IT'S TIME: we are moving back to the Philippines

“Faith is the daring of the soul to go farther than it can see.”
19th century theologian William Newton Clarke

“Only those who will risk going too far can possibly find out how far one can go”
T.S. Eliot

3 years ago we started on a journey. Long story short...we purchased a home in Burnaby that we affectionately dubbed “the house”. Many people partnered with us as we dreamt. We loved on the community. We explored the dream of living out the reality of Jesus in this city. And we have had so many wonderful encounters with Him and with the people He loves in Vancouver. We lived something that I truly wish everyone could live. Faith. Hope. Life...in the midst of the chaos that we all live through.

I love that following Jesus is a journey. It is not about accomplishment. But it is about obedience. It is about authenticity. It is about walking with Him. It is about pursuing the dream of the Kingdom.

I was recently reflecting on where we are and how we have gotten here during a conversation with a young leader in Western Canada. He asked me if I still believed in what we were doing. We have worked hard to get here. We have had to spend lots of time raising money and travelling, which is a tiring endeavour. We have chosen to engage our community and learn to breath the air of this city. And sometimes we have had less than kind responses to our passion from fellow believers who ask ,‘What exactly are you doing?’

This is what I know today:
God has a dream. And the dream is called redemption. The transformation of men and women, boys and girls; of people of all races and colours; of all cultures and belief systems; of all languages and geographical locations; of all perspectives and theological persuasions; of all political perspectives and intelligences; of every kind of brokenness and sinful reality; into a people who are called His.

I am more convinced than ever that Jesus has an incredibly high view of humanity and through the dream of redemption, people have the potential of greatness. I truly believe that He thinks we can change the world.

I think He calls us to dream a dangerous dream of Kingdom Reality. Where the systems and rules of this temporary world are brought into submission to a higher law; the laws of His Kingdom, the law of love. This idea is foreign to so many who have been taught to hunker down and hold on till He comes! God forgive us for allowing the fear of darkness to scare us away from venturing into a place of influence in our communities.

We truly believe that everyone is longing for Jesus. They are yearning and hungering for what only He can bring. We believe that the role of the Christian in our time is to become translators of the deepest longings of people’s hearts. People are yearning for that which they have no language for…and yet it is a language we speak. The language of His Kingdom.

This means stepping into people’s lives. Into their darkness. Into their brokenness and forsaking the elaborate structures we have built within our own hearts to protect us from the world. A world who desperately needs who we are.

It’s messy. It's unpredictable. It’s dangerous. Scared? Look at that word. SCARED. Rearrange the letters a bit. S A C R E D.

We believe that Jesus invites us to venture out...out of where we ‘know’ what we are doing and into places that sometimes require great risk. And sometimes...sometimes we have to venture over mountain ranges without a clear idea of what’s on the other side.

Having said that...we are in transition again. For some time we have been feeling that we are ‘finished’ here in Vancouver. I wish I could explain it more clearly. But that has just been our sense. Whats next? We have had no clue...until now. Chuckle.

As some of you know I have been helping Gentle Hands raise funds. If you are not familiar with what Gentle Hands does, check out www.gentlehands.typepad.org

They are a child and youth welfare and intervention agency based in the Philippines. They are on the front lines of rescue and rehabilitation, providing for medical, social and educational needs of at-risk youth and children. They work towards improving human community through the love of Jesus and community centred care.

We have decided that it is time for us to head back to the mission field and throw our energies, efforts and gifting to the work of redeeming the young people of the Philippines and Asia.

I know, it seems wild. But you have to run with passion. And we choose to.

When? Sometime in the next year. We have much to do in preparation.

We will keep you updated on our journey. I am sure you have questions. Feel free to email us and we will fill you in on the details.

Let me leave you with a prayer by Sir Francis Drake that my best friend, Scott Wall sent me. It has captured my heart and urged me on. May it be so with yours.

