During my weekend conversation in Clovis a couple of weeks ago someone shared a thought they had recently read on a blog, though they couldn’t recall where it had come from. I have searched the web to see if I can find anything like it and have not been able to do so. If anyone knows where this came from, please let me know. I always enjoy giving credit where credit is due, but this is too good not to share now. It painted an all-too-accurate picture of the process of institutionalizing and the cost of doing so.

What he said was, people create institutions in an attempt to pass on their contributions to future generations. Therefore at the outset they are an attempt to grasp an illusion of immortality by creating a system designed to perpetuate itself. For it to do that it has to offer an air of infallibility, so that its aims and methods go unquestioned by subsequent generations. In essence, our religious institutions by projecting immortality and infallibility actually become false gods that people are asked to serve instead of teaching them how to follow the Living God.

And like any false god, the institution will occasionally needs a human sacrifice to keep up the illusion. Challenge its priorities or methods and you must be ejected immediately and discredited so everyone else will be afraid to do so. If you dare to question those who feel called by God to manage such institution, you will be considered a threat and forced from the group. How many of reading this have been that sacrifice? Even formerly close friends will ostracize you and gossip about your “rebellion” or “bitterness” to make sure you are marginalized as an example to others.

It reminded of Israel’s desire for a king and God’s warning that putting power in the hands of a king would mean that he would take the best of everything that they had for his own benefit. God knew how power corrupts the human heart and anyone with absolute power would think he should have all the best for himself. He’d said their sons to war, steal their daughters for himself, and take the best of their crops and herds. Even a man with a heart like David’s thought himself special enough to rape Urriah’s wife and then have him killed in battle when he refused to come home and sleep with her so that he would think David’s baby was his own.

Notice how this entire process can begin with the purest of motives but still end up exploiting and manipulating people in a way that is incredibly destructive. I’ve seen it happen over and over again to people and those who think they lead the institutions have no idea how much it has disfigured them. While being otherwise generous and gracious people, they become hurtful and destructive in the name of protecting what they mistakenly to be God’s gift.

Do all institutions have to end up like that? Can people find ways to cooperate together without falling victim to an institution’s need to perpetuate itself? I believe it can, but in honesty the examples of that are thin indeed. Almost all begin by a group of loving people who want to share a vibrant life in Jesus, but over time become those more concerned with protecting their turf rather than continuing to love the way Jesus loves them.

And I’ve been with so many incredible people in the last two decades who became the human sacrifices the institution needed when they recognized it had look forsaken God’s priorities for its own. Maybe that’s why Jesus told us to love each other, not to create systems we think will outlive us.

How easily Truth gives way to icon! Nearly 2000 years ago outside Jerusalem, at the first crack of dawn the crucified body of Jesus suddenly stirred to life. The Spirit of God not only reanimated his body, but resurrected that body in a completely new form. Jesus became the firstborn of a whole new creation of men and women–transformed from corruptible to incorruptible, from mortal to immortal.

Resurrected Man walked the planet for the first time. Jesus had overcome death and now lived beyond it so that we too might see and know and feel and hear him as he comes to live in everyone who invites him to do so. That’s the heart of the Resurrection, not just that he overcame death, but that he lives inside each of us today and wants to share an even deeper relationship with each of us than he was able to by living in the flesh alongside Peter and John, and Mary and Martha.

Today millions of people will gather all over the world to celebrate the Resurrection of Jesus. They will sing songs and hear sermons on the Resurrection. Then too many of them will wake up tomorrow morning and live like he isn’t in the room. They won’t look for him, listen to him, or follow him. Has religion reduced the fact of the Resurrection to an icon we can celebrate once a year and still miss its very reality each day?

Religion always takes something that is real and makes an icon of it to empty it of its power. Instead of worship being the way we live under Father’s care, it’s a song service we attend. Instead of communion being a meal of rich fellowship and remembrance of him, it becomes a shot class and a dried wafer tacked onto a formal service. And instead of church being the living community of people who are encouraging each other to follow him, it is merely a weekly gathering in a building in which we are more spectator than participant.

Celebrating the icon is not at all the same as embracing the reality. The Resurrection of Jesus is not best celebrated in fancy-dress religious gatherings, but in waking up each morning with an eye and an ear turned toward the Living Jesus who wants to make himself known in you today and lead you into the ever-increasing freedom and joy of knowing him.

