"Community" is a trendy Christian buzz word right now. Luckily, this - and other hot topics like social justice - are great trends in my mind, because it feels like we're getting more serious about actually reading what the bible commands and then looking at ourselves and our churches to see how well we're obeying. Just so long as we don't get so caught up in the ideas that we forget the bigger purpose behind them of making Christ known.
I think community has become a relevant topic to me because I see more and more how important it is - and how amazing it can be. Especially for an introvert who is not inclined towards living life in community. But what I'm referring to is not just small groups from church, or hanging out over coffee or a meal with friends - specifically I mean the type of community that is on mission together. The kind that exists when you all share a similar mindset, passion, purpose and calling. When that community spurs one another onto good deeds and lifts each other up when the vision and passion get lost in weariness or frustration.
Generally as Christians we connect well with other Christians, just as we do with people who enjoy playing the same sports that we do, or have the same political views or work in the same field. If we share a strong passion or belief about something important in our lives, we tend to form immediate bonds that are harder to forge with others outside of that 'circle'. But even more so, I am finding that the people I quickly and easily connect with - almost regardless of personality or background - are those who share a passion for serving the 'least of these' and are actually doing something with that passion. The more meaningful sharing and living my faith becomes to me, the more I care about the poor and needy out in the world who don't know the love of Jesus. So when I meet people with the same heart who are probably already doing way more than me, it's an enormous encouragement. I feel an instant bond and understanding when we talk. We get what each other is saying without having to say too much.
To drill down more, I've seen this truth play out in ministry. I've made some incredibly close friends doing Broken Hearts ministry in Hollywood. And even those I'm not as close with, I truly care about and relate to uniquely because we're out there working together for God and because of God. There is a pretty big range of personalities, some of which I wouldn't typically be drawn to or that can even rub me the wrong way (and me them, no doubt). But I've found that when there's tension and we work to get past it for the sake of our calling, I just love them that much more. And it never feels terribly hard to get past it because I have more patience and grace when I know their heart for serving God.
When I get frustrated or feel tired or overwhelmed with serving, I can look at these people and see that they're still going and it helps to keep me focused and encouraged. Hopefully I'm able to do the same for them. Hopefully we can all carry each other when things get tough. I think that's one of the biggest reasons for, and blessings of, community. To never grow tired of doing good; to run the race and fight the good fight.
I was amazed to see how powerful that bond is this week. I had a few days - and one in particular - that I was just tired of people. I didn't want to be around anyone, I just wanted to be quiet and be alone with God. No small talk, no long discussions, no mindless chatter or need to be social. I just wanted to be still and quiet and have some time to think. One of those fell on the night of prayer and worship that our church does, which my small group attends together. I wasn't looking forward to all of the people, but I also knew I'd have some good alone time there with God.
When the evening started, I sat quietly with my small group, my eyes closed to dwell on God and block out everything else. As worship continued I noticed two of my friends from ministry, one of them who rarely attends our church because he lives further away. I made a beeline to go say hi to them, and was actually a little surprised how excited I was to see them and greet them with hugs. I decided to stay with them for a bit, realizing we never really get the opportunity to worship in this way together. And standing there between them, it was like my annoyance with people and need to be secluded went away. While I was with my fellow laborers, I was totally content and excited to worship God in that micro-community.
The following night was Broken Hearts. After an hour of prayer together beforehand on behalf of Hollywood, our friends there, and each other, I ended up in a conversation with Jorge, one of the guys I'd seen at church the night before. He began sharing what he'd been thinking about and learning from reading scripture, and his hopes to move to Hollywood soon. Up until now, with the exception of our ministry leaders, I've felt alone in my desire to move to Hollywood to grow community there with the people we serve. As he shared his desire to follow Christ, to die to himself and his desires to make Christ known, and his wishes to live in the area where he's already making a huge impact, I resonated with much of what he said and felt. I couldn't help but smile as I listened and my heart began to soar. Knowing that our hearts are in a similar place and we both want to build the community in Hollywood gave me great joy and encouragement. Because knowing that many of us are working towards the same goal with similar vision means that more people can hear about Christ. That maybe more hope and salvation can come to Hollywood. When you're just a few people, and you walk or drive down those streets, it can be overwhelming how much work there seems to be done. But at the same time, it's exciting to think about the opportunity - when you cast your net in a big lake, with lots of hands to pull it in, the chances of catching something are much better.
I think this is what 'family of Christ' is really supposed to mean.
"Let us hold unswervingly to the hope we profess, for he who promised is faithful. And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds. Let us not give up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but let us encourage one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching." - Heb. 10:23-25
Saturday, August 22, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
If I___but have not love, I am nothing
I'll just start off acknowledging that this will not be my most brilliant post to-date. No original ideas or thought here. Simply pictures of an obvious truth that I think can be forgotten when sharing Christ. And pictures always make things much clearer and prove concepts very well, as they did for me this weekend.