Disturb us, Lord, when
We are too well pleased with ourselves,
When our dreams have come true
Because we dreamed too little,
When we arrived safely
Because we sailed too close to the shore.
Disturb us, Lord, when
With the abundance of things we possess
We have lost our thirst
For the waters of life;
Having fallen in love with life,
We have ceased to dream of eternity
And in our efforts to build a new earth,
We have allowed our vision
Of the new Heaven to dim.
Disturb us, Lord to dare more boldly,
To venture on wider seas
Where storms will show your mastery;
Where losing sight of land,
We shall find the stars.
We ask You to push back
The horizons of our hopes;
And push us in the future
In strength, courage, hope and love.

Jonathan, Tracey, Caleb n Rosie.

Good Ole St. Paddy...

I wrote this last year...and have been asked a bunch of times about it...so here she is.

Do you ever wonder where St. Patricks day came from??? Let me answer that...

I bind to myself today
The virtue of the Incarnation of Christ with His Baptism,
The virtue of His crucifixion with His burial,
The virtue of His Resurrection with His Ascension,
The virtue of His coming on the Judgment Day.
St. Patrick

For the more than 240 consecutive years, New Yorkers will line 5th Avenue in celebration. Chicagoans will pour green dye into the river that winds through their high rises and train bridges.

Pubs, sports bars and frat houses will display cardboard clovers and lime lights as revelers across the nation raise their collective Guinness’ high in staged reverence. On March 17 several nations will celebrate a dim memory—a memory that will quickly fade from national consciousness like the remnants of a bad hangover.

What so many will miss amid all the green beer and parading is the story of a saint who, at least euphemistically, ran the snakes right out of a nation; the story of a former slave who escaped bondage only to return later to evangelize his captors.

St. Patrick's story is a story about the call of God and the triumph of cultural relevance. It's the account of a man whose early life experiences made him the most able to speak into a Pagan culture that had previously so rejected Christianity.

The Historical Saint Patrick was born sometime in the late 4th Century to a Roman magistrate living in Britain and his possibly Gaelic wife. More than 400 years had passed since Julius Caesar had crossed the English Channel and envisioned a Roman outpost. In the wake of Constantine's religious reforms, Britain was not only overwhelmingly Latin, but overwhelmingly Christian as well.

Resisting tribes had been pushed back, north past Hadrian's wall and West, to Ireland. Nearly incessant warring between the Pagans and the Romanized British had drawn thick cultural lines, though an increasing fur trade helped to smooth the way for Christian missionaries eager to convert their godless neighbors.

At 15 or 16, Patrick was abducted in his native Britain by marauding pirates, taken to Ireland and sold into slavery. During his 6 year sojourn among the Celts, he learned the language and culture of his captors. By Patrick's accounts in his Confessio, his master was brutal and savage and only a continued reliance on God gave him the strength to suffer through slavery.

Six years after his capture Patrick escaped back to Briton, where he returned to live with his kinsman. After reestablishing a life among family, Patrick dreamt of Ireland and of evangelism and, by his own admission, heard the voice of God on more than one occasion—a call that led him to formally pursue the priesthood.

Catholic historians claim that he studied under St. Germanus, the Bishop of Auxerre until his own ordination as Bishop sometime in the early 430's. Shortly afterward, Patrick was commissioned to take the message of Jesus to Ireland. Patrick was not the first missionary to Ireland, there had been, by some accounts, quite a few before him. However, it seems that Patrick was by far the most successful evangelist of the Irish.

Here is the kicker: Patrick's success, was at least in part, due to his knowledge and application of Celtic culture. Drawing on symbols and imagery native to the Irish, Patrick used every available channel to bring the gospel to the nation of his former captivity.

Though it is doubtful that Patrick ever used the Shamrock to explain the concept of the Trinity, it is certain that he did not use the traditionally Roman vehicles of transmitting faith. Thomas Cahill, author of How the Irish Saved Civilization, says that "The early Irish Christianity planted in Ireland by Patrick is much more joyful and celebratory (than Roman Christianity) in the way it approaches the natural world. It is really not a theology of sin but of the goodness of creation, and it really is intensely incarnational."

