love

Survey for Book #2

Renee Johnson — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 11:34:17 -0700

I am currently writing my second book for NavPress called "Beginning With Brokenness" and I want YOUR story. If you are in your 20/30's, please take a few minutes to fill out my short survey:

http://www.surveymonkey.com/s/GRSLJXV

If you need to change your first name for privacy, please use your middle name. I look forward to seeing your name in print! Thanks for helping out.

Introducing Eric Bryant

Renee Johnson — Tue, 06 Jul 2010 11:43:28 -0700

A few weeks ago, I shared on why I'm happy to attend the Origins Conference in Los Angeles. One of the speakers, Eric Bryant, who is the Navigator Pastor at Mosaic Church is launching a new book soon called "Not Like Me." You can pre-order a copy on Amazon, and listen to this video I asked him create just for you! You can see for yourself what to do w/those peeps in our life who just happen to be not like you! :)

Go Eric!

A Father’s Forgotten Delight

Christian Buckley — Thu, 29 Apr 2010 13:43:22 -0700

When Bridget and I had our first child, little Maeve, I began to consider for the first time what it meant to be a father. I found my mind returning over and over to two concepts that more than anything have influenced my parenting over the last six years and I hope the next sixty.

The first was an image of a fatherly lion, like C.S. Lewis’ Aslan - good but not tame, with all that such an image might signify. I want my children to see me as the lion of the home and then to see God as the lion of their lives. More on that some other time…

The second was the word delight. Every time I think about being a father I think about the idea of delight. I want my children to experience my delight in them just as God delights in me.

The Bible is filled with assurances that God, our father, delights in his Son, his people, and his children. (Proverbs 11:20, 15:8; Psalm 18:17-19, 147, 149; Matthew 3:17)). The fact that God delights in his children, which includes me, is so marvellous that it is almost impossible to grasp. It is one of those things I know….but I don’t really know. I know God is my fatherly “lion” standing firm, protecting me, guiding me, disciplining me. I feel his heavy paw in times of joy, sorrow, waywardness, and failure. But I forget that He also delights in me.

Just this week I watched Maeve through a window at Irish dancing class. She didn’t know I was there, but I delighted in her, watching her skip and float across the floor, hair bouncing, smile gleaming. Last night I took her to a t-ball game and watched her run and play, cheer and try. Again, I found myself delighting in her and I wanted her to know it. Little Brendan watched a soccer game with me and nuzzled down into my lap to share some honey roasted peanuts…I delighted in him. Most days he walks into my home office to ask me if I want to play “fu-ball” with him….delight.

The fact is, every day, in little and big ways, I delight in my Children and I must always remember to let them know it because for my role as their earthly lion to be of any value, they must know that their lion delights in them.

For more images like this one click on this amazing story. Or go to Minden Pictures.

Something For Nothing

Chris Tomlinson — Tue, 27 Apr 2010 22:22:22 -0700

What shall I do to inherit eternal life?

This is the kind of question that is a primary question. We have many questions in life, but only a few are primary. This is one of those questions.

If our lives are but vapors, and if the choices we make in this life—the primary kind of choices related to the primary kinds of questions—have eternal consequences, then above all else, we need to be firmly settled in what we believe, and how we relate, to these kinds of questions.

You may be like me, and at some point in the past, you’ve said to your friend or spouse or parent that you have a question for God. Maybe it’s a question to settle an argument, or a question about life’s purpose, or a question about why God did or did not do something in your life. And you imagine yourself standing before God with the chance to ask your question.

A lawyer in the first century got to do just that. His question was: “What shall I do to inherit eternal life?” (Luke 10:25). And Jesus answered him, in so many words, by saying he must love God and love his neighbor perfectly.

This answer presented a huge problem for the lawyer—and presents a huge problem for us today—because none of us love God or love our neighbors perfectly. Here is where we desperately need the gospel. But the lawyer’s response didn’t probe Jesus’ words to find the gospel. He instead sought to justify himself (vs. 29), asking who his neighbor was, and in doing so, fell short of gospel soil.

