Just Go...

“Let your light shine everywhere you go…”—Matthew 5:16

It has taken nearly 40 years of this Walk to begin to put feet to a deeply-embedded heart desire:

“What happens in church doesn’t stay in church.”

I’ve given up fighting the unwinnable war of “sacred vs. secular.”

Because the Word is really true:

“And whatever you do in word and deed, do it all in the Name of the Lord.”

Whatever.

I’ve given up fighting the imaginary battle between walking the sacred Sunday morning Walk versus walking out all the personal interests and the (unsinful) pleasures of living life that God has put in me before I was in my mother's womb so that I can live healthily in body, mind and spirit while also reflecting Him and enjoying Him in all that I do.

Not to mention the God-ordained responsibilities of daily life and of simply being an ambassador of Himself as a human being in the midst of it all, and among a sea of fellow humans.
The war is over.
Or at least, it's getting there.

I’ve been exchanging a years-long fear of what it means to be “in the world but not of it” (fearful hint: don’t get any on ya!) for a healthier realization that this Life was never meant to be either/or but both.
By all means, be as wise as an owl, but by all means, carry your light with you, and your salt shaker, too.

Sunday mornings are awesome. They are vital for getting perspective on what and Who is truly worthy of worship, for getting your eyes off of yourself for once, for encouragement for the Journey ahead, for comfort for the battles at hand, and for getting rooted and grounded in who Christ is what His Word promises.

But all of that so that He and it can uniquely shine through each one as we head out the door into the week.

To remember that the Church gathered is meant to be a bubble to be wonderfully burst, not to be safe and comfortable and uber-focused on what happens within its four walls 24/7.

Most of all, to remember that Jesus’ final words before ascending began with:

“Go…”

To remember that your mission field could be in a land far away but more likely it’s right in your own back yard, 

And in and through the things and interests and places and people that God has poured into your life for His purposes...

...To remember, as was the case this week, that He loves answering our crazy “go” prayers:

Like knowing someone who was going through an incredibly dark valley and who worked in a very public place and wanting, somehow, to be able to pray for them without their embarrassment—and then to walk into that very public place that somehow was empty of people, except for you and the friend in need.

And so that “go” prayer, and human touch, happened, bringing tears, smiles, and gratitude, and just maybe, hope for someone in need to keep going and looking Up.

There is nothing like a Sunday morning being-in-His-presence sort of day—even the psalmist didn’t want to leave.

But even better is carrying an in-His-presence sort of day with you and through you.

To just “Go into all your world…”

“Often, you can see the power lines running alongside the street. Unless current is flowing through them, there is no light. The power line is you and I! The current is God! We have the power to allow the current to flow through us and thus generate the Light of the world: Jesus—or, to refuse to be used and, thus, allow the darkness to spread.”—Mother Theresa

Head to the Heart

Photo: Warren Grieve (pixabay.com)

"I open up to You, this Love that makes me new; Oh may my heart receive this Love that carries me..."—United Pursuit

Mind shift: Sundays were never meant to be the sighing end to another too-short weekend. They were never meant to be just another day among seven. Sundays were meant to be glorious, no matter the weather, because Sundays are God's weekly reminder to our world-numbed souls of the Resurrection that changed, and still changes... everything.

"It's Friday...but Sunday's coming!"

A weekly reminder that on that first glorious Sunday morning many centuries ago, a bunch of men and women who walked closely with Jesus for about three years were running frantically to and from an empty tomb trying to wrap their brains and hearts around what was going on, and the angel's words of shock and awe, "He is risen, just as He said."

Resurrection power is like that. It is mind-blowing and beyond comprehension, no matter how often you spout the words "He is risen!" aloud, or nod your head to the many times Jesus said it was going to happen.

Until it happens to you—when God awakens you from the dead of your own thinking and way of life and calls you to step into the glorious known yet unknown, where life is full and alive and has no end, and is totally upside down to all that you've been led to believe.

