Blu: Round 5

This Wednesday, August 27th, begins the 5th year of Blu. I wish I had the time to write out a thought- provoking and clever blog, but I do not. Instead, as a reader of this blog I ask for your prayers. We have been praying for salvation to begin in the hearts of many of our students that have sat in Blu year after year without beginning to serve and follow Christ. Also, we have been praying for active discipleship in the students of Blu. We know that this looks different in every single student, but we are really asking God to give us insight into how we can "co-labor" with Him in the process.
If you are a student, make sure to be here Wednesday at 7pm.
See you at Blu!

Bryce

(Just for fun I added a picture of the original "Blu Team")

How Movies Have changed my life. Not only changed, but Directed.

Tom Cruise to Ken Watanabe: “A life of service and discipline.”
It was this exchange- this line- that set my professional life in motion. I knew, right then in the United Artists Theater, what I would do with my life. (And no, it wasn't to be a frustrated civil war veteran who embraced the inner healing he found in Shintoism.) The next morning, I awoke earlier than usual in order to catch the sanctuary before the morning clean started. It was a Tuesday. I was 18. I snuck in through a side entrance, turned on the stage lights, and found a seat in the middle of row 8. I was sitting there on the northeast section, surrounded by 1500 chairs, and I merely bowed my head and prayed. My prayer was simple. “I give you, God, the rest of my life.” I knew what I meant. I did not quite know what it would mean. I would live and I would die in ministry. A life of service. A life of discipline.

Months earlier I had rented Meet Joe Black. As the credits rolled, I knew I had to make one of the most important decisions of my life. 18-year-old private school students shouldn’t have to make these kinds of decisions. But I did. I grabbed my phone. I left my shoes. I walked into the cool, September air. I walked past my elementary school. I walked past a field in which I had rode my bike and played war with the neighbor kids. I walked past my brother’s childhood best friend's house. And somewhere, on Rosemont street between 13th and 15th street, 8 blocks from where I grew up- I decided who I would marry. I called her. I told her I loved her. I started on my way home- barefoot. I did not tell her that night what I had chosen, nor have I ever.

But today, as I sit in my church office after just getting off the phone with my wife- I am happy. You see, choices are the hardest things in life. They are hard because they have consequences. They have lasting effect. And there are rarely do-overs.

What makes life decision choices so hard is the difference between dreams and fantasies.
We choose our fantasies. We construct them. We add to them. We perfect them. We even sometimes go as far as to plan them. But our dreams choose us. We do not control them. We do not get to edit them. We simply experience them. They are a mix of what has gone before, what is, and what might be. They are our reality in a not-yet-real state. We construct fantasies because we are afraid to chase our dreams. In actuality, there is no chasing involved. Rather, it is an act of taking. Taking the opportunities that lie in front of us, rather than running towards the myth of a future life filled with opportunity and ease. Dreams require action. They require reality. They require a decision.

My decision, both professionally and privately, was to live my dream. To jump in. To allow it to be messy and meaningful. Painful and poignant. I chose my life. The life God set in front of me- inside of me. And here I am living it. And my life…is good.

The Most Obvious Spiritual Illustration of the Decade

Two weeks ago my wife told me how excited she was to watch the upcoming Olympic Games in Beijing. She was surprised that I was not as excited as she was to watch the Games. It was my opinion, and has been for quite some time, that the Olympics is the time in which sports that do not matter whatsoever get air-time every four years. And we, like lemmings, watch and cheer for the American Bad-Minton Team, the Czech Trap Shooting Individualist, and the American Women’s 20km Speed Walking Team (yes, its an actual Olympic Event: Competitive Walking).

But Sara convinced me to watch the Games the opening weekend. On Sunday night, I was skeptically watching the Men’s swimming when something happened. Suddenly I was overcome by a deep feeling and fan fair. Suddenly, Michael Phelps mattered to me. Suddenly I had to have eight gold medals. I was overcome with passion for an entire week of my life. I watched all 17 of Michael Phelps races. I watched him break 8 world records while winning 8 gold medals. I celebrated with his mother as if I was in the stands with her. I was even a little hoarse on Monday morning after screaming so loudly during Jason Lezak’s come behind victory over the French swimmers to secure for Phelps his second gold medal of the competition.