Broken Hearts (the ministry I'm a part of) classifies itself as a 'relational evangelism ministry'. Meaning, we build relationships in order to share the gospel. We each have our unique ways of doing this - some are more bold and the first thing out of their mouth is about the gospel. Others spend weeks getting to know someone without saying a whole lot that's blatantly religious. But we all value being there every week to get to know people and tell them about Christ as we grow friendships and build trust in the community.
I'm fond of phrases like 'people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care' and 'preach the gospel at all times and when necessary use words' (which, just to clarify, is probably more often than not. Never giving a reason for the hope you have will not make disciples. And if people aren't asking, maybe we're not preaching the gospel with our actions). But it's just another concept that I assume in my head, thinking those phrases are true, but can't think of tons of examples to back them up, besides the crazy people on street corners with signs and microphones and seeing how people completely ignore them.
This week at Broken Hearts gave some proof to those concepts. We did an Exposure Night, where we invite anyone out who's interested in the ministry to join us and see what it's all about. A few of the people who came...well...didn't exactly have the most tact when sharing. Some common sense about people seemed to be lacking, and the concept of showing someone you care was absent. Now...some people can jump into a full-blown gospel presentation and have people crying and giving their lives to Jesus by the end without ever really knowing the person. Those are some seriously gifted individuals. But I haven't seen many pull that off well, and it didn't work that way this week. If I hadn't been so concerned with the relationships I'd been building, I would have found it just funny to see this all play out (ok, I still found it mildly funny).
There were 2 people in particular whose demeanor I saw completely change depending on who they were talking to. I had picked up conversation with a guy I've known for a few weeks, but when one of our visitors entered the conversation and began asking him if he knew about Jesus and going off with all the Christianese phrases, 'Rick' turned cold. He stopped looking this person in the eye, eyes kind of glazed over and stopped responding. And when asked a question, even if Rick didn't answer, this person just kept on going with what he wanted to say. Rick was clearly annoyed and eventually I stepped back in and tried to salvage the conversation.
I've talked with Rick a lot, as well as some others on our team have, and he loves talking to us and coming to bible study; he asked to take a bible home last week and continues to show interest. But when talking to this other person, he became unfriendly, disinterested, and annoyed. A few minutes of easing the tension and he warmed up again and said he'd like to go to church with me if I came to take him that Sunday.
A few minutes later I overheard this same guy talking to a girl standing at the bus stop where we were hanging out. She was staring straight ahead, focusing on the street in front of her and saying nothing to him. But he kept talking and talking. Yes, he was speaking truth and saying gospel messages, but she was entirely unresponsive and apparently turned off. It was stressing me out too much that I had to interrupt. I don't remember how, but I basically made my way into the conversation and within a few minutes, she was chatting with me, still not making much eye contact, but was chatting happily and laughing and answering my questions about herself. She told me that she'd met Michelle (another girl in BH) a few weeks before and was curious if she was there this evening. And by the end of the conversation, she joined us for bible study even though she was worried about missing her ride home. She borrowed my phone and called her ride so she could work out a meeting place and walked with us to find Michelle and say hi and then over to bible study with all of us.
My opinion is that some people may do this 'bold gospel sharing' and get so excited that they got to 'share' and attribute any rejection or lack of response to being hated by the world, or persecuted. And in some instances that's true. People don't always like the gospel message and we'll be hated at times for sharing it. It's also easy to swing the other way and be so relational and full of 'grace' that we never really get to the important stuff and people think Christians are just like everyone else, which may be equally dangerous. However these seemed to be some clear instances that, by just getting to know some people and showing interest in their lives, they're much more inclined to listen to you, care about what you have to say, and be willing to learn - or re-learn what they've rejected - as a result of someone caring. Especially in a place like Hollywood - they already have enough noise and people talking at them and so few people actually listening that they don't need one more voice telling them what to do.
No credit to me, but only to the method of being relational and caring, I could see clear changes in demeanor and openness when the conversation was relaxed and two-way, rather than being preached at. And both of these conversations ended with accepted invitations to church. They didn't seem to be rejecting the religious topics, just the method of the message.
Then today I was at The Hollywood Church ( http://www.thehollywoodchurch.com/) , because I had gone up to take 'Rick' (who didn't actually show up, but oh well). I recommend people to this church all the time, but haven't actually been before. I just know they have a passionate heart for the city and accept the people that some churches might make feel uncomfortable. I haven't experienced that many churches, but I feel like most of them don't look as much like the early church as we should. I think the Hollywood Church is doing a good job with this - living in Hollywood and focused on reaching those around them, welcoming all, participating with BH and helping us out, breaking bread together after church and not so massive that most people know each other within this church family.