From the way that Patrick observed the Celtic tradition of exchanging gifts to the way that he highlighted Christianity's belief in an afterlife (a belief shared by the Celts), Patrick used a tactic similar to the one Paul used on Mars Hill in Acts. Rather than convert the Irish to Roman culture, Patrick focused on the incarnational aspects of Christ, letting God work through their Celtic culture rather than letting his Roman form of Christianity work against it.

Susan Hines-Brigger, author of An Irish Journey into Celtic Spirituality, notes, "Whereas the ancient Celts worshiped pagan gods for nearly every natural setting, Celtic Christians praised God’s design and creation of all things natural." Patrick took the assumptions of the pagan worldview and spun them in a way that was culturally recognizable.

What can we learn?

What can we truly meditate on...as we see the green and the shamrocks come out on Monday? Saint Patrick is a voice calling to us. Enslaved in a foreign land whose pagan practices were often hideous and cruel, Patrick responded with faith. After his escape, his ears were tuned to God's voice, leading him, ironically, back to the very place of his captivity. Finally, Patrick made the former foreign land his home in order to bless its inhabitants with the message of the Kingdom, and we see him do it in a way that showed respect and understanding for a people so utterly different than his own.

So, this March 17th, while everyone else is celebrating all things Irish by decking themselves out in green, drinking only the darkest Irish beer, or tuning in to Public Radio's celebration of Celtic music, let us be challenged by the sacrificial life of St. Patrick, looking for opportunities to turn our enslavements into blessings, speaking the message of hope in a way that respects the culture of those around us, and in the process call them to life.

dreaming of the kingdom,
j

random thoughts on fear...

Random thoughts tonight...

Fear is like pain.

Pain is an indicator that something is going on. Pain says, "Hey, yo yo...pay attention here. Step away from the flame. Stop smashing your fingers with that blasted hammer. Get that splinter out. Close your eye. Stop walking on the damaged leg. Go to a medical professional and FIX whats causing this."

Fear does the same.

Fear is not the opposite of faith. It is not something that we will ever live without. Fear is part of living. It is an indicator that something is going on. And where fear shows up, there stands Jesus...right behind me...right with me...saying,

"Yo yo...Pay attention here! I am doing something with you...in you. The timing of this situation that has caused you fear is not by accident. I want to do something within you. Let's have the conversation that needs to happen here. This is the 'why' and this is the time. Lets go there."

Cheri Huber says, 'Every time we choose safety, we reinforce fear.' and i think we choose to stop moving redemptively towards the purposes of God in our lives.

Fear is a potential supernatural intersection. It requires courage to slow down and look it in the face and ask the questions that Jesus would have us ask. Its in those moments that we have some of the most poignant opportunities in our life. Moments where we discover more of Jesus...and find more of ourselves.

hmmmm

Bad will be the day for every man when he becomes absolutely contented with the life he is leading, with the thoughts he is thinking, with the deeds he is doing; when there is not forever beating at the doors of his soul some great desire to do something larger, which he knows that he was meant and made to do because he is still, in spite of all, the child of God.

Phillips Brooks

thoughts??

for the record...(so you know who said this)
Brooks has been called “the greatest American preacher of the 19th Century.” He attended the Boston Latin School, Harvard University (where Phillips Brooks House was named after him) and Episcopal Theological Seminary in Alexandria, Virginia. He became an Episcopal priest in 1860, and became Rector of the Church of the Advent, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. He was known for his support of free ing the slaves and allow ing former slaves to vote. In 1869, he became Rector of Trinity Church in Boston. In 1872, he helped design the Trinity Church building, which to day stands in Boston’s Back Bay. In 1891, he became Episcopal bishop of Massachusetts.

canada...thoughts

We are home.

For the Olympics, we road tripped it. All the way to the middle of Canada and back...so, for all intense and purposes, we drove across Canada. Was a blast. Just our little fam...on the road. Jerky, spits, tunes, mountains, prairies, and some fresh understanding...

Something happened in Vancouver over those seventeen days that’s hard to articulate fully. The city came alive in celebration. Huge crowds filled the downtown all through the day and long into the evening. Hundreds of thousands of people lined up for hours at venues in a spirit of celebration. Police came in from across the country and spent most of the time in conversations together, sharing stories about recollections of being in their home towns. At one point, from what I understand, a team of police officers started to play road hockey with a group of people. So much of it was spontaneous as people connected, talked, and joined one another in celebration.

