jesus. What changed? These historians and others contend that the world after Jesus began to become more humane. 

Not instantly and not perfectly, but by both measurement and virtue, in practice and in ideal; the world we inhabit today is radically different than the world two thousand plus years ago. Those truths "we hold to be self-evident" and the values we take for granted as "unalienable rights" were in the millennia before Christ, neither obvious to human civilizations nor impossible to take away. For instance, Aristotle argued that some people were to rule and others to be ruled, which is a far cry from "all men are created equal." What are for us presumed universals, like the dignity of every life and the right to pursue a good life, were but underrealized aspirations of a landless and relatively obscure people before the cross and resurrection. 

After the cross and resurrection, fundamentally, the world changed as people of every tribe, tongue, and nation began to be drawn to the One who died and rose, and began to shape their lives together on His life with us. From the first century into the early Enlightenment, at least in the Western world, the revolution of God-With-Us, dead and alive for us, reshaped the very fabric of society.

Only in the late 1800s, when we put God to death again -- in the words of Nietzsche, "God is dead, and we killed him," -- did the humaneness of life become replaced with the productiveness of life (once again). It is this productivity, this view of humanity as obstacles or objects of use, which Easter raises us to revolt against. A revolution that starts, as we'll see over the next few weeks, by resurrecting the rhythm of Sabbath and work. 

To help us better recognize the revolution we are caught up in and pray ourselves into it, I've reproduced an email I sent a few years ago below. While the information may not be new, it is still needed. So I encourage you to keep reading! 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________

Our family enjoys Disney World; that's no secret. Due largely to Deedra's savvy planning, we have had several opportunities to spend time as a family immersed in a world of stories and thrill rides. Inevitably, we find ourselves wandering the park waiting for our next adventure but needing some cool place to slow down, and that's when we make our way to Walt's Carousel of Progress.

The "ride" is a slowly rotating theater with audio-animatronics on the stage showing a family's "progress" from the first days of electricity into the future of a technological utopia. The attraction was the central feature of the 1964 New York World's Fair, and while its tech is dated (and its song annoyingly sticky!), the vision for humanity it foretells is sadly accurate. In Walt's eyes, humanity is advanced the further it is removed from the daily tasks of living. The more machines can do for us, the less we have to do for ourselves. And the assumption in the "progressing" theater is the better we are for it all. 

What Walt saw way back then is what most of the modern, especially our Western world, has arrived at. Like Disney's carousel, we go around and around under the assumption that what makes life better is working less, rather than good work done well. 

Maybe because in the cultivation of life, all those responsibilities, roles, and relationships that require our daily efforts are entangled with thistles and thorns, we wrestle to work less. Maybe because leisure is marketed as a luxury and luxury is for the elite, we long for less labor. Maybe because we don't see the value of our daily efforts, unable to imagine our daily grind as a part of something more than surviving, we save our hearts for something else. Maybe because we don't rhythmically cease striving for life with God, we strive for the god-like disconnection from the efforts to live, to be human (though admittedly, that is unlike the God we know in Jesus). 

Contrary to Walt and our cultural perception and (if we're honest) our feelings toward it, work is not something that we overcome, but the means for overcoming, the way of living with God in partnership with His "deep design." Work is cultivating good in life that God has made, and doing so amid the seeming chaos that surrounds (see Gen. 2:5-15). If work was anything less, could the apostle Paul, with integrity to his calling as 'a servant of Christ Jesus...set apart for the gospel of God,' say to wives and husbands, children and parents, servants and masters, 

Whatever you do, work from the soul as for the Lord and not for mankind, knowing that from the Lord you will receive the inheritance as your reward. You are serving the Lord Christ.
(Colossians 3:23-24)


Our goal is not to get through work, get out of work, or work less, but to experience the wholeness of being (re)made to work in Jesus. For to be human is to work with God. And doing that for which we are fashioned, well, from the essence of our being. To that end, I invite you to pray with me (and for one another). 

Father, help us live into the gift of your beautiful, never-ending grace.

Holy Spirit, help us see that in you we are enough,
formed and fashioned in your good design for your good destiny.
Wonderful is your work; may our souls know it very well! 

May our work be a beautiful, generous offering of love to you, Father.

May it spill over to the people and the world you made.
May we flourish in our work,
because we are always resting
in the finished work of Jesus and His ever-presence.
Amen. 



Love you, faith family! God bless.

Raised to A Revolution

Dear Faith Family,   


Last week, we were invited to "not disbelieve, but believe." Believe that all the adversaries of our souls (within and without) have been destroyed by the finished work of Jesus on the cross. Believe that we are not alone, not meant just to figure it out, not left to wander through our days, but shown, taught, and guided into God's good design and destiny by Jesus alive again and forever. 

What could life be if we believed? We asked that question, hoping to spark our imagination for life after Easter. It is the question that will set the course for our Gathered times during this next season. But where do we start?

Well, as Psalm 92 reminds us, we begin where God has finished, ceased, sabbathed. 

A Psalm. A Song for the Sabbath
It is good to give thanks to LORD...

For you, O LORD, have made me glad by your work...

Your designs are very deep!...

My eyes have seen the downfall of my enemies,
my ears have heard the doom of my assailants.
(Psalm 92:1,4-5,11) 

Life after Easter begins where all life began: resting with God in God's finished work.

And on the seventh day God finished his work that he had done, and he rested...So God blessed the seventh day and made it holy... (Genesis 2:2-3)

When Jesus had received the sour wine, he said, 'It is finished,' and he bowed his head and gave up his spirit. (John 19:30)


As it was in Genesis, so it is again in Jesus.

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. (Genesis 1:1) 

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God...And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us... (John 1:1, 14) 



After God works, we rest with Him before we work with Him.

The LORD God took the man and put him in the garden of Eden to work it and keep it. (Genesis 2:15) 

...Jesus showed them his hands and his side...[and] said to them, 'Peace be with you. As the Father has sent me, even so I am sending you.' (John 20:20-21) 



It's (re)entering this "deep design," this whole and holy rhythm of Sabbathing to work, working into Sabbath, that allows us to live wisely, courageously, competently, and with peace. Imagine that! 

Seriously, imagine if you could distinguish between what is temporal and what is eternal in your daily duties, dialogues, and disagreements. Imagine being free from the fear that binds you in your relationships and responsibilities. Imagine being crafted and commissioned to handle your circumstances and career. Imagine if you were perfectly planted in God's court, his dwelling place now and forever. 

Psalm 92, as we shared on Sunday, invites us to stop rebelling against God's good design and get into this revolutionary rhythm.

I invite you, faith family, to let the Spirit lead you into praying from a place of Sabbath into your places of work this week as an act of revolution.  

Love you, faith family! God bless.