Ash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday. This marks the first day of Lent (a 46 day season in the Christian calendar). This is the season that leads us to Easter. As Advent is to Christmas so Lent is to Easter.

Dismissing Sundays (as the fast is not recognized on the day we celebrate the resurrection), Lent is 40 days and it is meant to reflect Jesus’ 40 days in the wilderness.  During this time Jesus fasted and faced temptation from Satan before beginning his” formal ministry.” For the Christian, this is also a time of fasting, temptation, preparation, as we draw near to the Father who has called us to him. As we commit ourselves to fasts we also dedicate ourselves to prayer.

In worship services centered on this important day we don ashes upon the forehead as a reminder of our mortality. This is also symbolic of mourning, confession, and repentance before God. In scripture and through church history, people would cover themselves in sackcloth and ashes during times of mourning and repentance. The ashes traditionally are made from burning the previous year’s palms used on Palm Sunday (this is rarer in protestant and western traditions).

Lent is meant to help us journey to Jesus’ cross, burial, and resurrection. It is a time to follow him as he ministers to us, making us aware of who we are, who’s we are, and who we should look to for salvation. During Lent we closely follow Jesus and listen to his teachings. We walk with him to his death and find our own death. In walking with Jesus while fasting and praying we discover our frailty as created beings and discover our own sinfulness. When Lent ends on Easter we see the full victory of Jesus over sin and death as we wipes away all impurity and beckons us to join him past the path of dirt leading to the cross and death and into to resurrection and eternity.

If your congregation doesn't hold an Ash Wednesday service, I encourage you to find a local congregation that does so that you might partake in this beautiful tradition.

How To Know You're Ready (For Anything)

I grew up loving pro wrestling. Yes, I was an avid WCW and WWE fan. I loved everything about it and if you asked enough questions you would discover some pretty embarrassing facts about me regarding this affinity. One of the things I recall about watching wrestling is Michael Buffer announcing before main event matches, “Are… YOU.. ready?” Then, after the cheers, he would say “for the thousands in attendance and the millions watching at home, ladies and gentlemen, lllllet’s get ready to  rumbllllllllllle.” 

Michael Buffer wasn’t always around but we’ve all been asked this question throughout our lives. “Are you ready?” 

People weren’t usually asking if I was ready to rumble. It was usually associated with a hockey game, an upcoming test, getting my license, asking a girl out on a date, being promoted, packing for a road trip, or even death. Recently, I heard this question over and over and over on my way to getting married.

“Are you ready?”

It often leaves us asking ourselves “Am I ready?”

I found myself asking this as I drew closer to my wedding. Beyond that, I began to ask “What does ‘ready’ even mean?” Here’s what I learned:

Being ready is either an impossibility, a lie, or really complicated. Maybe all of those. 

A lot of the time we’re asking whether or not we’ve prepared ourselves to a point of confidence. Have we put in the work we know we need to put in that gives us a reasonable assurance of success? Did I study for the test? Did I determine that I like this girl? Do I have all the things needed for this trip? If so, then I’m prepared, as well as I can be. I’m “ready.”

But here is the thing: No matter how prepared you are or how confident you become as a result of preparations, the future is always a mystery and you simply can’t have full assurance or even a reasonable confidence. Any confidence we have towards the unknown is an illusion. 

When I approached my wedding I approached it with the belief that the only people who truly understand marriage are dead people, the people who have a general idea about it are married, and all of us single people are blindly guessing. 

I had talked to lots of married friends and older couples. I read a dozen books about marriage, communication, and conflict. I sought counseling, had my friends give me feedback on my fiance, and did everything I could think of to prepare for my marriage. It didn’t matter how much I prepared, I still couldn’t know the future. On the day of my wedding, I stood in front of my loved ones, awaiting my bride to the words of Derek Webb as he sang, “I don’t promise ‘cause I know I’ll always love you. I make my vows to guarantee I will.” I chose that song because I knew I couldn’t know the future, but I could commit to it regardless. 

Commitment. Willingness. Ultimately, that’s what being ready is all about. Readiness is actually willingness. Through this lens readiness becomes real and possible.

We can prepare for anything until we feel confident but if that confidence isn’t paired with a willingness to commit ourselves to engaging the mystery of the future then it’s all for not. Willingness, more than anything, is what makes us qualified to pursue the unknown future. So if you’re willing then you’re ready. 

Prepare for the unknown as much you can, be confident if possible, but most of all embrace willingness. In the end, no one is prepared for the unknown because no one knows the unknown but we can be ready for it if we are willing to engage it. 

So the next time someone like Michael Buffer asks “Are you ready?” Respond by saying, “I’m willing!”

Christians, Know Nothing...

