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“I heard you, sir.”

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I had just finished touring the King Center, a tribute to Martin Luther King, Jr., his life and legacy, Coretta Scott King, and even a little nod to Gandhi. Apparently, MLK and Gandhi were mutually influenced by one another. Anyway, I truly enjoyed my time walking among the stories, pictures, and personal effects of the man known by millions as the personification of the civil rights movement. A personal hero to millions, Martin Luther King, Jr. was and is a powerful force who sought to sow a powerful love of humanity.

After the self-guided tour, I was walking toward Ebenezer Baptist Church, just at the end of the block from the King Center. Ebenezer Baptist Church (location pictured below) was where MLK Jr. served as co-pastor with his father, Martin Luther King, Sr. until his assassination in 1968. It was in this building that MLK Jr.’s funeral was held.

As I was walking toward the well-known church, I saw the form of a person lying/sleeping in the concrete doorway of the building. They roused, sat up, and immediately began to cry. I’ll say here that I’m not given to theatrics. I’ve come across my fair share of individuals who are experiencing homelessness and are in full and honest need of help. And those who only appear to be.

Compelled to stop, I greeted her as a response to her weeping. I sat down next to her on that stoop, as she cried to the point of being incoherent. I couldn’t really understand what she was even saying, but I knew it was something.

“I’m sorry, I can’t understand what you are saying”, I said to her plainly. She repeated herself.

“Everyone keeps walking past me,” she said much more clearly.

“I didn’t”, I said in a matter-of-fact tone.

She then launched into some sad story about her son, about cancer, about abuse she endured, about the Salvation Army and how far away it was, and about how she hadn’t eaten in a number of days, nor had she showered. As far as that last point, it was abundantly clear that she was being honest.

I told her I couldn’t really do anything about her need for money (I heard her murmur something about needing $20), but that I would be happy to try and find her some food nearby. She lunged at me, threw her arms around me, and embraced me, crying on my shoulder. I asked her what her name is. She told me, and I said, “I’m Jerry.” Introductions made, we continued to sit and talk.

I pointed out that I was with a few other people, but would certainly try and bring her some food. She quickly pointed to a corner market across the intersection from where we were and assured me she “didn’t like food from that place.” Hmmm. As I was about to blurt out, “Well, beggars can’t be—-” my finely tuned filter kicked in before I uttered a word of it. But I’ll confess to you here that I did in fact start to think it.

She started to ask for money a second time. She really was intent on getting $20 from me. I assured her I didn’t have that to give. But I did feel compelled to offer her something. I turned away from her, peeked into my wallet, and saw what I had.

I’ve heard the argument repeatedly that you should never give people on the street cash. They’ll just use it for some vice, or some unhealthy habit, or in some way that only ultimately hurts them, and likely pushes them further into their dire situation. You’ve heard this argument too (or thought it, or said it). So I’ll skip the part where we pretend the person giving isn’t often very suspicious of the person asking.

But I’ll just tell you that when I sense I should (and I’m able to) give someone something, my focus stops being on what they’ll do with it, and it only becomes whether I’m going to be obedient or not. What they do with it isn’t my concern. You can handle these situations however you’d like. This is just how I handle them.

So I handed her a $5 bill I had taken from my wallet, and again she told me she needed $20. Hmmm. My brain internally retorted, “Listen, I’ll be happy to take back my $5 if you don’t want it.” But as far as I was concerned, that was already HER $5. I said that should get her a footlong sub from Subway.

I stood up and continued to chat with her as I was getting ready to rejoin my friends. My next statement included her name, and unsure if she had caught mine in all the crying and hub-bub, I said, “And my name is Jerry.”

“I heard you, sir.” She looked blankly and distantly up the street and away from me. No more tears. No more emotion. We had done our business, and she had quickly moved on. And I knew at that moment our interaction was over.

Listen, I’m no Gandhi. I know I didn’t save this woman’s life with my measly fiver. But in that cold tone of hers that dismissed me to be on my way after not giving her exactly what she asked for, I’ve got to admit that for a couple of minutes, I wrestled with a jaded attitude.

