The Osteen Video

Really pondering more about the current Osteen's video that is making the rounds on social media. - Some are being as gracious as possible, some not. - I don't know the Osteens. We've never met. I've never been to their home, never sat in his office, never had a cup of coffee with him. We've never had a conversation. I say that to say that I have no platform on which to speak of motive that they may or may not work from. - But I do say this. They are intentionally deceiving thousands of people OR they have been deceived and are deceiving thousands of people without realizing it. Either way, I don't see truth in what they teach. (Now before supporters bring me instances of things that he may have said that were true, please don't. I'm not saying that he has never said anything that is true; however, the doctrinal and theological platform that he espouses is false.) - I'm not one to often use labels on people, but what she proclaimed in that video is false. It props up the idol of self. There is NO Biblical backing for what she said. If you are a fan of theirs, I would exhort you in the name of Christ; examine what they say compared to the Bible. Be a student of the Word. Be able to, with sensitivity from the Holy Spirit and guided by the truth of the Bible, identify error and falsehood and cling tightly to the truth. - He may be a great motivational speaker and that is fine; but a preacher and teacher of the scripture, he doesn't appear to be.

 When people have asked me "What do I think of Joel Osteen?" I tell them I don't know him. He seems like a really nice guy, but like I said, I've never met him. Then the inevitable eye-roll comes and they ask me what I think of his teaching/writing. I've never read one of his books. (I don't need to know how to feel better about myself. I struggle enough with pride.) I'd rather spend that time looking at what the Bible tells me God says about me. As a preacher, I've got about this (...) much time to listen to preachers on tv and Osteen NEVER TEACHES ME ANYTHING except how to have a positive metal attitude and about how something new and better is coming my way.

Tell that to my brothers and sisters in Christ who will die tomorrow for their faith. Yes, eternity is coming their way, but I don't think that is what Joel is talking about.

Tell that to my brothers and sisters in Christ who share our faith but not our freedom and who will hide tomorrow instead of worship in a stadium.

Tell that to my deceived and spiritually immature brothers and sisters who are rolling in it and assume that God is blessing them and the sketchy way they do business b/c of the financial results. 

Tell that to millions of believers in the world who pray not that they will avoid persecution but rather that their backs will be strong in withstanding it.

 So I guess, no. I don't like his teaching. And if he isn't a false teacher in our day, I'd say he's as close as we've got.

A Love for Obedience

Yesterday was one of those days as a parent. Things didn't go as they say they should in all the parenting books. Actuallly they were very much the opposite. I gave instruction of a couple age appropriate chores for the kids to do. I insured that clear and God-honoring communication had taken place and that the children understood what was expected of them. I had kindly reminded them what they were to do and had given ample and reasonable time for their obedience. Imagine my surprise when all the strategies of the books didn't seem to be agreeable to all of our kids. In order to maintain my composure and to not be given to a fit of anger when I discovered the tasks not being started, much less completed; I went outside and sat on a tree stump by the vegetable garden. While I sat and prayed (and steamed a bit) one of my younger sons came outside. He came to my side, laid his head on my shoulder, and sighed. I am not a man who fears or is uncomfortable with physical affection from my childen. I hug and kiss them daily. I high-five my boys and hold hands with my daughter. Physical affection as an expression of love is a regular and daily reality in our home. However, in that moment I didn't want a hug from my son. I didn't merely want his affection. What I wanted was his obedience. So I told him that. I told him how much I love him (a fact he alreay knew with great certainty); however, in that moment affection was not a substitute for obedience. I love his hugs. I love his affection. However,I do not want it as a substitute for his obedience. I want his obedience as an expression of his love for me, as an expression of his affection for me. My concern is that this is the way that many (and at times I would/must admit I am guilty as well) treat a relationship with God. We run to express our affection through worship. We eagerly jump at the chance for the next worship event, but cringe at the thought of what may be perceived as difficult obedience. Obedience that costs us. Obedience that puts us at odds with our own desire. For this is the love of God, that we keep his commandments. And his commandments are not burdensome. (1 John 5:3 ESV) Indeed, we show our love for God in worship. It is certainly appropriate that we shower Him with affection. It us good and right that we as God's children would enjoy singing praises to Him in worship; both individually and corporately. But in the same way we cannot deny our love for Him in disobedience. A healthy relationship with God requires both obedience and affection. May we sing and serve with equal vigor. Brothers and sisters, may we pour out our love for our Father in abundance through obedience and worship. fs

FREE Sweet Potatoes and the gospel...really?

This morning I had the pleasure of having coffee with a brother at a local coffee establisment. We exchanged the usual pleasantries and then moved into more of the purpose of our meeting and conversation. As the purposeful business-like portion of our conversation moved toward its conclusion we began to discuss more important matters like my friend's upcoming trip and the places he and his beloved would see on their journey.

