The Next Step in the Journey - My Very Own Life Group!

A few weeks ago I received a card from my church inviting me to a "special event" at the pastor's house where he would share his vision for the future. When I discovered it was invitation only and not an open house I had to resist a small swell of pride - Pastor Dale likes me! He likes me better than some other people! You know, juvenile crap like that.

Turns out it was less of a sharing session and a little closer to an ambush. Pastor Dale, Pastor Jim, and Pastor Dustin explained that the church was going to put a major focus on creating new small groups (and changing the name to life groups) for midweek meetings, and that everyone there had been invited because they would like each of us to create and lead, or at least host, one of these groups.

Being publicity shy and having the mild phobia of public speaking that comes with being an introvert/geek, I surprised even myself by immediately turning to Heather and saying we need to do this. My only explanation is the leading of the Holy Spirit. I had been thinking that I needed to find a place to give of my time to the church, not just of my money, and now this opportunity is just dropped in my lap. As if I needed more convincing that there are no coincidences.

So now here we are, about to do a recruiting open house at church and a month away from our first meeting. We're going to go through Grace to You's Fundamentals of the Faith series for starters, because 1) I love John MacArthur, and 2) they left me in charge of picking the curriculum.

You don't have to go to my church to come to the group, or go to church at all. A simple desire to want to know God better is all you need. I even started a fancy facebook fan page to keep everyone updated. Feel free to like the page, or contact me by any of the usual means if you want more details.

It's time to earn that "choice and mighty" name I gave myself here.

John 6, part II

Part I available here.

So, what took so long to get this part up? Well, one answer is I'm a little lazy, another answer can be found in verse 60, which we'll get to shortly.

Picking up where we left off, Jesus was just beginning what has come to be known as the Bread of Life Discourse. Verse 36 indicates that the crowd still just isn't getting it.

But I said to you that you have seen Me, and yet do not believe. 

How is this even possible? How could anyone have been in the physical presence of Jesus, seen His miracles, and not believed? He expands further on His mission in verses 38 and 39:

For I have come down from heaven, not to do My own will, but the will of Him who sent me. This is the will of Him who sent me, that of all that He has given Me I lose nothing, but raise it up on the last day.

This brings us to the difficult part of the chapter, where one of the longest-lasting controversies of Christianity still rages. Call it election, predestination, or just the dreaded U in Calvinism's TULIP. There are thousands of pages for and against, Augustinian vs. prescient view, enough to make your head spin if you let it. If you're at all familiar with the debate you've most likely already chosen a side. But verse 44 seems to come down in Calvin's favor: "No one can come to Me unless the Father who sent me draws him" - note that it's can, not may or will or shall. It's a matter of ability, not permission. If God didn't choose you out of death and into life before time began (cf. Eph. 1:4) you will be unable to draw yourself out. Salvation truly is of the Lord.

A very touchy subject and I haven't even scratched the surface of the centuries-old debate. Or, you'll notice, explained any opposing viewpoints. My blog, my rules.

Jesus continues with the bread of life theme through verse 59, and people continued to take Him literally when  He said in verse 51 "The bread also which I will give for the life of the world is My flesh." So He has to explain again. And again. The thickheadedness and willful ignorance of these people continues to astonish me. But they did capture the sentiment perfectly in verse 60, and I think the NKJV translation totally nails it: "This is a hard saying, who can understand it?" I hope you now understand a little of the difficulty I'm having with this post.

And indeed, by verse 66 the difficulty was sinking in with a lot of people:

As a result of this many of His disciples withdrew and were not walking with Him anymore.

To the point it may have been down to just the twelve that Jesus chose as His inside group. And Peter, who always fluctuates between knucklehead and genius, thankfully brought his A game in verses 67-69:

So Jesus said to the twelve, "You do not want to go away also, do you?" Simon Peter answered Him, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have words of eternal life. We have believed and have come to know that You are the Holy One of God."

Wow. No need to ask if that's his final answer, is there?

The death of my other Dad

Uncontrollable love. How fitting.

Last Sunday evening, the town of Monson lost an icon, and my wife and I lost a Dad. Michael Kane went to his eternal reward on May 2 after a heroic battle with cancer. I am grateful that Heather and I were able to be there with the rest of the family when it happened, but that certainly didn't make it any easier.

