For the humility of the game

It's not often watching sports one happens to think about waxing theologically. But for some reason this
past Sunday, I found myself doing exactly that. As I kicked back on the couch, attempting to enjoy an afternoon of rest after a morning of leading worship, I found myself frantically trying to keep up with both the NASCAR race and the NFL. My team (the Panthers) and driver (Tony Stewart) were both agonizingly close to victory. But, then it all imploded. The Panthers blew a 4th Quarter comeback, largely due to poor passing by Cam Newton and Tony wrecked the entire field going for the win on the last lap. Both men had seen their hops of victory dashed by disaster at their own making. Both men had seen their teammates, and in the case of NASCAR, fellow competitors, have their hopes of wining exterminated as well. The only question that remained was "how will they deal with this?"

I quote Tony's reaction first. In his postrace interview he made these remarks "“I was trying to win the race and I was trying to stay ahead of Matt (Kenseth) there,” Stewart said. “Michael got a great run on the bottom and had a big head of steam. When I turned down, I turned down across the right front of his car......It was a mistake on my part but it cost a lot of people a bad day.”

(Credit: Sporting News)

It took a lot of guts to admit that he made the mistake that cost so many competitors a chance at winning. But  he did it. 

And in addressing his loss, Cam Newton made the statement "Call it what you want to call it, Cam Newton didn't play good football today." Another tough admission of personal failure to get the job done. Which is somewhat of a change in Cam's attitude. It took a lot of courage, but he finally he did it.

(Credit: Getty Images/Bleacher Report)

In the midst of all that, I started pondering this question "what would the world be like if we all had more humility and could admit, as Stewart put it, when we have screwed up?" I, for one, know my personal world would be better. I will admit that my personality is not one that likes to admit mistakes. It hurts. I often find myself needing a good dose of humility. I think a good majority of the world could use one to be honest.

Jesus spoke often about humbling ourselves, and I think it is probably one of the least abided by of Jesus words. It's hard to humble ourselves. It's hard to admit when we've let others down. It's tough to stand up and say "I blew it, and I know it." But we have to. If we don't, then we fail to progress forward. If we don't admit our mistakes are our mistakes, then we will continually repeat them. But once we take ownership, we put the pressure on ourselves to do something about it. It's in that moment of pressure we take steps toward growth. 

Everything in life is a choice. Sometimes our choices pan out, sometimes they don't. But either way, in the end, we have to take responsibility for them. So perhaps we should take a cue from Smoke (Stewart's nickname) and Cam and have the humility to admit it when we "cost people a bad day" or "<insert your name here> didn't have a good day today. From my perspective, it's only when we do that do we really have a chance to move toward those good days, and I hope you will join me in doing so.

The Fallout from Amendment One

The Fallout From Amendment One

As I continue to peruse my newsfeed and read articles regarding the passage of Amendment One here in North Carolina, I am disheartened. The name calling, mudslinging, and outrageous generalizations and stereotypes coming from both sides of the issue are appalling. The most disheartening thing about it for me though is that is often Christians who have been doing the insulting.

I made it no secret that I personally opposed Amendment One. At the prompting of several members of my church with questions regarding Amendment One and homosexuality in general, I did my best to promote an unbiased conversation regarding the church, homosexuality, and amendment one. In writing, I presented an objective analysis of Christian viewpoints on all these matters, along at the end, with the conclusions I had drawn from the information I had compiled. I never expected anyone to latch on and take my beliefs simply because I am a pastor. That is simply not what I am called to do. My calling is to shepherd, to teach, and to love. In order to do that, I must equip those believers I am blessed to serve the best I can so that they may seek to understand God in the context of their own lives. Amendment One provided an excellent opportunity to do this, and I was encouraged by the good amount of thoughtful, loving dialogue which took place, even among those who came down in different places. I was saddened by a small minority who refused to even hear thoughts differing from their own, but again, a small majority. That being said, I feel we have grown as a local church through this.