On Sunday afternoon, a special was aired on Phelps about his training and how he came to be the greatest swimmer of all time. From the time of 11-years-old, Michael Phelps’ entire life was consumed by swimming. He trained nearly every single day. Everything he did was in pursuit of victory. What he ate, how much he slept, who his friends were, where he went to school, what he did in his free-time, EVERYTHING! Also, everything that he neglected was because of swimming. All the sports he didn’t play. All the girls he didn’t date. All the high school moments he missed out on because of practice and dedication. Giving up his childhood every single day in hope of a future that was completely uncertain.

But on August 17th, after going a perfect 8 for 8, it was all worth it. All the practice, the weight training, the dedication. The sacrifice was not in vain. The sacrifice of time, friends, and a social life suddenly seemed like nothing compared to the victory that had just been achieved.

It truly did encourage me in my spiritual life. Paul says in Philippians that he counted “all as loss” that did not pertain to Christ. In this Christian life, we are modeling our entire lives in pursuit of a future goal. And often times, for a future that seems uncertain.

Isaiah 40:31 says, “Those who wait on the Lord shall renew their strength…” The word wait means to order ones current activities around a future event.

Our lives are not our own. Rather, we are living them for Christ. For His glory. In response to His sacrifice. We are waiting on Him. As Christians, we can take encouragement from the Olympics. Everything we do now must be with the perspective of the future prize. What we eat and do not eat. What we spend our time on and what we don’t spend it on. Where we are in our free time. Who are friends are. Phelps sacrificed every single day of his young life, and it paid off. He didn’t just wait until a month before the Olympics and decide to wake up 30 minutes early and swim. His sacrifice was his life.

We do not have a scheduled competition. We do not know when our games begin and end. I believe this is because we are both training and competing simultaneously at all times. We can both win and practice every moment of our lives (which means we can also lose). Greatness is not created on some stage or podium or in some pool in Beijing. Rather, Greatness is forged when no one is looking. Early in the morning and late at night. During times when others are involved with the cares of this world. Our goal cannot be reached in the moment, but rather in all the moments between then and now.

I hope that I can continue to be encouraged and reminded by these Games. Sacrifice and purposeful neglect are painful yet very powerful. There is power in not living for now. We wait on the Lord not by sitting and looking, but rather by jumping in the pool while everyone else is at the Prom. We change what we do in the present because of what we know will come in the future.

I Wish I had a Middle- Eastern Friend with an Alternative Lifestyle

Most days at work for me are very similar. Now I do different things or go to different meetings, but they are pretty much the same. It doesn’t always bother me, because I like routine. I like habit. Most days, most things are very similar. I pretty much wear the same combination of clothes every day (not the same clothes, just the same style). I drive 3 different ways to work, varying my route every day depending on my mood. I usually eat lunch at 1 of 3 places. I have a routine when I get in the office. Tuesdays are usually the most bland day of the week for me. Pretty vanilla. But last Tuesday was an oasis in the desert that is my habitual work day.

I have grown up loving music. My parents were Baptist. No cussing (unless sports were involved). No sagging. No skateboarding. No Disney movies for a long season of time. No Fresh-Prince of Bel-Air. They were conservative on almost every issue. Except music. For Christmas as an 8-year-old I received a Sony Walkman from my mom. I received only one cassette that Christmas- Abbey Road- from my dad. He didn’t buy me another album for 9 months. He said I needed a good musical foundation (Abbey Road is still my all-time favorite album to this day). We used to listen to Guns-N-Roses when my mom wasn’t around. My dad told me I should hate John Travolta (except for in Pulp Fiction), because John Travolta was the physical embodiment of Disco (the enemy of Rock n Roll). Somehow, my Mom was simultaneously teaching me to appreciate the movie Grease…it wasn’t long until my dad caught wind. He put a very sudden stop to this. (I think my dad could beat up Danny Zuko.)

