Liminality

Christmas is the moment when Jesus breaks through the barriers of sin, doubt, hurt, and guilt to declare with his presence – that God is and forever will be among us. I John says that everyone who loves experiences this Jesus, for Jesus is God and God is love. Every child, murderer, school teacher, convict, secretary, homeless person, drug addict, homosexual, left-handed, left-minded, liberal democrat as well as every right-handed, right-leaning, republican experiences Jesus Christ. Every choir member, single mother with three kids, divorced father who looses parental custody, and widower experiences the birth child. Every Muslim, politician, social worker, farmer, businessman, Israeli, stock broker, hair dresser, and Palestinian experiences God’s surrendered love. Christmas is all about the incarnation of Jesus. It’s about heaven breaking in to earth and never leaving, the inauguration of the kingdom, and our lives being redeemed. It’s about love. Each of

When I was in Ecuador there was limited electricity where we were. It gets so dark there that you literally can’t see your hand in front of your face. There aren’t houses that cast lights from windows, or street lamps on the corners of the road. There is just blackness. So I carried a head lamp to go walk about after dark. That light was a light that outshined the darkness. It laid a path for me to tread. I loved that headlamp. But it only shined about fifteen feet. So I had no clue what lied beyond me at sixteen feet. I learned quite quickly, even with a light, the darkness is a scary place. When we find ours elves in dark nights – nights of the soul and nights in life – the light of God helps, but our minds still hold the capacity to convince us that we still are not safe. Think about it, when a person loses a loved one to cancer, a car wreck, gang related violence – holding on to the light is good but it doesn't speak to the situation at hand. Darknes

Human perception embraces ideas about reality. The key word here is idea. People see a water bottle and then construct a reality about the essence of what the water bottle should be. The problem, however, is that people’s perception is not always correct. To illustrate this point, Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh tells a story of a man who crashes and almost sinks his boat by being run into by another boat. The man becomes furious at the other driver until he realizes there is no one in the other boat. The man then stops being angry and laughs at his misfortune. This story illustrates humanity’s inevitability to misperceive reality. Misperception garners hatred and severs peaceful relationships. It is what leads humans to hating one another instead of being peace to one another. Misperception is a serious reason for violence. It qualifies misunderstanding which creates room for anger – and anger is the doorpost that leads to violence. The answer f

In John 20 Thomas is blinded by his search for communion. He needs wholeness. He needs care. He needs to know what he is supposed to live for now – since Jesus abandoned him. And in the midst of this ontological anxiety, Thomas meets the resurrected Jesus who breathes the breath of the Holy Spirit on him and says, “Peace be with you.” I believe it is in the midst of our crises God meets us in this same way. God’s presence in our lives is a holy moment, a thin space of divinity, where we feel God reconnecting, reuniting, and re-communing with us. It’s where the Holy Spirit is saying to us, “Peace – be still.” So if you feel alone, please know that God is trying to re-commune with you. But I know our fear of abandonment and rejection is so intense that our search for communion is often replaced by a longing for concrete expressions of friendship or affection. We want deep communion, but we end up looking for invitations, letters, phone calls, gifts, and worldly gest

As Christians we have the joy and responsibility this Advent season to take that which we were made for (heaven) to all that we meet. We get to bring heaven to those who need it. This, however, is very hard for us because we are not trained to think of heaven. Instead, we think about Sunday afternoon naps, football, buying new electronics on Black Friday, watching the sunrise with a blanket and a cup of Joe, or eating ice cream on the beach. But heaven, well that is strange for us to think about. I guess it is because we are so removed from the notion that Jesus might actually come back – we look to meet our needs elsewhere. If Matthew 24:36 tells us anything . . . it tells us that we as Christians should be the most concerned about heaven. For it could appear in its entirety any day. Yet this is the problem with Western Christianity. We’ve lost sight of heaven. We don’t think about it. We don’t treat our days with the abandonment it deserves. We don’t a