I stuck around for lunch after the service and met a guy who was sitting next to me and we began talking about Broken Hearts. He expressed interest in coming, and talked about someone he'd talked to recently in the city who he'd had the opportunity to minister to. And near the end of the conversation (which included Bryan, one of the guys we've been discipling through BH), he offered his name and number to Bryan in case he ever wanted to hang out. Antquan and I had just been talking to another guy at church about getting Bryan more involved so he could meet more guys. And without knowing any of that or ever having met Bryan before, he just picked up on the shyness from Bryan and gave him his name and number let him know they could hang out anytime.
I don't remember what it was later as I was driving home that made me think this, but something made me realize, "I would listen to that guy. I would hear out his advice or wisdom. I would value what he had to say." I had only talked to him for 10 minutes or less. But I had seen several instances of his faith expressing itself in works and in love. I hardly knew anything about him, except that he'd tried to get to know us, and wanted to give of himself and his time for other people. And that made me think about others at the church who I've seen or heard of actually living out their faith and loving Hollywood. I'd pay attention to things they had to say. Heck, I already want to know more about their church and the people who make it up, because I see they love God and love people.
In general, I realize that I take opinions and wisdom from people who live what they believe, who don't pre-judge, who listen, who seek to understand and not just assume. Even if it's someone I know well, if I can tell they're not trying to understand me or my situatoin before they prescribe a solution, I take their advice very lightly unless it's confirmed by others I might trust more.
And now it's just that much clearer to me that it probably works similarly in all situations. If I don't show that I love a person, can I successfully share the hope that I have? Or am I just a noisy gong or clanging symbol?
Broken Hearts (the ministry I'm a part of) classifies itself as a 'relational evangelism ministry'. Meaning, we build relationships in order to share the gospel. We each have our unique ways of doing this - some are more bold and the first thing out of their mouth is about the gospel. Others spend weeks getting to know someone without saying a whole lot that's blatantly religious. But we all value being there every week to get to know people and tell them about Christ as we grow friendships and build trust in the community.
I'm fond of phrases like 'people don't care how much you know until they know how much you care' and 'preach the gospel at all times and when necessary use words' (which, just to clarify, is probably more often than not. Never giving a reason for the hope you have will not make disciples. And if people aren't asking, maybe we're not preaching the gospel with our actions). But it's just another concept that I assume in my head, thinking those phrases are true, but can't think of tons of examples to back them up, besides the crazy people on street corners with signs and microphones and seeing how people completely ignore them.
This week at Broken Hearts gave some proof to those concepts. We did an Exposure Night, where we invite anyone out who's interested in the ministry to join us and see what it's all about. A few of the people who came...well...didn't exactly have the most tact when sharing. Some common sense about people seemed to be lacking, and the concept of showing someone you care was absent. Now...some people can jump into a full-blown gospel presentation and have people crying and giving their lives to Jesus by the end without ever really knowing the person. Those are some seriously gifted individuals. But I haven't seen many pull that off well, and it didn't work that way this week. If I hadn't been so concerned with the relationships I'd been building, I would have found it just funny to see this all play out (ok, I still found it mildly funny).
There were 2 people in particular whose demeanor I saw completely change depending on who they were talking to. I had picked up conversation with a guy I've known for a few weeks, but when one of our visitors entered the conversation and began asking him if he knew about Jesus and going off with all the Christianese phrases, 'Rick' turned cold. He stopped looking this person in the eye, eyes kind of glazed over and stopped responding. And when asked a question, even if Rick didn't answer, this person just kept on going with what he wanted to say. Rick was clearly annoyed and eventually I stepped back in and tried to salvage the conversation.
I've talked with Rick a lot, as well as some others on our team have, and he loves talking to us and coming to bible study; he asked to take a bible home last week and continues to show interest. But when talking to this other person, he became unfriendly, disinterested, and annoyed. A few minutes of easing the tension and he warmed up again and said he'd like to go to church with me if I came to take him that Sunday.
A few minutes later I overheard this same guy talking to a girl standing at the bus stop where we were hanging out. She was staring straight ahead, focusing on the street in front of her and saying nothing to him. But he kept talking and talking. Yes, he was speaking truth and saying gospel messages, but she was entirely unresponsive and apparently turned off. It was stressing me out too much that I had to interrupt. I don't remember how, but I basically made my way into the conversation and within a few minutes, she was chatting with me, still not making much eye contact, but was chatting happily and laughing and answering my questions about herself. She told me that she'd met Michelle (another girl in BH) a few weeks before and was curious if she was there this evening. And by the end of the conversation, she joined us for bible study even though she was worried about missing her ride home. She borrowed my phone and called her ride so she could work out a meeting place and walked with us to find Michelle and say hi and then over to bible study with all of us.