Anyway, as I was driving to work after lunch the other day I turned the radio on and couldn’t find a good song on any station. (Which brings me to a theory: that at most times all songs playing at the same time on any given person’s preset radio positions are of the same quality at all times…meaning there is never just one good song on at a time. Fate wills you to choose between Strawberry Wine or Champagne Supernova. Between Gangsta’s Paradise or Summer of ’69. Or, all the songs on at that time just suck. Or they are all on commercial. Radio commercials make me want to throw a Molotov Cocktail through a pet shop window) But on this day, there was only one good song on the radio- “Fat Bottomed Girls” by Queen.

It was right at the beginning of the song. I turned the volume up. I was suddenly happier. I started to drive faster. (A direct result of louder music) As the voice of Freddie Mercury came ringing through the speakers, I found myself singing every single word. Now I don’t know how on earth I know nearly every single word to that song- but I do. In fact, as I sang out embarrassingly loud, I found myself wondering if Brian May still had that same haircut (my mom had a similar haircut in the 90's). Another mystery- how do I know who Brian May is? I mean, who does?!?! (Besides, of course, your dad) But how do I know the names of the members of this band, plus all the words to a staggering number of their songs? This world is full of mysteries.

The song ended and I knew that I had to have more. I came into my office and bought Queen’s greatest hits. Over the next 2 hours, I read everything I could find out about Queen. I also watched some of their live performances. They sound every bit as good live as they do on the album. (Like Axl Rose…HA!)

Freddie Mercury died of Aids in 1991. I was six-years-old. I didn’t know what that was back then. I do now. I also am now old enough to know that the content of “Fat Bottomed Girls” is not suitable for children under the age of puberty.

I shouldn’t like Queen. Its not really Rock n Roll. It exists somewhere between drama and music. Its like listening to theatre (not theatre like The Who’s Tommy- real theatre). I shouldn’t like Queen because their lead singer is a Middle Eastern that died of AIDS. Growing up in Texas as a Baptist, this combination might have qualified him to be the Anti-Christ. I shouldn’t like Queen because I can’t relate to any of their songs. The world is not out to get me. Who am I going to “rock” anyway?!?!

But the truth is, I really like Queen. I wish I could see Queen in concert. I wish Brian May would come to my birthday party. I wish Freddie Mercury was my friend. (Just friends, though)

These were the thoughts going through my head last Tuesday afternoon as I drove home from work. It had been a good day. And that night, I wore a Queen t-shirt.

Revival. Chapter Three.

The following is the third part in a series about Revival. I would encourage you to read the first two chapters. Without those two posts, this third will make no sense. Thanks for reading.

ACTIVITY
And in this is found the Activity. The activity of walking from darkness into His marvelous light. The activity of pursuing Him morning, noon, and night. The activity of desire. Of pursuit. Of obsession. Of addiction.





We are the Object. He is the Standard. He has Awakened us out of our Dormancy. We must find our Activity in Him. When we cannot find Him, our Activity must become a search. When we find Him, our Activity must become rest. He has still left us with two things: A Promise and a Purpose.

The Promise: He is coming quickly! We will see Him. We will know His voice and His walk. We will be with Him. What that will be like I cannot say. I cannot say how or when. But I do know that He is not a man that He should lie. He is coming for me, for us. To take us home one final time. He will not leave us. He will not forsake us.

The Purpose: Seek Him. With all our heart and desire. With all of our strength and energy. With all of our thoughts. And as we find Him, share Him. Give Him to the lost and hurting. Give him to the stagnant and dormant. I believe that sharing Him as we receive Him is like the Feeding of the Five Thousand. The more we break the Bread of Life for the purpose of bringing life to others, the more it is multiplied in our hands.

Revival begins in the hearts of people, and it ends in the Heart of Christ. In His image. In His Promise. In His Purpose.






*(Let me note here that I am not talking about the kind of Christians that only attend church on Easter and Christmas. They don’t count. Rather, I am talking about you and me. The ones that are there every week. Those that feel bad for not reading the Bible enough. We feel bad, just not bad enough to change. We serve. We raise our hands. We vote against abortion. We speak in tongues during corporate prayer meetings. We also know that we are pretty much more “spiritual” than anyone we know. In fact, we know that we can stand before God someday and show Him all the things we did for Him. The only problem is that in the deepest parts of who we are, we are unsure if we really know Him. Which causes us to read quickly over Matthew 7:21-23. Yes, we can teach about Him. But we might be more like the Pharisees than we are like Mary and Martha.)