Over the past semester I have been consumed with different voices of nonviolence. This past month I came across an advocacy group known as Two Futures Project. Their mission is to stop the spread of nuclear weapons and to get states to disarm the current ones. Their website is http://twofuturesproject.org/ . Here is a synopsis from their website on why it is important for Christians to care about the non-proliferation of nuclear weapons: There are an estimated 20,000 nuclear weapons in the world today. Russia and the United States of America share roughly 95% of them. The United Kingdom, France, and China have several hundred while Israel, India and Pakistan come in a close third. North Korea is next with a handful of nuclear weapons and about three dozen countries have adequate, manufacturing facilities. In short, planet Earth is full of pointed bombs that contain life-altering, world-ending power. A nuclear bomb is relatively small by modern measurements. But its size h

In the late 1300s Geoffrey Chaucer coined the phrase, “All good things must come to an end.” This phrase means more to me right now than it ever has before. This week is my last week as pastor at Union Baptist Church in Pine Mountain, Georgia. Out of all my accomplishments, opportunities, and memories, pastoring UBC has been one of, if not, the best. For three years I have traveled alongside this community of grace through celebrations such as birthday parties, weddings, worship services, homecomings, Fall Festivals, baptisms, and so much more. I have also traveled alongside more sincere moments of pain, tragedy, and anguish; for I have counseled families through deaths, hardships, work-related problems, spirit-related inquiries, sadness, depression, anger, surgeries, confusion, and even wonderment. Collectively, these shared stories, these real and emotionally significant memories, have shaped who I am and how I see myself in the world. This decision to leave UBC do

It was my junior year at Belmont. All of us baseball players just got out of practice and were coming out of the locker rooms when we decided to go into the basketball arena to watch the Atlantic Sun Women’s Volleyball Tournament. Belmont was hosting the tourney and we knew that our girls were playing. We walked in and sat right on the floor. I noticed that Belmont was up and it was game point in the third game (best out of five) and Belmont had taken the first two games. This meant that the upcoming point was match point, and the opposing team was serving. And a time-out was called on the court. I found a roster for both teams lying on the ground; I picked it up and began to look over the names for the opposing team. I found who I was looking for. Somebody’s precious little daughter was serving. And she was a senior. I realized at that moment if this little sweetheart loses this point the match and her career are both over. A hush fell over the crowd as the sw

One day in college (I remember this vividly) I was overcome with sins of the world and sins of my flesh. It was a Saturday afternoon, and I found myself weeping on my knees on the floor of my freshman dorm. With a tearful prayer I looked up to God and said, “I can’t keep living this way. I need you. I want you.” I can’t adequately express to you the rush of emotion I felt at that moment, but in not enough words, I felt as if something that was holding me down was released. I felt forgiven. I felt redeemed. Is this redemption? Does God intersect with humanity on a spiritual, interior level? Over eight months ago one of the most horrific natural disasters occurred in my lifetime. Haiti was hit by a devastating earthquake and then another demoralizing aftershock. Hundreds of thousands of people killed. Thousands of people injured. Houses blown down. Capital city and governmental buildings destroyed. People smashed under rubble. It’s horrifying from every angle. Wh

David Kelsey, Professor of Theology at Yale Divinity School, asks a very simple, yet tormentingly powerful question: What earthly difference can Jesus make here? I’m in my eighth year of higher theological education; attempting to complete my third degree that carries theological weight; I’ve been ordained by and am pastoring a community of grace and together we help each other discern how to partner with God in the ongoing creation of the world. We claim our allegiance to a king and to a kingdom. We sing and pray to the God of the Universe. We pray intercessory prayers expecting this God to affect us, move us, change us, encourage us, sit with us, help us, and love us. Our theology is biblical. Our effort is true. Yet at the core of who I am . . . the center of my being I keep asking the question: What earthly difference can Jesus make here? I think about the woman who found out her husband (the man who was supposed to be her best friend and confidant) cheating on her wi