A year ago I was in the final days of writing a thesis paper for my Masters of Arts degree. It covered the theological construction of Dietrich Bonhoeffer’s ethics regarding violence. It was to be the pinnacle of my academic career - 2 years in seminary and 4 in my undergraduate. 

By this point, I had spent a year reading every book Bonhoeffer wrote. I had read dozens of books about Bonhoeffer and about the books he wrote. I read books about the books he didn’t write. I even adopted the hobbies and musical tastes of Bonhoeffer during those days. My time, my conversations, my mind, my whole life was filled to the brim with Bonhoeffer. A friend even told me I was beginning to look like Bonhoeffer. I was consumed.

Then, several months later I met a woman and fell in love. I spent weeks researching engagement rings. Color, carats, clarity, materials, costs (oh God, the costs) and all the many details that were so important to know when finding a tiny piece of jewelry that will signify the most important bond I could know at that point of life. I went to every jewelry store in sight. I scoured Pinterest. I surveyed the women around me. My eyes were probably sparkling from the permanent reflection of rings I was constantly gazing upon. 

Then, the wedding. I spent 3 months with nothing but wedding details in front of me. Before my eyes, through my ears, under my finger tips, on my lips; cake, decorations, music, clothes, and more. My Netflix and DVR were made up of a bunch of shows I never imagined I’d watch like “Say Yes to the Dress” or “Bridezilla.” Every discussion I had with people came back to my wedding. Not because I’m a selfish jerk, though I may be, but because all I knew was my wedding. Nothing else existed. I was focused. I was consumed. I had given myself fully to this cause and it formed my life and identity. I had become Travis Blankenship; Wedding Genius (OK, that’s being generous but you get the point).

Tonight, my wife and I both talked about our friends who are about to get married and it reminded us of this all-consuming habit we humans adopt. We give ourselves to things that completely take us over. In reflecting on this I recalled one of my favorite and most guiding scriptures:

1 Corinthians 2:2 “For I decided to know nothing among you except Jesus Christ and him crucified”

I’ve known nothing but Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I’ve known nothing but engagement rings and weddings. I’ve even known nothing but the Seattle Seahawks recently. I’m sure we can all think of things that have filled our entire vision for a time. Of them all, only one should be everlasting and only one should rule us completely. Only one thing in all the world ought to reign in our lives so entirely that it forms our identity and rituals while forcing everything to come back to it.

Jesus Christ crucified should be all we know.

I’m not saying it’s not okay to allow things in this life to greatly occupy us. My dedication to my thesis or bride were not wrong. My point is that St. Paul has shown us something good and worthy of pursuing: to know nothing but Jesus Christ and him crucified, especially among people. We must allow Christ to occupy us beyond all else and at all times.

What would it look like to embrace this extreme dedication? 

What sort of faithfulness would this require? 

How often would scripture be read or heard each day? 

What would our conversations look like with friends?

Which songs would we sing the most? 

What would our relationship to the poor, needy, and marginalized look like? 

How many luxuries would we lose? 

Would we be able to pray enough? 

What would be done with our free time?

What sufferings would we learn to embrace? 

Would knowing nothing but Jesus Christ crucified look the way my life looks now or would it look different? If it would look different, can I imagine the path toward knowing only this one all important reality? Could the local church help me to get there? (The answer here is ‘yes’)

I am joyfully cornered into believing that if I knew nothing but Jesus Christ crucified that I would gain the wisdom to know how to not become legalistic about dedicating myself to Jesus and giving him every bit of my life while also allowing myself to be fully consumed by him as I walk in the messiness of life as someone set apart in this world, uniquely reflecting Jesus to all. 

Could I pray more? Yes. Could I read and recall scriptures more? Yes. Could I give up less luxuries and find solidarity with the low of status more? Yes. Every bit of me could be given to Christ more. It should be. 

And this is true of every single person. This is not to lead us into guilt as though it were some sort of burden though for we know that the yoke (teaching) of the crucified Jesus is a light one. As we reflect on our own lives let us ask God to show us where to focus ourselves. Let us begin the journey to know nothing but Jesus Christ crucified by embracing new habits, rituals, thoughts, identities, societies, and lives. Let us do it together as the Church and let us do it honestly.

When we fall short, let’s confess. When we succeed let’s not boast. Let’s take the advice of the disciples who once wrote, “if you can carry the whole yoke of the Lord you will be perfect; but if you cannot, do what you can.” As you do so, “Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not lean on your own understanding” (Proverbs 3:5) and “whatever you do, do all to the glory of God” (1 Corinthians 10:31).

As you gain knowledge of many things in this world, may you know nothing amongst others but Jesus Christ and him crucified, that you may be formed by him and his victorious crucifixion that has brought you redemption into a person who embodies the Spirit of our Lord.