Mike was a lifelong educator who worked at Monson Jr.-Sr. High School for thirty-seven years, proceeding from teacher all the way to principal. After his "retirement" he made a second career at the Massachusetts Interscholastic Athletic Association, and volunteered for pretty much every education cause you could think of, and a bunch more that you can't.  He was also one of the finest woodcarvers I've ever seen. The birds, Celtic spoons, and assorted other figures he made for us over the years are among our most cherished possessions, and displayed a little more prominently now.

But I think the most important thing I can say about him was that he was more like Jesus than pretty much anyone else I've known. Giving and kindness were his default settings, so to speak, and whenever someone needed something, anything, his first answer was always yes. Even as his health declined and he had every right to start making demands of people, he continued to ensure that everyone else was taken care of first. I knew Mike for fourteen years (which still makes me the "new guy" in that circle) and while I heard stories of his flashes of temper, which usually occurred when someone refused to carry their weight or was acting strictly for their own advantage, I never actually saw him become angry. How many people have you known for fourteen years that you can honestly say that?

More evidence of what Mike was like came during the visitation time at the funeral home on Wednesday night. That was probably the most emotionally draining experience I've had, to say nothing of the physical challenge of standing and shaking hands for four hours. If that's anything like a political rally I am never running for office. Visitation started at 4:00; at 6:50 I noticed the line was no longer all the way out the door; at 8:15 we were finally able to stop, breathe, and attempt to sit down. To say there was an outpouring of affection doesn't do that evening justice -- this was more of a river, though I think deluge or burst dam would also apply equally. Some of the things I heard that night:

• "I was in the class of 1968, Mike was my science teacher. I'll never forget how enthusiastic he was about learning."
• "I was in the class of 2001, Mr. Kane was my principal. I'll never forget that he was always fair with us."
• "Mike was the only person who welcomed me when I moved to Monson thirty years ago. I'll never forget the kindness he showed me then."
• "Mike took our son, who was dying of cancer, to lunch every week. Mike was the only person who wasn't afraid of the machinery he had to travel with. We'll never forget how sweet he was."
• "Mike wrote an amazing letter of recommendation for my daughter. I'll never forget how much he did for her."
• "Mike was the most important mentor I had in life, and the reason I became a teacher."
• (From a former state legislator) "Mike and I worked on several education bills together, his dedication to students was amazing."
• "Mike was instrumental in promoting my anti-bullying book and program to the schools. I'll never forget how much he helped me."

I started to notice a pattern, maybe you saw it too. "I'll never forget." Not just empty words or expressions of sympathy, but a promise to all of us that Mike would continue to live in thousands of hearts, minds, and changed lives. Well, I'll never forget either.

I hope I made you wish you could have known my second Dad. I wish you could have known him too -- then you would never forget.

Bye Pop. We'll see you soon.

P. S. There are a couple of newspaper columns about Mike available here and here, there is an obituary with a guestbook here, and the legacy.com guestbook is available here.

My first fast

A friend of mine loaned me a copy of Celebration of Discipline by Richard Foster with no explanation other than "I felt led to give this to you." Not that I needed another example, but I immediately began preparing myself for a "there are no coincidences" moment. The book goes through twelve spiritual disciplines and explains how practicing them (without turning them into legalism) can bring you closer to God.

The chapter on fasting had a particular impact on me. I knew that fasting had been done in the past, and I know that it is still practiced today (even by people in my own church), but I had always associated it with some kind of physical or spiritual crisis, sort of like a hail Mary pass to God. Mr. Foster makes the case that this is not true, that fasting can be used regularly to increase your passion for and closeness to God.

John Piper, in the preface to A Hunger for God, says "The weakness of our hunger for God is not because He is unsavory, but because we keep ourselves stuffed with 'other things.' Perhaps, then, the denial of our stomach's appetite for food might express, or even increase, our soul's appetite for God." Increasing my soul's appetite for God is always a desirable result for me, so I've decided to try what Foster described as a basic fast, going twenty-four hours without food, from lunch one day to lunch the next. The advantage of starting on this timeline is that only two meals are skipped, making it easier for beginners like me not to yield to temptation. And since I have this here bloggy thing, I've decided to take you all along with me. So here we go...