However, I am afraid the same thing cannot be said about the church universal or our state. The debate regarding Amendment One turned into a "I'm a good Christian, you're not" argument. I was reminded of Christ's disciples arguing about who would be the greatest in His Kingdom. Just as it was then, the determining factor is who is loving and welcoming.

In this debate, there has not been much loving or welcoming. Christians whose convictions led them to vote "for" have been labeled bigoted, intolerant and the like. Christians whose convictions led them to vote "against" have been labeled false prophets, pseudo Christians and the like. There is no room for such division and name calling in the Kingdom of God.

The true fallout from this Amendment, at least in the context of Christianity, goes much deeper than it's legal ramifications. It has hurt the church. The church once again has been viewed by those outside the faith as a people who rather than love and are filled with hate. The fact that Christians failed to dialogue and be loving, and move forward regardless of the outcome has been the real detriment to the faith. I understand convictions and emotions ran and continue to run deep on the issue. I have the belief we are all entitled to our beliefs and to live them out as we believe we should. But there is no room for allowing our pride to make us think we are worth more or are greater in God's eyes because of those convictions. Such a mentality will only bring shame upon ourselves and the name of God.

So Christians, in these coming times, I urge you to do this. Be respectful of all whether they agree with you or not. Learn to understand and appreciate those who are different than yourselves. This does not mean you have to be persuaded or change your own convictions, but really knowing and understanding takes the fear and hate out of an issue and allows for mutual respect. Pray for each other, especially those on the opposite side from you. Christians should be, above all else, a people who can love our neighbor, even when we don't agree. And that isn't simply the JP Perspective, that is the Jesus Perspective.

Love God with everything you've got. And each other, love the same way. (Paraphrase of Jesus Great Commandment Matthew 22:36-40)

Blue Like Jazz - The Truth

I was quite happy to see Blue Like Jazz the Movie finally getting some attention in MSM over the weekend. I just hope it didn't come too late. At least every couple of days since I saw the movie in a preview screening, I have unashamedly posted links to buy tickets on various social networking sites, in addition to talking it up in conversation. I was happy to read this morning that the movie has enjoyed success in multiple markets, while disappointed that it was struggling in others. Here's hoping for continued success for the film.

But why do I believe in it so much? Why, as a Pastor and person of faith, promote so heavily a film which has brought with it a pretty heated discussion on whether it is truthful or blasphemous? Why not just stick my head in the sand and ignore it, or better yet, stay in line with other "evangelical" leaders and speak out against it, as opposed to promoting it?

Because, from my perspective, it is truth, rather than blasphemous. Why?, you ask.

Christian circles have for far too long have failed to present reality. We have largely lived in a bubble where we have convinced ourselves everything is OK, and if we just keep doing what we've been doing, everything will turn out fine.

Oh, how wrong we have been. Our insistence on "happy Jesus faces" and shallow faith has led to shrinking churches and distaste for Christianity rather than success. It has led to many young people, who upon leaving the confines of their Christian "bubble" encountering a crisis of faith which for many has been irreconcilable.

Blue Like Jazz speaks to the heart of this very problem. The movie, based on Don Miller's wildly popular book of the same name, features the lead character, Don, raised a conservative Southern Baptist, heading off to school at Reed College, known as the most godless campus in America. The transformation and spiritual wrestling match which ensues is gripping, provocative and truthful. When put into places where our faith is challenged and not the norm, we are forced to be awakened to the reality that our beliefs are not shared by the entire world and that they may just not be as concrete as we thought they were.

And that is a good thing. If the church, if the Christian faith, if Jesus, is to be reclaimed as relevant to life, then we have to be willing to pop the bubble, deal with our pain, questions, and live our lives in a way that matters. Otherwise, faith will continue to die and the potential life changing impact of Christianity will continue to grow weaker by the day.

So, go see Blue Like Jazz, pop your bubble, and live a life that matters.