But quickly and clearly, God’s Spirit spoke to me. Here’s what He said. I offer it to you as a way to encourage you if you ever find yourself in a situation anywhere closely similar to this one.

“You do what I ask you to do. Period. Don’t worry about what she does or doesn’t do.”

You may recall that Peter asked the risen Jesus what He was going to have John do, right after Jesus gave Peter his marching orders. In a very real way, Jesus rebuked Peter and basically told Peter it wasn’t his concern. Jesus said, “…what is that to you? You must follow Me.” (John 21:22)

Jesus’ earthly mission was to fulfill what the Father had given Him to do. (John 4:34 & 6:38) And He was going to do that undeterred by our response to that obedience. Even at this moment, Jesus loves humanity with the love that drove Him to the cross on our behalf, even while we turn from Him and live selfishly, even when our lives are seeking the proverbial $20 because we think that’s what we need, even as we choose comfort over compassion. Through all that, Jesus’ obedience to the Father’s salvation plan is what holds the gates of heaven open at this very moment.

So with peace of mind and heart restored after brief interruption, I walked away from that situation not having given a woman $5, but having given Jesus my fumbling, stumbling obedience.

“’My food,’ said Jesus, ‘is to do the will of him who sent me and to finish his work.'” -John 4:34

“For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me.” -John 6:38

On Handling Turtles

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I was just a couple of minutes from my home; on my way to the airport. I came to a curve in the road, and noticed that there was a vehicle pulled over to the left-hand shoulder with their hazards on.

Pause. Let’s talk about the “fight or flight” response that each of us has hard-wired into us. When presented with an unexpected situation/crisis, there are those whose instinctive response is “flight”, meaning they want to get away from that situation as quickly and safely as possible.

I’m not a flight guy.

Anytime I see something out of the ordinary, or anything that might be a situation where help might be offered, my instinct is to offer it. But it took me about two nanoseconds to realize there wasn’t a crisis–well, not a crisis I could help with. Unpause.

A woman bounded out of that car that had pulled off on that left-hand shoulder, and a second later, I could see why: There was a turtle in the middle of the road. She saw it and apparently was intent and determined to intervene. I drove safely past, but watched the situation unfold in the seconds following, in my rearview mirror.

I’ve heard a few different theories/cautions when it comes to “helping” turtles across the street. Some say it’s best simply to leave them alone to let them roll the dice on their chances of getting across the road with shell and life intact. Some think they should pick them up and bring them to the nearest safe ground, even if that’s back where they came from. Can you imagine being a turtle and the speed at which they travel, and having a giant pick you up and put you down at what equates to miles back the way you just walked??? If turtles could curse, am I right?

This woman chose to speed the turtle along on their journey in the direction they were headed. If turtles could bless, am I right? As so often happens, I immediately had a sense that this very quick rescue mission had something to do with how people of faith in Christ live. Maybe a lot to do with it. Maybe not.

Probably not. But I thought it anyway. And true to the spirit of this website’s title, here I am.

I’m not a turtologist, but I do know there are different types of turtles. And as such, there are a variety of turtle temperaments. What, you think “snapping turtles” got that name from the way they snap in the jazz clubs after an especially smooth number wraps up? I’m fairly certain it’s more nefarious than that.

So back to the lady and the turtle. She saw a need. She saw something in danger. She saw that she could do something about the situation. She sprung into action, with little regard for her own welfare (remember that curve in the road I was coming around when I came upon her and her rescue mission).

She was determined–come what may–to do something about the destination (and destiny) of that shelled friend. Bottom line: she cared enough to act.

That’s one half of the story. The woman. But what about the turtle? Let’s imagine the turtle could decide how they would respond to the attempt of the woman to “help.”