WHEN ALL OF THE SUDDEN...(caps to add emphasis and drama) we were interrupted by a wonderfully excited woman who had embodied the role of the mouthpiece of declaration for the opportunity to collect FREE SWEET POTATOES. Apparently, just around the corner, behind another business establishment, a church was giving away sweet potatoes. Neither I nor my coffee companion had opportunity to pursue further information about this potential sweet potato score that I would have deemed necessary to partake in the veggie jackpot; i.e. the source of said free sugary spuds, the trip they had endured to reach their destination and the sanitation status of their mode of transport, and other less important tidbits. I had no opportunity because the bearer of the bounty had already moved to three other tables by the time I realized I wasn't on a hidden camera show and that she was serious. Not only serious, but she had apparently taken it upon herself to inform EVERYONE in the place of the opportunity they were missing because of their current business. The status of conversation mattered not to my ysm informant. Business meetings had to be interrupted, casual conversation was no match for the vigor with which the potato proclaimer conveyed her message of hope for all those who were currently lacking in sweet potato potential or possession. PEOPLE MUST HEAR THE GOOD NEWS OF FREE SWEET POTATO OPPORTUNITY THAT WAS JUST AROUND THE CORNER!!

I admit that in that moment this morning, my friend and I did more chuckling that considering. We were neither one in the market this morning for sweet potatoes. We weren't looking for the opportunity for sweet potatoes. I was merely amused by someone who was so wonderfully excited about the potential that someone, anyone who was willing, had the chance to enjoy free yams.

But as I consider the event, I am moved to more serious matters. My life is no better or worse because of a lack of sweet potatoes. But I am encouraged by the enthusiasm of the messenger I encountered this morning. While I am not sold on the method of communication, I cannot fault her in energy, enthusiasm, and engagement. She had a message and people needed to know. I think we as Christ followers can learn a lesson by my yam fan encounter this morning. We have information that people need to hear. People need to know of the truth of the gospel. People are sitting in contexts and circumstances unaware that God loves them and that Jesus died in their place to take the punishment for their sin. We've been given the mandate to be the one who will go and tell.

So thank you unknown person for your willingness to step into people's circumstance and share some good news of something that was freely available to them; for in that, God used you to remind me and cause me to consider again the message with which I've been entrusted. Eternally Good News, that all need to hear...

The Land of My Sojourn (From several years ago)

Today is September 12, 2006. Five years post 9/11 but that is not what this is really about. September 12, 2006 is 8 weeks from what we’ve come to know as mid-term elections.

Election time each year always brings me to an acute awareness of my growing discomfort here. Not here in America. I do believe that we live in the greatest country in the world. What I do not believe, and my confession of this fact betrays my Southern upbringing, is that we are God’s favorite or His chosen people. The reality of the opulence of our country reminds my of the truth that to whom much is given much is required. And the stark veracity is that we’ve been given much in the way of freedom and resource and we’ve not made good use. But that is for another blog. Let’s get back to my discomfort.

The discomfort I feel “here” is just that. Here. In this world. In this frail, fragile, fallible body. Just HERE. Here, where people fly planes into buildings. Here where people still get cancer and still in the light of great faith and love for and from God still die. Here, where people just have to deal with all the stuff that muddles our days. Loneliness, poverty, wealth, business, having too little time or too much, remembering and forgetting and wishing we could just do more of the other. Sticky little hands that just want to touch your face. Small, innocent faces that greet you in the morning, and the beautiful face that tells you goodnight. The thrill of seeing people move from death to life and the heartache of watching people walk through the valley of the shadow of death. Walking the tightrope between where you are and where you wish you could be. The urge and ache to be part of something huge and world changing woven into the tension of the minutia and mundane of the everyday. Just life as we remember it. The good, the bad, and the rest…just life. The highs and lows, the pitfalls and props of people who are created for eternity who for a time are bound to a fallen world and fallen bodies that will one day be built for glory.

That is why this time of the year brings this sensitivity to the fact that we should be somewhat discontent here. This isn’t home. Each time I go into the voting booth I am reminded that I am voting as a resident alien. Not politically, but spiritually. This world is not my home. I love my wife and children and the life that God has given me here, but there is a nagging part of my heart that will always be discontent here, because this is not home. This is indeed the land of my sojourn. It is the here and now, even though it is not the now and forever. So while I am wrapped in this flesh and subject to all the gripes and grace that comes with it, I’ll walk in the joy that comes in being a bit homesick, knowing that when this tent collapses and I jump off the ledge that is this world into eternity there is a loving God who will be there to catch me as faithful Father, just as I catch my three when they jump to me. Only He’s a much better catcher than I.

My New Little Friend

I was sitting at my office annex (commonly referred to as Starbucks) this morning, diligently working on my schedule and planning. With laptop open and i-pod ear-buds proclaiming that I was fully engrained in “do not disturb” mode, I hardly noticed that they were there. I hardly noticed until their presence was unavoidable.

They were two young ladies, twenty-somethings, who according to their t-shirts work at a local fast food chain. Accompanying them this morning was a little boy who I learned was almost two. I was aware of his presence because he proceeded to join me at my workstation (a.k.a. “table). He could not have cared less that I was fully engrained in “do not disturb” mode. He was in the usual mode for a two-year-old boy, which amounts to “there is something at that table that looks like I could break so I must go near it and see”. As a former two-year-old boy and as the father of three of these wonderfully created creatures myself, I have a great appreciation for the two-year-old boy and the world of lessons one can learn from them.