Here she is pleading before the heartless, faithless judge . . . widowed, alone, and in desperate need for help. In the Levitical Law, communities are supposed to rally around widows and help support them, vindicate them. The early church is supposed to allow widows to live in the courtyards and buildings of the sanctuaries and use tithing to purchase food, water, and daily goods. But our widow in Luke 18 isn’t getting any of these things. The religious community doesn’t recognize her humanity, and she’s just unfortunate enough to be in the one town where the judge hates God and couldn’t care less for the vitality of humanity. In other words, our widowed woman needs help, needs relief, needs God. It’s almost unimaginable to be where this widow is. She has no husband. No family. No money. No land. No future. No promise. No life. Her faith tells her she has rights to her basic needs. But those have been stricken from her too. And God seems nowhere to be found. Wha

This week the Associated Press released an article stating that a Southern Baptist leader does not believe Yoga reflects anything Christian. Click here  to read the article.  I am not interested in arguing with this article but rather raising a point of interest. How could anything that helps authentically channel you towards the divine be unChristian? And why is it bad to use outside religious forms of meditation to help enhance our experience with the Holy? When did Christianity put parameters on prayer? When did adjusting into a downward dog become a religious, yet anti-Christian, practice? I submit that it is not. Yoga - although not created to be a Christian, spiritual practice - can be an incredible catalyst in helping one center their heart, mind, body, and soul in order to focus more intently upon God. Engaging in Yoga does not mean you are anti-Christian. It means you are stretching. Yoga can be an awesome tool to help one experience silence and meditation. And

We’ve all seen this man. He sits on street corners and uses newspapers for insulation. He sleeps under the bridge to stay out of the way of the wind and the rain. He stands on the off-ramps holding a sign. He’s a nuisance. He’s going to ask for money. He has sores. He’s unkempt. He’s dangerous. He’s other. What if he tries to attack me? What if he wants my car? What if I talk to him but I can’t help? What if I realize he’s crazy? What if he smells? What if he touches me? What if he sees me looking? What if he sees me turn away? What if he hears my car door lock? What if . . . In Atlanta alone there are over 50,000 men like this. They sleep where they can stay warm. They eat what’s available. They are poor. They are dirty. They have sores. But they are also someone’s brother. Someone’s son. Someone’s friend from second grade. They have a favorite color and a memory of childhood they never seem to forget that only makes them laugh when remember

Luke 13 is a parable that penetrates the Christian hearts of past generations and surely will for ones to come. It carries with it an alluring application. It is truth, but it is truth that is masked in the social dimensions of first century Palestine. Once upon a time there was a rich man who had a dishonest, household slave (i.e. Luke 16:1-13; it’s worth reading). The landowner finds his manager has done shady business deals but instead of becoming inflamed and firing him on the spot while demanding reimbursement, the shrewd landowner commends his servant for a job well done. Scripture concludes our story by saying: And I tell you, make friend for yourselves by means of dishonest wealth so that when it is gone, they may welcome you into the eternal homes. (Luke 13:16, NRSV) What?!?! How is this parable in the Bible? Keep in mind Jesus is talking to the disciples only. Jesus himself is being quite shrewd by telling his disciples that true living; true followership

Sometimes one person’s celebration can be really annoying for you, especially if you don’t understand the reason for the party. And this was the case for the Pharisees and Scribes in Luke 15. The three parables, lost sheep, lost coin, and prodigal son, are told because Jesus is making a habit of having parties with all the ‘wrong’ people, and some thought it was a nightmare. Throughout Luke 15 we witness how Jesus responds to “the least of these” and, perhaps, how we should too. At the heart of the trouble is the character of the people Jesus is eating with on a regular basis. The tax-collectors are disliked not just because they are tax-collectors – nobody much likes them in any culture – but because they are collecting money for either Herod or the Romans, or both, and nobody cared for them at all. And if they are in regular contact with the Gentiles, some might have considered them unclean. Sinners are disliked because they are considered to be unclean. (N.T. Wright)

