Four Words

I've started to write this multiple times.  I've stopped and started, and found myself repeating much of what has already been said over the past week and 81 days.  I thought about including pictures of faces and events, but you can see those at other places.  To protect myself from slipping into "Captain Obvious" mode, I'm keeping this simple, without being simplistic or trite. 

It's been a tough spring.  It's been a terrible week.  It's been a horrific weekend.  We're all trying to figure how to respond to what is happening around us.  I'm sitting in my office alone again, having sheltered in place for 12 weeks, working at home for 8 of them.  I want to talk with someone maybe more today than at any time over the past 81 days.  What do we do?   What do I do?

Well, I start by reading and listening, and I'm doing a lot of that.  I started reading Uncle Tom's Cabin for the first time.  True confession, thought it was time.  I also thought it was time to begin reading Oscar Romero's book, The Violence of Love.  I read an article this morning calling out social media sites and corporations like Facebook and Nike stating; "They need to to more!"  Don't think I can abdicate my responsibility by pointing fingers at them, just too easy to do.

I saw a tweet last week by Katie Couric, who I'm sure meant well, asking for a statements from Presidents Obama and Bush to help us navigate this cultural moment.  I have a lot of respect for both of these men and the way they responded to crises during their times of presidency.  They both seem to be great husbands, fathers, and leaders.  But I don't know them, will never meet them, and if I can be candid with you, don't need to hear from them.  What I need to do isn't mandated from the White House or my Twitter feed.  Our government and social media can't, and won't provide the answer.

I've pivoted.  I can't look at this issue as purely a macro issue.  There is nothing I can do to change the world.  I'm changing my perspective, looking at this from the micro level; the ways this is affecting the community I live in, the people I know, and the place where I work.  To use a phrase I've said before, we observe what is happening globally, while we think and act locally.  So here is my response to you.  This is my response, mine to do.  Not the university's where I'm employed.  Not Student Development or the Office of Spiritual Development.  This is my response to you in four words; you matter to me.

If you were expecting more, that's it:  You matter to me.

Cynthia, you matter to me.  Charles, you matter to me.  Jackie, you matter to me.  Kimberly, you matter to me.  Lauren, Kwame, Allison, Kennedy and Eric; you matter to me. McKenzie, Emma, TK, Brian, Drea, Lily, Hannah, Shania, Janelle, Shemara, Tiara, Ari and Byshop.  You matter to me.  Somer, Ashley, Natalie, Zanna, Jordan, Brooke, Lance and Kaleb.  Miranda, Amir, Karina, Lizzy, Jonathan, Skylar, Keek, Katie, Cami, Jason, Kayla, Kelly, Jackson and Abi.  Sam, Nimmy, Weston, Phillip, Noelle, Rico, Justin, Kelli, Anna, CJ, Lamont, Rachel, Maya, Anna and Britney.  You know I had to stop somewhere, so please feel free to place your name here if it isn't already because you matter to me.

I want you to know, in the cultural moment we find ourselves in with all it's hashtags, one that we can't change or deflect, but must own as our moment, I want those I come in contact with today to know how much they matter to me.  And yes, I'm going to be intentional about telling my black and African American friends and neighbors.  I'll take on whatever criticism you throw my way because of that statement, I'm okay with it.  The little I will face won't compare to what others have faced this week, the last 40, 140, or 400 years, however you want to count them.

I can't worry about anyone else, this is mine to do.  The only thing I wish I could change, is I wish I could tell you in person how much you matter to me.  This is written looking forward to the day I can.  For now, it's time to get busy.  There are some things I need to do today.  And until we meet again, I want you to know this; you matter to me.  Oh, and we have work to do when we are back together this Fall.

Galatians 1:10:  "Am I now seeking human approval, or God's approval?  Or am I trying to please people?  If I were trying to please people, I would not be a servant of Christ."

Showing Up

John 20:24-29

During my junior year of college, my high school had been making a run in the boys’ state basketball tournament. After winning their quarterfinal game on a Wednesday, they were playing in the semi-finals on Friday. I had made the decision that if they won, I would skip my Friday classes and meet my family in Ann Arbor, MI. This was something I didn’t want to miss. I had to be there. I had to show up.