12:15 PM:	Finish a healthy lunch of fruit, yogurt, and cheese. I decide to chase it with some BBQ potato chips and Doritos so I'll have happy memories to fall back on if this turns out to be harder than I think.
2:30 PM:	I feel hungry. I can't actually BE hungry at this point, I think part of me is starting to freak out at the thought of going until noon tomorrow without solid food.
4:30 PM:	Getting the first rumblings of actual hunger now. Unfortunately there's no way for my brain to explain to my stomach the higher purpose of what I'm doing. I think I Corinthians 6:12 is going to be handy for the rest of the night: "All things are lawful for me, but I will not be mastered by anything."
5:40 PM:	Arrive home to find the house stocked with enough food and leftover Easter candy to become a humanitarian aid station if needed. The initial wave of hunger is subsiding so I'm not sorely tempted to give in. There's also a spark of clarity forming in the back of my mind. We (I mean personally and the culture as a whole) have way too much...stuff. Not a particularly new or groundbreaking insight, but I'm seeing it for the first time on a very personal level.
7:00 PM:	After a furious internal debate on whether to contribute at the prayer breakfast I attend on Friday mornings, when I won't be partaking in the breakfast, I decide the money is really for the teaching and not the food. So Pastor Skip will be getting his $2 after all. I feel like I'm starting to be guided toward what God wants to reveal to me. II Corinthians 12:9 keeps springing into my head: "And He has said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for power is perfected in weakness.' Most gladly, therefore, I will rather boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may dwell in me."
5:00 AM:	I expected to wake up ravenous and ready to eat everything I could get my hands on but the desire isn't there. I also notice a subtle shift in my mindset, as I don't feel the need to check facebook before continuing with my day.
6:15 AM:	Arrive at Man Alive. Does coffee count? Please Lord, tell me that coffee doesn't count as breaking the fast early. God's answer is that He would let black coffee slide but if I add milk or sugar then it's over. I'm certain He said this just because I'm not yet desperate enough to drink black coffee. I also need to keep myself from judgmental thoughts as I watch all the other men pile bagels and scrambled eggs onto their plates. It does, however, lead me to wonder what kind of sick, food and drug addicted society have we become? And what in the world can I do about it?
8:15 AM:	The hunger pangs are back, but I now know that I have the strength through Christ to see this to the end. It's working! Thank you Jesus, it's working!
12:00 PM:	Acts 10:13

So what did I learn?

• I was concerned about getting on an emotional roller coaster as this went on, and a little worried that this would reveal a spirit of anger deep within me. I find the fact that I was able to remain calm during this whole thing encouraging.
• Self-denial can actually be a liberating experience. As I looked at my pantry full of food and realized that I was free to walk away without having any, it put a little spring in my step.
• My perspective changes in such a short period were amazing. I'm now seeing food, and even possessions in general, in a whole new light.

And, would I do it again? Yes, but I wouldn't make it a regularly scheduled thing and run the risk of making the fast my focus or falling into spiritual pride. I think spontaneous is the way to go.

Thursday, roughly 2,000 years ago

h/t Marco Fiorentino. Thanks for sharing.

“He Chose You” – by Max Lucado
From The Final Week of Jesus, pp 91-94

“It’s nearly midnight when they leave the upper room and descend through the streets of the city. They pass the Lower Pool and exit the Fountain Gate and walk out of Jerusalem . The roads are lined with the fires and tents of Passover pilgrims. Most are asleep, heavied with the evening meal. Those still awake think little of the band of men walking the chalky road.

They pass through the valley and ascend the path which will take them to Gethsemane. The road is steep so they stop to rest. Somewhere within the city walls the twelfth apostle darts down a street. His feet have been washed by the man he will betray. His heart has been claimed by the Evil One he has heard. He runs to find Caiaphas.

The final encounter of the battle has begun.

As Jesus looks at the city of Jerusalem , he sees what the disciples can’t. It is here, on the outskirts of Jerusalem , that the battle will end. He sees the staging of Satan. He sees the dashing of the demons. He sees the Evil One preparing for the final encounter. The enemy lurks as a spectre over the hour. Satan, the host of hatred, has seized the heart of Judas and whispered in the ear of Caiaphas. Satan, the master of death, has opened the caverns and prepared to receive the source of light.

Hell is breaking loose.