Jesus, as He did with the woman at the well, met this man where he was, inviting him further into the conversation. And He told this amazing story of the good Samaritan in response to the man’s question (vss. 30-37).

As we read this story, we should keep in mind that Jesus is answering the question: “Who is my neighbor?” But more specifically, he is answering the question: “What does it mean to love my neighbor?” Or to say it another way, “How is the sacrificial, giving nature of love put on display towards others?”

When we see the question posed in this way, we will find that there are at least four different kinds of exchanges going on—the kind where love is properly or improperly used as the basis for the exchange.

1. Nothing for something. The thieves on the road to Jericho befall this man, beat him, strip him, and leave him for dead. They give nothing and take something from the traveler. They do not love him in the way that consuming does not love.

2. Nothing for nothing. The priest and the Levite pass by the man on the road. They may have felt they had good reasons for not stopping, but they give nothing and take nothing from the traveler. They do not love in the way that ignoring does not love.

3. Something for something. The innkeeper cares for the injured traveler, likely nursing him back to health. There is a sense of compassion in this act, but he does so because he is asked, and paid, to do so. He gives something to the traveler because he receives something in return. He does not love in the way that bartering does not love.

4. Something for nothing. The good Samaritan stops, dresses the man’s wounds, takes him to safety, and pays for his care. He gives something to the traveler but receives nothing in return. He loves in the way that freely giving loves.

Jesus commends the good Samaritan because of the way he loved his neighbor—the traveler he had never met and did not know. He teaches us to love in this kind of way because this is a love that freely gives without expectation of return. We shouldn’t draw from this that we never receive blessing back from God when we freely give this kind of love, but we should see the others-oriented, freely-given kind of love that is put on display as a model for the kind of love that, in fact, gains us eternal life, although it may not be our love by which we profit.

We recognize this when we see the story is not entirely about the good Samaritan, nor is it entirely about giving. It is also about the traveler, and it is also about receiving. This man was as good as dead but received mercy and life from a man he did not know. The traveler himself received something for nothing.

This is grace, is it not? This is the gospel. We receive something—a glorious something, a glorious everything—for nothing. We owe God nothing as payment for grace.

So, in light of the glory of the gospel, may we be good Samaritans, not only to those in need on the side of the road, but to everyone we encounter each day, with an others-orientation that seeks to give freely without an expectation of due payment. And may we also recognize we are the traveler, having received a gift of grace from a God who gives freely, and liberally, without demanding payment in return. When we truly, deeply receive this kind of grace, we will find our hearts transformed so that we in turn give freely and offer all we have, and all we are, to the One who stopped by the roadside for each of us.

*I have borrowed the framework (i.e. something, nothing) for looking at each character in this parable from Pastor Mike Minter.

Question: Which kind of exchange do you find yourself making most often?

"Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire"

Christopher Faris — Fri, 02 Apr 2010 10:57:31 -0700

Fantasy is a powerful tool that brings us out of our reality and into a place of maximum control, typically to ultimate gratification. Our fantasies are the controllable wishes that directly contrast the out of control aspects of our lives. Fantasy often happens in places of pain or boredom. Fantasy serves as a coping mechanism to pain, whereas in boredom it often reveals our hearts by illuminating our desires and wishes. Fantasy is unplanned, which is why it typically happens in the moment of the stressors themselves.

When do you find yourself fantasizing most often? What do you fantasize about? For those of us struggling to make ends meet, perhaps it is fantasizing about what we imagine as an affluent lifestyle. For the timid, fantasy may be about walking into a bosses office, parent’s home, or other authority figures presence and displaying boldness. For Clarice “Precious” Jones, she fantasizes about being adored.

“Precious: Based on the Novel Push by Sapphire” is the story of an African American woman in New York named Precious (played perfectly by newcomer Gabourey Sidibe) who is the victim and survivor of countless abuses. The film begins with a set up of Precious environment – her home, dominated by a monster of a Mother (played by Oscar winner MoNique, who more than deserved her awards), her school, and her neighborhood. We then see in painful detail all manner of abuses including emotional abuse, physical abuse, and sexual abuse – including incest and rape. However, an opportunity comes into Precious life that she bravely follows through on, carrying the rest of the story forward.