Showing up. Sometimes we do it out of love for something or someone; like basketball and my former high school. That weekend in March 1980, I didn’t want to just listen to the games. I wanted to experience them for myself. Hearing about something is different than being there. So, I showed up.

Sometimes we show up out of obligation. We have to be there, so we are. Maybe we show up because our friends are there (wouldn’t that be nice). Maybe it’s something we’ve always done. Even though we don’t know why anymore, we show up anyway. Always done this, so here we are again. Or maybe there just isn’t anything better for us to do. No place better for us to be.

I wonder if that’s how Thomas the Apostle felt, when he showed up. The one labeled the doubter, he isn’t given the credit he deserves for hanging around. He didn’t believe what the disciples told him after they had seen Jesus. In fact, he said, “Unless I stick my hand in his side and my fingers in his hand, I will not believe!” But for some reason while not believing, Thomas showed up anyway.

Why? I wonder if deep down they were remembering, wondering, and hoping against fear and despair. I’m not surprised Jesus showed up; Jesus always does. I’m not surprised Jesus came to where they were; Jesus always does that too. Jesus always shows up. I’m not surprised by that at all. What I am surprised by, is that the Apostles did. Their dreams had been crushed as they watched Jesus die. Hope was gone. So why were they hiding together in the room? Did they think they were next? And if they did, why didn’t they just go home? Why didn’t they go back to work?  What are they doing now?

I wonder? Maybe they were remembering; remembering how Jesus showed up for the man born blind after he was kicked out of the synagogue. Remembering how Jesus showed up, eventually, for Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. Remembering how Jesus showed up; cleansing the temple, reclaiming the worship space for the Gentile, the unclean, the outsider. Remembering what had taken place for the last three years and wondering in hope, if Jesus would show up one more time. So, they showed up, hoping Jesus would show up again, too. Hiding in homes to protect themselves from what was “out there.”  Afraid for their safety. Wondering if they were going to be next, if Jesus would show up here too, maybe even today. And we all know what the answer to their wondering was.

And if Jesus showed up for them, He will for us, too. As we hang out behind closed doors, protecting ourselves from what is “out there,” wondering when this will end, if Jesus will show up for us, I think we can listen with hope to what John is saying. This letter was written during a time that the church was still hiding, being beaten, imprisoned, and even murdered for their faith. Not much had changed the first 40 years for the church, and John is reminding them, as he is us, that as we hang out, just like Jesus showed up for them, Jesus will show up for us too. It might not look like it did for Mary, or Peter, or John, or Thomas.  It might feel like fear and despair now, but in hope we believe, as they did, that Jesus will show up for us, when we need it, right on time, answering our questions right when we need them answered.

Making the Journey: Got Bread?

Making the Journey: Got Bread?: Got Bread? John 13:21-35 My dad was a pastor.  He pastored medium size churches, rarely ever larger than 250.  We gathered 3 times e...

Got Bread?

Got Bread?

John 13:21-35

My dad was a pastor.  He pastored medium size churches, rarely ever larger than 250.  We gathered 3 times each week; Sunday morning, evening, and Wednesday night.  My dad’s churches, because of their size, were close and intimate.  That brought along with it some really good days, and some really tough days.  There were not many secrets in our church, because there was nowhere to hide.  The best way to hide was to stop coming, but if you stopped coming that only served as a sign that something was wrong.  So there really was no hiding.

My dad loved rituals.  He was experiential before that was cool.  One he loved repeating was what is referred to as a “love feast”.  Unannounced, we would show up for church on Sunday evening and find a loaf of bread on the communion table waiting for us.  You could hear some audibly moan, understanding its significance.  When we showed up, seeing that loaf of bread, it was a call back to living in the way of Jesus shaped by his behavior in John 13.

