A Change of Perspective

Last weekend Ellie and I took a backpacking trip near Pine Grove Furnace State Park. It was a lot of work, but I'm so glad we did it!

One Month In...

Today marks the end of my first month of sabbatical and the start of month two, so I thought I'd take this moment between the chores, reading, and hilarious toddler dance parties to reflect a bit and update you on what I'm learning so far. Though it's been a chaotic few weeks, there are three things that have been stuck out to me so far...

Where Was God?

In 1993, South African photojournalist Kevin Carter photographed a starving South Sudanese toddler who was trying to get to a U.N. aid station. Perhaps you've seen it?

Tour Guide Jesus

This is after round one of organizing

We’re only two weeks into sabbatical, but I’m noticing God acting as a kind of tour guide. I start each week with a set of stated goals (this week’s were an anniversary day trip, organizing my office/landfill, helping a buddy with a construction project, and canoe-camping with some manly men from church). Some of those goals were realized, but others weren’t. On reflection, tour guide Jesus seems to be leading me away from things that don’t contribute to my renewal, and steering me toward things that do. So here’s some of what tour guide Jesus* showed me this week:

The First 48 Hours

It’s time for my first official sabbatical post, though to be honest, the start-of-sabbatical retreat was a little rocky. Everything I’ve read, along with the testimony of friends who’ve trod the path before me agreed that it would be, but I was still taken by surprise. Even still, there was much that was good:

This place is seriously gorgeous!

I took my retreat at Caledonia State Park, which, if you've never visited, you NEED to. First thing I did was take a hike. I found within the first half-mile that I’m way out of shape. Once upon a time, three-day backpacking expeditions were a favorite activity, but after a half-hour of walking up the side of a hill I was spent. Several times I considered just turning back, but something kept me going. Maybe it was the embarrassment of giving up so easily, maybe it was the Holy Spirit (sometimes they can feel pretty similar!), but I pushed past the burning calves and panting, and after about a mile, I found I was moving easily and enjoying the gentle sounds of virgin forest.

A New Journey, a New Blog

Tomorrow, I begin a 6 month journey of reflection, growth, and Sabbath rest. InterVarsity offers all campus ministers the gift of a 6 month sabbatical after 7 years of service, and I've been looking forward to this for some time!

My intention is to check in here every week or so with updates, so that all of you who are making this journey possible with your financial support and your prayers can share in the joy of what God's doing during this time! So be sure to check in with this SabbataBlog regularly!

In the meantime, I'd be grateful for your prayers on behalf of my students, my colleagues, and me:

A Front Row Seat

Sometimes I’m just floored by the things God allows me to see and be part of. Seeing students grow hearts for their lost roommate, seeing new populations reached with the gospel, seeing alumni sent into the world with a sense of calling… all of these just amaze me.

I'm so grateful for these students!

Last week I had a front row seat to something really special!

The week began with training a group of 8 intrepid students on using a “proxe station” to share the gospel. Proxe stations are a high-risk/high-reward form of evangelism that aim to draw passers-by into brief but deep conversations about Jesus. They are risky because they require of students the boldness to approach strangers and start a conversation about God. Over the next 3 days, here is how we saw that risk rewarded:

Making Space to Notice

A few months ago, a friend of mine organized a “day of retreat” for a couple of colleagues and friends. She’d had a trying couple of months, personally and professionally, and she decided she needed a day of stillness. She graciously (and, perhaps, prophetically) invited us to come and be still with her. The day we spent at Longwood Gardens was a time of beautiful rest and refreshment in God.

I’d had a difficult few months myself; Ellie’s chronic migraines, fruitless fertility treatment cycles, and repeated fund development dead-ends had left me exhausted. My soul was numb, and everything was just blurring together. I just didn’t know it. I hadn’t taken a proper Sabbath in far too long, and I’d begun to succumb to that falsehood that so many of us depressive-types cling to – that life is just uniformly disappointing.

What I needed was a fresh view of things, a recalibration of my spiritual and emotional barometer. What I needed was God’s gift of Sabbath. After arriving at Longwood and agreeing on a lunch time, our motley little crew of retreaters dispersed to the four corners of the gardens to watch and wait upon the Lord.

With a notebook, a pen, and an open heart, I found a bench and sat. And listened. And watched. And as I simply let my mind wander I jotted down some thoughts. Here are some of the things that came to me…

“A cool breeze, but not too cool for comfort”

“I’m tucked into an alcove – snug as a bug in a rug.”