The direction and style of the film really took me by surprise. I was not expecting the editing, direction, and music to be so effective. Jump cuts, exits from reality to fantasy back to reality again, and music all richly texture the film. Acting is uniformly great. Real life experience with some form of abuse on the part of the filmmakers impact what we see. The performances truly authenticate the story. If the actors were directed poorly and overacted, played too flat, or were otherwise unbelievable, it would have sunk the film. The movie was obviously created with passion.

But why sit through a film where abuse of any kind is portrayed in any manner? That’s a question only you can decide for yourself (and be warned, this is a tough film to sit through), but the film attempts to give a hopeful climax in the midst of utter hopelessness. Precious is not merely likable, so much as she is so lovable. Perhaps it is the message that in spite of any experience you have been through, you have the choice to rise above it. Is healing possible after experiencing such monumental pain? If so, where is this healing?

It would be a mistake to assume that this film is about poor minorities (especially African Americans) or is a “black” movie. It would be a mistake to assume that “those people” portrayed in the film are the ones who have this sort of universal life for themselves—the poor, the ethnic group you only spend time with through television, or the teenage Mothers. It is a movie I believe that anyone can relate to because abuse is not defined by ethnicity or socio-economic status. Most of all, we can relate to this film because at its core, it is about love. Precious wants, needs, and deserves love. Love of, from and for herself.

“Precious…” came out around the same time as “The Blind Side” and they share two powerful themes—that love and education are forces of healing that are not equaled. Education is enablement, love is empowerment. In addition, each film challenges viewers about the personal human story. When we encounter people, we don’t know where they have been or what role we will play in their story. Just as importantly, we don’t know what role others will play in our story. I am grateful to be moved and reminded of such truthful things after seeing “Precious.”

Sin versus Purity

Abbie Smith — Wed, 24 Mar 2010 06:55:18 -0700

The wages of sin seem apparent to me as death this hour. Not in the funeral, graveside sense of the word, though those are evidenced as well, but what confounds me this morning is death’s residue within contexts of life--sin's ability to rob my abundance of true living, by heart-centered suffocation of awakeness to my Purified state, clean and complete.

What confounds me is sin's enticing pursuit of me as life’s center. Likewise, then, its rejection of others, and the grandiose Story of others being an integral part of mine, and vice versa. I lose sight of ubuntu*. I lose sight of what is real, unloosing my senses to that which is not. I lose sight of the fact that I am lovable- that we are creatures worth loving.

What's confounding of sin today is its ability to embitter me, detaching me in an instant from from that which I truly love. I am infatuated by its choice, and similarly, by its choice of me. Choosing sin, in my case, often means choosing ecstatic pleasures of the moment—ecstacies that will romance me for a lifetime, but satisfy me not for a day. And often I concede to sin’s choosing of me (not on a basis of my Value, but in vehement commitment to arousing addictions toward that which is not). I’d rather be picked, it seems, than believe in patience that truer Love is beckoning to pick me. I’d rather be sought after in my insecurity, or inability, or inconsistency, or inadequacy, even if by an illusion…than accept my purity, and guard it as if my sole means to all Seeing.

*The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 6.23

*Blessed are the pure in heart for they will see God. Matthew 5.8

*”ubuntu”: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ubuntu_(philosophy)… "Archbishop Desmond Tutu further explained Ubuntu in 2008: One of the sayings in our country is Ubuntu - the essence of being human. Ubuntu speaks particularly about the fact that you can't exist as a human being in isolation. It speaks about our interconnectedness. You can't be human all by yourself … We think of ourselves far too frequently as just individuals, separated from one another, whereas you are connected and what you do affects the whole world. When you do well, it spreads out; it is for the whole of humanity.”