After Jesus washed the disciple’s feet, he began to share the Passover meal with them.  We celebrate this differently as Jesus redefined the bread and cup; replacing the Jewish Seder with another meal, Communion.  But something else was going on.  After they ate Jesus tells them that one from the inner circle was going to betray him.  No one knew what he meant, except Judas.  But before Judas left the room, Jesus made a gracious gesture.  Its why no one tackled him when Jesus dismissed him to, “do quickly what you are going to do”.  He gave him a piece of bread.     

This is laced with symbolism and easy for us to miss, but not them.  When a Jew breaks bread, it’s a pledge of friendship.  It literally means that even if I have to die, I will not betray our friendship.  Wow.  Jesus says this to Judas.  Judas!  The same one John opens the curtain to earlier in his gospel as Judas calls Mary’s anointing of Jesus wasteful, declaring Judas didn’t say this because he cared about the poor, but was a thief? (John 12:6)  Jesus forgives Judas.  Let that sink in for a second.  And Judas knew what Jesus is saying as he handed him that piece of bread, as well as everyone in the room.  Then he left, and followed through with the betrayal anyway. 

Jesus didn’t wait for the cross to forgive, but is giving us a glimpse into what was about to happen in their near future, and our present – forgiving the betrayer. Forgiving the one who offends, sins against, even considered the enemy.  But he wasn’t the only one, was he?

Peter is forgiven.  Thomas is forgiven.  Matthew is forgiven.  Judas is forgiven.  But the best news in this is, so am I.  So are you.  So are we.  As Paul expressed, he was the chief of sinners, that’s a long line we can stand in.  But that isn’t enough.  After Judas left, Jesus went on to say:

“Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another.  By this act, everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”

So when we walked into church on a given Sunday evening, seeing a loaf of bread on the communion table reminded us of Judas, how Jesus forgave him, telling us to forgive each other.  This wouldn’t be bread extended from Jesus to us; it was bread extended from us to each other.  “By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”  The one we had offended, or worse, the one who had offended us.  It was the call to seek those out that we needed to be reconciled with.  It was “leaving our gift at the altar, and after being reconciled to our brother or sister, coming back to the altar to present our gift”.  It wasn’t easy, but it was what Jesus had done for us, and what he instructed us to do for each other.  It was, and still is, the way of Jesus and his people.  It was, and still is, the way we witness to the world Jesus love for us and ours for each other.

So we broke and shared bread, cried, apologized, and often ended praying around the altar together.  As difficult as was, it was the right thing to do.  It was always good.  As difficult as living this way is, it is the right, the good, the only way to live.  Can you imagine the impact it had on the 10-year-olds in the room watching their parents who hadn’t talked with each other in a couple of weeks crying on each other’s shoulders, seeking forgiveness from one another while exchanging pieces of bread?  Well, so much so that I can still remember it vividly 50 years later. 

This is the way of Jesus.  This is what Friday is all about, and why it is “good”.  It’s shaped by love expressed on Friday, made possible by the hope displayed on Sunday. 

“Father forgive them, for they don’t know what they are doing.”

“By this everyone will know that you are my disciples.”

Got bread?     

Winter or Ice Age? Wrath or healing?

If you're like me, you've been reading posts about the apparent healing taking place in our ecosystems since the pandemic, or some would say because of it.  Pictures in Venice of clear water, with fish swimming and swans returning.  People are saying we have discovered the ecological problem, that humanity is the virus.

I'm not saying that humanity hasn't been abusive in the ways we have treated nature.  I'm sure there is some truth to what is being said.  But I think like everything else, it lands somewhere in there a middle?  

If I recall, bats from a market in Wuhan, China are given credit for this most recent virus.  Who eats bats, anyway?  And you can't ignore the inherent violence in nature, either.  The news may be lost to the pandemic, but there was a devastating tornado that ripped through Jonesboro, Arkansas just last week.  Nature can dole out it's own wrath from time to time, reminding us of the ways nature, our ecosystem, and all of creation groans for the day when all things will be made new.  We are included in that groaning.

I don't want to get lost in the weeds arguing whether ecosystems healing themselves, and the hows and whys.  I'll leave that up to the scientists.  This all does have me thinking about a question that is connected to the article I posted yesterday; is what we are facing wrath or healing?  Is it punishment or a blessing?