My opinion is that some people may do this 'bold gospel sharing' and get so excited that they got to 'share' and attribute any rejection or lack of response to being hated by the world, or persecuted. And in some instances that's true. People don't always like the gospel message and we'll be hated at times for sharing it. It's also easy to swing the other way and be so relational and full of 'grace' that we never really get to the important stuff and people think Christians are just like everyone else, which may be equally dangerous. However these seemed to be some clear instances that, by just getting to know some people and showing interest in their lives, they're much more inclined to listen to you, care about what you have to say, and be willing to learn - or re-learn what they've rejected - as a result of someone caring. Especially in a place like Hollywood - they already have enough noise and people talking at them and so few people actually listening that they don't need one more voice telling them what to do.
No credit to me, but only to the method of being relational and caring, I could see clear changes in demeanor and openness when the conversation was relaxed and two-way, rather than being preached at. And both of these conversations ended with accepted invitations to church. They didn't seem to be rejecting the religious topics, just the method of the message.
Then today I was at The Hollywood Church ( http://www.thehollywoodchurch.com/) , because I had gone up to take 'Rick' (who didn't actually show up, but oh well). I recommend people to this church all the time, but haven't actually been before. I just know they have a passionate heart for the city and accept the people that some churches might make feel uncomfortable. I haven't experienced that many churches, but I feel like most of them don't look as much like the early church as we should. I think the Hollywood Church is doing a good job with this - living in Hollywood and focused on reaching those around them, welcoming all, participating with BH and helping us out, breaking bread together after church and not so massive that most people know each other within this church family.
I stuck around for lunch after the service and met a guy who was sitting next to me and we began talking about Broken Hearts. He expressed interest in coming, and talked about someone he'd talked to recently in the city who he'd had the opportunity to minister to. And near the end of the conversation (which included Bryan, one of the guys we've been discipling through BH), he offered his name and number to Bryan in case he ever wanted to hang out. Antquan and I had just been talking to another guy at church about getting Bryan more involved so he could meet more guys. And without knowing any of that or ever having met Bryan before, he just picked up on the shyness from Bryan and gave him his name and number let him know they could hang out anytime.
I don't remember what it was later as I was driving home that made me think this, but something made me realize, "I would listen to that guy. I would hear out his advice or wisdom. I would value what he had to say." I had only talked to him for 10 minutes or less. But I had seen several instances of his faith expressing itself in works and in love. I hardly knew anything about him, except that he'd tried to get to know us, and wanted to give of himself and his time for other people. And that made me think about others at the church who I've seen or heard of actually living out their faith and loving Hollywood. I'd pay attention to things they had to say. Heck, I already want to know more about their church and the people who make it up, because I see they love God and love people.
In general, I realize that I take opinions and wisdom from people who live what they believe, who don't pre-judge, who listen, who seek to understand and not just assume. Even if it's someone I know well, if I can tell they're not trying to understand me or my situatoin before they prescribe a solution, I take their advice very lightly unless it's confirmed by others I might trust more.
And now it's just that much clearer to me that it probably works similarly in all situations. If I don't show that I love a person, can I successfully share the hope that I have? Or am I just a noisy gong or clanging symbol?
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Please Drive with Aloha - Part 2
This is better written than anything I've attempted, so I'm just posting it here with excerpt below.
...I think the truth is most of us are just too busy and can’t see what matters. To be interrupted and be available isn’t in the “schedule.” I can be so busy trying to get somewhere, or get my agenda done that I miss where I am at right now. I miss the opportunity in front of me. As a student, I miss the person who just needs to know they matter. I can plan so much that I have a tendency to plan God right out of my life. For me, I see so much and yet sometimes fail to see anything.... http://www.catalystspace.com/content/print/hypocrite/
...I think the truth is most of us are just too busy and can’t see what matters. To be interrupted and be available isn’t in the “schedule.” I can be so busy trying to get somewhere, or get my agenda done that I miss where I am at right now. I miss the opportunity in front of me. As a student, I miss the person who just needs to know they matter. I can plan so much that I have a tendency to plan God right out of my life. For me, I see so much and yet sometimes fail to see anything.... http://www.catalystspace.com/content/print/hypocrite/
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
Working out and Follwing Jesus - Part 4: the Truth of the Matter
I got sucked into working out with the Fitness Manager at my 24 Hour Fitness today. I walked in, stopped at the front desk to have my card scanned as usual, and he stopped to ask what I had planned for my workout that day. Now, they have a pretty friendly staff at my gym, but I kinda had a feeling that he wasn't just asking to be nice. I used to have his job, I know how it works. This is how you sell training.
A few minutes later I'd agreed to let him give me a workout (meaning, convince me how badly I need training from him for an hour, then back it up with a 25 minute workout). But I was feeling lazy and unmotivated that day, and knew I could use the push. I've also been asking God for opportunities to meet people at the gym, at the store, in my neighborhood, etc., to build relationships and reach those who don't yet have a relationship with Jesus. I figured this was an open door, so I took it.