Muslims are killing Christians in Nigeria. Will we respond like Christ or like humans?

Mark Russell — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 12:07:15 -0700

Over the weekend I tweeted and updated my facebook status with the simple statement: Muslims killing Christians in Nigeria followed by a simple question: Will we respond like Christ or like humans? It’s always interesting what captures people’s imaginations and provokes response.

After a year of conversations on facebook, I was still amazed at the response the simple status update received. Feel free to check it out here: http://bit.ly/auO0bH

Reflecting on responses, the following points are worth of mentioning:

1) There is no emotion like religious emotion.

Wars over the centuries have demonstrated that religions are frequently front and center in every war. Religious emotion is a product of two things as I see it. First, it is an indicator that people genuinely care. If they didn’t care, they wouldn’t get so upset.

Extrapolate this to relationships, we feel pain or get upset if someone offends our spouse, but our heart beat will barely increase if we see a stranger offend another stranger on the subway.

However, there is also a more sinister reason religious emotion is so hot, namely it is a reflection of insecurity. In almost any form of debate when someone’s argument is weak they will resort to speaking harshly, even shouting, or otherwise spewing forth emotion to distract from the weakness of their argument.

The same is true in religious contexts. When people are insecure in their beliefs or faith, they cover it with emotion. This is largely a subconscious act. Generally the insecure actor is unaware of his/her constant need to cover for his/her insecurity.

2) Who is we and who are they?

One astute facebook friend asked me at one point who was meant by “we” in my question. When I tweeted it, I was actually thinking of “we” as everyone not in Nigeria.

But I have noticed periodically that there is a certain sloppiness in defining “us” and in defining “them.” We are the Christians. They are the Muslims. We are Americans. They are Arabs.

Not only do these “us-them” categories continue to reinforce stereotypes and maintain barriers, but hey are also frequently inaccurate. A few years ago while teaching a class on Arabs at Asbury Seminary, a student brought up how they (Arabs) are killing us (Christians) in Nigeria. Actually, there are no Arabs (perhaps a few) in Nigeria. There are Muslims but this is not synonymous with Arabs, who are a people group, and of which quite a few are actually Christians!

This misunderstanding had caused the student and undoubtedly many others to extend the terror acts of a few Middle Easterners to the situation in Nigeria.

The reality is that these are exceptionally different situations and the situation in Nigeria is more akin to inter-tribal warfare than anything else.

Sadly enough in Nigeria, Christians have also murdered hundreds of Muslims. Even sadder, I have even heard Nigerian church leaders say that Christians should arm themselves like a militia. But is that really the answer?

3) Who kills us?

Every single people group I’ve ever visited in every single country I’ve visited (and I’ve been to over 70 countries) has another group that they stigmatize, don’t like and more often, hate.

What the groups do not tend to recognize is that they are more generally killed, persecuted, cheated, lied to, etc…by people within their own group. This is true for Christians as well. Who is the number one killer of Christians worldwide?....(drum roll)….Answer: Other Christians.

Last year, I wanted to travel with a Rwandan friend to Congo. Rwanda is a “Christian” country where roughly a million Christians were murdered by other Christians in 1994. Congo is also a Christian country, where four million Christians have been murdered by other Christians in the last decade. Unfortunately, my contacts in Congo told me to not come with my Rwandan friend, pointing out that Rwandans are generally hated and are frequently hunted down and murdered in Congo.

This is true in the US as well. Christian militia groups like the KKK hunted down other Christians and killed them. “Christian” Timothy McVeigh killed scores of Christians in Oklahoma City. Eric Rudolf, acting on his understanding of his Christian faith, planted a bomb in Olympic Park. The list goes on.

Granted followers of Christ will not look on these deviations as valid expressions of our faith. The same debate rages inside Islam.

The point is: Christians kill Christians more than anyone else does.

4) The New Way

When Jesus came and proclaimed himself to be the way, the truth and the life (John 14:6), he gave us all a radically new way of living life and responding to the hostile acts of others.

