church – Eyes to See

Power With the People

The life of Jesus we have recorded is a treasure-trove of knowledge for ministry. His life and the way he served people has been the spotlight of sermons, books and leadership training for centuries. Yet, two thousand years later, many people teach leadership and ministry apart from his gentle ways.

Other religions have even taken a page from Jesus. Gandhi is famed for saying he’ll take our Jesus, but not our Christians. Islam regards Him as a prophet. Most atheists are willing to bend and say he was a historical being. Regardless of your views of who Jesus was, He shows us through various stories the real key to service. Jesus always served from a place of Presence. He made himself available. He spent his time WITH people.

Real leaders suffers with people. You can’t throw a Bible study at someone going through a hard time. You can’t throw up a 30 second prayer at someone in the throes of despair. You can’t quote a Bible verse when someone’s heart is in their throat after receiving life-altering news.

The key to suffering with people is humility. Jesus was able to engage because he was willing to be humble. He was willing to see and know people’s mess, without coming from a place of judgment or rightness. He didn’t tell people “this is what you should feel.” He sat with, broke bread with, embraced, walked with and lived with people as a human being.

As a leader, Jesus didn’t ask people to be 100% committed to his vision. He simply invited people to follow Him.

As a leader, Jesus realized his friends would make mistakes. He established relationship with people, always making himself willing listen to the perspectives and feedback of those He served, seeking to empower and encourage them in their roles. He made space for grace when mistakes happened.

As a leader, Jesus set clear guidelines for the work He expected others to do and He took responsibility as a leader without finger pointing & ultimatums.

As a leader, Jesus created opportunities for inclusion and radical welcome. He invited people to sit at His table. And even after his closest friend Peter denied Him, Jesus chose to walk THROUGH reconciliation with Peter.

I am utterly heartbroken that so many Christian leaders and ministers do not emulate this type of leadership. It seems there’s regular news stories on “famous” Christian leaders being found out for their sexual deviance, abuse or cover ups. This is not a reflection on the heart of God! I have empathy for the droves of people walking away from American Evangelical faith because of the hurt and pain. I am embarrassed to be lumped into the label of “Christian” with people who ascribe to and use God as a way to harm others.

I’ve seen it play out in real life. When hardship arises, I’ve watched leaders quickly ask for blind following, instead of walking alongside in gentle humility for restoration. I have seen gifted, passionate, godly leaders feel obligated to pledge commitment to a mission statement over people. I have seen willing hands and open hearts let go from fields ripe for harvest because those running the show think they should use only their tools or interpretation. We create arbitrary ways of serving God and pressure creative, humble hearts to conform or to get off the field. That’s not Christlike leadership- that’s a power play.

While the buzz word for years in Christian spaces has been “Servant Leadership,” many leaders in our modern time want the notoriety to be called a servant of God, they just don’t want to be treated like one. In order to become a true servant leader, we must have the wisdom and willingness to walk in true humility.

I am sick of power being cultivated, encouraged and worshipped in Christian spaces. We click and follow leaders who teach dogma and defend them on Facebook threads. We feel comfortable drawing boundary lines for God’s love. We let leaders tell us what the wisdom of the ages means, through their interpretation. We go along with the “rules” of the church because we’re afraid of losing our community.

The Reformation took place half a century ago because of Martin Luther’s belief in the priesthood of all believers. And in a few short centuries, we traded in our Popes for our trendy preachers with muscle shirts and Armani suits. Instead of collecting money for the Vatican to be built, we’re collecting money to build multi-million dollar stagescapes while the single Moms in the pews can barely make ends meet or the homeless person is begging bread on the corner. Is this what Jesus had in mind?

The only way we can reclaim a Christ-centered faith is to take the priesthood of all believers seriously. We who cling to Jesus must learn to love God, ourself and others, in deeply personal ways. We need to stand up and stop putting leaders on pedestals and using them as gurus for how to live like Christ. We have to look within our self as beings capable of being known and loved by God. When we can be attuned to our inner life, then we have capacity for empathy and walking alongside. We don’t need more theologians and apologists; we need more people who look and act like Jesus.