“The sensation of facing the bright sun, and colors slowly begin to wash out, even with my sunglasses on…”

As I sat on a sunward-facing bench beneath a portico by the conservatory, I tried to still my frantic spirit. As the sun shone on my face, I noticed that the contrast of colors began to fade. I gave myself to the experience, to see where it would go…

Staring straight ahead, the colors began to merge – green and blue lost their distinction, oranges and yellows grew cooler, and I felt my heartbeat slowing. Yes, I thought, I’m beginning to calm. I was beginning to listen.

“The music of the carillon, marking the time”

“The repetitious calls of the birds – are they talking to each other?”

“‘It feels so good to get out in the sun. I feel like a human being again!’ – woman pushing a stroller”
 

From the warmth of my bench, I heard this little observational gem from a passerby. And I could feel it myself. The Spirit was once more coaxing me back toward humanity. Thank God. During the prior months of infrequent Sabbath, as my desire and will for meaningful rest and reorientation towards God faded, I’d become something less than an image-bearer of God. When friends saw me, they saw someone weary and heavy burdened. I needed to become human again, and the stillness and sunshine we helping.

“The trickle of water – melting? Possibly snow or rain draining from higher ground as the sun warms the earth.”

“The distant sound of traffic – life moving on beyond this oasis.”

“The permeating acidity in my mouth from too many cups of coffee”
 

As I sat contemplating my inner life and spiritual numbness, I became aware of another sensation. I’d had a cup of coffee on the way out (ok, four cups), and I could taste a bitterness in my mouth I’d not noticed before. It took me setting aside the time to just sit and pay attention to my “inner world.” Why do I drink so much coffee anyway? Is the bitterness unpleasant? What other “bitter” things are in me right now? (Do I even dare ask that question?!)

“The smooth, warm grain of the wood as I sit on this bench. It’s well crafted – sturdy, heavy, solid, well maintained.”

“The smell of damp wood and flowers”

“Lovely, subtle smell – what is that? Green, dense, can’t quite comprehend it.”
 

It was so nice to be outside, surrounded by green, living things. I was amazed at how something so subtle, so easy to overlook, as the simple smell of growing things could be so comforting – intoxicating, even. Are there other things I’m not noticing?

It was such a slow, lovely day, and there’s too much else I could write about it. But I won’t. I want you to go, be still, take a Sabbath, and just let the lovely subtlety of God’s creation reveal itself to you, and in the process, reveal yourself to you also.

But lest you think it was all navel-gazing, serious introspection, here are some photos of my friends and I with a dragon sculpture we found. Hilarity ensues!

The Action of Faith

My friend Laura asked me to write a guest post about faith on her blog, Fresh Perspectives. This is an expanded version of that article.

In Mark 1, a group of men bring a paralyzed man to Jesus for healing. The problem is, a lot of others had the same thought, so when they get to the house where Jesus is staying, they can't get through the crowd. But these men are undeterred. Rather than give up, they climb to the roof and dig through it. Upon digging through, the text says that “Jesus saw their faith…”

We learn two things about faith here:

1. Faith can be seen. It's active and obvious. The men in the story have faith that Jesus can help their friend, so they naturally take tangible, bold action based on that faith. For them, faith looked like falling bits of plaster, the sound of digging, and a badly damaged roof. What might faith look like for you?
   
2. The object of faith is harder to see. These men had no guarantee that Jesus would heal their friend. In fact, the far more likely outcome would be a lawsuit for destroying private property. Regardless, they envisioned a near-future that was not guaranteed - one in which their friend walks home, carrying the cot that had carried him there. This future was dependent on Jesus curing him of an incurable affliction.

As the writer of Hebrews writes, “Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see.” (11:1)

The men in the story move confidently on a hope, modeling for us a fundamental, essential paradox. Living faithfully means living as if the kingdom of heaven were here, even when all the evidence is to the contrary. It means trusting the providence of our Lord Jesus, though we can't see his invisible hand. It means hoping for the impossible, and living as if it were inevitable.

The men in this story show a tangible faith by trusting Jesus for an impossible healing. And Jesus delivers, even exceeding their grandest hopes. What tangible faith is Jesus beckoning you toward?

Time to Make a Shift

"I didn't realize I could have a personal relationship with God - Growing up, it was just sort of this communal thing, something everybody did."

"I've been panicking about my future a lot lately. Asking a lot of questions. God's showing me how to ask the right ones, and he's interrupting that feedback loop that just fuels the panic."

"That seminar really helped me... usually when I talk to people who don't believe in Jesus, I just debate it with them. But now I get that I can have compassion, and ask questions. I can stop trying to 'win' the conversation, but see them like Jesus does."

These were a couple of the realizations that York students had at shift this past weekend. Our topic, "real faith for real life," was about cultivating a faith that can flex with our ups-and-downs experience of life.