Revival. Chapter Two.

THE OBJECT
The Object of Revival can be two things. It is first individuals. It is second the collective whole. Acts 2 happened, I believe, because 120 individuals had just spent 3 years following their Savior. They had seen Him like no one else in History has ever seen Him. They knew His voice. They knew how He walked. How he talked. They were acquainted with His entire person. They saw Him love. The saw Him laugh. They saw Him when He was angry. They saw Him weep…on more than one occasion. They also saw Him die. They knew pain and frustration like most will never know. But then they saw the greatest miracle in the history of the world. They saw Him! They saw Him again! We must never skip over this part of the story as if it’s just another detail to be noted. It is not the detail. IT IS THE TALE! He rose again. He spoke again. He who was no more now is again. And He was there with them. And less than six weeks later, He went home. But He left them with two things: A Promise and a Purpose. A promise that He would return. A purpose to reach the whole world. To be like Him for all peoples at all times.
Therefore, 120 individuals went into a room for 10 days. They opened the Law and Prophets. They found Jesus of Nazareth on every page. They remembered. They strengthened themselves in Him. Then they prayed. They prayed to the God that had become both their Savior and Friend. They prayed. They waited. And then, the Spirit of God came. Salvation came. Power came. And then, they went out. They left that room filled with the memory of a promise but the urgency of their purpose. Revival happens to individuals. And as it grows, those individuals become a body. That is the beauty of our God. He wants me. But He also wants us. I am the Object of Revival. But so are We.

STATE OF DORMANCY
Where I believe most Christians dwell is in Dormancy. Never realizing there is a great need for something more. Never realizing the dire situation in which they dwell. This is dangerous. This is when the hammer believes its purpose is to sit in the toolbox. To collect dust. The hammer has found its place. It comfortable to be apart of the culture of tools. It knows its home- its routine. It has its seat. Its companions. It has fellowship with the other tools. It doesn’t get scratched or wounded.

Most Christians (yes, even of the Charismatic variety) are pretty content with the toolbox. They have their favorite service to attend, favorite preacher to hear, favorite songs to sing. They have their place.* They are happy. Not necessarily filled with joy, but pretty content. But we, like the hammer, were created for something.

A hammer was not created for the toolbox, but rather the opposite is true. The hammer was created for the work. The hammer must be picked up. Its purpose must be realized. Its need must be felt. There is a work to be done, and the hammer must play its part. Yes it might be wounded and scratched, but the prize is worth the pain.

AWAKENING
There must be an Awakening. I believe this is the point in which many believers are coming to. We are sitting up in our comfortable toolboxes. We are no longer content to collect dust from the routine and grind of stagnation. We love the wrench and socket, but we have a purpose, and we must take the leap- Even if they don’t. But how? How does one realize its purpose when it requires an outside object to wield it?

I would like to venture two guesses on this matter.
1. The first must be the Spirit of God. The Spirit of God must first awaken the heart of a believer. He must pick up the tool. He must begin to wipe off the dust and rust. He must let his hand become accustomed to the grip. He must feel the weight. Like an old man picking up his 9-iron. There must be a renewed since of knowledge between the tool and the builder. Since God has no need of remembering or growing in knowledge, the part is left to play mostly on our part. We must remember our maker. We must remember the feel of His grip on our lives. We must learn His ways, His heart, His feel. We must come to the place of surrender. Without Him, we are merely metal in a box. But with Him in control, we become a tool in the Hand of the Creator. A brush in the hand of the painter. An arrow in the bow of a hunter. There is no pride in the tool. Only complete appreciation and dependence. At this point of surrender, the work can begin.