This was not the Vancouver I have been a part of in the months leading up to the Olympics. We were a grumpy city. Resistance to the games had grown. We didn’t like being told what we had to do and what we couldn’t do because this intrusive event was coming. The message that it would be best for residents to leave during the Olympics was one we accidentally took to heart with our 5000 mile road trip.

Then the games began. I’m not sure what happened. It was as if we’d been waiting for a long time for someone or something to call back to life an identity we’d forgotten. What emerged was more than just a big, seventeen-day party with people from all over the world. What took place was the release of a joy over being Canadian that seemed to have been suppressed for a long, long time. Among all kinds of ordinary people something submerged, but waiting for its opportunity, broke out across the city and throughout the nation. It was incredible to see first hand what was happening in vancouver, happen in manitoba, saskatchewan and alberta. The upsurge of life, joy and celebration among ordinary, everyday men and women is something I will never forget. I have long held a furious love for my country close to my heart. Every time I hear the national anthem...tears. But I was unprepared for the unexpected and unplanned surfacing of Canadian identity...i will write more on this later...needless to say, almost every event left me in tears.

HAVING SAID THAT...currently I have the privilege of raising money for Gentle Hands(if you don’t know what that is, check out www.gentlehands.typepad.com). This past 6 months, it has taken me to many different churches in Canada. AND, what I sense among them, connects me with this moment. A common thread runs through the conversations I’ve had with leaders.

They all share an underlying concern for their churches.

Some are denominational leaders, some solo pastors, some on staff at larger churches. They all are concerned for their denominations. On their watch they have experienced decline and have had to face both bad news and criticism about the future of denominations. I don’t need to repeat all the bad news - there are already too many critical people out there who relish that exercise. Another thread that connects them is their unapologetic love for God and the ways their tradition have been formed from the Gospel. Like the rest of us they’ve tried one model and program after another only to recognize that something much deeper than these technical fixes is happening. Something has happened at a subterranean level to the forms of church life that were so effective in the 20th century. These leaders know we are in a time when multiple narratives clash and compete to be heard in this strange new place where we find ourselves.

Alongside the daily struggle to guide their systems, these leaders have a firm conviction that God is not yet finished with them and their denominations. Strangely enough, I can feel that too! I believe we are coming through a long, dark tunnel into a time when many of these already written off churches and denominations are about to discover the amazing ways God renews. The wells are being redug. Don’t ask me how or to explain that in terms of what exactly that looks like...call it a gut feeling, a sense that something is shifting...like a coming earthquake you can initially sort of sense as though your equilibrium just a wee bit off.

Over these last weeks as I watched the crowds and the emergence of this other, submerged joy of being Canadian, my heart has begun to reprocess years of conversations with leaders in Canada. Connecting these two experiences there’s something which, for me, is important to say.

Just as this spirit that is Canadian found again a voice, churches are finding a voice also. The church is not going away! They’re a part of this other, deeper, fabric of Canadian life. Over the past decades many have lost their way. As a result of endless criticism, they have lost their voices, their spirit, sometimes their identity. Our Canadian DNA is quietly pioneering. Our bloodlines call us to a place of new discovery. Our character beckons us to forge into unknown territories with the dream of something that is more than what we have known. What is interesting is that it is not a revolutionary spirit with which we dream, but with a collective sense of possibility, of hope...which completely sets us apart from any other nation...a subject for another day.

I love that God’s Spirit always works in the ordinary as He calls forth a new creation among people who have forgotten their stories and lost their way. The Spirit breaks forth with new life among those who no longer have the answers and who sense that what they have are empty and don’t know where to turn next. These are the places where God’s future breaks out with celebration just when most are critical, cynical and can’t believe anything good can come from the old systems. Gestating in the church are the elements of God’s new future. He is speaking over the chaos, over the darkness, and calling forth.

That’s why I am facing today...and tomorrow...with more hope than I have had in a long, long, long time.