History records it as a battle of the Jews against Jesus. It wasn’t. It was a battle of God against Satan.

And Jesus knew it. He knew that before the war was over, he would be taken captive. He knew that before victory would come defeat. He knew that before the throne would come the cup. He knew that before the light of Sunday would come the blackness of Friday.

And he is afraid.

He turns and begins the final ascent to the garden. When he reaches the entry he stops and turns his eyes toward his circle of friends. It will be the last time he sees them before they abandon him. He knows what they will do when the soldiers come. He knows their betrayal is only minutes away.

But he doesn’t accuse. He doesn’t lecture. Instead, he prays. His last moments with his disciples are in prayer. And the words he speaks are as eternal as the stars which hear them.

Imagine, for a moment, yourself in this situation. Your final hour with a son about to be sent overseas. Your last moments with your dying spouse. One last visit with your parent. What do you say? What do you do? What words do you choose?

It’s worth noting that Jesus chose prayer. He chose to pray for us. ‘I pray for these men. But I am also praying for all people who will believe in me because of the teaching of these men. Father, I pray that all people who believe in me can be one…I pray that these people can also be one in us, so that the world will believe that you sent me.’ (John 17:20-21)

You need to note that in this final prayer, Jesus prayed for you. You need to underline in red and highlight in yellow his love: ‘I am also praying for all people who will believe in me because of the teaching.’ That is you. As Jesus stepped into the garden, you were in his prayers. As Jesus looked into heaven, you were in his vision. As Jesus dreamed of the day when we will be where he is, he saw you there.

His final prayer was about you. His final pain was for you. His final passion was you.

He then turns, steps into the garden, and invites Peter, James, and John to come. He tells them his soul is ‘overwhelmed with sorrow to the point of death,’ and begins to pray.

Never has he felt so alone. What must be done, only he can do. An angel can’t do it. No angel has the power to break open hell’s gates. A man can’t do it. No man has the purity to destroy sin’s claim. No force on earth can face the force of evil and win – except God.

‘The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak,’ Jesus confesses.

His humanity begged to be delivered from what his divinity could see. Jesus, the carpenter implores. Jesus, the man, peers into the dark pit and begs, ‘Can’t there be another way?’

Did he know the answer before he asked the question? Did his human heart hope his heavenly father has found another way? We don’t know. But we do know he asked to get out. We do know he begged for an exit. We do know there was a time when if he could have, he would have turned his back on the whole mess and gone away.

But he couldn’t.

He couldn’t because he saw you. Right there in the middle of a world which isn’t fair. He saw you cast into a river of life you didn’t request. He saw you betrayed by those you love. He saw you with a body which gets sick and a heart which grows weak.

He saw you in your own garden of gnarled trees and sleeping friends. He saw you staring into the pit of your own failures and the mouth of your own grave.

He saw you in your Garden of Gethsemane – and he didn’t want you to be alone.

He wanted you to know that he has been there, too. He knows what it’s like to be plotted against. He knows what it’s like to be confused. He knows what it’s like to be torn between two desires. He knows what it’s like to smell the stench of Satan. And, perhaps most of all, he knows what it’s like to beg God to change his mind and to hear God say so gently, but firmly, ‘No.’

For that is what God says to Jesus. And Jesus accepts the answer. At some moment during that midnight hour an angel of mercy comes over the weary body of the man in the garden. As he stands, the anguish is gone from his eyes. His fist will clench no more. His heart will fight no more.

The battle is won. You may have thought it was won on Golgotha . It wasn’t. You may have thought the sign of victory is the empty tomb. It isn’t. The final battle was won in Gethsemane . And the sign of conquest is Jesus at peace in the olive trees.

For it was in the garden that he made the decision. He would rather go to hell for you than go to heaven without you.

Hey y'all, watch this!

Still working on the remainder of John 6. In the meantime, enjoy this.

John 6, part I

So when I hear John MacArthur, John Piper, and Pastor Jim at my church all talk about John 6 in the same week, I know it's time for me to take a closer look at it.