I believe revival begins in the heart of a person when God in His infinite grace a mercy gently whispers, “Are you ready for more?” Most times it is expressed by the believer as, “There must be more.” Although filled with frustration and angst, this may be one of the most lovely of all God’s gifts to man. Holy Desire. It is often accompanied by pain. By tears. By loneliness. For me, it is accompanied by hatred. Not of anyone or anything. It is hatred for the current situation. Hatred of my own apathy. Hatred of the dust and rust in my life. But it does not end in hatred or frustration. Rather, hatred turns to movement. Although I do not know how or where to find Him, I know that I must! I must crawl out of bed. Out of my routine. I must run. I must crawl and climb. I must search high and low. Late and early. And although this does not feel like revival, this is it. What was once dormant has been awakened. It is hungry. It is thirsty. It must be filled.

2. The second outside object that brings Revival, I believe, can be a person. But not just a person who merely thinks more might be out there. A person who is hungry and thirsty for God in the most real of ways. A person who has searched and is searching for God in all things. Seeking for More like it is a treasure that could be behind any tree or hill. But a treasure that must be searched for with all diligence and passion. It is not the preparation of the Revivalist that stirs men to move. But rather, I believe it is hunger. A holy hunger that will not be satiated by any food. A hunger that will drive the Revivalist even if he is the only one searching. But this is the mercy of God. He uses people to reach people. Hunger breeds hunger. Frustration is contagious…especially when it is a Holy Frustration. The Revivalist can never become occupied with The Movement, but must stay occupied with movement. Meaning, it can never be about a “revival.” It must be about reviving what was dormant and sleeping. It must be about searching for the pearl of great price. It must be about the endless quest to find Christ and become more like Him.

Revival. Chapter One.

The following essay is a collection of thoughts I have been having for some time that I recently penned down. I will post the rest of the writings over 3 installments. Please check them out.



REVIVAL
An Attempt at Understanding


Before a Revival can take place in the heart of any people, it must first take place in the hearts of its people.

• Revive-  to bring back to life consciousness, or activity: to make or become fresh or strong again: to bring back into use.

Revival may be one of the most popular themes and phrases in Christian dialect. It seems to be a carrot on a stick that Christianity as a whole seems to be only one prayer meeting or sermon away from finding. This is an attempt to examine revival for the purpose of meager understanding. The purpose in writing this is not for sensationalism. But rather it is the thoughts that have clouded my head for months now. It is the thoughts that have been birthed in the deepest parts of who I am. It is what I want. For me and for us. And even for them (whoever them may be).

Like most things in Christianity, Revival is not the end goal, but rather part of a process.
Therefore a few things must precede revival. First, some sort of standard that at one point had been achieved. Some standard that at one time had been met. Second, there must be an object that is in need of reviving. Third, there must be a state of dormancy. A state of inactivity. There must be a state of weakness or uselessness. Then, and perhaps most importantly, there must be an initial point of awakening. An awakening to the realization of both the present state but also the potential for something more. This is the point of Revival. Finally, there must be a point of activity or purpose. This is simply the carrying out of what revival has already begun.

The Five Elements of Revival
1. The Standard
2. The Object
3. State of Dormancy
4. Awakening
5. Activity

THE STANDARD
The Standard, although it seems simple, often gets polluted. The standard is not David. Nor is the standard Paul or Peter. In fact, they are merely towns we pass on the way to our destination. If we are driving to Dallas, reaching Childress is certainly a goal. We rest here. We eat at McDonalds. But we cannot stay.
Nor is the standard Acts 2. That was a moment in history. Acts 2 was a reaction, caused by another action that created the most miraculous acts in history. But still, it is not the goal.
The Standard, the goal, the destination is JESUS. Not just to reach Him, but to behold Him and, in a moment, become like Him. Whether in this life or the next, we must never waiver on this goal. We can find rest all along the journey, but we must not cease to move towards Him. Revival looks like Jesus. Lots of Jesus’ running around. First, preaching the kingdom. Calling for repentance. Pointing to the Father. Lots of Jesus’ filled with an unending supply of self-less love. Lots of Jesus’ with no other agenda than being led by the Spirit towards God and also towards people. Lots of Jesus’ filled with power. Filled with prophecy. Filled with a Spirit the world has rarely seen. Yes miracles. Yes healing. Yes salvation. But most importantly, YES JESUS!

(check back in the next couple of days for Chapter Two)