When truth gives way to icon, it’s best to reclaim the Truth again even if that means abandoning the icon. He is risen indeed and because of that I am not alone today to fend for myself in my sins, doubts, trials, or fears. He is with me and I with him today, and he is making all things new!

What a weekend! I gathered with some folks near my old stomping grounds, not far from where I grew up and where I served on a church staff for five years in the earliest days of my post-university and just-married life. People came from all over this part of California, including people that were in that fellowship a long time ago, a second cousin I’d not seen since I was 15, people who’ve been through painful betrayals by brothers and sisters they thought were their friends, and those facing some huge challenges with religious voices clouding their freedom to follow what God has already put on their heart.

One of the undercurrents to our time was reconnecting with old friends and reconciliation between people who’d been caught up in some painful conflicts. One of the couples that had been part of our painful departure from a fellowship in Visalia, which I’d co-pastored for fifteen years and from which I was “resigned” by what I thought was one of my best friends, while I was speaking at another fellowship elsewhere. This couple had connected with Sara and I before the weekend even began in hopes that their coming wouldn’t be awkward for us. We were able to work through misunderstandings and unresolved issues from over 17 years ago and were able to renew a friendship that had been lost. What incredible joy to find myself once again in the midst of a friendship that had been lost in those confusing days.

One of my favorite conversations of the weekend was on Sunday morning as we talked about betrayal by close friends, and the process by which forgiveness and reconciliation can truly happen.

Betrayal happens when a close friend decides to lay your life down to achieve something they want for themselves. They don’t mind hurting you to get what they want. It happens often in this broken age. When Jesus told us that there was no greater love than one laying down his life for another, he meant our own! Walking all over someone to get even what you think God wants for you is the darkest of deceptions. It is exactly the opposite of how he asks us to live.

Forgiveness is a unilateral process where we can truly take our foot off the throat of those we consider to have wronged us. Forgiveness does not exonerate the betrayer; it frees the victim from the ongoing pain of the other’s actions and opens the opportunity for us to find healing inside and the freedom to move on with what God has for us. But forgiveness is not just a choice of the will; it is a process where we bring out hurt and pain to Jesus and he works us through them to a place of true release and forgiveness. It may take a few months or even years, but don’t stop short of it being complete. Just keep it discussing it with Jesus as he untangles your hurt and leads you into a real forgiveness of others.

Reconciliation, however, is a bi-lateral process that can only happen when both parties are ready to sit down and honestly explore each other’s story with a spirit of compassion and humility. It cannot be forced and can only happen when all parties truly value the relationship over anything else. It recognizes that the most important thing Jesus asked of us is to love each other as we are loved by him.

Reconciliation, too, is a work of the Spirit to prepare each heart to truly listen to each other’s story, laying aside our own assumptions and judgments, admitting our mistakes, caring about each other’s pain, and resolving any outstanding issues by God’s grace and mercy. Reconciliation heals the relationship and allows a friendship to grow onward.

However, neither forgiveness or reconciliation requires us to trust the one who betrayed us. It allows us to love them again, but trust, once violated, can only be won back by the demonstration over time that the person values the relationship above his or her own self-interest. We are never told to trust someone beyond our conviction that they will lay down their lives for us in moments of conflict.

What a weekend this proved to be! When people have asked me if I am reconciled to those who were part of our painful departure from a church we help plant, my answer has been with all but four of the couples who were part of excluding Sara and me. Today, I can say all but three, and Sara and I now have the joy of another friendship, restored even more closely than it had been before those painful days.

Reconciliation is just the best! In the past four months I’ve had the blessing of being part of two reconciliations of important friendships that were cut off in days of pain and betrayal. Both lasted over 15 years and have now come to healing again. I wish it hadn’t taken so long, but this isn’t a process we control. I think broken relationships break our Father’s heart more than anything else that goes on in our world. It is the result of sin and competing for things the Father has not given us. What absolute delight it is to work through the pain, misunderstandings, and confusion that caused the disconnect, and celebrate the grace of God that triumphs in all of us, even in our failures and mistakes.

