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One thing I know…

July 1, 2009 — Leave a comment

Worship.
Family.
Vocation.

In the ancient world, these three things were the pillars on which the plane of ‘life’ rested. They gave definition, boundary, and, perhaps most importantly, identity. The same is true today: Who/how we worship, the family of which we are part, and the job or career we’ve chosen are what we often use to define us (we’ll have to discuss how far we have(n’t) come since ancient days some other time). But with these three life-pillars, I think we can more easily relate to one of my all-time favorite stories in Scripture. It’s found in John 9–you can click this link or just follow along from here:

Jesus is walking with his disciples when they come across a man, begging, who has been blind since birth. One of his disciples ask why this man was born blind and Jesus’ answer was a paradigm shifting, “So God’s work can be displayed.” And then Jesus heals the man.

Pause there for a second.

In almost every other instance of physical healing shared in the Scriptures, healing from Jesus is solicited. Someone touches him, someone calls for him, crowds gather around him…and they are seeking his healing touch. But not this time: the man who had been born blind has an unsolicited encounter with Christ. Unsolicited. Un-asked for. He’s begging and Jesus spits in the ground, rubs spit-mud in his face and orders him to wash the stuff off. The man does as he’s told, and he can see!

Okay, kind of weird, I’ll admit, but the story continues… the story continues, but not in the way we think it should. When everyone should be celebrating the miracle this man has experienced, things take a dark turn. In one moment, the main gains his sight but seems to lose everything else:

HIS VOCATION—what do you suppose a blind beggar does? He BEGS. He sits at a temple gate or some other thoroughfare and begs for money. He can’t really do anything else. He’s never learned a trade. He begs.Then Jesus heals him and he can no longer beg. His source of income has just disappeared, and it’s not like he can go to careerbuilder.com to look for some other work he’s qualified to do. That shouldn’t be too bad, though, because he’s still got his family, right?
HIS FAMILY—when questioned by the religious authorities about their son’s encounter with Jesus, the man’s parents are of little help. In fact, they put a great deal of distance between their son and themselves by relying on the fact that the man was legally able to speak for himself, meaning the parents didn’t have to come to his defense or his aid. When he could have used their support and voice the most, this man finds that his parents are taking a very laisses faire approach to his future. At the very least, his family ties are strained. What happens next will probably break them.
HIS WORSHIP PARADIGM—The man again is answering questions about his healing and pushes the wrong buttons with the authorities. In verse 10 we see “…they threw him out.” This didn’t mean the man was just kicked out of the building, he was cast out of the synagogue. He found himself “excommunicated” from his religious family. By ‘throwing him out,’ the leaders were assuring he would be unable to join a trade, interact with his family, or enjoy corporate worship.

All because he had an unsolicited encounter with Jesus.

Everything about this man’s life has just been turned upside down. And he never even asked for the thing which changed his life.

—

But the end of the story is what fascinates me most:

Jesus heard that they had thrown him out, and when he found him, he said, “Do you believe in the Son of Man?”
“Who is he, sir?” The man asked. “Tell me so that I may believe in him.”
Jesus said, “You have now seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.”
Then the man said, “Lord, I believe,” and he worshiped him.

His encounter with Jesus, in a way, cost this man everything. And yet he still chose to worship Christ because, the story indicates, Jesus offered something greater than what the man lost. Think about that: the man has ‘lost’ everything that defined his life… but there was something bigger, greater, more meaningful in Jesus than everything that once defined him.

Jesus offers life, purpose, and hope… but he also shares in his teaching that following him costs everything. Those of us who follow Christ may be wise to ask what following him has cost us lately, because if no cost is involved we probably need to question whether we’re following at all.

What if you had an unintended, unsolicited encounter with God… and in that moment, he changed everything that defined you: who or how you worship, your family, and your job/career/vocation? Would you proclaim, “Lord, I believe”? or ask to be left alone?

I hope I would proclaim with the man in the story: One thing I do know. I was blind, but now I can see! and then leave everything to follow him.

In Cost, Discipleship, Encouragement, Scripture Cost, Discipleship, Encouragement, Scripture

Finishing Well.

June 22, 2009 — 1 Comment

Over the past six weeks a single phrase has been uttered in the Gomez house more than any other. My wife and I have been persistent in reminding one another of the need to ‘finish well’ as our time at Carlisle Wesleyan was drawing to a close. I took extra care to make sure my study habits and the resulting times of preaching were as excellent and prayed-up as possible. We were purposed in granting care and counsel to those in need. We went out of our way to demonstrate love in as many tangible ways as possible. All of this because we knew of the temptation, when ‘the end’ is in sight, to simply “coast” until things wrap up.

Yesterday was my last official day (though there are still some lose administrative ends to be cared for) as Carlisle Wesleyan’s pastor. I think we finished well.

But that wasn’t the most significant ‘job well done’ I was a part of yesterday.

A good friend, Deemer, also finished well. He finished so well, in fact, I’m beyond-a-doubt certain he heard the sweetest words any of us will ever hear: yesterday at about 2:45 in the afternoon, he heard, “Well done. You have been my good and faithful servant. Well done!” I wish I could have been there when Deemer was finally free of the prison of his own body… when he was released from the claws of ALS (Lou Gehrig’s Disease) and able to move, to breathe, to touch, to speak, to walk on his own… when he finally saw the One he has followed so faithfully.

Deemer finished well—in his last days he, literally, took great pains to communicate his love and care for those around them and to share that his faith in Christ remained steadfast even in the dark, stormy place he found himself. He offered hospitality, shared his wisdom, and even injected humor… though each of those things took more energy and focus than I can begin to fathom. He brought glory to the name of Christ. He could have ‘coasted’ until the end came. He could have been self-focused, irritable, mournful, and angry… and no one would have thought otherwise; but he wasn’t any of those things. He finished well.