Humanity, to me, is made in the image of God yet is sinful but renewed in Christ. Being created in the image of God means humans find identity in each other. To take it even further (since I am a Christian), I believe there is a connection made among all humans who seek identity in Christ to be in community with one another in mutual love. Anthropology, therefore, carries with it a significant sociological function. To be fully human is to bear the image of Christ in community. But I also believe the world carries with it an ontological anxiety that comes from a sense of fallenness and an utter sense of lack. Rene Girard, a philosophical anthropologist, calls this sense of lack the Mimetic Desire. He argues that because of humanity’s fundamental lack we are all forced to settle for cheap imitations of fulfillment. Communities (although they attempt to be Christlike) are formed around cheap fulfillment options and inevitably developed charged emotions against other commu

Service is offering someone who is need of what it is you have to give. When I was in high school I was a part of the National Honors Society. To this day I have no idea what that did for me. I know during each summer in high school in order to keep my society status I had to complete ten hours of community service. I would pick up trash around the ball fields, mow for the city – since my best friend’s dad was the mayor – and referee girl’s little league basketball games at their summer camps. Each summer I performed these duties just to keep some arbitrary yet signifying status. And honestly, I hated it. I only did these things to keep my rankings in the National Honor’s Society. If Christians today aren’t careful we too will fall into a similar pattern I fell into in high school. Doing service projects to keep face, to maintain a reputable status, or to hopefully keep some salvific option open for later in life is at best misguided and truthfully pathetic. Service

In a tired and almost last breath, Jesus looks up after hours of hanging on the cross and says to Mary and the Beloved disciple, “Woman, here is your son; friend, here is now your mother.” Seconds before Jesus’ death, the author of the gospel of John has Jesus saying to Mary and the Beloved disciple that they are now family. Think about it for a moment – after being tortured, flogged, spat upon, head crushed, ribs broken, side punctured, hands nailed, feet smashed, and body bruised – our Lord looks up with the energy of one more breath to say one more thing and it is important, it is direct, it is for us to hear. And so in that sacred moment Jesus says, “Woman, here is now your son; friend, here is your mother.” From a social standpoint I will concede that this doesn’t make sense. Maybe if the woman were Jesus’ wife and the man was Jesus’ younger brother we could see such a moment take place with Jesus saying, “Brother, this woman is now your wife.” But that’s not what is

Just think of what a refrain will do – consider some examples. Fred Craddock in one of his famous stories reminds us of the old saloon song “Frankie and Johnny.” Listen to the function of the refrain. Frankie, she was a good woman, and Johnny, he was her hand. He was her man, but he done her wrong. Frankie and Johnny went walking, Johnny wore a new linen suit. ‘Cost me a hundred,’ said Frankie, ‘but don’t my Johnny look cute?’ He was her man, but he done her wrong. Frankie went down to the corner, and she ordered a thimble of gin. She said to the fat bartender, ‘Has my lovin’ Johnny been in?’ He was her man, but he done her wrong. ‘Ain’t gonna tell you no story, ain’t gonna tell you no lie. Johnny was here about an hour ago with a floozy named Nellie Bly’. He was her man, but he done her wrong. I’m not going to go through the entire song – it’s in the Methodist Hymnal, so you can find the words. The refrain, though, creates anticipation; it builds to the fact itself.

Jesus wants us to walk with God. I started thinking about this idea of walking and realized over 240 times the Bible either illustrates or commands God’s people to walk. God walked among us in the Garden of Eden. Enoch in Genesis 5 is said to have walked with God for 300 years. Noah in Genesis 6 walked with God. God commands the Israelites to walk the land of milk and honey. Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, Jacob, Joseph all walked with God. When God parted the Red Sea the Israelites walked out of Egypt. Time and time again we see an illustration of how God’s people never stop walking. They press forward. They move ahead. They further the story. They further the journey. Micah 6:8 says that which we must do beyond all other things is “walk humbly.” Leviticus 26:12 has God saying, “I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people.” Even God is in on this action of walking. God walks. We walk. Together we are growing and learning and studying and praying a