That’s what God has sought since the fall in Eden with each of us. It’s what he celebrates when his children find a way out of their pain and selfishness to reconnect in a renewed friendship.

Here are some pictures that capture a bit of our weekend in Clovis, California:

More than 50 people gathered with us over the weekend

Conversations that matter with people who care

As always, some of the best stuff happens in more personal conversation–the twos and threes.

I’m still reflecting with gratefulness on my time in New Zealand. the joy of this trip was found in many of the one-on-one, and one-on-two conversations that I had with so many people as I journeyed around the two islands.

Two college students drove me back to Christchurch from Fairlee to catch my flight north. I love it when young people have such a hunger for God’s things. The questions they were asking and the discussion we had warmed my heart. Toward the end, the twenty-one year old medical student leaned forward from the back seat and said, “You know, what I’m beginning to wonder is if living loved seems difficult because it is far simpler than we dare to believe!” Wow! Go down that road. That’s a great one.

In another conversation a world-known documentary film director was telling me about the discipleship program he grew up in. After five years in jail he was walking the streets of a city one night looking for a bridge he could sleep under. Me met a man just walking the street at God’s leading to help rescue someone. That man invited the former prisoner home and told him a bit about Jesus. The next day as he left for work, he said he’d be back later and this man could ask him any question he wanted to. That’s how he came to Christ and learn to follow him, not by anyone’s curriculum, but simply being able to ask questions with someone who cared enough to try to answer them. Loved it! Best discipleship program ever!

One group in a city I overnighted in was trying to form a fellowship around a nonprofit coffee shop they had designed to help the poor in their community and to bless a leper colony overseas. They mentioned that once a year they cancel their weekly meeting for six weeks and always find the things that happen without the meeting to be far more fun and fruitful than anything they do in their meeting. Loved it! Then they started talking about the fact that they had just started up the meetings again. “Whoa!” I said. “Let’s go back a bit to that other road you were talking about. Go down that one and see where it leads.”

Why do we think meetings will bring the kingdom of God. As John Beaumont told me in Rotorua, “If meetings could bring the kingdom we’d have brought it by now. If organizational structures could bring the kingdom we’d have it by now. If seminaries and pastors’ seminars could bring the kingdom, we’d have it by now!” Our generation has seen more of that than any other, and yet many people in those things are some of the most spiritually impoverished people you’d want to meet.

Love it! And if you want to hear some of our larger conversations in Auckland, the group that hosted me there has posted them on line. You can find them here.

This weekend I’ll be in the Central Valley of California meeting with people from all over my spiritual past, including folks I used to “pastor.” Can’t wait to see what kind of journeys they are on today and why they want to meet with me. Then later in April I’ll be off to Russia, for the first time, and a re-visit to Holland.

If I could only figure out how Phillip got around in desert the book of Acts, I wouldn’t have to spend so much time in tiny airline seats.

I’m back from New Zealand and taking a couple of days off to catch my breath and to catch up with the family. I’ll probably write more later, or talk some about it on the podcast this week. But until then you can read about our Saturday gathering in Auckland.

The man who organized my time in Auckland wrote, “Thanks again for the wonderful time that we had with you. You have given us enough to “work on” (probably not the right terminology, but you know what I mean), for the next 10 years. However, I hope that it is not that long before we see you (and Sara?) again.”

As much as I enjoyed the larger conversations on this trip, what really captured me was the more personal conversations with twos or threes that spontaneously emerged as days unfolded. I had gone to New Zealand to meet personally with two men whose journeys I truly admire, but God also put me in the midst of a number of intense situations in people’s lives, many too personal to even disclose, and then revealed himself in marvelous ways to bring hope and healing. It makes me smile with joy today just thinking back over the trip. It was so much fun to be alongside Jesus as he was doing his work.

I’m off to New Zealand and excited about so many of the conversations I’ll have there with some friends from my previous trip and a whole lot of new folks. I love that at this point in my life I get to be in conversations that matter, with people who care. There is nothing more fun and more productive. I’m excited about this trip for another reason. This begins a task that I sense Father has put before me for the next couple of years.