Moving from a static faith to a dynamic one...

... from shallow relationships to deep ones...

... from an inherited religion to a personal relationship...

It was a weekend of looking at the psalms and understanding how David could go from "I will praise the Lord at all times" to "Dash my enemies infants on the rocks!" and still be right with God. To realize that God isn't impressed by how filtered and reserved we are in prayer - He wants in on the most raw, sensitive, real parts of our experience of life; it's there that healing can happen.

It was such a joy to see the kinds of transformation God was working in students' lives this weekend, and I am so excited to see where God leads them from here. Pray with me for "fresh fruit" from students' experience of real, shared faith.

Characters in a Bigger Story

"Then I had a realization. We go through life as if we’re the main character in a story.  But God let me be a supporting character in Sam’s story - the story of her journey toward Jesus!”

Becca sat across the table as we debriefed the week’s events and her face lit up.  It had been a difficult week for sure, but also one in which she’d seen God work powerfully.  She was reflecting on what God’s been doing in (and through) her the last few semesters, and her realization that God’s been using her in the lives of family, classmates, and even friends from home (Sam!) was spot-on.

Becca became part of some new friends' stories at Sexy Pizza!

God has been at work in Becca.  I’ve been so privileged to see her grow in skill, maturity, and boldness.  Just last week, she and some friends took snacks around to every room in a freshman dorm.  They were inviting students to Sexy Pizza, an evangelistic event centered on God and sexuality.  One of those who came the next night thanked them for inviting her.  The conversation at Sexy Pizza had given her a taste of true community and a reminder of God’s love for her!

Sexy Pizza had been a stretching experience, but Becca saw God show up.  Through the honesty of her peers’ questions and the enthusiastic encouragement of her not-yet-Christian roommate (who’d attended Sexy Pizza last year and loved it), God showed up big-time.

As we talked, Becca’s take on the role we play in others’ lives struck me as wonderfully, beautifully true.  We’re all characters in our own story, for sure, but we’re part of our friends stories too.  “And really,” Becca said, “God’s the main character in this whole story - it’s the story of God redeeming the world!"

Jesus is EVERYWHERE

It's been a whirl-wind month around campus! Lots of late nights, lots of deep conversations, lots of new faces. I've had pizza for fully 1/3 of my meals this week. And I've noticed something pretty cool.

Jesus is everywhere.

I saw it when we distributed free water bottles to thirsty freshmen as they moved in (a million years ago, in August). It continued as we knocked on every door in the newly built dorm at the edge of campus, inviting them all to come play night-time tag by the fountain. As the connections strengthened, the conversations deepened. And Jesus was in all of it.

8 days ago, I listened while a freshman from western Africa shared how much she'd been struggling with disorientation and depression since getting to campus. I'd only known her for a week and a half, but already she knew that I and others in our community cared. We prayed together, and Jesus was there.

3 days ago, a student I'm discipling and a guy he's discipling walked down Jackson Street with me to grab some pizzas. As we walked, we dreamed together about how Jesus might want to meet the needs of the students who live there. Later that night, as we studied scripture together, we saw Jesus invite himself to Levi's house for a party, though it hurt his reputation with the religious elite. If Jesus came to be with the sick, where might he spend his time on campus? The shady pizza place on Jackson? A party in the basement of a dilapidated rental house? Jesus is there? Would we follow?

Jesus is changing hearts. He's changing minds. School's only been in session a month, but Jesus has been getting around!

Over the next 2 weeks, it'll be a very busy time for me. Would you pray with me for the many things on my plate, and a keen awareness of the presence of Jesus as I'm working on the following...

• Sunday, 10/2 - Megan and I are doing an hour-long presentation for a church that's considering supporting us. A lot is riding on it, as we'd love to see Megan have more hours on campus (a direct result of increased support for her ministry).
• Sunday, after the presentation, we're leading the student leadership team in an 1.5 hour training on the character of a leader. The topic? Humility.
• Monday - Thursday - I'm co-leading a training conference for 8 new InterVarsity staff. As new staff, I and my partner Shannon will be teaching them to train up missional small group leaders to more effectively reach every corner of their respective campuses.
• Wednesday night, as part of their training, Shannon and I are taking them to York's campus to host 3 large-scale evangelistic events (we're calling them "Sexy Pizza"). They'll facilitate an open conversation about sex and spirituality for rooms full of students who are faithful, skeptical, and searching.
• Friday will be a catching up day - all the things I normally do during a given week of ministry will be put into that day, due to the new staff training conference.
• Saturday, pray for me as I rest and Sabbath, reflecting and preparing...