"Grow with a growth that is from God." (Col 2:19, NRSV) I love this phrase. Its a challenge from the author to the Colossian church to never ever stop growing, learning, studying, reading, praying, probing, thinking, interrogating, believing, inquiring, prying, analyzing, questioning, learning, building, and trying. And coming from a guy who never wants to NOT be in school, it makes sense I would love this portion of the text. But there’s more here than my narcissistic admiration. It’s a call to become more. Become better. Become more godly. More holy. More spiritual. Its time for us and Christians all over this world to hear this message: “We must never stop growing with the growth that is from God.” It’s a common misunderstanding really . . . people believe once they emerge from the rolling waters of the baptismal pool that Christianity, eternity, life and access to all measures of love are somehow miraculously obtained. This is simply not tru

Jesus is resting comfortably in his newly acquired friends’ home. In it is bookoos of people. And as always, people are gleaning as much information from Jesus as humanly possible. Except Martha. She’s working. She’s serving. She’s playing the role of host and is on her feet serving drinks, appetizers, entrées, brewing coffee, cleaning up spills, and doing it all with a smile on her face. Until she sees her sister Mary. This is Mary’s house too. Martha shouldn’t be the only one breaking her neck for her guests and she knows it. Half of this labor is Mary’s to do. The trash is piling up and the guests are going through cups like babies do with diapers. And there is clearly not going to be enough brochette to serve everyone. And all she can witness is her sister sit out there in the living room as if she were one of the guys. So in a fit of panic Martha bumps her way to the coffee table, puts down another round of drinks for the boys, and bent over she catches J

Most people argue the Bible says very little about the eradication of slavery. As most of you know, the New Testament can be read as literature that supports the issue of slavery. The most popular text is found in Philemon with Paul giving orders for a slave to return to his slave master. Jesus even uses parables that discuss kings and masters who own slaves. For the longest time, Southern American preachers saw the Bible as the leading defense in the argument for slavery. But the prophet Amos sees differently. Amos is an eighth century prophet speaking to Israel about how they have fallen away from God’s ordered life. As a matter of fact, Amos condemns Israel for the practice of human trafficking. Amos tells Israel, This is what the LORD says: For three sins of Israel, even for four, I will not turn back {my wrath}. They sell the righteous for silver, and the needy for a pair of sandals. They trample on the heads of the poor as upon the dust of the ground and deny

In all probability, as Jesus grew up in Nazareth, he heard his own father and the other men of the synagogue pray every morning, Praise be God that he has not created me a Gentile. Praise be God that He has not created me a woman. Praise be God that he has not created me a slave or an ignorant man. This form of thanksgiving was widely used in first century Palestine, and it reflects very clearly the social attitudes of that day. Obviously a free, Jewish male regarded himself as inherently superior to any other form of humanity, and this kind of prejudiced provincialism was the cultural atmosphere in which Jesus began to "live and move and have His being” as a child. And really, in all respects, you still hear this today. “God thanks for not making me grow up next to a Muslim family. God thanks for not making me like those people down the street. God thanks for letting me have a boy instead of a girl.” The prejudice that Jesus would have heard in the Temple 2000 years

At Pentecost stand all members of the “Jesus Movement”-- few in number and weak in voice. But out of the clouds come roars of sound and violent winds. Flames of all sizes appear and spread from one Jesus Freak to another. One by one they speak in the languages of every tribe. One by one they get the attention of the people. One by one they talk about God’s power and draw a crowd to hear God’s message. But not knowing whether to be horrified or astonished, antagonistic pilgrims hold up their hands and shout, “Wait a minute. Aren’t all of you Galileans? How in the world do we hear our native languages being spoken?” Then hostile skeptics in the back shout, “The pilgrims are right. These crazy fools, these disciples are all drunk!” What’s going on here? The pilgrim crowd is attacking the disciple’s home community. The skeptics are attacking the disciples’ character defects. Both groups are trying to dismiss the validity of the disciples’ message. Imagine you are standi