For slightly less than an hour, we talked about my goals, my current workout, my nutrition, etc. I already knew about 90% of what he said, and had preached the same message to others multiple times. I nodded along and agreed with just about everything that came out of his mouth. And I admitted how I knew exactly what I needed to do but often didn't do it.
Finally we worked out for a bit, wearing out my legs and figuring out some of my knee problems. We got along great, had some laughs, and I sweated like crazy. It was a good time. And then of course we sat back down so he could tell me how much training would cost, how he'd like to help me, how we'd work well together, etc. Again, I agreed with all that he said. I was a personal trainer, so of course I know and appreciate the value. In fact, I wouldn't mind having a trainer to push me - if they weren't so dang expensive!
I thanked him for his time, said I'd think about it (terrible thing to hear when you're on his side of the desk), and finished up with some cardio on my own.
Maybe it was my need to people-please and have people like me; or my desire to get more opportunities to talk about God with him (there were some brief ones when we got to the money thing); or maybe the combination of that plus my own guilt of knowing I've been slacking in the gym....but the whole way home and the rest of the night, I went back and forth on the idea of purchasing training. The whole scenario was in my mind and I couldn't get it out...still can't.
As I drove I pondered why this was sticking in my brain so much. Why I felt like I should buy training, when the whole time I was thinking 'oh gosh, don't try to sell me, I'm not buying, leave me alone'. Partially, he was a great guy, not a completely annoying salesman. And he gave me a good workout. Yet he told me nothing revolutionary, and the workout was nothing I couldn't have imagined up on my own if I'd tried. If I essentially knew almost everything he said and showed me, why was I actually feeling a little guilty and wondering if I should buy training? I'm practically immune to salesmen, I can't stand them. I almost never succumb unless I already know I need what they have to sell.
The answer, I concluded, was that even though I already knew everything he said, and knew what I should be doing, he called me out. He pointed out every area that I wasn't doing what I knew what to do and put into words the thoughts I'd been pushing to the side. He brought my weakness to light and exposed my faulty thinking and behavior. It was fine when I knew it, but didn't have to acknowledge it or be accountable to anyone else. I could deceive myself, I could rationalize away my bad decisions. All along I knew where I was making mistakes and deceiving myself. But as soon as someone else saw it and spoke it out loud, it became much more real and weighty.
I thought about going back to the gym every day in the future, aware that I was no longer just another face in the gym. Now there's someone who knows what I'm doing and not doing. It's like he's keeping me accountable just by being there and seeing me. Like I can't hide anymore. There was a moment of temptation to avoid him at the gym and not want him to see me there anymore - to 'runaway' in a sense. That cleared pretty quickly because I'm not that much of a wuss. But next came the clarity that I have to own up to this. Whether it's buying training to fix the problem, or simply admitting to myself that I need to step it up and the committing to discipline and good choices (to 'prove him wrong').
Then I noticed the parallel between my gym experience and physical conundrum, and the spiritual one of telling people about Christ. People hate being told what they're doing is wrong. Often, they run away (happens all the time with ministry in Hollywood. Literally, they run away and book it in the opposite direction of us as soon as we say 'Christian' or 'bible' or 'Jesus'.) And it's frustrating, to tell you the truth. I think "when is anyone ever going to get this? Or accept it? Or acknowledge their brokenness?"
And it made me think that the manager who just spent 1.5 hours with me probably saw a similar picture in front of him. Stubbornness, self-assurance, arrogance even. (which is when I realized I should probably apologize for coming off that way next time we talk!) But inside my mind was reeling after we talked.
Those people we talk to about Christ have probably, at some point in their lives or even on a daily basis, considered their purpose, their existence, their lack of hope, their brokenness. And asked questions and dismissed God and come up with faulty logic and theology. But left unchallenged, they can keep lying to themselves and live a life that contradicts what they really know deep down. When someone calls that out and brings it to life, it shakes them up and makes them uncomfortable because they'll have to face the lies they've been hiding behind and the truth they've been stifling. Some will push it down further and further until they hide it enough to go on living as they've been living - until someone else down the road brings it up again. Others might try to push it away, but will be left with that nagging feeling and finding themselves facing truth and decisions to make about it. And we may never know which they are, because the outward appearance is deceiving.
Maybe these are some of the people that keep hanging out, non-committal and unemotional, but lingering just enough to hear a little bit more truth so they can work through their questions. Maybe they need some time to count the cost, just like I have to with training (of course, it's a little different with the physical because that 'cost' is about me, when really I could use that money for someone else). But to tease out my analogy - I was left counting the cost of doing what I knew I needed to do. Either spending the money to have someone else keep me accountable, or to step up my own training and nutrition to live what I have been believing but not actually living out 100%.
And if a person buys training, they usually don't just jump into that. You have to weigh if it's really worth it. Because if you don't commit, it's a waste. To make it worth it, you truly have to commit and change the way you've been living. And you know that if you commit, it will all be worth it. It's hard work, but you'll get results.