Some people have pretty dramatic resurrection experiences, and these friends stir my faith like few others can. But the Gospels indicate that some of the most resistant ones to come alive were often those who grew up going to synagogue, were pretty decent people overall, and who "got it" pretty well up in their brain. But that's where it was entombed, never connecting to the heartbeat of life...

...."The religion scholar said, 'A wonderful answer, Teacher! So lucid and accurate—that God is one and there is no other. And love Him with all passion and intelligence and energy, and loving others as well as you love yourself. Why, that's better than all offerings and sacrifices put together!' When Jesus realized how insightful he was, He said, 'You're almost there, right on the border of God's kingdom."

(Mark 12:32-34, The Voice)

For 27 years, I was that guy. "Right on the border." But not for much longer. Because even though I didn't know it at the time, someone was praying. Several someones, in fact. (Rabbit trail: never give up!)

And then there was that strange moment when some "voice" or loud impression or whatever within spoke to me while out on the town one night: "You are at a crossroads. Which road will you take?" And all of that at about the time I was singing in the church choir because I liked to sing but far from God and yet being strangely drawn like a magnet to a simple gospel song: "Because He lives, I can face tomorrow..." Because it was my grandmother's favorite song at the time, and I really loved her, and she wasn't well, and she was the first person I knew who loved Jesus like He was more than a historical figure.

And then one day, just a few weeks before another Resurrection Sunday, all those seemingly random elements came together: Love broke through the roadblock between the head and heart. It came unannounced, almost quietly and yet with a burning, unexplainable something-something inside. I wanted, like those first men and women, to run like the wind. It was resurrection power that was shocking and beyond comprehension at first, and then altogether amazing and wonderful. ....

"From the head to the heart, You take me on a journey of letting go and getting lost in You..."

But Sundays are a reminder that resurrection isn't a one and done thing. Some 16 years later, resurrection power reached even deeper. It is one thing to be on the outside looking in, to try to be a good person yet being "almost there, right on the border of God's kingdom." It is another thing entirely to have Love break through culture's tomb of performance, even in a church: A deeply engrained lie that to please people and even God, you just need to do good stuff and more of it.

Ministry burn out.

I had never been "one of those hand raisers," but in a single moment of desperate surrender, up they went. It felt like being in one of those wooden barrels where the bands began to snap off one by one. A new resurrection: Relationship, not performance, won the day and won my heart. And for the first time, I began to understand what real worship, even beyond a song, was all about.

I was reminded of all of that while reading these words from the late Brennan Manning in "The Furious Longing of God"...

"How is that we've come to imagine that Christianity consists primarily in what we do for God? How has this come to be the good news of Jesus? Is the kingdom that He proclaimed to be nothing more than a community of men and women who go to church on Sunday, take an annual spiritual retreat, read their Bibles every now and then, oppose abortion, don't watch x-rated movies, never use vulgar language, smile a lot, hold doors open for people, root for the favorite team, and get along with everybody? Is that why Jesus went through the bleak and bloody horror of Calvary? Is that why He emerged in shattering glory from the tomb? Is that why He poured out His Holy Spirit on the Church? To make men and women with better morals?

The Gospel is absurd and the life of Jesus is meaningless unless we believe that He lived, died, and rose again with but one purpose in mind: to make brand new creations. Not to make people with better morals but to create a community of prophets and professional lovers, men and women who would surrender to the mystery of the fire of the Spirit that burns within, who would live in ever greater fidelity to the omnipresent Word of God, who would enter into the center of it all, the very heart and mystery of Christ, into the center of the flame that consumes, purifies, and sets everything aglow with peace, joy, boldness, and extravagant, furious love. This, my friends, is what it really means to be a Christian. [It] never begins with what we do for God. It always starts with what God has done for us."

For all who come this way on not just another Sunday, and in between all the other resurrection Sundays to come, more of that...and more of You, from the head to the heart.

[Adapted from 4-16-17]

"There’s no shame in looking like a fool, when I give you what I can’t keep to take a hold of You."