The teachings of Jesus are legendary: turn the other cheek, love your enemy, etc…

They are so commonplace in church circles that I’m afraid they’ve become like canned food, something that is always in the cupboard but something we infrequently use or even really know what it is.

Have we really considered what it means to turn the other cheek and to love our “enemy”? Generally speaking, I don’t think we have.

After 9-11, I remember watching a well-known Evangelical church leader say that we should respond with everything in our military arsenal. I was saddened that he didn’t say something like prayer.

Shortly thereafter I emailed over a thousand people and asked them to join me in praying for the redemption and forgiveness of Al-Qaeda operatives. I was surprised at some of the hostility displayed by otherwise loving Christians to the very idea of loving these enemies through prayer.

A year or so ago, I was in Pennsylvania and saw the location where a mad man locked up and tied up Amish children and shot the little girlsin the back of the head.

The Amish responded to the senseless and heinous act of violence by raising the site, lest it cause them bitterness, committed these children to the Lord and chose to love their “enemy” by forgiving the man (who committed suicide) and choosing to financially support his widow and children.

When I’ve told that story to other Christians, they frequently try to explain why this was not a necessary step on behalf of the Amish. Or they resort to referring to the Amish as a cult. Or some other line of commentary that prevents them from ever having to practice turning the other cheek like the Amish did.

Recently, I was at a conference and an anti-nuclear activist suggested that if there was a nuclear attack on US soil, that 95% of Christians would push for a retaliatory nuclear attack. I’m afraid he’s right.

Do we look at persecution as an opportunity to live the new way of Christ, turning the other cheek, loving our enemy or do we seek to justify a violence-based response.

Muslims are killing Christians in Nigeria. Will we respond like Christ or like humans?

God's Gift-love

Christianity 101 — Sun, 14 Feb 2010 18:57:56 -0800

The love of a man for a woman (or a woman for a man) can be of the noblest sort, and to those two people it may be the greatest thing of all. But what about the love of a man for a dog, a car, or a sandwich? Are those noble loves? Of course not. Those are what C.S. Lewis describes as "Need-loves," as in "I don't have any friends, so I need a dog," or "I need to be seen in this car," or "Right now I need a sandwich."

There's nothing wrong with loving something you need. Most close relationships are based on Need-love. We need the companionship, the warmth, and the love of other people, so we reach out in love. "Our whole being by its very nature is one of vast need," Lewis writes. Even our love for God is based on our need to be connected with the Creator of the universe, who himself is love.

And what about God? What about God's love? Does he need us to love him? No, God's love is of a different sort. It's what Lewis describes as "Gift-love." Because God is love, he can't help but give his love to us, his created beings. He isn't motivated by our lovable natures or our lovable acts (thank goodness). Rather, God is compelled by his own nature. It's always there, even when we don't recognize or acknowledge God's love gift.

God has given us many things that demonstrate his love. We have an incredible world to enjoy. We have life and bodies that function in amazing ways. We have beauty, goodness, and grace. And we have the gift of love itself, enabling us to engage in meaningful relationships. All of these things come from God's love, but none of them can match his greatest love gift of all: Jesus.

Jesus is the literal embodiment of love. For thirty-three years, he lived a life of love that is unsurpassed in human history. Before Jesus came to earth, no one had ever talked about love the way Jesus did. The Greek philosophers held up the virtures of ideal love, but Jesus talked about the value of practical love. We aren't just to love our friends. Jesus said we should love our enemies. The culture of the day taught a love of convenience and self-interest, but Jesus said we should go out of our way to love the unloveable and those in need.

Over and over Jesus expressed his love for people, and all he asked in return is that we love God and love one another. His actions and his words should have been enough to convince everyone that love is all you need. But Jesus had to take one more step to demonstrate the full extent and effect of his love for the world. Jesus had to give himself.

Jesus is where humanity's Need-love and God's Gift-love come together. Without Jesus, we can love, but our love is incomplete because it comes from us. With Jesus, we can love, and our love is complete because it comes from God.