Do we care enough to act? I think most of us would say that we do. We see needs, we even see peril, and we step in to serve, to respond, to help, to save the situation. It’s actually the most Jesus-y response. Read the gospels. Seeing humanity in need and choosing to simply drive by was not an option for the Messiah. Indeed, “to seek and to save” was His mission. It’s stated clearly in Luke’s gospel. (Luke 19:10)

But what of the turtle’s response? Can you imagine that turtle stretching out its neck so it could reach back to the hand that had reached out to help it, and sinking its beak into the flesh of that hand? Can you imagine that turtle withdrawing into the safety of its shell when a do-gooder approaches? Can you imagine that turtle yelling back over its shell (do they have shoulders?), “Maybe your truth is that I should get safely to the other side, but that’s not my truth. Now put me down before I pee on you! I’ll take my chances with traffic, you intolerant bigot!”

I realize that likening the Christ-centered life to a turtle crossing might push you to unsubscribe from my little blog website here, and I guess I have to own that. But since most of you aren’t subscribed anyway, I’m just gonna take my chances. (That was my not-too-subtle way of inviting you to subscribe.)

Back to my question: Do we even care enough to do something outside of our predetermined path? Are we willing to do what(ever) it takes to intersect with the lives of others, as they hurdle toward danger, and offer them another alternative?

A great man and friend, Jerome Hancock used to tell us (in the context of our local church’s ministry): “Those around us might be on their way to hell, but they’re going to have to go through us to get there!” There’s this defiant determination that the turtle-loving woman I saw put on full display. No matter what it costs, I’m going to do something when I see someone hurdling toward an eternity apart from God.

I know, I know. Some turtles not only don’t want help or saving–they don’t even think they’re in danger. So we handle that as it comes. But that must never stop us from living in such a way that we at least offer those around us an alternative to going it alone on their own strength.

“For the Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost.” -Luke 19:10

Form-Fit Faith

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“Your own, personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares.
Your own, personal Jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who’s there.”

If you’re a fan of “the Man In Black”, Johnny Cash, OR if you’re a fellow Gen Xer (like yours truly), you recognize those words from the song “Your Own Personal Jesus”. Released by Depeche Mode in 1989 and then again by Johnny Cash in 2002. More on that in a sec.

In other news, I have to give you an update on my life. This might shock some of you, and for that I’ll just give you a mild “sorry, not sorry.” In all honesty, I’m not sure I ever thought I’d say to you what I’m about to say.

For months and months, my wife has worn and enjoyed a pair of Birkenstock sandals. She swears by them. She loves them. They were always “her thing” and honestly I never considered myself a Birkenstock type of guy. Just not my vibe. No offense to all you hemp-wearing hippies out there. Do your thing. Birkenstocks just weren’t for me. Period.

As we approached my birthday (which happened just a couple of weeks ago), my wife was quietly and gently suggesting and hinting that maybe I might want to rethink my staunch stance on these sandals, beloved by millions. She was convinced that once I just tried them, I’d change my tune. Long story short, I’m sitting here at my laptop that’s sitting on a cafe table, and just under that table on my two feet are…you guessed it…

I’ve come to realize that Birkenstocks really are a great shoe. As I’ve been told, the longer I wear them, the more comfortable they’ll become. Apparently, the unique corky material used in the footbed will slowly morph itself to the shape of my foot. The more I walk, the better they fit.

David invites us with these words in Psalm 34:8:

“Taste and see that the Lord is good; blessed is the one who takes refuge in him.”

Every faith story begins with a willingness to taste. For some, that taste is taken at the bottom of life’s proverbial barrel, at rock bottom, when there are no other options left. For others, that taste is taken when life is going just fine, but there’s still an empty ache that persists within us. For some, the taste is taken after tasting of the world and the world’s ways and metrics of success have been tasted and found at first sweet, but afterwards leaves a deep, bitter aftertaste that simply won’t do. Regardless of who you are, the invitation is the same: Taste & See. The imperative connotation David gives us is that if you taste, you’ll see that, in fact, “the Lord is good.”

The longer I walk with Jesus, the more Jesus becomes so very personal to me. He’s not merely King, Messiah, Savior, “Darling of Heaven”, and Supreme Authority, though he is most definitely all those things. He’s also my greatest friend, my closest ally, my solid ground, and the One to whom I can (and do) take every topic, every question, every pain, every frustration, every joy, and every experience I have. There is nothing this personal Jesus isn’t personally involved with in my life. I’ve tasted and I’ve seen that He’s good.