It'll be an intense week. I'm grateful for your partnership so far - your confidence in our mission, your commitment to its success, and your compassion for York College's 4,600 students is humbling and encouraging!

Thanks for following along!

What Comes Next?

This May, I gave the message at York College's graduation chapel service. Here's what I shared:

So, what comes next? You are here standing on the edge of graduation, you’ve paid your dues, and now it’s time to get moving. You may have a picture in your head of what your life should look like a year or 5 from now. I know I did!

Many of us have been told that the path to a life of comfort and success is through higher education. And now, you are here – tomorrow, you’ll be receiving the most expensive piece of paper you’ll ever own (unless, perhaps, you go to grad school). What will life hold for you? What comes next? And how will you define success?

Many of us, grew up believing that success looked like owning your home, not renting. Owning a car for each driver in the household, not resorting to the bus. Being salaried, not paid hourly (or God forbid, in tips). Marriage, kids, maybe some dogs. Respect of your peers, approval of your boss, getting a leg up on retirement.

What comes next?

Jesus once told a story about how to live a life well… or not.

The ground of a certain rich man yielded an abundant harvest. He thought to himself, "What shall I do? I have no place to store my crops." Then he said, "This is what I’ll do. I will tear down my barns and build bigger ones, and there I will store my surplus grain. And I’ll say to myself, 'You have plenty of grain laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry.'"

But God said to him, "You fool! This very night your life will be demanded from you. Then who will get what you have prepared for yourself?"

This is how it will be with whoever stores up things for themselves but is not rich toward God.”

- Luke 12:16-21

By any objective measure, this guy was living the dream. Well provisioned, master of his destiny, the means to achieve anything that he could want. He spent a life pursuing the dream that our culture markets to us from every imaginable angle today. But the story ends with a grim reminder – what good does all of that do you? The story calls into question many of the yardsticks by which we measure success. We all die, eventually, and what have we done with our lives, besides seeking comfort?

An uplifting thought, for sure.

Fortunately Jesus continues with words of hope and wisdom:

God loves us even more than
the Ravens ;)

Then Jesus said to his disciples: “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat; or about your body, what you will wear. For life is more than food, and the body more than clothes. Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds! Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life? Since you cannot do this very little thing, why do you worry about the rest?

“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

“Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.
 

- Luke 12:22-34

Where do you keep your treasure? In your wallet or your relationships? In your car and home equity, or in care and social equity? In your retirement account or an account of your service of God and others?

What if, instead of working so hard to measure up to this one popular conception of success, you spent your life in pursuit of God’s kingdom righteousness? What if you put this privilege, these resources, this means to affect change in the world in service of God and others, rather than our collective obsession with accumulating “stuff?”

This used car (an '82 Nissan Sentra)
got me through some tough times.

“Sell your possessions and give to the poor?” What if, instead of buying that new car, you picked up a ride from the classifieds and began supporting a world-vision child with the surplus? What if instead of taking the job that simply pays the highest salary and has the best location, you instead took the job that pays poorly but serves those who are in the greatest need?

What if you took as your own our collegiate motto – Servire Est Vivere. To serve is to live. To make it your life’s goal to view your privilege as a sacred trust, a holy stewardship, a means by which you would live as a blessing to those around you. This is the challenging call that God directs toward each of us. Just a few verses later, Jesus phrased it this way: "From everyone who has been given much, much will be demanded; and from the one who has been entrusted with much, much more will be asked." (Luke 12:48)

Friends, you have received much. And you have many choices ahead of you. Where to work, who to befriend, how to live. So I pose the question once more to you, and perhaps share the challenge – What comes next?

This is my prayer for you. That you would find contentment in God, and not succumb to the pressure to measure you life according to outward appearances. Rather, that you’d know the joy and contentment of living simply, using your privilege, position, and provision in service of God, and in caring for those who are unable to provide for themselves.

God bless you as you step into what comes next.

Kegs and Eggs... and Jesus?

Is it beer? Is it anti-freeze?
Guessing is half the fun!

by Evan

Saint Patrick's Day is upon us, and in 3 days, York College students will join in the venerable tradition of drinking themselves to the brink of consciousness - and some will drink a bit further. It's an annual ritual that dates back to, well, whenever someone had the bright idea of putting green food-coloring into cheap beer.

Actually, many students have been 'pre-gaming' for a week already, possibly so that their livers will be good and hard by the time the actual day arrives. In fact, many will start with a newer tradition called "Kegs and Eggs," beginning with a hearty breakfast of omelets and oat sodas.

