Storing like a Woodpecker in Memorial

We have a bird feeder in our back yard. I noticed recently that different birds treat their material possessions differently. The Sparrows tend to show up when they are hungry, slim and quick, they visit a couple of times per day and get only enough to make it until the next meal. Mourning Doves stick around most of the day. They eat until they are bloated, fat and can barely fly. I guess this is what makes them a great source of easy protein for cats and hunters. The foolish gluttons fatten themselves up for their eventual demise.

The Woodpecker is perhaps the most appropriate bird for my neighborhood however. They store-it-up. Our Woodpecker spends hours, going tirelessly from the bird feeder to the closest tree. He picks up a seed and drives it deep into the oak. He is foolishly unaware however, that a few hours later our wily Squirrels come and steal his stored-up possessions. Every day it's the same routine. The Woodpecker stores and the Squirrels steal.

I'm watching this scene and reading Luke 12:14-34. A man comes to Jesus and asks him to tell his brother to equally divide their inheritance. In that day, when a father died, it was up to the oldest brother to administer the remaining assets. In this case, it didn't seem like an unfair request that the assets should be divided. But Jesus detects the idolatry and tells a story. There was a rich land owner who decided he needed more storage for his grain and crops, so he tears down the old barns to build bigger ones. The land owner's plan seems prudent. He is prosperous and needs plenty of assets to assure a secure future. "...Then I'll say to myself, you have plenty of good things laid up for many years. Take life easy; eat, drink and be merry." But there is a problem. That night the man's life is taken. God calls him a fool, for storing up things for himself without being inclined toward God. It seems that the store-it-up strategy is not so prudent after all.

Jesus goes on in this passage to encourage us to act like the Sparrows. Not to worry about the future, but trust God to meet our daily needs. He encourages us to take the extra from our crops, and rather than storing-it-up, to give them to the poor. In this way, we will help our hearts to treasure the things that are really most valuable. It turns out that "a man's life does not consist in the abundance of his possessions."

As it turns out, I am meeting with a financial advisor today. I may take that Woodpecker along and introduce him to the Sparrow.

We Are: A Confession of sorts

As a community we’ve started a discussion on who God has made us to be. A vision for a preferred future. It’s been a excellent series thus far, arousing introspective questions about life, who I am and what the future may hold. Thoughts on how all of these moments that make up this life cohesively form together to bring glory to God. In this discussion, I’ve realized that it’s my tendency to try to find definition, not by asking who by God’s will I am, but by trying to find definition in who I am not. By judging others.

I believe that in these moments in defining who I am by proclaiming who or what I am not, they are moments of self-righteous judgement aiming at someone else’s flaws or hypocrisies. We proclaim “I’m not like them!” or “What a hypocrite!” and allow bitterness into our hearts.

Ironically, where I am quick to disdain someone and their hypocrisy, I myself am a hypocrite.

Onto the confession.

Over a year ago, or so, I bought a 2003 Toyota Tundra for the simple economical reason of trying to impress a young lady. I traded a preferred future for my current image. After the truck, it was a television, clothing, extravagant spending, a gaming console, a very nice but pricy apartment close to work “to save on gas”. The list goes on. The lifestyle - out of control.

My preferred future became a very non-preferred future.

And the Truck wasn’t worth it.

Some FOMers are aware that I was in an automobile accident this past January, where my truck was totaled, due to a driver running a red light. The driver was uninsured, what many don’t know is neither was I. Simply put, I was irresponsible and the previous policy I was covered under had lapsed and was no longer valid.

A good friend expressed their disbelief in me driving uninsured and asked how and why I could allow this to happen. At the time I don’t think I really had a good answer.

I think I do now.

There was a time when maintaining my image was more important then maintaining my responsibilities. Image management was my hypocrisy. It has been a place, a big place, where my life has not acted out on what I believe. It is not a part of who I am.

So what does hypocrisy, being judgmental, one person’s irresponsibility, a truck and trying to keep up with the Jonse’s have to do with finding this life that God has for me? This idea of who We Are?

Well, I think that in someway, it has to do with confession. Many times we confess out of guilt, obligation, arrogance, or lack of control, and because we confess for those reasons we miss out on confessing in a very true, pure, authentic way that owns up to who we may be, and is a part of a struggle to become who we are. I think that when we’re judging others and are trying defining ourselves by “who we are not”, that not only are we effecting our preferred future, we’re harming the present as well.

Early Retirement

A great thing about allowing God to overflow into every area of your life is when those things overlap. Recently in the FOM's Total Money Makeover Group we where discussing saving for retirement, and today I was reading(catching up) in my OYB reading, and an awesome thing happens, Jesus talks about retirement.

What He says reminded me of our group discussion and something John Piper said at an event in 2003, and it made me seriously think about retiring early.

