Tonight as I was tucking my two boys in bed, we prayed together. After prayer my oldest son asked me, “Dad, why do we have to say amen at the end of our prayers?”

I paused at the simplicity of the question. Then I said, “Well, we don’t have to say amen at all. You can definitely pray without saying amen. Amen is just kind of a closing to a talk with God.”

I can tell by his look that my answer wasn’t satisfactory. So I went over to him and kneeled next to his bed and continued, “The word ‘amen’ means ‘its true’ or ‘I mean it’ and things like that. It’s actually from the Hebrew word pronounced hah-main. And that word means “so be it.” Its a way to conclude your prayer.

With honest confusion in his eyes he said to me, “So, why would we tell God ‘so beat it’?”

I quickly corrected my enunciation and assured him that it means “so be it” not “so beat it”. And then, as so routinely happens to me, God used the words of my kids to teach me and remind me of a spiritual truth.

I suppose its most easily summed up in a question: do I live my prayers? Do I live in such a way that reflects the participation in bringing about God’s answers to my prayers? I don’t mean to make us dizzy with the question; I only mean to say do our prayers to God align with our lives?

One of the most well-known prayers in history was Jesus’ “high priestly prayer” recorded in the book of Matthew. And the coolest part about that particular prayer is that I am the answer to it. And if you love Him, you are too. Think about it. Jesus’ two predominant requests in that prayer were for the Father’s glory and for the unity of His disciples (his followers, of which I am one). And I shutter every time I think that the life I live is an answer to the high priestly prayer of Jesus. Can you receive that? Can you fathom that? Can you absorb that deep within your soul? When I live a life unified with God’s Kingdom and those who follow Him, I am literally answering Jesus’ prayer. That’s mind-blowing to me.

But what can also happen is that I can live a life that negates my own prayers. I can request God for something and yet show no outward or inward sign that I trust Him for the outcome. I can take the weight of my day onto my shoulders in practice while uttering my desire for the weight to be His in prayer. If my prayer doesn’t get practical, then in essence I am closing each talk with Him with “so beat it.”

I’ll be the first to admit that some of the blogs I’ve posted have been “undercooked” perhaps. And it is highly likely that this one might still be a tad pink in the middle. But I think I will continue to let it roll around and think more about this: What part am I playing in seeing God’s answers to my prayers played out practically in me?

I’m a pastor. But way before I was a pastor, I decided to follow Jesus.

I was 16 years old when I made that decision. And while I’ve certainly looked around, up, and even looked down over the past 20 years since, I’ve never looked back. Not once have I ever entertained a thought of what my life would be like had I not made that decision. I don’t need to.

And while that decision was the life-altering one, it was one that came with a stark combination of lightness of spirit and severity of heart. It was, is and always will be what I’d like to refer to as the “glorious burden”. And believe me, as I write this I’m in the thick of it. I’m no achiever. I’m no “got it figured out” kind of guy. I’m not even sure you should read this because the one writing it routinely has more questions than answers.

The word burden gets a bad rap sometimes. And I suppose that’s natural and for obvious reasons. But still I think we can rethink the word burden and come away with a greater clarity to our call. For instance, being a parent is a burden. Ask anyone who is one. They’ll agree. Parenting is burdensome. Being responsible for one (or in my case, four) human beings is not a sunshiney barefoot stroll on cool moss. It’s tough. But ask any parent if they bear that burden gladly and without any hesitation they’ll assure you that the burden is indeed one they happily carry. Most parents will go on to extol the love they have for their kids; how they’d gladly lay down their life for any one of their children, no matter what their age or station in life.

So, the issue of burden is one that is unmistakably taught in the Bible. Jesus Himself said as plainly as can be that to follow Him necessitates some very key and non-negotiable ingredients; self-denial, sacrifice, and cross-carrying to name just a few. But I myself found the cross of Christ to be a burden that wasn’t so glorious at all before I understood the right He has to me, my life, and everything I know, have and am.

We make excuses sometimes for not following, don’t we? Jesus told a parable (short story with a Cracker Jack prize hidden inside) about a king who threw a banquet. He sent out his servant to tell his invited guests that the party was ready and that they should come and get down. But when the servant went to the invited guests, they had reasons why they couldn’t come. And if you look closely (or at all for that matter), you see that the reasons were nothing more than lame excuses.
Reason #1: “I just bought some land and I have to go and inspect it.” Are you kidding me? Who buys land without first checking it out? I’d like to sell that guy some prime Florida real estate!
Reason #2: “I just bought a yoke of oxen and I need to go and try them out.” Who goes to the dealership, walks up to a car and says, “I’ll take it.” without first kickin’ the tires, taking a test drive and running it through its paces? I’d like to get that guy on the phone and sell him my pristine ’92 Crown Vic. The Blue Book on it is about $5.57 but don’t tell him.
Reason #3: “I just got married, so I can’t come.” Okay, this one I can MAYBE understand. Being a married man, I can imagine what’s going on in this guy’s mind. But still, are you telling me your bride wouldn’t enjoy a nice time at a swanky party? C’mon man, live a little. Show your bride she married a partyer.
And here’s the part of the story that I love–the king says to his servant, “Then go to the streets, to the highways, to the underpasses, to the parks, to the malls, to the neighborhoods, to the bars, to the red light district, and to the shady part of town. Tell them “whosoever will” may come to my party!
So, yes Jesus calls us to self-denial. Yes He calls us to sacrifice. Yes He calls us to carry our cross. But the glory of it all is that it’s His party we’re invited to. It’s His guestlist we’re on. It’s His eternity we step into when we choose to accept the invitation to carry this Glorious Burden.