I challenge you to see who you’re following. Is it really Jesus? Or your Pastor? That Instagram preacher? Are they walking alongside others, or commanding others? The church is full of wolves in sheep’s clothing, and we’re seeing an unveiling of this truth on repeat. Christlike leadership doesn’t see people as a means to an end but as relationships to develop, as co-laborers running in tandem, without someone “in charge.”

You and I are people who make mistakes, and will never be perfect leaders. Serving Jesus isn’t about authority. It’s about equality. We have One Shepherd. Jesus is enough. He sets the table- he doesn’t bang on it and demand we do it His way or the highway. He ministers through loving us first, then by knowing and serving his sheep. He didn’t stop when it got hard- he pressed into the hard, scorning the cross of sin and shame, to die and resurrect. He didn’t tell Peter to walk away when they disagreed, or he denied him three times or even disobeyed. Jesus kept on leading and loving, give him grace without measure. Good leadership doesn’t marginalize those who pushback because it acknowledges leadership is about relationship. And Jesus was, is and always will be for relationship. His power will always be with people, and never over people.

To the Backrow Believers

To Those in the Back Row on Sunday:

The moms with wiggly, noisy toddlers who blush red when people turn around to eyeball you.

The elderly with feeble knees and fragile backs who couldn’t quite walk all the way up to the front seats as once able.

The homeless persons finding warmth, refuge and a few moments of safety.

The former pastors and church leaders who haven’t walked through the doors of a church these past couple years after the great hurt this Bride brought.

The couples who’s marriage is crumbling but came thinking this would be a place to find help or hope or both.

The teenagers texting and giggling, with fresh cuts across their forearms hidden under their trendy clothes, wondering if they belong anywhere.

The questioning and riddled with doubt who come in after the music service and leave before dismissal, avoiding judgmental glances or probing questions.

The family who’s father is happy clappy and friendly, but drinks himself asleep each night.

I see you.

And if I could, I’d sit right next to you and tell you this:
You are so loved.
You are so wanted.

You don’t need to come here to get right. Jesus did that for you.

You don’t need to come here to make amends for those things you did. Jesus made amends for you already.

You don’t need to find a dress in the back of your closet and go to church with your best face on like your grandmother once did to earn the title of “good.” Jesus made you in his image and calls you good, anyway. Take the costume off and be real.

You don’t need to sit here anymore and wonder if you’ll ever be good enough, if you’ll ever feel better, if you’ll ever not be ruled by shame.

I’ll sit right next to you and tell you the guy in the pulpit doesn’t have a magic wand or a remedy or a formula to fix you or heal you. And if Jesus were here in person, he’d be sitting with us, too.

Jesus wouldn’t get up front and brag on his skills, ability, spiritual growth or title. Jesus wouldn’t tell you that your failures make you unworthy. Jesus wouldn’t open the scroll and use the words on the page to cast judgment and demand conviction and repentance.

No… Jesus would get off the stage. He’d walk down the aisle that separates. He would sit down with you and He would listen. He would not be ashamed to sit with you. He would love you without conditions or money put in the offering plate.

It’s time we do this, too, church. The people in the back rows and out beyond our walls don’t need more offerings or nicer carpets. They need connection. They need someone to see them- to look them in the eye and feel their sorrow and weep with them. No more side glances of judgment. No more “good mornings” with a half-hearted smile. Get up and sit with them. Because the nice song at the end of service that makes us feel good isn’t cutting it for those in the back row. They walked out of service before the happy notes could numb their soul. Because these are the souls looking for real love, real hope- and many cannot seem to find this in your space on Sundays.

Blog Spirituality

Dear Church, Love Doesn’t Divide…

A mainline American Christianity reputation, and oftentimes reality, is judgmentalism. For three decades I’ve seen the ebb and flow, the collective rise and fall, the finger-pointing and condemnation hurled at certain well-known Christians or denominations. Whether it’s come in the form of questioning their faith, commitment or leadership, I’ve seen people with evolving thoughts on faith lambasted, their books pulled off shelves and every blogger in Christendom taking their collective stab at them.

