A Story About Dogs – Kind of.

It’s the day after Thanksgiving, the kind of breezy fall day that makes me forgive East Texas for August.

I’m sitting by my favorite pond on the ranch with three of my four dogs. They always go with me to this little green jewel, tucked in a small clearing in the woods. We are hidden here. It is where we sniff the air and listen for God.

Photo Credit: Richard Freeman

Photo Credit: Richard Freeman

It’s been a rough week though, and I am totally spaced out. I’m watching the dying oak leaves twirl like hundreds of tiny, yellow dervishes on their way to the water, when this thought presents:

“You need to be confident in my love for you.”

“Confident?”

“Yes, confident.”

I don’t totally get that, so I hold still and wait. Just then, Gracie my ten year-old baby dog walks up from the edge of the water.

When she was an actual baby.

When Gracie was an actual baby.

She sits down, practically on top of me, stares at me plaintively and starts to whimper. I’ve got my arm around her and I’m rubbing her head as the sun warms both of our backs. It’s pretty good, but she keeps crying. She stares at me harder and holds her paw on my leg, like she’s begging me to love her more. And that is impossible.

How can such a good dog be such a neurotic, striving little striver? She’s always earning and proving herself, and I can never convince her to stop. Frankly, it’s kind of tiring. She should know I love her by now. She’s not a baby anymore.

Then I get it. I hear the baseline in the song.

How much time do I waste begging God to love me when I already know he does? How powerful could I be if I quit bargaining and finagling over my value? What if I succumbed to who he says I am – the beloved – and behaved accordingly?

What if you did too? What could we create if we lived consumed by the perfect love that casts out fear?

Self-rejection is the greatest enemy of the spiritual life because it contradicts the sacred voice that calls us the “Beloved.” Being the Beloved constitutes the core truth of our existence.”
Henri J.M. Nouwen

On Sex, Jesus and Telling the Truth.

Recently, I listened to a teacher speak about God’s intent for sex. He’s a good guy, a mature Christian, who told some very nice stories about hand holding with a girl he liked in junior high. He talked about God’s hand in his marriage at age 18 and how happy he is abstinence education is taught at his kids’ school.

Some of you were unaware such people still exist. They do. Actually, there are lots of them and he was making a solid point.

However, the week before, I stood at the same podium and told the same audience that 1 in 3 American girls and 1 in 6 American boys will be sexually abused/raped before age 18. That means, statistically, six people listening had a sexual history vastly more complex than hand holding in junior high. Not to mention the people like me who, for years, thought when it came to sex and everything else, that free and unrestrained meant the same thing. (They don’t but more on that later.)

I struggle with this disparity all the time.

Working just from statistics, we know hand holding in junior high is hardly a majority experience. To ignore that fact will make lots of people smile, nod and vow to never ever bring up at church what their 20’s actually looked like – or their 10’s.  When we pull on masks to fit in, we meet the literal definition of the Greek word hypokritḗs – a stage actor wearing a mask. The tragedy of it is, by hiding the conflicting or confusing parts of ourselves, we bury the exact things Jesus died to redeem.

There absolutely is a high biblical standard for sexuality – read it.  We’re just so far from it, to some it sounds like crazy talk. But that’s the way culture works, and frankly, this post isn’t about defending a biblical worldview OR judging how people live. It’s about being honest with who you are, how you got there and how to let Jesus into that in a platitude-free way.

Because, standing in the temple 700 years after Isaiah predicted it, Jesus said:

“THE SPIRIT OF THE LORD IS UPON ME, BECAUSE HE ANOINTED ME TO PREACH THE GOSPEL TO THE POOR. HE HAS SENT ME TO PROCLAIM RELEASE TO THE CAPTIVES, AND RECOVERY OF SIGHT TO THE BLIND, TO SET FREE THOSE WHO ARE OPPRESSED…” Luke 4:18

Read it again: “To set free those who are oppressed”  …. For whatever reason.

I know people, Christians and non, who are struggling with dirty, black secrets; ones they are sure would prompt their immediate rejection should they surface. Shame is heck of a thing, its chief and most insidious lie being: “I’m the only one.”

That’s the lie that keeps people bound up and smiling at church, but cruising the self-help section at the bookstore, wondering how much Oxcontin it would take to make the pain go away.

That exercise, my friends, is sponsored by the enemy because he knows, as long as you stay strong, with the lid on tight, he can use your shame to control you.