I've watched faith healers coming "against" COVID-19 like it's the devil incarnate.  I've heard people, the same ones who made claims about 9-11, saying this is God's wrath connected to everything from abortion to gay marriage.  Interesting no one says God's wrath is a result of capital punishment or treatment of immigrants and refugees, but I digress.  Trust me, God didn't have to create a pandemic to get our attention.  I don't believe that is consistent with who God is, anyway.  I don't believe this is wrath we can lay at God's feet; I believe it is life. With that being said, for those of us living in the way of Jesus, it provides us with an opportunity.

I read another tweet last week that was more hopeful from Jamie Tworkowski:  It said in the midst of this pandemic:  

Conversations will not be cancelled.

Relationships will not be cancelled.

Love will not be cancelled.

Songs will not be cancelled.

Reading will not be cancelled.

Self-care will not be cancelled.

Hope will not be cancelled.

May we lean into the good stuff that remains.

I know this is an incredibly difficult time for many.  I'm not trying to downplay that at all.  One of my friends just lost his father in New York to COVID-19.  Health care workers are serving the public under "war-like" conditions, and grocery store employees show up every day, with great risk, so I can get milk and bread.  Many walk around in fear wishing they could be like the bubble boy from Seinfeld.  But I think there is another way to approach this cultural moment.  I'm wondering if it might be better to look for what we're being given instead of what has been taken away.  

Rest.  A slower pace to life.  No one is running from soccer to dance to baseball, through the McDonald's drive-thru, and on to the next thing.  My calendar is empty.  I have "tasks", but I don't have events.  Our lives are usually one event after another, and they lives have slowed down, for some, shut down.  

Family.  I've connected with my family more in the last three weeks than maybe in the last three years because of Zoom, Marco Polo, and Facetime.  I've also had another first, leading my wife, daughters, and their families in Sunday morning worship.  We have even created a liturgy for us; singing a song together, reading a Bible story to the kids, and using the lectionary for the adults.  We are connecting every day, because we can.

Time.  Instead of wishing we had time to spend together, we have lots of time around each other.  Terry and I are together all day, each day eating around our dining room table, twice, often three times.  That hasn't happened in years, maybe ever.  We have time to go for walks; to play cards; watch Netflix, The Curse of Oak Island, and Building Off the Grid.  This has been good, a gift, one I'm not sure how we'll leave behind when we are on the other side of this.  

Solitude.  I know what you're thinking, Holcomb's an introvert, and we don't have kids at home.  I get that, but for the record, introverts like people, need people.  But this has given me the time to study, to read, to think, and to pray.  To think about you, what you need, how I can pray for you.  This hasn't made the TV more more desirable, but less.  My screen time went up the first week, but has gone down the last two.  I'm more engaged with the people and things around me.  I could check out, but I've been reading like I have read since my Sabbatical last year.   

People.  I look people in the eyes.  I talk with them.  Many are afraid, and I don't want to give them reason to be more afraid, but want to be kind.  To treat people like I would want to be treated.  I've found myself wondering if someone from my family was dying, would I stay away, letting them die alone?  What would you do?  I value people, relationships, and human touch more than ever.

Today.  I'm reminding myself to enjoy today.  God has given me the gift of presence, in this moment, today.  So, with God's help, I'll make the most of it.

There is far less running, and way more sitting.  I walk to the mailbox and feel like I've escaped.  I sit on my front stoop watching the birds in our feeder and the geese landing in our pond and feel renewed.  It doesn't take much, does it?  Today, I'm reminded to look for the blessing and the healing in the time that we have been given.  I think this is more than just a blizzard, and hope it isn't an ice age.  But whatever it is, and wherever we find ourselves, I'm looking for the signs of life today, hoping and praying the best for our tomorrows.  

So simply put, I hope nature is healing, being renewed during this pandemic.  But I hope and pray the same for us.

Blizzard, Winter, or Ice Age?