Really, it's just one more pulsating symptom of a collegiate culture that's whole-heartedly committed to a life in pursuit of a particular kind of fun. As more and more young adults become convinced that this is the one and only standard by which to measure the good life, we see campuses devolving into communities of nascent alcoholism, addiction, and escapism. St. Patty's Day offers an excuse get drunk in so spectacular a fashion that friends will be talking about it for weeks, though you yourself will have no memory of it.

What is a Christian to do?

Should good Christian students stand at the fringes, loudly condemning their peers? Maybe they should join in on the pub-crawls as a way to 'show relevance to the culture.' Or (and this is the more frequent response) perhaps the faithful should gather in someone's room for a movie or game night, thanking God that we aren't like those sinners?

What would Jesus do?

In Luke 5, Jesus meets a man named Levi. Levi's a notorious guy in his community. As a tax collector, he's considered a traitor to his people, a collaborator with the enemy, collecting crushing taxes for the occupying army's emperor. He is certainly a despised figure, avoided by the powerful and the poor alike. Oddly, Jesus decides he'd like to befriend Levi. Naturally, Jesus catches some flak for it, but that's okay. Because Levi leaves his lucrative, if unpopular, trade and follows Jesus.

Later, in Luke 19, we meet another treasonous tax-man. When Zacchaeus hears that Jesus is passing through, he decides to have a look. Perhaps Zach had heard about how his low-life colleague Levi had abandoned his post (a move that certainly would have caused waves in the shady tax collection community), or maybe he had heard stories about this controversial and polarizing miracle-worker/heretic. Whatever the reason, Zacchaeus (being extremely short) climbed a tree to get a good look at Jesus as he was coming through. And, before long, Jesus had another tax collecting hooligan for a friend.

You see where this is going... Jesus managed to hang with some pretty unsavory types. He liked them. He went where they lived, he ate their food, he sat on their couches, and he listened to their stories. Jesus loves broken folks, dirty folks, poorly-behaved folks. Why? Because like a doctor making house calls, he's come for the sick.

As a broken, dirty, poorly-behaved dude myself, I'm grateful.

Fast forward 2,000 years to this Thursday. Based on the kind of folks Jesus went out of his way to befriend, where would you see him? Some student friends and I have decided where we're spending our Saint Patrick's Day - How about you?

Missional Church

by Evan

The reflection offered in the bulletin at my church this morning was a fantastic articulation of one of the primary issues facing the church today. Thought I'd share it with you all!

Most traditional evangelical churches still can only win people to Christ who are temperamentally traditional and conservative. But, this is a 'shrinking market.' And eventually evangelical churches ensconced in the declining, remaining enclaves of "Christendom" will have to learn how to become 'missional.' If it does not do that it will decline or die. We don't simply need evangelistic churches, but rather 'missional' churches. - Tim Keller 

I've long felt this tension in the congregations I've visited or participated in. We feel comfortable with one sort of people, so it's easier for us to imagine Jesus as a part of their lives. Thus, the people we build relationships with and eventually invite to follow Christ are the people who look and act just like us. It's resulted in an American evangelicalism that, at times, looks weirdly homogeneous.

Problem is, as Keller puts it, there are only so many 'people like us' around. The question it begs, in the prophetic phrasing of one of my students, is, "Are we just going for the low-hanging fruit?"

Good question. Are we?

Do we love our Jesus? Do we believe he's good? Do we love our neighbors? How about our enemies? Are we lazy in our evangelicalism, or do we choose to live with a mission to a world that's hurting, and getting worse every day? Let us cling to what some might call a 'foolish optimism,' a visionary prayer life, and an imaginative missionalism as we go forth with love as Jesus' ambassadors to the world.

Jesus Brings the Party

by Evan

My wedding was
considerably shorter

Here's a story I read with some of my new friends on campus tonight (from John 2):

A long time ago, there was a wedding. Back then, weddings lasted for days, and there was no guest list – the whole city would show up, along with friends and family from out of town. This particular happy couple had invited their widowed friend and her adult children to come from their home in the next town over.

Near the end of the third day of celebration, though, disaster struck. 

The women’s area was near the wine cellars, so the women noticed the commotion when the wait-staff realized there was no wine left. Perhaps the expected delivery was late, or perhaps the family had failed to accurately judge how much the revelers would drink. Either way, it wouldn't be long before the newly married couple would be exposed to public disgrace. The festivities  had been planned for months, ending earlier than expected would be profoundly insulting.

The widow from the next town over, though, had a thought. She called one of her sons over, and explained the situation. The terrified servers, procrastinating telling the Chief Sommelier about this inexcusable lack of wine, overheard snippets of the terse back-and-forth between the man and his mother. 

The woman, with a twinkle in her eye, turned from her son toward them, saying, “You guys, do whatever he (nodding at her son) tells you to do.” 