Have you tasted and seen the same?

If you haven’t tasted and seen that the Lord Jesus is good, let me echo David’s invitation to you today, thousands of years after it was originally recorded. Taste Him. You’ll see.

I’m not pushing religion here. I’m not asking you to join a club. I’m not saying meet me at church this Sunday. I’m saying right where you are, right how you are, in whatever condition your life is in right now, and for whatever reasons you haven’t tasted and seen up to this point. Just taste, and you’ll see.

Tell me you’ve tasted and haven’t seen that He’s good. I’d love to hear those stories. I’d love for you to reach out if you’ve actually tasted who Jesus truly is, and have found Him to be NOT good. Please reach out. Email me. Call me up. Leave a comment below. I’m not gonna argue with you. I really just want to hear your story.

Tell me if you’ve tasted and found Jesus to be good. Leave me a note in the comments and testify to the goodness of God. I’d love to gather as many people as possible who read these words to simply drop a statement so that others can see that you’ve tasted and seen that Jesus is good. That you’ve tried Him and found that He’s not only the centerpiece of time and eternity, but He’s a personal friend in whom you’ve placed your form-fitted faith.

Worthy.

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I was driving in my car this morning after having just dropped my son off at work, and was listening to Shane & Shane’s rendition of “Worthy of it All” when a thought struck me. I’ve got tons to get done today, but I wanted to get some thoughts down before I get to those things because I think there’s something here…well….worthy of some wrestling and articulating.

In the song I just mentioned, the lyrics are borrowed from the apostle Paul’s letter to the Church in Rome. Read Romans 11:36. The song lyrics I want to focus on are: “You are worthy of it all…You are worthy of it all…for from You are all things, and to You are all things…You deserve the glory.”

It struck me that all of our ills, woes, issues, and dilemmas have some (or all) of their roots in this very issue: Worthiness. The scene described in the song, borrowed from John’s vision of God’s throne found in the book of Revelation, is one of utter weightlessness in view of the majesty and power of the One on the throne. It seems to me, dear friends, that we hold off on reckoning the worthiness of God until some later, future date and time. We view that throne scene as some “I can’t wait to get there and see that”, all the while the scene is present tense, and contemporary with wherever you are and whatever you are facing, right now.

Our failure to acknowledge the worthiness of God of our praise, our attention, our affection, and our surrender has a direct impact on the weight we carry (needlessly) on our own shoulders. When we extol the King as worthy, we acknowledge His power, and hoist our cares onto those shoulders and into that great, unfathomable power. From Him are all things, and for Him are all things, and to Him all things will return. Translation: None of this is yours or mine to bear alone. None of the struggles you’re facing right now actually belong to you. When you confess the worthiness of God by virtue of His power, you relieve yourself of the nonsensical need to carry anything in your own power.

There’s a weightlessness that awaits you, and I’d dare say its moments away from this moment. Because if God truly “deserves the glory”, then He must also be worthy of the weight of that glory. Let me put it bluntly: For you to hold on to the weight you carry is to say that God is not worthy of it. And to withhold the weight of your woes is to stop short of worship.

So let me ask you this: Do you view God as worthy of your worship? Is He to you what He declares He is to all? Do you truly believe that from Him, and for Him, and to Him are all things, even the things you hold in your heart, mind, and hands?

If you view God as worthy of your worship, it makes zero sense that you would withhold anything from Him, especially those things that would weigh you down today.

“For from him and through him and for him are all things. To him be the glory forever! Amen.”

Romans 11:36

Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne and worship him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say:

“You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.”

Rev. 4:9-11

And if you aren’t familiar with the song, let me introduce you to it…

RVA NOW — A Unified Bride

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I want to share something with you that brings me a tremendous amount of joy.