I think you will find this article informative, fascinating, and sobering.  Thanks to Andy Crouch for being candid and transparent in helping us navigate this cultural moment
.

https://journal.praxislabs.org/leading-beyond-the-blizzard-why-every-organization-is-now-a-startup-b7f32fb278ff

Dirt and Spittle

John 9:6-7

“You can’t depend on your eyes when your imagination is out of focus.”

Mark Twain

Terry and I have become fascinated with a new craze; building homes out of shipping containers.  There are shows popping up on cable channels like HGTV and DIY showing how people can build livable spaces, very inexpensively, out of old shipping containers. It’s very creative, and we are beginning to imagine the day when we have a home made from old shipping containers.

Most come from China, where we import everything from iPhones to the cheap toys found in your happy meals. Once they arrive, China doesn’t want them back, so we’ve begun to assemble shipping container graveyards. There is one here in Bradley. Ten years ago, no one would have thought about using a shipping container to build a home. Until one day, someone sat in an office looking at the growing stack of shipping containers, and began to wonder what in the world are we are going to do with all these square, metal tubes. Shazaam – container homes. 

Why mention this? Because this creativity is implanted in us by the God who is creative. The God who makes something out of nothing. The God who looks around, and as N.T. Wright describes; “uses the raw materials of earth to create something brand new that will restore and redeem the chaos we find ourselves in.” Using what is around us to make something brand new.  

Ken Wytsma in his book Create vs. Copy says: “If creativity is part of the image of God in us, imagination is the divine spark that unleashes it.” I’ve seen examples of this all over the last couple of weeks in our country, and at home.  The faculty from colleges, universities, and teachers in elementary to high school have had to prepare to go fully online, and students all over the country have begun to experience online instruction for the first time. Videos are popping up all over social media platforms, including the one at the end of this post.  Don't you wish you would have invested in Zoom last month.  This site is being used in ways no one imagined last month, from virtual classrooms to meet-ups with friends, families, counseling sessions, and churches.  March Madness brackets have been created with no basketball, distilleries are making hand sanitizer and automobile plants are manufacturing ventilators. There are new things being created every day. These are being birthed out of the chaos we find ourselves in. But the ingenuity and creativity that is coming to live is creating things in brand new ways for our communities. Things that we didn’t need two months ago, and things we wouldn’t have imagined.

It’s the way we work because it’s the way God works. God isn’t afraid of the situation we find ourselves in. He isn’t surprised by the things that are happening around us. As a matter of fact, God enables us to look around and see what we can use to create something new out of the raw materials that are already here.  

It’s what Jesus did when healing the man born blind. He looked around, saw dirt, spat in it creating mud, rubbed it on the man’s eyes, and then instructed him to go wash in the pool of Siloam.  Jesus was creating something brand new out of what was already there. But the man wasn’t healed yet, was he? Because Jesus included the blind man in the healing process. He instructed him to go wash in the pool. It wasn’t until after the blind man washed his own eyes that he could see.  

Why didn’t Jesus just heal him? Because I think he wanted to include him in the healing process, just like he wants to include us in the process of restoring our community and world from the moment we find ourselves in.    

What will this look like on the other side? I’m repeating myself: I have no idea. I can tell you that God is looking at the raw materials that are already here, creating something brand new. And the best part of this is God includes us in the process. God can work alone, but like he included the servants at a wedding and the disciples at the feeding of the four and five thousand; he includes us too. If we can imagine shipping containers turned into homes, imagine what God can do with a little dirt and spittle.

So, look around today. Maybe the answer is in the dirt.

Grace and peace friends.

https://youtu.be/nDIJz6zzHNU

Promise

Words Matter

I watched the press conference this morning with Governor Cuomo, the governor of New York.  They are experiencing very difficult days.  There is a lot of finger pointing going on this morning between Mayor DeBlasio's office, the NBA, and the White House.  Apparently all the NBA players were able to get tested for COVID-19, when many others in the city of New York sit and wait.  Who's to blame?  Depends on who you ask.

And the beat goes on . . .

It was in the midst of this banter that Governor Cuomo spoke with calm, clarity, and decisiveness related to the decisions being made, and why.  It was refreshing to hear someone speak as honestly as possible, with clarity and calm in the midst of a difficult situation.  One of the last things he said in his press conference is we need to be careful with the words and phrases we are using, that we are understood because words matter.