The servers maybe thought this random guy knew about a hidden cache of wine. Maybe they thought he had a connection with a vineyard and could get wine quickly. They certainly didn’t expect the directions he gave them. 

“See those stone tanks over there? The ones used for filling the ritual cleansing pool? Fill them with water, and we’ll go from there.”

The servers are faced with a choice: Do they follow the instructions of a total stranger, whose only recommendation comes from his mom (another stranger)? Or do they throw themselves into the tedious and strenuous work of lugging 180 gallons of water up from the well, bucket by bucket? What will they choose?

Well, the "correct" answer is easy if you come from a churched background. We know the stranger is Jesus. We know he is the son of God, and that he always has a plan. We're conditioned to see dilemmas like this as no-brainers. When a random stranger asks you to do something strenuous and, apparently, pointless, you don't do it. But when Jesus asks you to do it, you don't ask questions. Right?

However, the servers never went to Sunday school. They'd never heard a sermon on dropping everything to follow Jesus, and the author of Hebrews hadn't yet written the exhortation to faith as "the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things unseen." All they knew was that this party was in jeopardy and, more importantly, the reputation of a family hung in the balance. And this Jesus, otherwise unremarkable in appearance and presentation, had them filling colossal jugs with water. What could that possibly accomplish? As anyone who's been to a truly great wedding reception can tell you, water is no substitute for wine. Let's return to the story...

We can only guess why, but the servers comply with the stranger's direction. They begin the slow, tedious task of lugging water from the well to fill up the stone tanks. And even more surprisingly, they really throw themselves into it. They don't stop until the tanks are filled to the tippy-top. 

Then the stranger gives them a far less strenuous (but terrifically more nerve-wracking) task: "Go to the tanks you just filled with water. Draw some out, and take it to the Sommelier."

Is Jesus off his rocker? Is he trying to get these guys fired? I have no idea why they comply with this request, but I'm glad that they do... What comes next is a miraculous event (which hardly anyone notices).

The servers take the cup to the Chief Sommelier, and give it to him to sample. As he sips, swishes, and swallows, his eyes light up. "This," he tells them, "is the good stuff!" (Can you picture the servers' eyes bugging out in surprise?) He calls the groom aside and, almost playfully, ribs him for holding onto the good wine until now. "Most people serve the great wine first, while everyone's still able to savor it, and serve the cheap stuff after the guests are buzzed. You, on the other hand, saved the top-shelf stuff till now. Sneaky!"

Let Jesus be the sommelierat your next party or function.

Of course the groom has no clue what the Sommelier is talking about (and probably doesn't care) - after all, he just got married! He's not thinking about which wine is served when, so he just rolls with it.  The bride and groom enjoy their celebration uninterrupted. The party continues for another few days, propelled by the massive tanks filled with top-notch wine (the equivalent of over 900 bottles-worth). The city of Cana remains utterly unaware of the nail-biting, behind-the-scenes drama that unfolded that third evening.

Only the servers, the stranger and his traveling buddies, and the stranger's mom know how close their friends, the newlyweds, came to disaster during the happiest week of their life.

Thus, the scriptures tell us, was revealed the glory of Jesus. At a wedding in need. With a miracle that went completely unnoticed (except to those who responded with obedience to Jesus' direction). What does this tell us about him?

I could tell you what we came up with as a small group... but that takes all the fun out of it ;). What strikes you about this story? How do you read it? Post a comment as you reflect, I'd love to hear what you think!

Hanging on the Lawn, Munching the Words of Jesus

Last night at 8:00pm, we hosted our first Large Group meeting of the semester. However, in all honesty, last night at 7:30pm  I suspected it was going to be an epic failure - oh me of little faith! Here was my reasoning:

• Strike One - Our room reservation, which we'd so diligently submitted over the summer, was denied for that night, and that night only, leaving us with no room to meet in.
• Strike Two - We'd already distributed hundreds of fliers and hung up dozens of posters inviting people to join us the afore-mentioned room.
• Strike Three - I discovered that our meeting was scheduled for the very same time-slot as the nationally renowned, often-televised comedian performing in the next building over.

So there I was, half an hour before our very first public event of the year, with no location, no plan, and no clue.

How did God turn it around, you may ask?

Several days ago, I was reading a sermon by A.W. Tozer, in which he discussed St. Matthew's account of the feeding of the 5,000. The situation was such that thousands of people were surrounding Jesus and his disciples, it was dinner time, and the people were hungry. With only a few fish and a few bits of bread, there was no way that Jesus and his friends could feed the crowd. And yet, Jesus commanded the people to sit down on "the green grass," and his disciples to distribute the meager rations to them.