I have felt for some time he has been encouraging me to spend more time equipping those who want to help others live loved, especially those who feel they have a calling to help equip others on this journey. I will still spend time helping people learn to live and connect relationally, but know it is time to equip others to do what I do, consistent with what God is doing in them. I see the tendency such people have to create systems, garner an audience, or push themselves using the conventions of men to hopefully end up helping others. But often, it is more about THEIR ministry, than it is about genuinely helping people. And I think that often happens because they don’t see how else they can truly equip others in this journey.

Before I do that with what I see, I sense God wanting me to facilitate a larger conversation with those who’ve lived such lives over decades. I want to see what they see and learn from what they’ve learned as we sort out the best way to pass on this life to subsequent generations without burdening them with new structures, curricula, or methodologies. Relationship with Jesus runs so much deeper than that and the tools of human effort never reach to the heart. What do we say and do that genuinely encourage people into a meaningful relationship with him, and in doing so connect in meaningful ways with other believers that truly allows the kingdom of God to grow in the world?

One of the great treasures I have received in the past 20 years are the relationships I have with older brothers and sisters around the globe who are on their own relational journeys and many of them far longer than me. I have gained greatly from their wisdom and passion. Over the past few months I’ve sensed that God wants me to have some conversations with these dear people aimed at what they would pass on to a new generation of brothers and sisters on this journey. What do they wish they’d known sooner? What has helped them continually to grow over a life time in their own knowing of God?

Two of those brothers are in New Zealand and I’m going to get some time with both of them. And then there are many others I want to bring into that conversation over the next two years looking to answer a set of questions that will hopefully provide some wisdom as to how we encourage a new generation of pioneers to learn how to live loved and equip others to live loved, too, without being tricked into creating schemes and programs that cannot bear the glory of a real, growing relationship with Jesus.
You can help me in this if you want. If you had the opportunity, what would YOU ask these brothers and sisters about their journeys? What do you think would help others find their way into a meaningful relationship with Jesus and encourage them in discovering how to embrace the church Jesus is building in the world. If you want, you can leave your thoughts in the comments below. I will incorporate those I can. I’m not looking here for the questions about your own desire to live loved, but how we might be able to encourage people who want to help others live loved. It should be an interesting conversation that I will give regular updates on here and at The God Journey, even if we find out there’s nothing we can pass on. Perhaps this is only a work Jesus can do.

Finally, I did a podcast with the Family Room Media guys a few weeks ago, and they just posted it today. It takes a look back at some of my journey in recent months and the inklings I have on my heart about what God has put before me. You can listen to the podcast here. They are involved now in a new project called Jeff’s World, a theatrical movie about a disillusioned evangelical pastor sorting through the difference between following his heart and fulfilling the obligations that have controlled his life. It’s a light-hearted comedy with the subtitle, “Caught between the flock and a heart place.” Cute. Very cute! You can find out more here, and you can be involved if you want.

I’m off to Texas tomorrow to spend the weekend with people in the Dallas area, and the early part of the week with a fellowship near Abilene that is sorting out what it means to live relationally. Before I go, I thought I’d leave you with another excerpt from my new book about learning to embrace the Father’s process for transforming us.

As I look out my window in every vista I see winter giving way to spring—-the daffodil and forsythia are in bloom, the tender shoots on my vines are just starting to swell. Rarely does my own spiritual season match the one outside. This year it may. I have been through a long winter season spiritually, drawing into a quiet place to let the Father cut back the myriad of opportunities that confronted me to the few, simple things he has asked me to do well. I am more settled on what that is and excited to let go of those things that will be no longer be fruitful for me.

I’m not ready to talk about all of that yet. There’s still some clarity yet to come. But it seems like the perfect time to share with you the next chapter from my latest book, In Season: Embracing the Father’s Process of Fruitfulness. If you haven’t read them earlier, you can read earlier parts of the book here:

• Introduction
• Chapter 1
• Chapter 2.

Chapter 3: The Seasons of the Vineyard

There is a time for everything, and a season
for every activity under heaven:
a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot.
Ecclesiastes 3:1

Who led you to believe that every day should bring a harvest, or that fruitfulness is borne out of days of great joy and ease?

Those who do not understand the life cycle of a vineyard seek to live in the illusion that all days should be the same, that life should be one continuous harvest, or that a life of blessing is a life free of challenge and pain. They grow easily frustrated when their circumstances don’t fit their carefully laid plans, as if God and heaven have conspired against the journey.