I think that most people don't get past verse 21,  talking about the two miracles early on and glossing over the rest. Well, forgive me as I (mostly) gloss over the miracles to focus on what I see as the real meat of the chapter. We start with Jesus feeding the 5,000 (or 12,000, or 20,000, depending on whose interpretation/commentary you're looking at) in Tiberias. I'm sure most of you are already familiar with that story. Next we have Jesus walking on the water. I like to look at this as another example of God's sense of humor. I can just imagine Jesus telling the disciples "Go on ahead, I'll catch up with you" and catching up halfway across the lake, literally scaring the...well, the bejesus out of them. And I think a lot of people miss the third miracle in verse 21, "So they were willing to receive Him into the boat, and immediately the boat was at the land to which they were going." Immediately the boat was at the land; hyperspeed? teleportation? suspension of time? Um, yes.

At this point mass confusion sets in. Only one boat came across the lake; nobody saw Jesus get into the boat, and yet here He is in Capernaum. Verse 25 has the obvious question, "Rabbi, when did you get here?"

Rather than explain what He did, or give an answer along the line of "I'm God, you wouldn't understand" Jesus actually lays into the crowd. Not exactly what you'd expect, especially if you were raised to believe that Jesus was the ultimate nice guy. He starts with one of the most important introductions used in the Bible, "Truly, truly" (or "Verily verily" if you're a KJV guy). You always know when "Truly, truly" comes up you'd better stop and get the highlighter, because something important is coming. Verse 26:

Truly, truly, I say to you, you seek Me, not because you saw signs, but because you ate of the loaves and were filled.

In other words, spare me the Rabbi stuff, you're only here for the free food. Yikes! That would probably be enough to make me hang my head and sneak out the back. Fortunately the tone turns more positive immediately in verse 27:

Do not work for the food which perishes, but for the food which endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you, for on Him the Father, God, has set His seal.

I will admit that on first reading I was a little confused by this. Being firmly in the salvation is by grace through faith camp, is this telling me I need to work for this food which endures to eternal life? The crowd is clearly on the same page as me, since they ask in verse 28, "What shall we do, so that we may work the works of God?"

Excellent question, and a fantastic explanation of why we read and discuss Scripture IN CONTEXT, and don't twist individual verses into saying what we wish the Bible said. Keep going, the answer's in the next verse.

Jesus answered and said to them, "This is the work of God, that you believe in Him whom He has sent."

Ooooohhhhh. So the work is to believe. John Piper said it best, and if you've heard him preach please use his "excitable" voice in your head: "The labor is faith! The labor is STOP LABORING!" Nobody earns it by anything you do here. See also 1 John 3:23, Romans 10:9, and the ubiquitous John 3:16.

So with that out of the way, the crowd expressed their faith in Jesus, and they all lived happily ever after. Right? More like yeah, right. Remember this is Israel we're dealing with, the same people that were called "stiff-necked" or "obstinate" no fewer than seven times in Exodus and Deuteronomy. The first thing they ask is "What then do you do for a sign, so that we may see, and believe You? What work do You perform? Our fathers ate the manna in the wilderness; as it is written, 'He gave them bread out of heaven to eat.'"

In other words, Moses fed us in the wilderness, this feeding you did yesterday is small potatoes. Are you starting to see where the obstinate label fits in?

This is the point that I'm glad I'm not God, because this would have been messy. My response would have been something like "I just fed FIVE THOUSAND of you off of one plate, and you're asking what work I perform? I'm about five seconds from going all Old Testament and smiting the bloody lot of you." Now, aren't you also glad I'm not God?

Jesus then said to them, "Truly, truly, [highlighter time!] I say to you, it is not Moses who has given you the bread out of heaven, but it is My Father who gives you the true bread out of heaven. For the bread of God is that which comes down out of heaven, and gives life to the world."

Then everyone understood that it wasn't Moses that had performed that miracle, but God, and they all lived happily ever after. Or not, as verse 34 shows: "Then they said to Him, 'Lord, always give us this bread.'" I'm not sure how clear this needs to be that Jesus is not talking about a loaf of Nature's Own descending from the heavens, but obviously they're not getting it. So Jesus said to them, "Have you not been listening to a word I've been saying?" No, wait, that's my wife. Jesus said to them, "I am the bread of life; he who comes to Me will not hunger, and he who believes in Me will never thirst."

I am the bread of life.

I am the bread of life.

I AM the bread of life.

That's pretty clear. That's my happily ever after. I'm only halfway through this chapter; more to come shortly.