It’s always been so ironic to me that Christians- who’s primary message is centered on a person called Love- can carry such negative connotations. Love doesn’t divide. Love multiplies.

Every parent who’s welcomed more than one child knows this truth- you CAN love more. The capacity for love is ever-growing, ever-changing and bubbling with the possibility to multiply.

It seems like Christianity is a dying faith some days, and that the church is continually putting each sect under the microscope to criticize. It’s time to return to elementary teachings. The whole message of Jesus is love, and we must multiply the cry.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive one another if any of you has a grievance against someone. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.” Colossians 3:12-14

Church- what if we encountered others with compassion?
Compassion sees the heart of the person made in God’s image and loves them anyway.

What if we encountered people different in their faith with kindness?
Kindness goes out of it’s way to make peace and create belonging.

What if we encountered people different in their faith with humility?
Humility says I can learn from someone else and my views aren’t always right.

What if we encountered the people we’d rather judge with gentleness?
Gentleness listens for the story under the story, the suffering under the hardness, and weeps with those who weeps. Or it finds the joy in the story and rejoices along with it.

What if we encountered our brothers and sisters in faith with patience?
Patience says I realize your path and journey is at a different place with Jesus. You don’t have to theologize, defend, “get on my level,” or believe how I believe for us to bear with one another.

The end of the Colossians passage says that we must put love on to bind us together in perfect unity. The global church is not united right now- we’re dividing ourselves into man-made boxes and defining God within those boundaries. We’re not marked with compassion and joy- don’t believe me? Ask an unbeliever! The Church has not lived up to the charge of love, which multiplies, which invites, which creates openness and willingness to dine with the sinners and the saints. And because of it, we see division.

A house divided against itself cannot stand. We must find unity by becoming people of Love, and not people of our denominations (yes, nondenomers, you have your own little groups, too). We must have loving conversation. We must get out of our certainty, theological boxes and assurances, and learn to become comfortable with the grey areas in faith- because most of it is grey, after all. That’s what faith is- not being certain all the time.

We don’t need anymore opinions or views about Jesus. We need to allow others to seek Him and find Him. We need to give people the air and freedom to wrestle with God. Because a real faith journey includes the doubt.

We cannot live in fear of another person’s viewpoints about Jesus or faith in general. We cannot avoid them or remain silent. We can’t just blend in and keep to ourself. We have to live in the tension with people. That’s the call of Christ: to love in the mess; to engage with faith and humility.

Every time I’ve tried to respond with gentleness, love, patience, kindness and humility to someone I’d previously categorize as “not as holy as myself,” I’ve been surprised to find they are much like me, and also capable of responding with gentleness, love, patience, kindness and equal humility. We can learn and grow, even if we don’t always agree. We can love each other, authentically, and in turn open the doors to love others.

I believe this because I’ve lived it. On one hand I’ve participated in judgmentalism, in defending biblical views, in becoming so rigid in my faith that I’ve pushed people out. I’ve contributed to division, and I am heartbroken by it. But I won’t stay there.

But I’ve also lived repentant (meaning with a changed mind), and seen the Kingdom multiply. I can attest that no one wins or build relationships from picketing, brimstone and fire sermons or a good religious debate. Love wins because of the choice to step out in love toward someone, to show empathy, to care in the same way Jesus did when He walked the earth.

So, Apologists, step away from your podiums (or your social media platform) and let the Spirit enlighten hearts. Use your voice to speak love kindness, gentleness, and maybe even a little humility to know you aren’t always right. God spoke through a donkey; therefore, He can operate outside our neatly defined faith.

So, Theologians- close the books and essays. No man or woman has ever perfectly dissected God and faith. It’s time you to go and talk to people who might even believe differently or belong to a more liberal or conservative denomination. Stop the Twitter arguments and reposts and love your neighbor.

So, Pastors, Elders & Deacons, Lay Leaders and Small Group Facilitators- don’t become so comfortable in your positions that you forget your mission is to love the world, and not just the little clique behind your doors who tithe, who celebritize you on Facebook Stories or think you are a guru of the Bible.

Believers- let’s start giving each other the benefit of the doubt. Let’s not weaponize the Scripture or Jesus. We need to use the real truth of the book- LOVE- to live and move and breathe and have our being.