But there is no way to comprehend life in a vineyard without an appreciation for the seasons that govern its life and the process God uses to bring a vine to fruitfulness. It takes all four seasons to bring a harvest. One is not more important than the other; each has a purpose in the glorious process. Without the bitter cold of winter, the branch cannot be pruned. Without the hot days of summer, the fruit will not ripen.

My computer works the same whether it’s a January morning or a July afternoon. If I type, it responds. But that’s not true of the grapevines growing on the hillside beyond my window. For them the seasons make all the difference. Winter gives way to an explosion of spring, spring to the overbearing summer, summer to the gentle autumn, autumn to winter’s chill. It has been so since that first dawn and it will continue until the last. Our globe circles the sun with a spectacular tilt that lets the sun be shared in the course of a year over the widest possible area of the globe. This carefully chosen orbit produces in each hemisphere an unending cycle of seasons. As the sun spreads its beams over the Northern Hemisphere we experience the hot days of summer, while the southern part of our globe endures winter. Our days are longer, theirs shorter. But in June the sun begins its southern retreat. Our days diminish in length as theirs grow. As much as people love the days of summer, winter is no less important to the fruitfulness of the vine.

At every moment, what the farmer does in the vineyard is dependent upon these seasons. If he tries to gather grapes in spring he will find only the smallest beginnings of a harvest yet to come. No one will eat these grapes. If he tries to prune in summer he will only destroy the vine he cares for. The seasons control everything the farmer does in his vineyard. Anyone who has walked with God for any length of time recognizes that God works with us at different times in different ways. At some moments our lives seem to bubble over with joy and ease. At every turn we see God’s hand moving, and when we open the Scriptures the words seem to leap off the page with insight and meaning.

At other times the joy we experience is far deeper as we endure painful or distressing circumstances. During such times recognizing God’s voice is not easy. Needs press us from all sides. We may find ourselves repenting far more often than rejoicing. If we don’t understand God’s working in seasons, we’ll make the mistake of assuming that the moments of euphoria are what Christianity is meant to be, and anything less is proof of his displeasure.

Look at the life of Jesus. His life was marked by seasons when he was overjoyed and by those when he was deeply troubled, only able to offer up “prayers and petitions with loud cries and tears.” We see him in crowded moments with great numbers of people clamoring for his attention, and at others alone on the hillside taking time to be alone with his Father. We see him making wine for a young couple’s wedding, and later driving out moneychangers from the temple.

Jesus was not afraid to embrace the changing spiritual seasons of his life and those around him. He didn’t follow a rigid code that could direct him through every circumstance he faced. Rather, he flowed with whatever he saw his Father doing, responsive in each moment to his purpose in ever-changing situations. We would do well to follow his lead. Our spiritual growth demands an ever-changing climate where God’s work is tailor-made to our present circumstances. The sun does not control these seasons. They are controlled by the Father as he spurs us toward fruitfulness. These seasons will bring us a healthy balance of both joyful and challenging moments, of diligent effort and renewing rest.

Each season offers something that the vine needs for its continued growth. Spring brings the needed rain and softened days to help stimulate growth without crushing it in the searing heat. Summer offers enough sun to bring the grapes to maturity. Autumn offers the opportunity for harvest undaunted by rain and a chance for the vine to restore itself before winter. Finally, winter brings a much-needed rest and the opportunity to restage the vine for a new season of fruitfulness. Without these changing seasons there would be no fruit.

The same is true for our spiritual journeys. Fruitfulness emerges out of God’s process to shape our lives for his purpose through our daily struggles. We aren’t always meant to live in the joy of harvest. Fruit matures in the difficult days of challenge and perseverance. If we don’t understand these shifting seasons we’ll find ourselves fighting God’s work instead of embracing it.

Faulty religion teaches people that their efforts can induce God to fill their lives with comfort and favor. If we do good, pray the right way, or work the disciplines hard enough we can get God to do what we want. Without saying it overtly, religion seeks to teach people that they can manipulate God to do their will. Those who believe this lie end up in despair when their circumstances don’t change the way they want. They think either God is failing them or that they just can’t do what it takes to please him.