He Didn't Even Notice

Chris Tomlinson — Mon, 01 Feb 2010 07:53:45 -0800

This is Part 3 of the Unseen Fruit of Obedience Series (Part 1: “Go Tell Him I Love Him;” Part 2: “Unseen Fruit of Obedience”).

We had a pretty big snowstorm in Northern Virginia recently. By pretty big, I mean 4 more inches than I ever experienced when I lived in Los Angeles. Any of you in colder climates probably scoff at rookie drivers like me that are affected by a light dusting like this. But it seemed to me that my car was buried under an avalanche.

I’ve never actually cleared off a car completely covered by snow. Crazy, right? But Anna and I needed to get to church the next day, so I headed outside to get the car ready. While I was there, I noticed something strange: It wasn’t just our car that was covered in snow—it was every car in the parking lot. Imagine that.

That’s when I heard the still, small voice that often comes to me when I’ve been focusing on myself so much. God said, “Why don’t you clear off some other cars too?” “Why?” I asked. “Maybe they won’t need to drive anytime soon. And it’s still snowing for crying out loud.”

His response was familiar: “Why don’t you clear off some other cars too.” So I did. I started clearing the car at the end of the lot, slowly working my way back up the line of car that were all buried under this avalanche. I imagined one of the car owners seeing me from his porch and coming out to ask why I was clearing his car. And I would say, “Because I love Jesus, and you should too.” And he would say, “OK.” And it would be great.

After 13 cars, my arm was pretty tired, and I thought it was pointless because the snow was still falling. And no one had actually seen me clearing these cars, so it wasn’t like this was actually bearing any tangible fruit. So I quit and headed back inside.

The next morning, I awoke to the same still, small voice: “Why don’t you clear off some more cars.” What? Not again. I rattled off the same list of excuses but eventually threw on my warm clothes and headed downstairs. The snow had stopped falling, and the sky was filled with the brilliance of the sun. Each car sat ready for my brush and my broom.

After the fourth car, I saw a guy walking out into the parking lot. Here he comes, I thought. This was going to be the “OK” guy. But he walked past me and unlocked the door of a car a few rows back. I recognized this car—I had cleared it the night before. There it sat, with the windshield and windows essentially clear. But he got in, started the car, and pulled out of his space.

He didn’t even notice! He just hopped right in and drove off. How inconsiderate! I didn’t even get to share the gospel with him, and even worse, I didn’t get the credit for what I had done. So I asked God what was going on, and he reminded me of what He’s been trying to teach me about obedience.

We’ve been taking a look at what happens when we obey God and see no immediate payoff. Is there redeeming value in obedience for obedience’s sake? Or should we just trust that God is doing a thousand things in and through our obedience that we may not see? And we’ve seen that God is in the business of producing fruit through our obedience, whether we always see that fruit or not.

What I also realized that morning was that love means putting someone else first even when no one is looking. But that’s nothing new; I have heard this hundreds of times. But what God also showed me was that love also means putting someone else first even when they don’t even know they’re being loved. Or to put it another way—when they don’t know they even need to be loved in that way.

This has implications for every relationship in my life. I prefer to serve people in love when they notice and serve me back. But it’s another thing entirely to love and serve people that don’t notice and don’t even know they’re being loved and served.

God reminded me that He “shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us” (Romans 5:8). Before God saved me, I didn’t notice the ways in which He loved me. And I didn’t know I needed His love in that way. But Christ died for me, even while I was still a sinner. And He died for me, now justified, and being sanctified, while still a sinner.

So glory be to God who loves us when we don’t notice and loves us when we don’t know we need it. And may we be the kind of people who love others in this way.

Question: Have you ever had the chance to love someone who didn’t know they needed it?

Patrick Dodson | learning how to love...

Conversant Live — Thu, 15 Oct 2009 13:05:49 -0700

Author, speaker, mentor Patrick Dodson talk about his new book 'Stuff My Dad Never Told Me About Relationships.'

Patrick Dodson | learning how to love... from ConversantLife on Vimeo.