For tickets, go to www.bluelikejazztickets.com

I am going to hell for Facebook Jesus tells me so.

I am going to hell. Or at least that is what one of the many "Click n Share" Facebook Jesus' informed me this morning would happen if I did not pass it on.

For the last several days my Facebook newsfeed has been inundated with tacky representations of Christ with even tackier messages attached to them. The guilty one of this morning read "Whoever is ashamed of me, I will be ashamed of in front of My Father. Will I be ashamed of you? If not, pass this on" In reading this I heard "Pass this on, or you will go to hell you heathen."

After recovering from my initial offense at this absurdity, I began to ponder what I would call "Click n Share" theology.

This particular brand of theology seems to be ever increasing in popularity. This theological persuasion basically asserts that the definition of a good Christian is one who simply states "I Love Jesus, how about you?" and that is pretty much as deep as it goes.

A love for Jesus Christ and a living Christian faith is about a lot more than clicking and sharing. It requires sacrifice. It requires loving other people (which in itself is often a sacrifice). It requires living a life which in itself affirms one's love and devotion to Christ. Such devotion cannot be accomplished simply by "clicking n sharing". Insinuating ill consequences on those who choose not to click and share is itself far from an act of love.

It troubles me to know that in America today, "click n share theology" is the deepest many peoples Christian faith goes. Many Christians do not know nor have no desire to really share their faith. So instead, with the click of a mouse and a warm fuzzy feeling inside, they feel like their work for the Kingdom is complete.

As I read the Beattitudes this morning, as I try to do fairly often, I failed to see the one which reads "Blessed are those who share horribly inaccurate and horrifically cheesy pictures of me on Facebook. The Kingdom of God is theirs. Way to go!" No, instead, I found these words

"God blesses those who are poor and realize their need for him,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.
God blesses those who mourn,
for they will be comforted.
God blesses those who are humble,
for they will inherit the whole earth.
God blesses those who hunger and thirst for justice,
for they will be satisfied.
God blesses those who are merciful,
for they will be shown mercy.
God blesses those whose hearts are pure,
for they will see God.
God blesses those who work for peace,
for they will be called the children of God.
God blesses those who are persecuted for doing right,
for the Kingdom of Heaven is theirs.

"God blesses you when people mock you and persecute you and lie about you and say all sorts of evil things against you because you are my followers. Be happy about it! Be very glad! For a great reward awaits you in heaven. And remember, the ancient prophets were persecuted in the same way. (Matthew 5:3-12 NLT)

Now I ask you, does your own faith go deeper than clicking and sharing? This Easter season, I pray you may find God calling out to you to love the poor, work for peace, be filled with mercy, and growing in your faith in real ways.

And that, from my perspective, cannot be accomplished by clicking and sharing.

Pain. It hurts. Reflections on life and Holy Week.

Pain. It hurts. I know that seems like an obvious statement. But so often we are guilty of pretending we don't hurt. This is especially true of Christians. Why are we as Christians so afraid to admit that things in life bring us pain? Are we victims of a "SuperChristian" mentality, where we have convinced ourselves that we aren't supposed to hurt? I think so and I just don't understand why.

I mean, really, why the farce? Being a person of faith does not make us immune to pain. Of any type. Emotional pain, physical pain, spiritual pain. We feel it all. Why are we so scared to admit our brokenness and to feel our own pain?

Yesterday, I had one of those days. You know one of those days. Where the pain worked it's way to the surface. The physical and emotional toils of MS coupled with a hurting heart for people I know who are enduring their own battles caught up with me. And I had to let it out. A good cry, a good conversation with my wife, and some prayer and contemplation. But you know what? It felt good. I felt freedom and release in finally admitting that I am not perfect, I do not feel great everyday and that life takes it toll on me like it does everyone else. It felt good just to admit it. Last night, for the first time in months, I slept. Really slept. No meds, no all night insomnia, just good sleep. This morning, I woke up at 6, filled with joy and excitement at what the day might hold. Not because I am free of pain, I am still broken, but because I allowed myself the freedom to be released from the grip it was holding on me by simply admitting, pain hurts.