To engage God’s process of fruitfulness we should spend far less effort trying to change our circumstances; and thus we will find far more freedom in learning to respond to God as we go through them. What he shapes in us becomes far more important than our own comfort. Each season we will receive something needed for continued growth. If we could remain in any one season continually fruit would never grow. By responding to God in whatever season we’re in, we can embrace his work and we can let go of even those things we love when the seasons shift. All of it is part of making us fruitful.

We can enjoy the benefits each season brings and also endure in the challenges for the greater work in our lives. And each has its challenges. The dangers brought on by weeds and invading insects can be overcome, but they cannot be resisted. Without the pruning of winter and the discipline of spring, nothing will grow. The same is true of the long, hot days of summer that ripen the fruit.

Jesus’ example on the cross teaches us that life can be celebrated in the midst of pain. Not all suffering is harmful. It can produce the very fruit that brings great pleasure to the Father. Though he never delights in those things that hurt us, he does realize how necessary some of them are to bring us into the fullness of his glory.

We will begin our journey in spring and continue to walk through the vineyard in its various seasons. As we see what the vine is going through, we’ll look for parallels in our spiritual lives. Seeing God’s hand through these moments will leave us more equipped to recognize his working in us and less anxious trying to get God to change our circumstances to make us more comfortable.

As we begin however, let me highlight one important distinction between seasons in the vineyard and seasons in our lives. In the vineyard, all vines endure the same climatic realities together. They are all pruned in the winter, cultivated in the spring and summer, and harvested in the fall. You will soon discover that this is not true of our spiritual lives. God deals with each branch on the vine individually, giving special care to its own unique growth. And since our seasons are not controlled by external elements of our environment, they may not line up with anyone else around us. I may be enduring the restaging of winter while someone near me is enjoying the fun of harvest.

That is why Scripture warns us repeatedly not to compare ourselves to others, and why when we do, we end up confused (2 Corinthians 10:12). Often when we compare ourselves with someone else, we compare the best thing going on in his life with the worst going on in ours. Instead of looking at the rest and refreshment that God brings through my spiritual winter, I instead focus on the circumstances that surround it: diminished activity and fresh wounds from the recent pruning. When looking at the person who is in the middle of a fruitful harvest, I highlight their joy and acclaim, and forget the risk and cutting that go on in those days as well. What is even more ironic in this scenario is that while a wintering branch may covet the harvest, the branches in the busyness of harvest will long for the peace and serenity of winter!

All of God’s branches would be far better served if they stopped looking around for something better and instead embraced the present work of God.

God is always working. Jesus assured us of that (John 5:17). It may not seem like it sometimes, since we may have missed his hand in the distractions or challenges we’re facing, or because he isn’t doing what we think he should be doing. Instead of comparing or complaining, I am better off looking for the way God is working in my life at that moment. That’s the key to walking with God. He determines the seasons of our lives, such as when to prune, when to feed, or when to harvest our fruit. We are his followers, and he wants to teach you how to follow him.

___________________

This is Chapter 2 of my new book, In Season: Embracing the Father’s Process for Fruitfulness. Copyright 2011 by Wayne Jacobsen and used by permission. Available from Lifestream.org

In the aftermath of of watching THE SHACK project blow-up into a costly legal battle, lots of people have asked me why I continue to collaborate with others. I get asked that a lot as people look through A Man Like No Other, where three people came together to put words to art that would celebrate a life of Jesus that is not always unveiled in our religious interpretations of him. The fact is, I love relationships and the synergy of producing something together. When people truly bring their gifts to the table and with humility seek to bring their best ideas together, there is nothing more powerful or energizing. I understand why Jesus sent the disciples out in twos and why God himself embraces his own community with such love and joy.

I realize that some people will abandon a collaboration as soon as they get their benefit out of it. When anyone needs to control the fruits of the collaboration and ceases to continue celebrating it as a gift among friends, it will turn incredibly painful. It has often been said that so much much more would get done if people were not concerned with who gets the credit. Unfortunately, there will always be those who will consider the credit more valuable than the friendship.