Words matter. 

While trying to answer questions, we find out who we are.  There were two college students interviewed on South Beach in Miami, obviously not complying with the request for social distancing.  When asked why they were doing this, one replied; "It's my spring break!  If I get the Coronavirus, I get the Coronavirus, but it won't stop me from partying."  Another said; "We aren't going to sit around and let Coronavirus ruin our spring break."  Okay?!  I say we put them all on a cruise ship, taking them to their own private island and letting them figure it out on their own; maybe they'll hear what the rest of us are saying.  But I digress.  Words matter.  They put on display what is in our hearts.  Oops.

Words can take us any number of places.  We can choose to build each other up, showing care and concern during a crisis; or we can choose to tear each other down, with the only concern being for ourselves, what we want to say and do.  We can choose to create distance because of our differences, or close the gap choosing to focus on what we have in common.  I had a friend say to me yesterday this has leveled the playing field.  For all that might have divided us in the past, or the way we talk about our differences, this is reminding us all how human, fragile, and similar we are.  The words we use are powerful.

James says the tongue, though small, is as powerful as the rudder of a ship or a horses bit.  We can either put out fires (Governor Cuomo), or emblazon them (Millennial's on South Beach).  Paul’s words in Philippians 4 remind the church that tends to bicker over their differences instead of celebrate what unifies them, that we are to think different than the world does.  To think about what is true, honorable, just, pure, pleasing, commendable, excellent, praiseworthy; and to keep on thinking about these things because they shape what we do and say.  There is power in a word.

So today I’ve confessed for the ways my thoughts haven’t lined up with Paul’s instruction on how I should think.  I really don't want to send them to their own private island.  My heart is broken by the insensitivity coming from various corners of our world.  I really do care more than that, and want the words I use to reflect kindness, unity, what is true, good, right and beautiful.  The Spirit, through a press conference and the Word, encouraged me today, helped me to realize again the goodness in the midst of madness.  The power of our words, and the Word.  

Kindness is Never Risky

I've decided to breath new life into my blog, posting my thoughts from time to time.  This will be connected to my twitter account, expressing my feelings, not expressing the views or feelings of Olivet or anyone connected with Olivet.  This is not an official statement for our university, rather some of my thoughts as we navigate this difficult time together.  I will continue to write weekly Evos to our Olivet community, and participate in videos through the Life at Olivet Instagram account when appropriate, but what is here are my thoughts.  Thanks for reading, following along with me as we continue to redefine what normal is like for us moving forward.  Grace and peace.

"For we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, despicable, hating one another. But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared, he save us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit. The Spirit he poured out on us richly through Jesus Christ our Savior, so that, having been justified by his grace, we might become heirs according to the hope of eternal life.  The saying is sure.  i desire that you insist on these things, so that those who have come to believe in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works; these things are excellent and profitable to everyone."

Titus 3:4-8

There is a phrase that is shaping our community, nation, and world right now; social distancing.  It can feel more like isolation than distancing.  I'm sitting alone in my office, in a building usually noisy and full of students, empty and silent.  Distance and isolation are counter intuitive to what it means to live in the way of Jesus.  It is the opposite of the incarnation, I get it.  It doesn't feel right or even good, though in the time we find ourselves in, necessary.  So I've been processing what is right, good, and appropriate.

For the sake of our neighbor and the most vulnerable, we need to participate in social distancing.  Take care of yourself and those you love.  Stay home if you can.  When you do work, appropriately separate yourself from others.  Wash your hands.  Stay away from large gatherings.  Do what you can, what is appropriate.

Yesterday I was walking around our campus and ran into an old friend who was picking up his daughter to take her home.  His family had gathered Regan's things, and they were heading home for the summer.  It was eery, odd, weird.  I looked at Regan who was emotional asking her if I could give you a hug?  And we did.  I know it was risky, but I felt in that moment she needed a hug, that it was appropriate.  So we did.  Then her dad prayed for me, for us all, and they left.