And this morning as I reflect on this Holy Week, I can't help but to see the Gospel lived out in my experience of the past two days. Before the glorious resurrection on Easter Morning, there was Holy Week. A week in which Christ bore the brunt of his emotional anguish. He knew what was coming that week. He understood that betrayal was coming, beatings and mockery, and ultimately a crown of thorns and a cross awaited Him. But He did not run from it, nor did He hide it. Anguished prayers in the Garden of Gethsemane, long talks with the disciples, and a deep understanding that pain was real unavoidable, and even necessary.

Without that pain, there would have been no Easter morning. As Dr. Mac Wallace constantly affirmed to us at Campbell University Divinity School, we cannot rush through the pain of the Cross in an eagerness to get to the resurrection. Doing so somehow leaves us void and unappreciative of the glory that comes with the resurrection.

So that has been my Holy Week lesson. Pain hurts. But rather than bury it, hide it, or ignore it, we must accept it, live through it, and come out on the other side.

Only in doing that, can we fully appreciate the freedom that comes on Resurrection Morning in our lives.

Spiritual but Not Religious?

"I'm spiritual but not religious..." is a sentence which is becoming increasingly spoken in our society today. Christians hear it and aren't sure what it means and often times the people who use it are convinced that they have figured out the secret to divine happiness and are eager to tell the world about their superior thinking. Needless to say, the spiritual but not religious movement has become a divisive factor in our nation today.

As a pastor, I wrestle with this issue often, in regards to how I preach on the issue as well as how do I, as a follower of the Christian faith, relate to those who fall into the spiritual but not religious category. I am always eager to hear and speak on the issue.

This week, I had the opportunity to hear Rev. Dr. Lillian Daniel address this very issue in a lecture at Campbell University Divinity School. She has taken some serious flack in the recent past for her public criticisms of the spiritual but not religious type citing it as an example of our "American narcissistic tendencies". She pointed out, accurately so, the approach of the Christian church has often been to either a) ignore the movement or b) apologize repeatedly for the mistakes of our faith. Neither approach works. Ignoring those who profess spirituality but not religion simply enhances the stereotype that Christians are self absorbed and believe they are holier than others. Repeatedly apologizing often leads to guilt among Christians, who in actuality, have done nothing wrong. It also sends the message that Christians hold to a faith that they are rather ashamed of. Daniel pointed out that the "Christian" many people point out and criticize is in fact a small minority of believers. This is true. Many Christians are more progressive, down to earth, and focused on issues of justice than stereotypes would give us credit for, Daniel stated she found it downright offensive when she is grouped with the loud, radical minority rather than having her true beliefs understood. Amen, sister.

Following her lecture, I had the opportunity to engage with her in brief conversation on whether or not either of us had ever had a meaningful conversation about faith with a spiritual but not religious individual. We both came to the conclusion, no not really. The stereotypes are so heavily embedded that they are seemingly impossible to overcome. And yet, as Christians we have to try. We have attempted to do this by apologizing, to no avail. Pretending the problem doesn't exist, to no avail. What is left to do? Daniel has proposed and acted out in what I would describe as a "we're mad as hell and not going to take it anymore" strategy. That being, allow our actions to speak for themselves. Rather than apologizing for the actions of a few, live out a life of actions that show the truth. When someone says "I am spiritual but not religious because all Christians hate (fill in the blank), live your life in such a way where you can reply "well actually I and my church love (fill in the blank) and we have worked toward a meaningful relationship with them by (fill in the blank). No apologies, but actions.

A note here to those who consider themselves "spiritual but not religious". One of the biggest things we as Christians are often accused of is hatred and bigotry. Issues of Islam and homosexuality are the hot button issues of the day. If you consider accusing ALL Christians of hating gays and considering all Muslims as extreme radical blow up the world fanatics, then are you not making the very same general assumptions about us that you are accusing us of making? Just food for thought.