Duck Dynasty, Power, & Jesus At Christmas

While i’m unconcerned with Phil Robertson and Duck Dynasty I’m very concerned with the people who let the “controversy” involving the two distract them, particularly the Christians who have let the topic distract them.

Media explosions like this often distract us from Jesus. The fact that many people are being distracted in the name of Jesus and with the intentions of being disciples is what makes the issue even more complicated and concerning. Some of us feel the need to stand up publicly for Phil Robertson, for free speech, for persecuted Christians, and for the truth of God’s view on homosexuality. 

As I watch my friends jump into the chaos of internet debates, A&E boycotts, and starting campaigns centered around the latest Christian celebrity I ask myself “Why?”

A lot of the issue comes down to power. Western Christians have been born into a place of power and privilege (like it or not). In many ways, we are rich and blind to the realities Christians in other parts of the world (and of other races or social classes) so we continue living unaware. We must eventually admit that we’re use to having influence if not majority control.

Because we tend to live in a place of power we think we must have it. Because the culture and nation we live in values power highly we tend to think we ought to as well. Jesus, however, did not value power and he discouraged his followers from desiring it as well. In fact, Jesus encouraged his followers to prepare for suffering and to endure it with patience and kindness, choosing to be wronged rather than to wrong. This, more than anything, would be a witness to the world of who God is and what he is like (John 15).

We tend to desire power and fear suffering. We fear suffering so much we seek out power (we want to be right and we want control) so we has assurance that we won't be threatened by suffering. We see a small sign of persecution and we’re up in arms protesting with bullhorns from every possible angle imaginable and it’s usually not for the sake of justice or Jesus. It may be hard to hear but Phil Robertson getting pulled off a TV show for sharing his views on homosexuality (or perhaps the way in which he shared his views) is not persecution; it’s business and it is Hollywood. 

We need to learn to let go of controlling media, controlling politics, and dictating the operations and reputation of our society. We need to be okay with simply being in the society while we are faithful Christians. Let’s have good conduct full of patience, kindness, selflessness, as we avoid entitlement. Let’s stop placing value on reality television and focus more on good ol’ fashioned reality. 

What would our brothers and sisters say if they saw us standing on soap boxes about someone losing their role on a reality television series and calling it persecution when they’ve just watched their friend get their body mangled and destroyed for simply claiming Christ’s name in a country where that faith and its practices are outlawed? That’s a real dichotomy in this world and that’s a problem we must face.

Today is Christmas eve. Tomorrow we will celebrate the arrival of God in the form of a weak and poor human child. Jesus emptied himself of power and glory so as to enter into a lowly state, that he might rescue a wayward world. As we follow him, let us imitate him and loosen our grip of power and the pursuit of control. If Jesus wanted to find victory through power he’d have appeased Simon Peter and Satan by doing so (Matthew 4:8-11, 26:51-54) but he didn’t. So why should we?

Jesus suffered and we, if faithful, shall share those sufferings (it’s an unquestioned fact in the New Testament). Suffering isn’t the lack of a TV show or even an unwon internet debate. Suffering is losing limbs and friends, it is being burned, it is hurting physically, emotionally, mentally, and dying. It’s being imprisoned. It is being treated as less than human. Christian suffering is losing the only thing left to lose after you’ve offered all of your life to others (and even then it’s not losing). 

Even if we should suffer, we shouldn’t be troubled by it. We saw it coming. It’s the result of a good and loving life that is faithful to Christ’s way (1Peter). We would do well to rejoice in sharing Jesus’ sufferings. This is far greater than being right, being in power, or having the latest celebrity still on TV to represent Christians (as if Jesus’ kingdom needed mass media). 

No matter how you feel about some tv show, the gay-marriage debate, the “Christian” nature of the nation, or Jesus, one thing is certain: we’re called to live out a selfless love and imitate the Christ who chose to suffer instead of take up power when given the chance(s). As we celebrate Christmas let us ask the question “How am I pursuing power and how do I repent?” 

Then, let us answer with our lives by following Jesus’ teachings and example. Let us choose weakness and be pleased to sit in the manager with our victorious King who gives himself completely. More could be said about the many facets of this topic but this is where we should always land. We should live like Jesus as suffering servants who find true power in giving ourselves away.

Advent & Being Incarnational

Advent is the season in which we celebrate the incarnation. The incarnation is the title given to God becoming flesh. In Jesus, we see God become weak and enter into the world in the form of a human being. Not only does God become man and come to be with us but he does it in humility but entering into the world as a baby, through the womb of the virgin Mary. There is more beauty in this than I have time or ability to write but I pray the beauty finds you (perhaps in some great books, prayers, and songs).