I'm not hugging everyone I see.  It was what I felt appropriate in the moment.  But there are other ways to close the distance we practice that aren't as risky, yet just as appropriate.

I went to Meijer to get some essentials later in the day and I thanked the employee helping me check out.  I thanked her for coming to work during a time when risk is tremendously heightened for her.  As I thanked her, she started crying, thanking me for being kind to her.  She said it was rare these days.  I was reminded that kindness is never risky and always appropriate.

I told her I was sorry, and really grateful for the work she is doing for our community.  She said thank you, and I walked away.  Our encounter didn't last 30 seconds, but I can't shake the look in her eyes.  After that brief encounter, I was reminded of the power of a word, and how kindness matters.  As risky as the hug may have been, kindness is never risky.  It's always the right thing to do.

I'm wondering if in the midst of a very difficult time what could happen if we all practiced kindness.  In a time when hugs are risky and maybe not appropriate, kindness carries no risk, and is always appropriate.  It is the right way to live, shaped in the heart of Jesus passed on to us.  We can be kind because God through Jesus has been kind to us and it is the way Jesus is inviting us to live.

So absolutely, be smart.  Be wise.  Do what the authorities are telling us.  But along the way, don't forget to be kind.

Walk This Way

Before we were gifted the Bell West Campus, which includes the ROTC building and the land behind and beside it, Olivet ROTC cadets used to drill in the lawn just west of Ludwig. So, I had a front row seat to their drills. It began the first two weeks of every fall semester. There are some basics every cadet has to learn. How to stand; hear commands and respond appropriately; the proper way to salute; what to wear and how to wear it; and among other things, how to walk.

This may sound odd because as adult humans, they all knew how to walk, but also learned quickly they didn’t know how to walk properly – at least not the way the military requires. You don’t walk any way you choose, and there is only one way to learn; you practice and drill, over and over again until you get it right. You walk in straight lines, learn how to lift and place your step, learn pace, cadence, and how to turn. You don’t walk too fast, or to slow. And you do the same things over and over again not just until you get it right, but until it becomes second nature. In the military, there is a proper way to walk.

I love the imagery. They will spend hours learning how to walk and turn; lifting, spinning, keeping their balance by placing their feet just so. In the ROTC setting, cadets never learn how to walk alone either, there are always others in line learning with you. And there is always an instructor, someone who has learned the proper way to walk, teaching you. For those who are teaching the proper steps, they know them when they see them. If you aren’t walking properly, you keep walking, practicing, until you learn the right way. Once you learn, you still have to practice so you do it right. You can get sloppy in the way you walk, losing your balance, but the goal is that what you used to spend all your energy concentrating on, you have practiced so often it becomes second nature.  

If there is a proper way to walk in the military, there is also a proper way for people of faith to walk. And just like an ROTC officer recognizes it when they see it, so do we. They have a goal, and so do we. Jesus uses words like; “poor in spirit, mourners, meek, hungry and thirsty, merciful, pure in heart, peacemakers, even the persecuted because of God’s way.” 

Paul says we can recognize it in people of faith using words like:

“love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, generosity, faithfulness, gentleness, and self-control.”  Saying, “There is no law against such things.”  

Galatians 5:22-23

He describes this like clothing, saying we wear: compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, patience,forgiveness, and we are grateful, peace makers, and above all else,loving.”

Colossians 3:12-15

These are the fruit, as Jesus and Paul describe them. If this is what we look like, how do you get there? Well, you practice a specific way of walking, a specific way of life.

That is what we will talk about this semester in chapel. Once we have accepted the invitation to walk in the way of Jesus, we submit ourselves to the one who has already walked before us, and now walks with us. We don’t set the agenda, the cadence or step, if I may. So, where do we begin? How do we learn to walk? Here are a few suggestions to get us started.   