It makes my own feeble attempt at ‘finishing well’ seem inconsequential.

And I am reminded of why the death of his saints is a precious thing to God.

In Death, Encouragement, Leadership Death, Encouragement, Friendship, Pastor's Postings

Wait for it…

June 19, 2009 — Leave a comment

“Good things come in small packages.”

“Fish and guests both stink after three days.”

“Subprime mortgages are evil.”

“Patience is a virtue.”

Each of these expressions has some level of truth–some more than others (and some are more ‘old addages’ than others), but the sentiments expressed within them have an air of “I-learned-this-the-hard-way-so-pay-attention.” But the one that has always irritated me most is ‘Patience is a virtue.’ Admittedly, that’s because patience is a virtue that can only be learned by waiting… by trusting… by hoping…

Sarah and I have been waiting.

We’ve cried out to heaven for some sense of ‘what’s next?’ and the answer seems to have been, ‘Wait for it.’

Sunday will be my last day as pastor at Carlisle Wesleyan. And after that? We dunno. We’re waiting.

I wish patience was a gift given at the beginning of life. But my guess is: it’s a virtue earned throughout life.

Great.

In Encouragement, General Encouragement, Patience

Moooo-ve.

April 15, 2009 — Leave a comment

Used by permission. From 'skinnyde' on Flickr.

Seat position? Check.

Mirrors? Check.

Hands at ten-and-two? Check.

Pedals from left-to-right: clutch, brake, gas. Check.

Herd of cattle in the middle of the road? Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. Check. (There were
quite a few cows present.)

I was at the very beginning of my adventure of being a driver. I don’t even know that I had a Learner’s Permit yet, but our family friend, Albert, was going to spend a few minutes with me while I played my hand at driving his aged and well- loved Chevy S-10 pickup. We were on a quiet dirt road behind my grandparents’ place and it was time to test my standard-transmission-driving mettle. It was a perfect day for a drive.

Except, of course, for the dozens of cattle lazily staring at the white half-ton truck and its occupants.

I would begin to move forward and then stop. Start. Stop. Start. Stop. The cycle repeated itself as I tried to intimidate our cud-chewing companions.

Albert was patient.

For a while.

The cows in the road were distracting me. They were big. They were stupid. And they were in the road. One of those cows would easily be victorious in a ‘Half-ton Pickup Truck vs. Bessie the Cow’ match; forget trying to take on the entire herd before us. This wasn’t my truck and I hoped Albert would let me drive it again sometime—but if our adventure together resulted in a cow-shaped dent on the vehicle, I had a feeling no further opportunities would be coming my way.

Start. Drive a little. Get too close to cows. Stop.

What was I to do? Honking the horn didn’t work–the animals didn’t even flinch. Should I get out of the truck, wave my arms, and try to ‘shoo’ them (they outnumbered me…and maybe that’s what they were waiting for before making their ‘move’)? What about trying to identify their leader and negotiate a settlement with these bovine invaders: you move off the road and we won’t barbecue anything but chicken for the rest of the year? I hoped Albert would just drive the truck to some other cattle-free lane and I could try my hand at driving there.

But then Albert gave me some of the most important advice anybody has ever given me when it comes to life and leadership. I didn’t believe him at first. In fact, I thought it was the dumbest thing I’d ever heard. His advice was counter-intuitive and, from my perspective, possibly an invitation for an insurance claim. But he insisted, and I was amazed when I actually did what he instructed.

He told me,

“Just keep moving; they’ll get out of the way.”

Rather than stopping because I saw the obstacle, I continued to move ahead…and the cows cleared the way. They didn’t want to be hit by the little white truck any more than I wanted the little white truck to hit them.

Now, I know it’s a simple story—and probably reveals a little too much about my upbringing—but I wonder how many times we’ve stopped in our tracks or changed course in our life journey because of an obstacle that lays ahead when if we had just kept moving, we would have discovered the ‘obstacle’ wasn’t has scary or formidable as we had first thought.

No, not every difficult situation or obstacle we’re confronted with can be overcome just by continuing to blindly move forward; there are times when continuing on a chosen path can bring destruction and the obstacles mean we really do need to re-think our next step. But do me a favor and reflect about what obstacle lies in your path today when it comes to your plans for the future, your desires for your family, the activities of your job, the current state-of-affairs at your church, or even the dream God has placed deep in your heart. Maybe that obstacle is nothing more than a ‘herd of cattle,’ and you should heed Albert’s advice: Just keep moving. They’ll get out of the way.

In Encouragement, Leadership Encouragement, Leadership

Good Friday, Indeed.

April 10, 2009 — Leave a comment

From Theodore the Studite:

How precious the gift of the cross, how splendid to contemplate! In the cross there is no mingling of good and evil, as in the tree of paradise: it is wholly beautiful to behold and good to taste. The fruit of this tree is not death but life, not darkness but light. This tree does not cast us out of paradise, but opens the way for our return.

This was the tree on which Christ, like a king on a chariot, destroyed the devil, the lord of death, and freed the human race from his tyranny. This was the tree upon which the Lord, like a brave warrior wounded in his hands, feet and side, healed the wounds of sin that the evil serpent had inflicted on our nature. A tree once caused our death, but now a tree brings life. Once deceived by a tree, we have now repelled the cunning serpent by a tree. What an astonishing transformation! That death should become life, that decay should become immortality, that shame should become glory! Well might the holy Apostle exclaim: Far be it from me to glory except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world! The supreme wisdom that flowered on the cross has shown the folly of worldly wisdom’s pride. The knowledge of all good, which is the fruit of the cross, has cut away the shoots of wickedness.

In Easter, Encouragement Easter, Encouragement