Tozer reflects that part of our calling as the church is to provide "green grass" kinds of places, where people can sit and be fed by Jesus. In fact, there's very little else we can provide - all we have are a few fish, a few bits of bread, and our Jesus.

As I was sitting dejected in front of the Student Union last night, God brought Tozer's reflection to mind - we had so little to offer that night. All the plans we'd made were falling through, but sometimes Jesus doesn't need our carefully orchestrated plans in order to sit some people down and feed them. All we needed to do was find a patch of grass for them to sit on... Jesus would handle the rest.

And so 8:00 found us hanging out on the lawn by the Student Union building, literally sitting on "the green grass," while I simply shared our community's vision for our campus. They sat, freshmen and seniors; transfer students and commuters; engineers and artists; believers and skeptics; the needy, the pharisaic, and the enthusiastic.

It wasn't the plan we'd envisioned for our "Introduction to InterVarsity Extravaganza," but God used the circumstances to bring about an evening that won't soon be forgotten, and an invitation to rely on and partner with him as he calls his far-flung children at York to come home to him.

Hallelujah!

Putting the 'Fun' Back In 'Fund-Raising'

Originally Published April 10, 2010

List of observations and questions
 from our study of Philippians

They say that you learn things more deeply by teaching others. Today I led a 5 hour crash-course in fund-raising to a group of 8 college students who are preparing for Sidewalks, a 6-week, incarnational mission project in inner-city Lancaster. I don’t know that I learned anything new, per se, but I was absolutely blessed with two important reaffirmations. 

1. Fund-raising isn’t a ‘necessary evil’:
In my line of work, I meet a lot of people who, when they hear I raise my salary, say things like, “Wow, that must be so hard,” or “Ouch,” or “I’m glad I don’t have to do that!”  Raising support has gotten a really bad rap! But today, I led my students in a study of chapter 4 of Paul’s letter to the Philippians, which is, in a sense, a thank-you note from a missionary to his supporters.

We discovered something cool...

"I rejoice in the Lord greatly that now at last you have revived your concern for me; indeed, you were concerned for me, but had no opportunity to show it.” Now, Paul’s an old man by now, many of his friends have abandoned him over the years, many of the churches he’s founded have imploded, and to top it all off, he’s in prison! Not only has he not been embittered by the hardships he’s endured, but he even considers this latest setback to be an opportunity for deeper partnership!

This has vast implications for how we view the need for fund-raising. Our current need of support is not a necessary evil, but an opportunity for others to invest themselves in our success and work! It’s a special occasion, a chance not to be missed for our friends to extend grace, love, and partnership! What a far cry that is from what we typically think of when we hear the dreaded words “fund-raising.” Which brings us to the next point… 

2. Fund-raising is about building partnerships:
 Perhaps this should be more obvious than it is, but the sad truth is that when we ask or are asked for money, we tend to expect the worst kind of awkwardness. Partners, however, don’t get all weird when they discuss a joint venture.

From what we could tell of Paul’s relationship with his friends at Philippi, it was frank, respectful, warm, and mutually beneficial. He seemed to think that what was good for him and his ministry was also good for his supporters, because they were more than just an ATM to him. They were his partners, friends, and family in the critical mission he was on.

It’s easy to take a utilitarian, need-oriented view of raising support. I’ve been guilty of it at times, and I’d bet I’m not alone. But Paul sets a tone for us to strive toward – when our relationship with donors is respectful, honest, grateful, and warm, there can exist an evolving mutuality, a natural sharing of joys and trials, a friendship that can span decades and distance. When I see Paul’s example, I wonder how I could ever have settled for anything less.

I’m excited. I’m excited to work more closely with my student-friends, and to celebrate with them in their fund-raising joys and to grieve with them in their fund-raising frustrations. I’m excited to return to a joyful, happy fund-raising place for my own support “needs.” Or, as Paul would describe them, “opportunities.”

Musings on Jesus, the Campus, and Ministry Among Postmoderns

Originally Published March 19, 2010

I just read “Finding Jesus at College,” an article by Edward Dutton in a recent issue of the Chronicle of Higher Education.  In it, Dutton claims that “students are most likely to meet Jesus – and stick with him – at the world’s most elite universities” whereas students who attend private Christian colleges “leave, in many cases, far less ardent in their faith.” This is a controversial and though-provoking assertion, to be sure, so I thought I’d jot out a few thoughts about Jesus, the campus, and our approach to ministry to youth and postmoderns in general.