The term incarnation is an important one for us. Sometimes we hear pastors, theologians, and communities say we, as Christians and churches, ought to be incarnational. “We need incarnational ministries” and the like. It’s a good word and it is also a buzzword. More than anything, it is a reality of grace and blessing. 

As we focus on Jesus’ incarnation during this advent season I challenge us to also think of what this incarnation means for us as a people and to see the incarnation as transcending the nativity. What I mean is that Jesus doesn’t stop being the incarnation after the opening chapters of the gospels and God doesn’t end his strategy of incarnation with the person of Jesus. No, there aren’t more incarnations. Rather, God continues incarnation with his covenant people known as the Church.

The Church is known as the Body of Christ (1 Corinthians 10:16, 12, Romans 7:4, 12:4-8). 1 John 4:17 states, “By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world.” In other words, we are just like Jesus in this world. When Jesus ascending into heaven to sit at the right hand of the Father he left us with his peace and his ministry of reconciliation (John 14:15-31, 2 Corinthians 5). When we partake of the bread and wine in the Eucharist (communion) we are united to Christ and one another as his very body on this earth. We look like him in conduct, as individuals and as a community, and we really truly are bound together with Christ through our conduct and the eucharist. We truly carry on his work in the world, as his ambassadors and his body. He do the work of God on earth, reconciling humans to one another and to their Creator.

But how does this connect to Advent? 

I often think of the words of Luke 2:14 when the angels proclaim the news of the incarnated messiah to shepherds in the field saying, “Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among those with whom he is pleased!” (ESV, NASB). We have often heard the King James Version which states, “Peace on earth and good will towards men.” 

Mere days before the beginning of Advent, Black Friday proves that there is not a peace all over the earth or even a whole lot of good will towards men. The newspapers, TV stations, and blogs show us that we’re still in waiting for this to feel true. So why isn’t it true and what does this have to do with incarnation and the Church as a people?

It doesn’t feel true because 1) we live in a tension where God’s kingdom is “already/not yet.” This means that the kingdom has come but not in it’s entirety and we live in a world that has victory in Christ but an enemy that has yet to surrender or become fully destroyed (rest assured, it’s coming). We’re to live in the “already” aspect of this tension with faith and hope in the “not yet” aspect. That’s hard because the world doesn’t operate as heaven does and we’re expected to do it anyway. By the way, that’s not an impossibility with Christ, it’s just scary and hard. This is also why we don’t tend to feel as though we have peace on earth or good will towards men; we don’t live it. 

All Christ did himself he gave to us to also do. That doesn’t mean we save ourselves, it means we live as he lived and taught. It means we share his hope for the coming judgment when all people get what they deserve and all is made right. It means we are able to forgive instead of taking vengeance. It means we can choose suffering instead of power over others. In Christ, in the incarnation we are empowered to set aside fear and live in love. Christ came to earth to bring his peace (the Hebrew word is shalom and it means a holistic positive/proactive peace for all of life). Christ left earth and gave us his peace with his Spirit. 

If the peace is not present we must ask if we are being people of peace. Are we becoming weak as Christ became weak? Are we suffering instead of seeking power? Are we loving instead of fearing? I’m not just talking about the big scale of life. I’m talking about how we budget, make purchases, talk to stranger, interact with friends, handle conflict, encounter enemies, go to work, learn at school, eat our meals, and more. Are we being a people of peace?

That’s not an easy question. What does it even mean to be a people of peace? It looks like loving justice. It looks like Jesus on the cross and us accepting that same fate in every moment/decision of our lives. Will I dine with people when it’ll cause me suffering? Will I spend my money in a way that blesses others and doesn’t keep me comfortable? Will I refuse to treat my enemies in any way that isn’t truly kind and generous? 

It’s too easy for me to make this issue about nonviolence, and it’s about that at a point, but it is much more. It’s about embracing Jesus and the means of our holy God in all aspects of life. Nothing should be left untouched by the incarnational power of Christ. We must always choose to become empty and weak for the sake of others and we must always be generous, kind, and forgiving. We must be inclusive and welcoming all people into our arms, homes, and communities because we care about their peace. 

Originally I wanted to write this blog and bring it around to Christian pacifism but instead I find it better to simply say that the call to be incarnational goes beyond that and if we are truly incarnational we will have no choice but to abandon our willingness to resort to means of violence in any given situation just as we will abandon our greed, elitism, fear, and all other sinful ways that sent Jesus to weakness and the cross (though his love drove him to it equally as much as our sin). 

Let us live by hope and by joy and by peace and by love this Advent. Let us embrace the incarnation of Jesus by mirroring him in this world today together. May 1John 4:17 be true of us.

“By this is love perfected with us, so that we may have confidence for the day of judgment, because as he is so also are we in this world.”