I ran into a couple men the other night. These guys are in my small group on Friday nights, and we’re a big part of each other’s lives. One guy who will remain unnamed, named Rob was mentioning my blog and how I’m (as he said) “on fire right now” as far as writing blogs on a more frequent level. He went on to say that he not only enjoys reading my blog, but recommends it to others every chance he gets. While I was absolutely gratified and humbled to hear those things, I was also challenged. I don’t think Rob (oops, I mean Mr. Unnamed) meant to challenge me, but nevertheless, he did.

I just looked at the clock in the bottom right hand corner of the computer screen….(you just looked at yours, didn’t you?)….and I saw that I have now about 15 minutes or so left before I have to head out the door. I’ve got some errands to run before heading into the city of Richmond to shoot a video where I will ask strangers on the street basically two questions:
1. What comes to your mind when you hear the word “Christian”?
2. What words do you think should be synonymous with the word “Christian”?

None of this will be scripted, so it’s going to be interesting no matter what. I’m looking forward to this little social/spiritual experiment. While I’ll try and remember to follow up on this with another blog soon, I’d like to take a stab at what I think people will say, generally speaking (including stereotypes which of course are stereotypes for a reason)…
Christians are…
–hypocritical/a bunch of hypocrites.
–“holier than thou”.
–all about rules and what you can’t do.
–people who don’t know how to have any fun.
–judgmental.
–narrow-minded and bigoted.
–intolerant of other people’s view besides their own.
–out-of-touch with reality.

Here’s what I HOPE I hear…
Christians are…
–people who love others unconditionally.
–agents of positive change in their communities.
–pictures of grace and humility.
–those who leap to the aid of the hurting and defenseless.
–more concerned with people than rules about people.
–willing to love the unloved.
–forgiving.
–an example of what a life is like when God is clearly present.
–obsessed with Jesus and devoutly living out His love.

These are just a few of my thoughts before I head out the door with 2 minutes left to grab my stuff and hit the bathroom one more time. I’d love to hear YOUR thoughts on “What is a Christian?” And if you are a Christian, is there someone who isn’t that you’d be willing to ask this question to?

Some might read this and call me out, based on semantics.
Go right ahead.

*The following blog post was originally started on Dec. 30, 2009.

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I’ve never been a huge fan of reading through the Bible in a year. It seems like a silly goal. Its like saying, “I’m going to the gym and I’m gonna work out like crazy and I’m gonna get huge.” Okay. Great. But what’s the point? I guess I’d always thought that I’d rather read a page and understand it then read a thousand and not remember any of it. But that’s just me. That is, until recently.

Don’t laugh at me, but I’m in day TWO (yes, I know) of a through-the-Bible reading plan. And I’m already struck today by four words repeated in Genesis chapter 5: “And then he died.” The majority of the chapter tells the story of the number of years lived by Adam, Seth, Enosh, Kenan, Mahalalel, Jared, Enoch, Methusaleh, Lamech, and Noah.

After telling how many years each one of these men lived (and little else about their lives), each paragraph ends with “and then he died.” I can’t think of any better engraving to have on my tombstone. Jerry Varner: 1973-_____. “And then he died.”

It was a reminder to me that death is so not what we view it as. Death is such an uncomfortable topic to us humans. For me, its because it represents the ticking timer each one of us have that is directly connected to our to-do list; both have-to-do’s and want-to-do’s. And when that timer is up, there are no more to-do’s, but just one last ta-da!

“And then he died” is a great statement to keep in the forefront of life. Not as a morbid reminder of the temporalness of this life, but as a reminder of the imminent commencement of the next. “And then he died” is penned much like “And then he got up from that chair and moved to another room.” So matter-of-fact.

And I don’t care who you are, what you believe, where you live, or what you do. I defy anyone to come up with an issue that weighs more than the issue of eternity. And not to be dismissive, but I won’t even engage the thought that eternity doesn’t exist. That, to me is a non-sensical argument. No matter what your convictions (or apathy) toward the existence of God, the idea of death, the questions surrounding the afterlife; one thing cannot be ignored, and that is the fact that you and I will die and at the moment of our death, we will move from this life to __________. To fill the blank with the word “nothing” is to live in the deepest, most dangerous kind of denial. And its far better to face the blank now than later.

So since there is an eternity, what will it be for you? Ask most anyone in America what they think will happen when they die and you’re more than likely to get some variation of this response: “Well, I think that I’ll go to heaven.” And when you ask them “Why do you think that you’ll go to heaven?” you’ll hear something like, “Because I’ve been a pretty good person. I haven’t done too many things wrong. I haven’t like, killed anybody or anything. So, yeah. I think God will let me in.”

That, my friends, is a crap shoot at best.