Years ago, I began to imagine what it would look like to see local churches in our area united in worship. Each church has its own place, of course–its own flavor, style, vibe, traditions, and all the unique qualities each local church has–but what if we were to intentionally decide to gather for the sole purpose of worshiping Jesus in the kind of unity that He desires? That He Himself prayed for?

What might that look like?

I know this is not a new concept. Unity among the Church has been an issue pretty much since the Church began. But when we catch glimpses of that unity, I believe we are catching glimpses of heaven itself.

At about the same time as I was envisioning this type of unity, a woman in my local church connected with me, and I learned quickly that she had the same vision and desire. She, too, wanted to see times of gathering for Jesus’ followers in our local geographical area, and we both wanted to focus those gatherings on connecting young people.

So we reached out to local ministry leaders/pastors and began a journey that led us to what is now known as “RVA NOW” (The “NOW” is short for “Night of Worship”). The concept is simple to explain but not as simple to execute: Bring together musicians, vocalists, worship leaders from a variety of local churches, and have them collaborate where no one claims to be “in charge.” Each servant submitted to the leadership of God while they cooperated together in leading those gathered in authentic, unified worship.

Last night was our most recent RVA NOW, and it was, in a word, glorious. Can you imagine a crowd of young adults, some teenagers, and a few older adults (because all are welcome) gathered together in unity under the banner of Jesus? No denominational banners, no local church banners, no theological banners. Just the banner of King Jesus.

I had the privilege last night of sharing a word of welcome to all those gathered to worship. I shared from my heart that we had gathered for two things: First of course, to worship Jesus. But also to build unity among local churches. I asked, “What if our best worship has nothing to do with the song list? What if our best worship has nothing to do with the experience here tonight, or how loud we sing? What if the highest praise we can give Jesus is a unified bride?”

Believe me, I understand theological, doctrinal, and even denominational differences. I grew up in the local church and know all too well the things that can separate us. I’d even call some of them worthwhile conversations and important distinctions. But the central question whose answer unites us is this: “Who is Jesus to me?” If I asked you, “Who is Jesus to you?”, what would your response be?

Those who claim Jesus as their Savior and Lord are those He Himself calls His Bride. And Jesus has much to say about what He expects and desires of His Bride. The keystone desire of Jesus’ heart in terms of us, His Bride is found in Jesus’ high priestly prayer, specfically in John 17:21:

“I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one—as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me.”

There’s a simple life principle I’ve learned in my years on earth so far: What grows is what’s watered. RVA NOW seeks to water unity among believers; the very unity Jesus prayed for. And little by little, that sprout has broken the surface and is slowly reaching its way heavenward as it grows.

If you live in the Chesterfield, Virginia area and would like to know when the next RVA NOW is happening, simply follow @rvanightofworship on Instagram. There, you can stay informed about upcoming ways to unite the body of Christ in our area, and join in as we prepare to present to the Groom His Unified Bride.

The Safest Assumption

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I’ve got to admit something openly. It isn’t easy, but I know it’ll be healing for me and maybe helpful for you. Here goes.

I do not always assume that God is working.

There. I said it. It’s out there now. You just read those words. If you’re feeling some kind of “That’s it?” feeling, let me assure you that I realize you maybe thought I was divulging a skeleton from a dark corner of some closet of my past. Believe it or not, I just did.

For most of my life, I have operated under the assumption that even while I may claim belief in God, and even follow Jesus, and even worship Him regularly, and even gather with other followers of Jesus, and even pray…I have not operated under the continual assumption that He is working. I would say that most of my journey of following Jesus has been akin to seeing a cardinal zip across the blue midday sky; an occasional occurrence marked by wonder but seemingly over as quickly as it began. Until it came around again. Until then, keep trucking. Buy groceries. Brush teeth. Pay bills. Cut the grass. Just…you know…life.

My heart assumed that God showed up and did His God thing sporadically, inconsistently, and, dare I say, haphazardly. You ever watch a night sky with a friend and they yell out, “OH! I shooting star! That was so cool!!! Did you see that?!?” No. You didn’t. Just a *fffttt* and it was gone.