The world needs us. We need each other. And Love is the only way that’s going to work and unify our hearts.

Blog Military Life

Reunion

Reunion: a word that brings back many happy memories for some. The waft of summer barbecues. The clinking of a game of horseshoes. The smell of salty ocean air and personalized family T-shirts.

For others, reunion reminds them of losing those pounds gained since high school; or of the final push toward accomplishment so there is something to show for the passing years.

The Hollywood vision of military reunion is probably the most public portrayal of this lifestyle. Sailors swooping their sweethearts off their feet in the middle of a street. Soldiers surprising daughters and sons at school functions. Wives running toward husbands and children waving flags. Roses. Cute signs. Cheers. Regalia. Bands. Military homecoming looks so happy. And it is.

But it’s more than that- it’s frightening. Those moments we embrace for the first time in forever are happy. But what do we do with the remaining moments? The drive from the ship to our home. The days of leave where we spend 24/7 together after months of separation. The routine. The normalcy that gets redefined. Reintegration is hard and scary. And we should stop mascarading and pretending it’s anything but.

Reintegration looks like a wife laying in bed trembling before she goes to sleep that first night with her husband. It’s strange and unfamiliar. She’ll have to share the pillows again. It’s hard to welcome his touch after shutting off desire for months. It’s hard to quiet the clamorous thoughts: “will it feel the same? Will he notice I lost 10 lbs? Will he like the new perfume I’m wearing?” And as his fingers glide over her skin she cries- a combination of fear, happiness and relief. She’s not alone anymore. But it feels so lonely at the same time. Inside her mind she thinks, “He doesn’t know me anymore.”

Homecoming looks like a child too timid to approach his mommy because she’s returned hardened by war. Her happiness and delight in those first moments of reunion wear off into blank stares, vigilance along the roadside, distracted thoughts and wondering if she’ll ever be able enjoy this freedom she defended again. If she can be happy again. If she can have a good life with that son she happily stood in freedom’s wing for. And the child in the backseat thinks and wonders if his mommy even loves him anymore. She still seems so far away.

Homecoming is the give and take of routine being refigured. It’s sons and daughters being relieved of what were their extra responsibilities. It’s wives learning to reallow their husband to open her car door. Who will take the kids to their games? Who will do dishes after dinner? How will I carve time into life to give attention to my spouse again? Will I have any time alone again?

The Good News is always that- good news. There is good news for these tough and scary times. We can never be prepared for reunion with our loved one without the help of Christ. No self help book or readiness program can do what He did on the cross. He covers. He gives grace. He forgives.

And that’s what we must do. Military families must cover. Military families must give grace. But mostly, we must do the hardest work of all- forgive.

Covering looks like saying it’s okay your spouse doesn’t remember what day the recycling gets picked up. Covering is saying Mommy or Daddy missed that birthday, but we can celebrate together now. Covering looks like allowing our warriors to grieve, cry and mourn the loss they may have experienced, even if that’s just the loss of camaraderie with someone other than this family.

Grace looks like saying sorry when you argue about who should bathe the children. Grace is seeing your independent spouse still maintain his or her routine even though you are home- and commending them for their strength instead of resenting them for it. Grace looks like turning off the tv and telling the kids it’s been so long since you’ve played with them that you need them to help you remember.

Forgiveness is the biggest priority through it all. We need forgiveness for the time apart, for the misunderstandings, for the lack of communicating the big and little ways our hearts have changed, how our routines have changed, how our lifestyles have changed, howour thoughts and perspectives have changed. Forgiveness for making new friends both for the person on deployment and for us back at home, and expecting our spouses and families to just join in that relationship we’ve built alone for months. We may even extend forgiveness to our Nation for allowing our families to carry the burden of freedom, for allowing our children’s hearts feel the realities of a warrior’s life: real trauma, suffering, sadness and grief they barely understand, let alone process.