While that’s tragic it doesn’t sour me on the joys of collaboration. The truth is most of the people I’ve collaborated with on various projects stay true to their word and continue to share the fruits as they did the labor. Simply, I believe the things we talked about in our podcast on The Collaborative Life, namely that God exists in a community and he is all about bringing selfish, independent humans into that community and then teaching them how to share it with others. When humble hearts work together a greater wisdom shows through than anyone can produce working alone.

But that doesn’t mean I would say the pain of it going bad is worth it. It never is. It is always devastating when people betray others in their own quest for independence. But isn’t that the reality of the broken creation? Many have endured the betrayal of a spouse, the dishonesty of a business partner, or the manipulation of a colleague at work or “in ministry”. I hear those stories all the time and hurt for the victims. And I shake my head at the excuses some use to justify their agenda.

The truth is, promises are cheap. They are only valuable when they are fulfilled, especially when it isn’t easy and when others say they aren’t really that important. Character is demonstrated when people actually honor them. Fortunately I know lots of people like that too. Just because some might cheat on their spouses or dishonor their own word doesn’t mean I still can’t feast on the joy and faithfulness of my marriage, and the tastes of community and collaboration that God might still want to give me in this life. It’s also why I continue to encourage others to embrace the reality of community even if it painful at times.

If the abuse of something makes you discount it, then you’ve lost something beautiful. Just because someone uses a hammer to hit me over the head, doesn’t mean I can’t use that same hammer to build a bridge.

I met with a man last week who wants to turn So You Don’t Want to Go to Church Anymore into a movie. I’ve long thought that done right the John and Jake conversations could be a compelling movie, but I wouldn’t want to trust anyone to get the story right. And since I didn’t know him we arranged to spend some time together during my recent trip to Washington. We had a great conversation and I think he really gets it and wants to embellish the same things in that book that I do and make an independent picture of that story and share it with an entirely new audience.

What’s more, he was at the Sundance Film Festival a couple of weeks ago and happened to sit next to a screenwriter he didn’t know who happened to be reading that book. What are the odds of that? So, we are discussing having her take first pass at the screen play and she wants to work collaboratively with me in making sure we get the story right. Pretty cool. We are moving slowly here, so don’t expect a constant stream of updates. He’s already involved in a movie now and is thinking this might be “what’s next” for him.

As part of our dialog, however, he shared an illustration with me that I loved. He shared that one of the greatest challenges that people face on this journey is that they gt caught up in trying to sort out college level and beyond concepts and ideas, when we haven’t even begun to focus on or even master 3rd and 4th grade material:

“For instance”, he said, “one of the biggest lessons that Christ gave, I believe, is to ‘First take the plank (or log) out of your (own) eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from you brother’s eye.” If we were all to focus on just this one lesson, I believe the world would be a much different place. A lot of our fights seem to occur at the college level material and beyond. While it’s fun and even worth while to question whether Heaven is ‘this’ or ‘that’ or whether the afterlife is like ‘this’ or like ‘that,’ it’s like trying to fully understand calculus without any knowledge of algebra. Once you learn algebra your relationship and understanding of the words that describe calculus change, evolve and take on different meaning. So trying to understand the spiritual with only the religious or the heart with only the intellect or the experiential with only the concrete can be provide quite the difficulties.”

I’ve thought about it a lot sense. I used to have a profound curiosity about the great theological questions of eternity, eschatology, and God’s sovereignty. I have found over the last few years that my growing engagement with Father has lessened my hunger to sort out those things, or even to engage in the ongoing debates about them. Spiritually I’m still in the third grade trying to understand how to love the people around me each day in the same way I am loved by Father. And I am loving that. There’s a reason Jesus passed over the disciples’ incessant questioning on such matters. “No one knows the date but the Father himself.”

If that’s spiritual calculus, and I’m still years away from spiritual algebra, then I don’t have to waste my time figuring out those things that are best left to him. That’s why in The Jesus Lens, I talked about being certain where Scripture is certain, and being ambiguous where Scripture is ambiguous. I know that isn’t easy, especially when someone in spiritual first grade is expounding on their theological convictions and you find it a turn-off. You might feel embarrassed that they seem to know something you don’t know until you realize that they don’t know it either. And their need to convince you how right they are is all the proof you need to know they aren’t really sure themselves.

Let’s learn to live loved-—by him, and then out of that love with others. If we learn to do that well, who knows we might someday get into a bit of algebra!