Same with choosing Christ. You don't just jump in lightly to that decision. Because when you do it changes the way you've been living, do live, and will live, forever. You have to commit to something radically different. And according to the bible, being lukewarm about it is not an option. But when you do commit, you know you all of the sacrifices will be worth it.
So oddly enough, my one evening of working out with a trainer at the gym opened my eyes to see a bit more of what it's like for those who are weighing the option of Christ. He's been my only option for most of my life, so I don't always understand. Now I know I need a bit more patience, understanding, and willingness to provide facts and reason and truth over and over. Like the trainers at the gym, I need to live in a way that holds other accountable to the lies they're living, without having to say anything. As a good trainer who practices what he preaches demonstrates through his appearance and physical abilities that the hard work and following the truth gets results -I have to live my own life in a way that proves that the cost is completely worth it.
And eventually, we either all deny the truth and go our own way, or we realize that facing the truth will lead us exactly where we want to be.
A few minutes later I'd agreed to let him give me a workout (meaning, convince me how badly I need training from him for an hour, then back it up with a 25 minute workout). But I was feeling lazy and unmotivated that day, and knew I could use the push. I've also been asking God for opportunities to meet people at the gym, at the store, in my neighborhood, etc., to build relationships and reach those who don't yet have a relationship with Jesus. I figured this was an open door, so I took it.
For slightly less than an hour, we talked about my goals, my current workout, my nutrition, etc. I already knew about 90% of what he said, and had preached the same message to others multiple times. I nodded along and agreed with just about everything that came out of his mouth. And I admitted how I knew exactly what I needed to do but often didn't do it.
Finally we worked out for a bit, wearing out my legs and figuring out some of my knee problems. We got along great, had some laughs, and I sweated like crazy. It was a good time. And then of course we sat back down so he could tell me how much training would cost, how he'd like to help me, how we'd work well together, etc. Again, I agreed with all that he said. I was a personal trainer, so of course I know and appreciate the value. In fact, I wouldn't mind having a trainer to push me - if they weren't so dang expensive!
I thanked him for his time, said I'd think about it (terrible thing to hear when you're on his side of the desk), and finished up with some cardio on my own.
Maybe it was my need to people-please and have people like me; or my desire to get more opportunities to talk about God with him (there were some brief ones when we got to the money thing); or maybe the combination of that plus my own guilt of knowing I've been slacking in the gym....but the whole way home and the rest of the night, I went back and forth on the idea of purchasing training. The whole scenario was in my mind and I couldn't get it out...still can't.
As I drove I pondered why this was sticking in my brain so much. Why I felt like I should buy training, when the whole time I was thinking 'oh gosh, don't try to sell me, I'm not buying, leave me alone'. Partially, he was a great guy, not a completely annoying salesman. And he gave me a good workout. Yet he told me nothing revolutionary, and the workout was nothing I couldn't have imagined up on my own if I'd tried. If I essentially knew almost everything he said and showed me, why was I actually feeling a little guilty and wondering if I should buy training? I'm practically immune to salesmen, I can't stand them. I almost never succumb unless I already know I need what they have to sell.
The answer, I concluded, was that even though I already knew everything he said, and knew what I should be doing, he called me out. He pointed out every area that I wasn't doing what I knew what to do and put into words the thoughts I'd been pushing to the side. He brought my weakness to light and exposed my faulty thinking and behavior. It was fine when I knew it, but didn't have to acknowledge it or be accountable to anyone else. I could deceive myself, I could rationalize away my bad decisions. All along I knew where I was making mistakes and deceiving myself. But as soon as someone else saw it and spoke it out loud, it became much more real and weighty.
I thought about going back to the gym every day in the future, aware that I was no longer just another face in the gym. Now there's someone who knows what I'm doing and not doing. It's like he's keeping me accountable just by being there and seeing me. Like I can't hide anymore. There was a moment of temptation to avoid him at the gym and not want him to see me there anymore - to 'runaway' in a sense. That cleared pretty quickly because I'm not that much of a wuss. But next came the clarity that I have to own up to this. Whether it's buying training to fix the problem, or simply admitting to myself that I need to step it up and the committing to discipline and good choices (to 'prove him wrong').
Then I noticed the parallel between my gym experience and physical conundrum, and the spiritual one of telling people about Christ. People hate being told what they're doing is wrong. Often, they run away (happens all the time with ministry in Hollywood. Literally, they run away and book it in the opposite direction of us as soon as we say 'Christian' or 'bible' or 'Jesus'.) And it's frustrating, to tell you the truth. I think "when is anyone ever going to get this? Or accept it? Or acknowledge their brokenness?"
And it made me think that the manager who just spent 1.5 hours with me probably saw a similar picture in front of him. Stubbornness, self-assurance, arrogance even. (which is when I realized I should probably apologize for coming off that way next time we talk!) But inside my mind was reeling after we talked.