There’s so much more of homecoming we never talk about, never make space for, never give words to… but we need to start opening up these lines of communication so we can love each other through it. So we can normalize what feels so isolating. So we can say after reunion “this is hard.” Or “our marriage is not as happy as I thought this would be.” Or “my kids still don’t trust Daddy even though he’s been home for 6 months.” It’s time we share the truth: homecoming is hard. But the other side of that coin is that we shouldn’t be ashamed because it’s hard, either. Life feels hard when we don’t feel heard.

So it’s time we speak up, give words, and share stories of how hard these moments are, so we can receive grace and mercy from each other. So we can let others talk and share and cry and say “I didn’t think this would be so hard!”

Let’s stop perpetuating lies that say “these are supposed to be the happiest days” when you’re reunited and let’s remember the blood, sweat and tears that goes into overcoming hardship, even after our service members come home to safety.

I think military families can do redeployment well if we’re doing it loved. It’s time we create that space for each other. It’s time the Church sees this transition-homecoming- as fragile and sacred so they can support, listen and offer us love, free babysitting and maybe even some meals while we relearn one another, while we grow in grace together and while we do the gritty work of becoming One again- one day at a time.

Blog Musings Spirituality

Shepherd

I remember the moment I felt called to Pastor. About 18 months after I finished my Masters in Counseling, I attended a spiritual retreat. I had an undeniable impression that I was being called to ministry, and specifically to Pastor. I couldn’t reconcile this theologically, having grown up in a denomination that taught that women are meant to serve, but only in the background.

I remember a conversation not long after with a beloved Women’s Pastor, who called out my anointing and gifts, charging me to preach and teach. I didn’t believe her. Not me. She even gave me books to read and I pushed them off. I stayed quiet. I remained mainly in the background in my church community. I was scared to be seen.

I remember the first time someone called me Pastor. In fact, it was my {Pastor} husband, who said that I’ve most shepherded his heart and purposed him to pursue Christ.

I remember the first time I taught a Bible study in my home and the first time I led a ministry project- with knees shaking. The first time I preached to a crowd of women for a Christmas cookie exchange, my voice quivered the whole time. But little by little, with faith, I kept going.

Over the years, I picked up the books. I started to put myself out there to be known. I stayed faithful in my relationship to Jesus and the people He sent to me for care. I counseled many people in late evenings at Starbucks. I walked people through inner healing and prayed with them through heartache. I spent many Wednesday morning with women sharing truth and words to continue the race.

Today my husband and I get to Pastor a chapel on a military base. Because of his role and influence, he has pushed me to step into my calling. Once a month now, I stand in the pulpit. I recognize many people still don’t welcome women in this position. But it’s taken me nearly a decade of praying, seeking, trusting and undoing to find the freedom Jesus offers. We’re all invited. Chromosomes do not exclude us from our gifts and callings.

Furthermore, Pastoring is far, far more than a 20 minute lecture from a podium. True shepherds know their sheep, and the sheep know their voice. Pastoring sometimes looks like coffee dates and text messages. It looks like play dates and casseroles delivered throughout the week. It looks like bringing over something to cheer up a would be Mom who just had a miscarriage. Pastoring is sitting with a couple struggling to communicate and helping them find their common ground and love for one another. It’s presence in the face of grief-stricken moments.

I’ve done all of this because I care for people. Or we give it language and say women who shepherd are just “nurturing.” But for whatever reason, calling a nurturing woman and caretaker of people a Pastor still ruffles feathers.

But we need to speak the truth in love. Women are born, gifted and called to be disciples. And to be a disciple means to study under the Rabbi, to become a “mini Rabbi.” Following Jesus always means to become more and more like Him. Jesus Pastored. His entire ministry was shepherding- caring for and protecting the sheep. Why do we exclude our language from including women in this call? Scripture teaches the priesthood of ALL believers, but we somehow make loopholes and caveats for how women cannot truly be a “Priest.”

Each Sunday that I preach, I sit in my husband’s office beforehand to pray, to be silent, to surrender. And today when I walked in, my lovely boy had left a flower for me to find. This moved me. I heard the whisper of the Spirit encouraging me to keep going- because there’s a little audience watching. My daughter and my son need to know that ALL people matter to Jesus. They need to know the Lord moves in and through everyday, ordinary people. Even women. Even their imperfect Mama.