1. Read the Bible daily together, listening for the way this will shape us and our community.  Maybe you’ve never done this before, or this is already a daily practice. Wherever you fall, it is never too late to jump! If you have a way of reading, please, stick to what works for you. This isn’t meant to be legalistic, but formative. If you miss a day, skip it. Jump right back in with the next day. The passages will be listed at the end of each weekly Evo. 
2. Lean in when you come to chapel, listening for the way God is speaking. Pray before each chapel, asking what God wants to say to you today, maybe even using Samuel’s prayer; “Speak Lord, your servant is listening”.
3. Consider making Upper Room a part of your week as our student chaplains help us dive into ways we can practice this spiritual walk. Upper Room meets very Monday at 8:00 p.m. in the Warming House. This Monday night, we’ll be talking about celebration.
4. Oh, and find a church, because we can’t do this alone.   

Walk this way.

Week of January 20-26

Monday          Psalm 1; John 1:1-28

Tuesday          Psalm 5; John 1:29-51

Wednesday    Psalm 119:1-24; John 2:1-22

Thursday         Psalm 18:1-20; John 2:23-3:21

Friday              Psalm 16; John 3:22-4:15

Saturday         Psalm 20; John 4:16-42

Come and See

John 4:42; 1 John 1:1-4

When I was a sophomore in college, the men’s basketball team from the high school I attended made a run at the state championship. I listened to the quarter final game in my dorm room and made the decision to meet my parents for the semi-final game on Friday if they won. They did, so I got in my car that Friday morning and headed for Ann Arbor, MI. 

Listening to the game was cool, but I had to be there; to sit in the arena, smell the popcorn, hear the whistle and squeaking shoes and 1500 fans yelling, watching my friends play for our first state title since 1936. I heard the band, the coaches, the fans, the sights, sounds, even smells of the game because I was there. Sometimes you just have to see for yourself.

John writes about this in the opening lines to his first letter:

“From the very first day, we were there, taking it all in—we heard it with our own ears, saw it with our own eyes, touched it with our own hands. The Word of Life appeared right before our eyes; we saw it happen! And now we’re telling you clearly and plainly, with confidence that what we witnessed was, incredibly, this: The infinite Life of God himself taking shape before us.

We saw it, we heard it, and now we’re telling you so you can experience it along with us, this experience of communion with the Father and his Son, Jesus Christ. 

1 John 1:1-3

The emphasis is difficult to miss, isn’t it? Hearing, seeing, touching. It’s the same thing Peter says in his second letter:

“We didn’t follow clearly invented stories when we told you about the arrival of Jesus. We were there for the preview! We saw it with our own eyes: We were there on the holy mountain with him. . . We heard the voice out of heaven with our very own ears.

2 Peter 1:16 

There’s a story in John 4 about a Samaritan woman who comes to faith because she met Jesus by a well. This story is layered and rich with meaning. The disciples couldn’t get over the fact that Jesus was talking to a woman, and a Samaritan at that. It’s a story included this week in our daily reading plan. 

After a long conversation, Jesus sends her home where something familiar happens, she invites others to come and see. Her invitation is the same that Jesus gave Andrew, and Phillip gave Nathanael, to come and see for yourself. John tells us that many believed in Jesus because of her story and then went to find Jesus, not because they didn’t believe, but they wanted to meet him, to see him for themselves. When they met Jesus, this was their response: “We no longer believe just because of whatyou said; now we have heard for ourselves, and we know that this man really is the Savior of the world.”

Come and see. It moved them from hearing to believing. Hearing someone talk about Jesus is one thing, coming to him is quite another. How do you get to know someone? You spend time with them. How did you become so close with your best friend here, someone you most likely didn’t know before you arrived? You accepted an invitation to friendship, to dinner or a movie.  You talked with them, listened to them, spent time with them and over time, became besties.  You heard and saw for yourself. The same invitation to friendship that you accepted is the one Jesus gave Andrew, and Phillip gave Nathanael, and this un-named Samaritan woman gave to her neighbors. Come and see. And it changed their lives forever. 

Week of January 27-February 1

Monday               Psalm 25; John 4:43-54

Tuesday               Psalm 26; John 5:1-18

Wednesday         Psalm 38; John 5:19-29

Thursday              Psalm 37:1-18; John 5:30-47

Friday                   Psalm 31; John 6:1-15

Saturday              Psalm 30; John 6:16-27