…this one was unexpected.

The usual suspects at the office annex are people like me. We gather there as the closest of strangers and share in the pursuit of laptops and coffee. We work intently and tenaciously to complete the things that comprise our lists for the day. These are the things that consume our time and energy and resource to fulfill our requirements for success in a given 24-hour period.

My interruption’s agenda was different. In the midst of my business, his agenda was “I am here and I’ll require your attention for the next few moments”. I do admit that much of my initial attention was given because of what appeared to be of the remnants an oatmeal-raisin cookie that was dangerously close to my day-timer and laptop. This reality was fleeting. My attention soon moved from my obsessive-compulsive need to remain in the realm of the “non-sticky” to the reality that there was this little person that simply wanted to engage in conversation and relationship. The fact that I couldn’t understand what he was saying mattered only to me. He talked and pointed and in his mind made perfect sense. It wasn’t his fault that I only speak the dialect of two-year old that originates in my own home.

But as quickly as he came he was gone. Mom had to get to work, he had an important 10 o’clock with Clay at day-care. I had to get back to my planning. The moment had run its course.

The lesson is simple. Take a moment to listen to the wisdom of a cookie covered two year old. He may teach you more that you think you need to know about reality. You really do have the time. The world and your agenda can wait a moment. You’re not that important. Trust me… and my new little friend.

Wow,...amazed by the level of my own envy...

I just watched a vid posted on Christine Dente's FB profile of her and Scott (her husband - together Out of the Grey for those who don't know) playing and singing an acoustic version of one of their songs. Just the two of them infront of a computer (certainly a mac) with her incredible voice and Scott doing his thing on guitar. - I say I can play guitar until I see someone like that do what they do. I own a guitar upon which I can play chords and some notes; but what he does is PLAY guitar. - I would love to be able to do what he does; but it isn't the case.

I love to see people do exactly what they were made by God to do. Clearly Scott is meant to play and Christine sing; God's plan for me is different. While I love to play and sing, I love more to teach. I'm better at it. I feel more comfortable in that area; but I still find myself watching and listening to people like Out of the Grey (of whom I've been a fan for years) and being terribly envious of their ability.

Maybe one day I'll be content to be who God has made me and enjoy and celebrate my brothers and sisters and their gifts and talents without envy. Maybe one day I'll get to the place where I can quote another artist who I envy, Wes King, and "accept who you are but keep striving to become that which you've been declared."

No more Christian Culture...

I just finished reading one of my favorite blogs
(www.stuffchristianslike.net by Jon Acuff)and in it his guest blogger used the phrase "Christian culture" in a way that did not describe me or most of the Christians that I know and regularly associate with (not that I intentionally disassocaite from other Christ followers, but just not everyone of us travel in the same circles, right?)

But as I read I just realized that I don't think we can use the term "Christian cuture" accurately anymore. Several years ago we were the "Christian Sub-culture", existing in the underlayers of actual culture, as if in a galaxy far, far away. Realizing that we'd become quite a voting block we made the switch and demanded to be recognized as ACTUAL culture, not culture's little brother. As the switch was made we appeared to be content to be lumped together in one box labled Christian Culture.

BUT I SAY NO MORE!! - Well, maybe with less emphasis. I've just always had some personal issue with our culture's tendency to assume certain things are true about someone because of their particular label. I do know several Democrats who are pro-life, want small government, and are gun owners, and really really do love Jesus. (I know that I paint with a large brush there but there is indeed an assumption of stance determined by political party). Just because I am a Christ follower doesn't mean that I fit someone's personal expectation based on their previous experience with other followers of Jesus.

So then, what do we do? This could be quite a cultural pickle. - I guess we just have to follow the lead of Jesus who really appeared to be about people. You know, how He would come into town and actually talk to them. Eat with them. Engage them personally. I love that about our Saviour. He is relational. It appeared that He really loved, and liked, people.

I love to sit with a coffee (preferably venti Sumatra, black and if possible the first cup from the pot; or a french press of Kitamu or Sidamo - See, not all coffee drinkers are the same), and hear someone's story. To hear what God is doing in that person's life, or if they aren't a Christ follower, how they've come to that place. It is amazing how listening suddenly gives you a platform to share then about yourself, how you got to where you are, and often times to tell the beautiful truth of the gospel. Just as people tend to label all Christians the same way, often times unChristians do just that (read UnChristian if you don't believe me), we Jesus followers do the same to them. Not all Un-Christ followers are pro-choice, drunkards, promiscuious, pro-LGBT, or athiests. They may not even be anti-Jesus or the anti-church. But unless we engage in a way to be heard, we'll never know. We'll just give them a lable and expect them to wear it and move on.

Listening, loving, learning, and leading instead of labels defining. Maybe the birth of a new (or actually very old) Christian culture?

(No time to proofread, Mr. Mom today. Feel free to inform me of any mistakes. :))