But are you ready for the world’s best news?

In him (Jesus) was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. John 1:4-5 NIV.

As dark and nasty as the secret is, it vanishes when the light comes on. It may light up a lot of residual dirt and garbage, but at least you can see it clearly and make a plan to clean it up. Jesus called himself, “The Light of the World,” but it only works if you switch it on.

This is such a present tense value of following Jesus, and to me the highest and best calling of the church: To be people who chose to trust him, who chose to let his light shine in every dark room – even ones we kind of prefer dark.

So, if you’re dying of secret shame, look for those people – the ones who are fine with their old cracks and bullet-holes because the light shines through them in interesting ways. Often, these people are the ones who will jump into the breach with you and keep his light shining, until you can both see the way out.


*as ever friends, my views are my own and not that of my employer.

Christians Be Nice.

photo-26

Over the weekend, I was chatting with a woman from San Francisco, whom I’ll call Meg. We were talking books at the Storyline Conference and she asked what mine was about. I told her what I tell everyone:

“I write about Jesus for the urban, liberal skeptic and all the people who are so irate at the church they won’t even consider Jesus a remedy for loneliness, depression, fear and anxiety.

Meg leaned into me, lowered her voice and said:

“I’m not sure how I feel about the Jesus thing, but do you think everyone here is a Republican?”

“No, I don’t,” I said laughing. “But that is a brilliant question.”

The Storyline Conference is hosted by a bunch of Jesus-guys from Nashville and Portland. You know, the guys in skinny jeans, Rag and Bone boots and Ray Ban reading glasses who know how to use their Macs really well. It’s them and about 1,700 other writers and artists from all over the country.

Meg admitted to being well-embraced by the Storyline community (good job Jesus-guys!) but I think she wondered, since she votes a certain way, if she would be embraced by Jesus himself.

HOLY CRAP HOUSTON THAT’S A PROBLEM! But in lieu of the inevitable finger-pointing let me say, I care less where the perception comes from, and more about combating it.

Christian friends listen for a second – Do you know how many people like Meg are reluctant to ask about Jesus because they don’t want to argue about gay marriage and abortion in the coffee line?

Do you know how many people “in the world” are starving for something to hope for, who would take a running leap into the arms of Jesus if they could hear what he said without all the commentary?

We have this incredible privilege to introduce people to Jesus just by being nice to them, but for some it has become, not just culturally acceptable, but mission critical to challenge the moral, religious and political views of strangers as soon as they disagree with them.

Where did Jesus say his followers would be known by that? Name the verse. In fact, love and fruit, are the only metrics by which Jesus said his followers would be identified.

So it’s bothersome that Meg was cagey about Jesus because she might be a Democrat or Buddhist or Wiccan or gay or vegan or whatever. It also made me want to post her picture on my desk forever so I can remember for whom my bell tolls.

I don’t want to be remembered for my opinions,” my friend and favorite superhero Bob Goff says. “I want to be remembered for my love.”

Willow Creek

Photo Credit: Willow Creek Community Church

Later, as the conference wound down, Willow Creek Community Church was gearing up for Saturday night service. I never imagined being excited to go to church on Saturday night, but when you are heavily loved by Jesus in the exact condition you’re in, it changes what you think is fun.

Plus, in a church of a zillion people, the girl on stage with the green hair and the banjo and the girl in the stilettos who sounds like Billie Holiday except for when she busts into original spoken word poetry, are sure to throw down something holy and cool.

They did. Then a 30-ish pastor got up and said the third commandment – don’t take the Lord’s name in vain – is much more than an injunction against cussing. It is a warning to anybody who would bear the name of God absent its love and mercy.

The Crusades, the Salem Witch Trials, segregation, he said, were all examples of Christians charging into the world, with the name of God held high but stripped of its grace and power, leaving nothing to the bearers but their own names, agendas and brands.

The early church, he said, had no buildings or Bibles, just people who had been with Jesus and were marked by the experience, consumed with his light, his passion and his love. The church grew fast because that’s what people wanted then and that’s what they want now.

I don’t know Meg’s history, or what her faith looks like, but I think she feels like Jesus has been appropriated by a team she’ll never play for, so therefore she can’t play.

Meg, if you are reading this, not only are you welcome to play, but he wants you to, because you are singular, precious and beloved and nobody can play your position like you.