Jesus replied, “Friend, who made me a judge over you to decide such things as that?” 15 Then he said, “Beware! Guard against every kind of greed. Life is not measured by how much you own.”

16 Then he told them a story: “A rich man had a fertile farm that produced fine crops. 17 He said to himself, ‘What should I do? I don’t have room for all my crops.’ 18 Then he said, ‘I know! I’ll tear down my barns and build bigger ones. Then I’ll have room enough to store all my wheat and other goods. 19 And I’ll sit back and say to myself, “My friend, you have enough stored away for years to come. Now take it easy! Eat, drink, and be merry!”’

20 “But God said to him, ‘You fool! You will die this very night. Then who will get everything you worked for?’

21 “Yes, a person is a fool to store up earthly wealth but not have a rich relationship with God.”

Luke 12.14-21

I tell you what a tragedy is. I’ll read to you from Reader’s Digest (Feb. 2000, p. 98) what a tragedy is: “Bob and Penny… took early retirement from their jobs in the Northeast five years ago when he was 59 and she was 51. Now they live in Punta Gorda, Florida, where they cruise on their 30 foot trawler, play softball and collect shells.” The American Dream: come to the end of your life - your one and only life - and let the last great work before you give an account to your Creator, be “I collected shells. See my shells.” THAT is a tragedy. And people today are spending billions of dollars to persuade you to embrace that tragic dream. And I get forty minutes to plead with you: don’t buy it.

- John Piper, One Day 2003

I think what is amazing is that in discussing retirement at group was awesome, because we discussed retirement as being different for followers of Christ, actually how its about more than retirement, but about how to live life. It's not just spinning it a different way, coming up with the hip, post-modern, anti-established, trendy-Jesus, view of retirement either. Its about working towards a freedom to be able to operate at my fullest capacity in God's mission to reconcile a broken and lost world to Him. Maybe I caught the Ecclesiastes bug from a poetic sunday morning rant, or maybe I'm young and can think this way, but you know it really has to stink to be the guy in the story Jesus told. He was rich and rich for a reason. He worked hard, had his emergency fund, drove a used cart and horse - paid off of course, did his debt snowball, and at the end of it all, he died. Just like we all will, and maybe, just maybe by Gods grace He'll help me on this journey to freedom. Maybe just maybe he'll rescue me from my prison of net worth . And maybe just maybe, if I'm really really lucky, by His grace, I'll be able to retire early.

What Happened to Me

I'm hoping this is a good way to tell this story. I think it will be helpful for me to "write it out."

Last week, around Wednesday, I received an email from the pastor of the church I previously attended. The title was "THAT WAS A GOOD EASTER," and it included a transcript of a story I shared with the church one Easter a few years back. It was the story that most of you have already heard about God rescuing me from death when I was 3 years old. That story has been vital to me for as long as I can remember. It's shaped how I understand God and my desire for intimacy with Him. I am convinced I would be a different person were it not for this story. It's my "road to Damascus," I suppose.

So I read through the email. And it occurred to me to share it with another friend of mine who is a pastor of a church. On Friday I was up at the office by myself. It was quiet. I forwarded the email to him, and he asked if he could read it to his congregation on Easter. I told him that the story didn't belong to me, and told him he could absolutely share it. This started a discussion that led to a bit of an epiphany for me. And I use the phrase, "a bit," because I'm always conscious of how strange it sounds when someone says, "I heard God's voice." But I did. Or at least I think I did.

I told my friend that, for my whole life, people have asked me what I believe God saved me for....what my purpose was....what great thing I was kept around for to accomplish. I've found myself wondering the same. Is it my family? Is it influence? Is it some contact I've never considered or don't even remember which God turned in to something beautiful? I've thought it might be any of these things.

And then God spoke. The voice I clearly heard inside...whatever that is...said, "This story was never about you, Brett. It was always about me." Wow. Immediately I felt ashamed that it had taken 30 years to be awakened to this. We say, "To God be the glory!!" all the time. It shouldn't take this long for me to get to this spot. It's not what I'm to do....it's what He's done. Living with the burden of this story...and in many ways it is burdensome...this is so freeing. There's no room for anything but intense, intense gratitude and praise.

On Easter Sunday, Brandon, in his brief talk after the Drama for your Mama(!), mentioned Lazarus. As a side comment he said something about the fact that Lazarus ultimately died. And it occurred to me that we don't think about that much...that Lazarus ultimately died. The story of him being saved from his death is so powerful it distracts us from the reality that this man ultimately ceased breathing. I can imagine that at Lazarus' funeral people spoke of this event that happened to him...this raising from the dead. That story was more powerful than his ultimate death. It is told even today. It speaks powerfully and clearly that Jesus is the Christ. That life wins. And it occurred to me that this story I'm a player in is just the same. It's been told. It will be told after I die. My sons will tell their children. My friends will tell others.