Those people we talk to about Christ have probably, at some point in their lives or even on a daily basis, considered their purpose, their existence, their lack of hope, their brokenness. And asked questions and dismissed God and come up with faulty logic and theology. But left unchallenged, they can keep lying to themselves and live a life that contradicts what they really know deep down. When someone calls that out and brings it to life, it shakes them up and makes them uncomfortable because they'll have to face the lies they've been hiding behind and the truth they've been stifling. Some will push it down further and further until they hide it enough to go on living as they've been living - until someone else down the road brings it up again. Others might try to push it away, but will be left with that nagging feeling and finding themselves facing truth and decisions to make about it. And we may never know which they are, because the outward appearance is deceiving.
Maybe these are some of the people that keep hanging out, non-committal and unemotional, but lingering just enough to hear a little bit more truth so they can work through their questions. Maybe they need some time to count the cost, just like I have to with training (of course, it's a little different with the physical because that 'cost' is about me, when really I could use that money for someone else). But to tease out my analogy - I was left counting the cost of doing what I knew I needed to do. Either spending the money to have someone else keep me accountable, or to step up my own training and nutrition to live what I have been believing but not actually living out 100%.
And if a person buys training, they usually don't just jump into that. You have to weigh if it's really worth it. Because if you don't commit, it's a waste. To make it worth it, you truly have to commit and change the way you've been living. And you know that if you commit, it will all be worth it. It's hard work, but you'll get results.
Same with choosing Christ. You don't just jump in lightly to that decision. Because when you do it changes the way you've been living, do live, and will live, forever. You have to commit to something radically different. And according to the bible, being lukewarm about it is not an option. But when you do commit, you know you all of the sacrifices will be worth it.
So oddly enough, my one evening of working out with a trainer at the gym opened my eyes to see a bit more of what it's like for those who are weighing the option of Christ. He's been my only option for most of my life, so I don't always understand. Now I know I need a bit more patience, understanding, and willingness to provide facts and reason and truth over and over. Like the trainers at the gym, I need to live in a way that holds other accountable to the lies they're living, without having to say anything. As a good trainer who practices what he preaches demonstrates through his appearance and physical abilities that the hard work and following the truth gets results -I have to live my own life in a way that proves that the cost is completely worth it.
And eventually, we either all deny the truth and go our own way, or we realize that facing the truth will lead us exactly where we want to be.
Monday, June 22, 2009
Working out and Follwing Jesus - Part 3: Faith is like a muscle
My roommate and I just got done having a time of listening prayer together. We regularly sit in our living room and share prayer requests and then spend time praying for each other; but today we decided to try just listening together for whatever God might have to say.
I can't say for sure where my mind led me was distinctly from God, or just related to things he'd been teaching me about, but I started pondering what I'd been reading lately, as well as a conversation I'd had just minutes before on the phone with another friend. I was telling him about Francis Chan quoting a professor who had once said, "what in your life right now requires faith?"
As I let the thought roll around in my mind, it struck me that maybe there's not a lot right now in my life that requires faith. I tend to rely on the old faithfuls - like tithing and talking to people on the streets of Hollywood, or asking God to show up in big ways. Things that, at one point, really required a good amount of faith. When I truthfully thought about the question, I realized maybe those areas no longer require faith. I've gotten used to how much money I give away and it's not much of a sacrifice, even as I increase my giving. Because God always provides. And going to Hollywood at midnight isn't scary anymore, I'm used to it and really enjoy it. Yes, every night requires some kind of faith for God to do big things, but not like it used to.
Then it struck me that it fit perfectly with this physical-spiritual relationship I've been writing about. Faith is like a muscle. When you first start lifting weights, your muscles are sore, and your body responds quickly to the load you're demanding of it to lift. It's difficult, it challenges your whole body, and your muscles begin to grow as a result.
But it's fairly common knowledge that after a while of doing a certain routine and working out your muscles the same way, they adapt to whatever load you've been putting on them and your body hits a plateau. Then it's time to increase the reps, or the weight, or the routine so that your body has to readjust and will begin to change once again as you push through the plateau.
Faith seems to be the same for me. When I wrote my first $100 tithe check, it scared the crap out of me. I felt incredibly uncomfortable, but a week or so after I never worried about it again. I always had enough. And after a few months or so of that, I realized it wasn't much of a sacrifice again, and I decided it was time to increase my giving in faith, out of the blessing God had given to me. And so has been the story of my tithing...getting comfortable with giving more than I originally thought I could, and seeing God provide. But it always gets easy and I have to re-challenge myself. Or when I started doing ministry in Hollywood - that was pretty scary, it definitely required faith to get myself down there. Now? Not so much. Trusting God to do big things still requires faith, but I'm not usually in fear of anything that requires me to leap in faith.