To my fellow Christians, how do we address this issue? I recently preached the story of Balaam, his donkey, and Balak. In this sermon I attempted to use some of the caricatures of Christians and spiritual but not religious folks. I portrayed Balaam as "spiritual but not religious". In that he practiced magic, and consulted the counsel of many gods, and yet still heard from the God. I made the point that the spiritual but not religious folks do have contributions to make to society. This paralleled Balaam, in that despite his limited understanding God still used him to bring blessings to others. Balak on the other hand represented those who out of fear or ignorance have a vendetta against people of faith. The "militant" religion haters. And it is often the spiritual but not religious types who are recruited to jump on this bandwagon, as Balak tried to hire Balaam to bring destruction upon God's people, the Israelites. Lastly, I addressed the donkey. I attempted to point out that in the story, it was in fact the donkey who understood better than anyone else what was going on. He faithfully served Balaam, despite Balaam's actions, and did his best to keep Balaam out of harm's way. The donkey in fact saw God when Balaam could not.

Christians, we are called to be more like Balaam's donkey. Not stubborn or hard headed, but loyally and lovingly guiding. The donkey ran Balaam into a wall, steered his course, in his efforts. When Balaam beat the donkey, the donkey simply asked "why? Have I not served you faithfully?" rather than apologizing for what he had done. Church that is our calling. To serve those who claim spirituality but not religion faithfully. And when we take a beating for it, rather than apologizing, be able to say boldly and truthfully "why are you beating ME? I have served you faithfully." Only in doing this will we be able to truly be able to combat the stereotypes placed on Christians and be able to regain the prophetic voice we are called to, which guides people to encounters with God rather than providing them with reasons to run away.

The Hunger Games and the Gospel

After several weeks of anticipation, I finally got to go see The Hunger Games Saturday night. I was eager to see the movie for two reasons: (a) I loved the books and (b) my native home, Western North Carolina, served as district 12.

I thoroughly enjoyed the movie. For the most part it stayed true to the book but as with any film addaptation there were cuts/changes made. The good part though was that they did not take away from the story at all. And it was quite fun seeing places I had hiked to and visited in my life on the big screen. Those who hail from more commonly filmed landmarks may not see the big deal in this, but for this small town mountain boy, it was a big deal.

As usual when I consume pop culture, I could not help reflect on the social and theological implications of the work. For those of you who don't know, without spoilers, the premise of the Hunger Games is that in a post apocalypse America, the fascist government insists on each district (think states) sending a male and female tribute (children)to partiticpate in a death match. The purpose of this is to remind the people of what it costs to rebel against the governrnment. The names of the tributes are drawn randomnly but to receieve extra food for their families, the triutes have the opportunity to enter their name additional times, hence the title "The Hunger Games."

So as I read and watched the story unfold, I couldn't help but think about the real hunger games going on in the world all around us. With the recent explosion of the Kony video, the real life issue of children being forced to fight to death came to the pullic conversation. While I am not sure if the methodology really did or will do anything to help address the issue, at least it is burned into people's consciousness.

But what about the Gospel? Jesus called on His followers to follow him, and doing so meant loving each other as oneself. Are Christians in the world today doing that? Jesus had a special place in his heart for children. With the two coupled together realizing that children are the ones who suffer the most from hunger and war, and the church's less than stellar record in addressing it, I can't help but have my heart broken. And I know Jesus heart breaks as well. For He told us "whatever you do unto the least of these, you do unto me." If we really believe that then I can't help but think to myself, we are subjecting Jesus Christ to hunger games the world over. Jesus went to the cross for us, why do we shy away from being his heart, his hands, his feet in a hurting broken world? The way I see it, if believers do not step up, then our world will increasingly look like Panem, the world of "The Hunger Games". Is that the kind of world you want?

I didn't think so.