My mind assumed that if I laid all the pieces of surrender and obedience just so, if I plugged all the variables into the equation in just the right way, I could have more of these red cardinal, shooting star sightings. The danger there is that that’s partly true so we think it’s always true. And when we think we’ve nailed the equation and God doesn’t show up…well….that’s a faith-shaker. Basing God’s spiritual prerogative on my spiritual performance is never a good idea. Some of my fellow Gen-X’rs remember the game “Perfection”. Get all the pieces in before the timer runs out. Spiritually speaking, that’s the anxiety that kind of assumption produces (and don’t even get me started on Superfection)!

So here’s what I’m doing. If it helps you, great. If it doesn’t, just know you’re further along than I am.

I’ve changed my assumption from “maybe God will show up today” to “I will see God working today. Not because I say so, but because He is, and I have the choice either to see it or not.”

Now I’m finding God in every conversation, every situation. I’m seeing God work through others for my sake and even through me for the sake of others. Here’s the kicker: God hasn’t changed anything. I’ve changed my assumption about Him; how and when He moves and works. It’s gone from “occasionally” to “now” and “always”.

The safest assumption you can make in your relationship with God is that He is not merely somewhere nearby or that He might possibly pass by like some rare bird, but that in every moment you’re living, there is a true volatility of His Spirit. There is a moving, a happening, a level of activity that clearly indicates His character and His willingness to reveal Himself to you, to me, to us.

Do you want to assume this with me?

Praydoh

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When I was kid, my mom would make homemade Play-Doh. You remember Play-Doh, right? It came in bright yellow buckets, and if you were super fancy, you also bought different playsets that did different things with your Play-Doh. The barber shop, the McDonald’s licensed playset, and the “Doctor Drill ‘n Fill” playsets were super popular.

But my magical mom knew how to make her own. I don’t know what was in that stuff, but as I think about those memories, the smell of it returns in a palpable way to my nostrils. Crazy how that works.

I’m not sure why she didn’t just buy Play-Doh at the store, but I’d guess it was cheaper to make our own. I remember I always struggled to have patience while the clay cooled, so I could play with it without getting third-degree burns.

I do recall that there were more than a couple of occasions where I would be playing with the homemade version of our Play-Doh and I’d get distracted by some other thing, probably Tom & Jerry or He-Man. Or maybe my Legos were calling me. And I’d leave my squishy clay out on the kitchen table.

Whatever shape your spiritual life and health are in right now, it is how you last touched it. Whatever condition your faith currently exists in, it is a direct result of what you have done with it–for better or for worse.

Can I ask you to stop whatever you’re doing right now–whatever episode of Tom & Jerry your heart is distracted by, or whatever pain your life circumstances have handed you, or whatever bitterness has developed because of that wrong you feel has been done to you–and simply return to the kitchen table and sink your hands into an actual conversation with Jesus?

If you don’t, that clay will harden. It will stay in the shape it is currently in and the work of reshaping it will become more difficult the longer it sits. How fresh is your faith right now? How much time has passed since you’ve obediently sculpted it with God’s Spirit playing alongside you?

If you have found your heart and faith have hardened like that lump of clay, simply invite God’s renewing Spirit to breathe new life into your mind and heart right now. It isn’t a chore for Him; it would be His joy to rekindle that conversation and soften that lump of clay, so that you can continue to grow.

Jesus, I return my heart and my affection to you. I come back to the place where I loved you most. I acknowledge that lesser things have pulled me away, and I’ve allowed that to happen. But in this moment, I want to return to you, my first love. Thank you for love that forever welcomes me back.
Amen.

I looked up a recipe for homemade Play-Doh, in case you’ve never experienced it, or if you have and just want to rekindle some memories. While you do, spend time talking with Jesus.

  1. 1 cup plain flour. 1 cup water. ½ cup cooking salt. 1 tablespoon cream of tartar* … 
  2. Mix the flour, water, salt and cream of tartar in a saucepan over medium heat until thick. Allow the mixture to cool and then add the oil. Knead well over a floured cutting board. … 
  3. Store your play dough in an airtight container.