My mom and I spoke Sunday night. I shared this encounter with her, albeit reluctantly as she already thinks I'm a Jesus freak! She said, "That's amazing. I was in the doctor's office on Wednesday. I was talking to the nurse, and somehow we started talking about faith, and I told her your story. She started crying. She said she had already been told this story by the doctor who was present at the time of your experience, and was just excited to meet the mother who endured all this watching her son dragged to death only to be rescued."

Yeah, that story isn't about me. It's a lot bigger than that. TO HIM BE THE GLORY!!! in ways beyond what I've comprehended before.

Thanks for providing me space to share this...I've been working through all of it for the past week or so now. I hope there's some point of encouragement or resonance in there for someone.

Like owning one coat is sooo 30 A.D.

from a OYBG blog posting.

I've been finding the dangerous thing about being an avid reader, and reading books within the same genre, you experience overlap, points of thought emphasized and repeated. So along with my OYB, I've been reading a biographical devotional about Rich Mullins, the chapter I am starting (possibly avoiding to read past the first page) is on simplicity. The reason I mention this, is that a few days ago I stumbled across an interesting point John the Baptist makes, in answering a question on what one should do, he says;
If you have two coats, give one away,[Luke3.11, The MSG]

I read this and I think I have so much stuff, but does it really matter? To be honest with you, I don't like wrestling with these things, because well maybe I think it makes God out to be a killjoy robing us of coordinated wardrobes. As I look at what I have, what I spend my money on and I look at the size of the worlds problems I ask my self, does it really make a difference if I deny myself more than one coat?

Unfortunately the answer I am finding for myself is, well, yes.

It does matter.

It matters because in its essence it is what separates Christianity from social justice, its why the church is more than an outreach center or a spiritualized community center. The Rich Mullins book mentions that Soren Kierkegaard once wrote, "Purity of the heart is to will one thing." That purity of heart, that essence of why consumption and simplicity matter, is Jesus, it is to will Him as one thing.

The more I think about simplicity and having fewer wants, the more I realize that Christianity's appeal is a cop-out and not why I am wrestling with this. I realize that I am wrestling with this because it is reflecting on what 'one things' I desire. The things that are my will.

Becoming

Have you ever read the scriptures and some obscure phrase sticks in your craw like the esophageal cramp you get from eating pork skins too fast?
Today's OYB passage did for me... it read, "...and Judas Iscariot, who became a traitor."
Became a traitor.
Became.
Not was... not "born that way"..., but "became a traitor."
That terrifies me.
How can a disciple numbered with the twelve, a follower of the Rabbi just like Peter or James or John, an apostle chosen by the Son of God to share daily life with this inner circle of twelve... How could he 'become' a traitor?
How can I 'become' a traitor? by contrast, I see through a glass dimly for now... Judas smelled Jesus' perspiration... if Judas could 'become a traitor', what about me?
Counter that with Saul of Tarsus, a hater of the brethren, a young lawyer probably affiliated with the ACLU with an agenda to rid the society of these Followers of the Way.
Saul, named from a man-appointed King, who got struck by the Paradox; Saul who became 'Paul', who became the greatest missionary the early church had known, writing more biblical works than even Moses.
Jesus, how do I become more like this Saul/Paul dude?
Jesus, how do I not become a traitor who betrays you with my words and lifestyle of distractability?
Lord, help us be awake in this tension.
Thy will be done. amen

Between

My Dad is scheduled for Surgery next Monday to remove a cancerous kidney.
Today is Friday...That's in 3 days.
That includes an entire weekend of anticipating an event over which I have no control, an event that will greatly impact someone I love to the limits of mortality.
He's been in town this last week, unexpectedly back for additional tests at the medical center, and this time also happens to be my Spring Break.
Everything feels tentative.
Like waiting, but I'm not sure for what.
A couple of millennia past, about this time on a Friday, a Good man was slowly executed for a crime he did not commit, brutally killed by Religion for the expediency of their political agenda.
I have never understood why we call it Good Friday.
But at this moment I can certainly appreciate the Between, that amorphous time of waiting for something... or awaiting... something to happen?
We call Sunday "Easter"; the disciples call it: "They just killed Jesus, and we're probably next if they come for us."
That's why they were hiding in the home on Saturday and Sunday.
There was no jubilant procession of baskets and pastel colors.
There was no sunrise service... there certainly was no building called "church".
There was just a cluster of frightened, bewildered, anxious followers hunkered down in this weird Between time, awaiting the clank of swords and armor.
And instead they got a histrionic sister babling something about the tomb and a gardener and Jesus' corpse being moved.
Happy Easter.