One of the first points in the article had to do with “moments of distress,” which in my experience provide one of the two most critical pieces of faith formation on campus (the other being faithful input to help navigate that crisis). Dutton is spot on in his premise that the challenges to faith that a collegian may encounter will be absolutely critical to the long-term growth and development of their relationship with Jesus.
In his book If Jesus Were a Sophomore, Bruce Main writes,

Unfortunately, in our contemporary Christian culture, we have been seduced to believe that Christian faith is about avoiding crisis… From birth we are raised to think that the sole objective in life is to… live a life that has a minimum of crises. Life is to be lived as safely and securely as possible. Unfortunately, walks down safe and easy roads do not create opportunities to grow as human beings and grow in our faith. I like Erik Erikson’s definition of crisis when he claims,

... In clinical work (as in economics and politics) crisis has increasingly taken on half of its meaning, the catastrophic half, while in medicine, a crisis once meant a turning point for better or for worse, a crucial period in which a decisive turn one way or another is unavoidable. Such crises occur in man’s total development sometimes more noisily, as it were, when new instinctual needs meet abrupt prohibitions, sometimes more quietly when new capacities yearn to match new opportunities, and when new aspirations make it more obvious how limited one (as yet) is. We would have to talk of all these and more if we wanted to gain an impression of the difficult function – or functional unity.

The advice given to college-bound youth by well-meaning parents and pastors is often centered around finding a “safe” place in which to continue the Christian walk by avoiding crisis (what Dutton terms a “fortress of identity). I’ve seen so many students from vibrant, loving, doctrinally sound home churches arrive at college scared to death of losing their faith due to contact with unholy stuff like the proverbial sex, drugs, and rock n’ roll. Many college-aged church groups share an assumption of the value of bringing students out of their natural campus habitat and into the church, where they can be “preserved” against the influences of their atheistic professors and the debauchery of frat keggers.

These well-meaning ministries can set up a false and ultimately destructive dichotomy – church is home while the campus is a dangerous place to be.

However, the unchallenged, insulated Christian life will inevitably stagnate and wither, which is partly why the great efforts of the church to be “relevant” to young people tend to fail so miserably. It is often a therapeutic effort, attempting to relieve the stress of living in a predominantly unchristian culture and reinforce a sense of Christian identity while side-stepping the difficult questions of honoring Jesus in a complex world.

However, when a believer is encouraged to live in true friendship and community with both non-Christians and Christians alike, he must constantly articulate and re-articulate his faith with increasing clarity and conviction. Active and consistent dialogue with those who believe differently raises questions that, left to our own inclinations, we might never consider; if our God is the great God we believe Him to be, we need not shrink from tough questions, whether they come from our nominally Christian roommate, our “burned-by-the-church” relative, or our militantly atheistic Intro to Philosophy professor. It is significant that Jesus’ prayer for his followers was not that the Father would remove them from the world – rather, that He would strengthen them to carry forth the mission.

Unfortunately, this youth ministry strategy of mitigating contact with the corrupt world (or campus) shows up all over the place in the church, on Christian campuses, and campus ministries at secular institutions. There are plenty of exceptions (thank God!), but it does remain a prevalent orientation for many of us who work with this generation. I wonder if this is because, faced with horrifying statistics on the rate of young people leaving the fold (Barna says that less than 1% of American youth will retain a biblical worldview), we’ve adopted a defensive stance (us vs. them), rather than one that presses with humility, dialogue, and prayer into the opportunity for life-long conversion that the university context can provide.

The campus presents a unique context for growth, not just intellectually, but also spiritually. If we could shed the persistent idea that impressionable young minds ought to be protected from the sinful world of campus, and ensure that there is someone there to help them process the hard questions, we might be surprised at the scale of revival that could sweep the academy and the world in the coming decades. As Charles Malik wrote in The Two Tasks, “The university is arguably the single most significant institution in the Western Civilization. Change the university and you change the world.”

With students experiencing unprecedented freedom to reinvent themselves during their four years, the power of a prophetic call to a life of significance, service, and radical follower-ship of Jesus cannot be overvalued.

That said, we are far from being able to reach the vast majority of students or campuses with the gospel of Jesus. My own ministry, InterVarsity, which has staff on more than twice as many campuses as any other campus ministry, reaches only about 100,000 students annually. I say "only" because it’s just a drop in the bucket of America's 18 million undergraduates.

This requires of the church an unflinching commitment to impact the campus and a radical reexamination of the underlying principles that shape how we do ministry with this generation – if, that is, our aspiration is not just to retain the membership of our youth, but to induce the church to grow in the 21^st century.

Switching Blogs

So, I'm switching from my old blog (http://intervarsityycp.wordpress.com/) to this one. Hence, some of the posts are going to be mis-dated - Sorry! I'll post the original date for the posts I'm migrating to this blog. Thanks for understanding!