So I realized that there's not much in my life requiring faith right now. There's things I anticipate in my future requiring it. And yes, there's some certain moments or decisions that require it (which I sometimes hold back from in fear, or keep a back-up plan just in case God decides not to show up). But I see that my faith has become like a muscle that's adapted to its workout. What once was hard has become easy and even if I like to think I'm working hard and growing, the outward appearance proves me wrong.
It's time to add some weight to my faith, cause it to grow and rebuild, and to see God to even bigger and better things. And I'm scared - oh yes, I'm scared. Because usually growth is painful. Making a muscle grow means that you're actually creating minor tears in the muscle that cause growth has they heal. Faith can be scary and difficult, but the result is always worth the difficulty. Especially because we don't just get a physical reward, but we come to know Christ and see his awesome power more and more each time.
How often to I look back on a workout and think "man, I wish I hadn't worked so hard and tired myself out. I wish my body wasn't getting stronger and healthier and better looking, it wasn't worth the hard work"? Nope. It's always worth it. Same with faith. When have I ever regretted stepping out in faith and trusting Christ and seeing him move? Never. Those are some of the greatest moments of my life. The only moments I regret are the workouts that I 'dilly-dallied' my way through (as my dad would say) and didn't give my all. And the times I could have trusted God but didn't, and as a result never got to see him in all of his might.
What are you doing in your life right now that requires faith?
I can't say for sure where my mind led me was distinctly from God, or just related to things he'd been teaching me about, but I started pondering what I'd been reading lately, as well as a conversation I'd had just minutes before on the phone with another friend. I was telling him about Francis Chan quoting a professor who had once said, "what in your life right now requires faith?"
As I let the thought roll around in my mind, it struck me that maybe there's not a lot right now in my life that requires faith. I tend to rely on the old faithfuls - like tithing and talking to people on the streets of Hollywood, or asking God to show up in big ways. Things that, at one point, really required a good amount of faith. When I truthfully thought about the question, I realized maybe those areas no longer require faith. I've gotten used to how much money I give away and it's not much of a sacrifice, even as I increase my giving. Because God always provides. And going to Hollywood at midnight isn't scary anymore, I'm used to it and really enjoy it. Yes, every night requires some kind of faith for God to do big things, but not like it used to.
Then it struck me that it fit perfectly with this physical-spiritual relationship I've been writing about. Faith is like a muscle. When you first start lifting weights, your muscles are sore, and your body responds quickly to the load you're demanding of it to lift. It's difficult, it challenges your whole body, and your muscles begin to grow as a result.
But it's fairly common knowledge that after a while of doing a certain routine and working out your muscles the same way, they adapt to whatever load you've been putting on them and your body hits a plateau. Then it's time to increase the reps, or the weight, or the routine so that your body has to readjust and will begin to change once again as you push through the plateau.
Faith seems to be the same for me. When I wrote my first $100 tithe check, it scared the crap out of me. I felt incredibly uncomfortable, but a week or so after I never worried about it again. I always had enough. And after a few months or so of that, I realized it wasn't much of a sacrifice again, and I decided it was time to increase my giving in faith, out of the blessing God had given to me. And so has been the story of my tithing...getting comfortable with giving more than I originally thought I could, and seeing God provide. But it always gets easy and I have to re-challenge myself. Or when I started doing ministry in Hollywood - that was pretty scary, it definitely required faith to get myself down there. Now? Not so much. Trusting God to do big things still requires faith, but I'm not usually in fear of anything that requires me to leap in faith.
So I realized that there's not much in my life requiring faith right now. There's things I anticipate in my future requiring it. And yes, there's some certain moments or decisions that require it (which I sometimes hold back from in fear, or keep a back-up plan just in case God decides not to show up). But I see that my faith has become like a muscle that's adapted to its workout. What once was hard has become easy and even if I like to think I'm working hard and growing, the outward appearance proves me wrong.
It's time to add some weight to my faith, cause it to grow and rebuild, and to see God to even bigger and better things. And I'm scared - oh yes, I'm scared. Because usually growth is painful. Making a muscle grow means that you're actually creating minor tears in the muscle that cause growth has they heal. Faith can be scary and difficult, but the result is always worth the difficulty. Especially because we don't just get a physical reward, but we come to know Christ and see his awesome power more and more each time.
How often to I look back on a workout and think "man, I wish I hadn't worked so hard and tired myself out. I wish my body wasn't getting stronger and healthier and better looking, it wasn't worth the hard work"? Nope. It's always worth it. Same with faith. When have I ever regretted stepping out in faith and trusting Christ and seeing him move? Never. Those are some of the greatest moments of my life. The only moments I regret are the workouts that I 'dilly-dallied' my way through (as my dad would say) and didn't give my all. And the times I could have trusted God but didn't, and as a result never got to see him in all of his might.
What are you doing in your life right now that requires faith?
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