Good.

"God saw everything that he had made, and indeed, it was very good. And there was evening and there was morning, the sixth day." (Genesis 1:31)

In the first words of the Bible, the book of Genesis, we hear an account of the creation of the world. If it has been a long time since you have read this, click here. It is only 31 verses and will take just a minute or two for you to read. Go back. Follow the link. What is stunning is that at the end of each day's creation, God says one thing...

It is good.
This is a profound statement to make about something you have created.

When we create things, we often downplay them. When my daughter creates something in art class, we are quick to praise it, but she often wavers. We'll say, "that's beautiful!" She'll say, "it's ok." I think this is something we have been taught culturally. Don't be full of yourself. Don't be arrogant. Be humble. Sometimes, this cultural message makes it hard to be proud of things we have done or created.

God does not have this issue.

When God looks at the creation, the words are simple. "This is GOOD."

It is easy for us to believe this is true in those first six days of creation...

But it is true in our hearts as well.

There are things about you that are GOOD. Think for a moment about the people who love you; what would THEY tell me was good about you? What is it that those who love you...love ABOUT you? Those things, whatever they are...are most likely also the things God sees in you and says, "This is GOOD."

So the first question is this: Do you believe there are GOOD things about you that God can use?
If not, go back and re-read the first part of this devotion.

After we allow ourselves to believe that there really are good things about us that God can use, the next question is simple: HOW is God using those good things in the world? Or how COULD God use those?

My favorite thing about St. Luke, or about ANY mission-driven church, is that the outreach and impact the church can make is not dependent on the pastor. When surrounded by so many of God's GOOD creations, my job is to release that into the world; to affirm the gifts I see in you; to empower and encourage you to find small, daily ways to take what is GOOD in you and let God impact those around you. In a healthy system of disciples who KNOW their gifts and are WILLING to use them, the pastor is like an air-traffic controller, simply making sure we are all coordinated and pointing in the direction we are called to go.

Look in the mirror. Hear the creation words..."it is good." Now go. Use your "good" to impact those places in your path today...

...and THANK YOU for being modern disciples. It is an honor to be your air traffic controller!

For all who call St. Luke home

"I do not cease to give thanks for you as I remember you in my prayers..."
Ephesians 1:16

I am feeling profoundly grateful tonight...

...grateful for you, the ones reading this post.

...grateful for the people of St. Luke, and all the ways you have allowed yourself to be "used" by God.

...grateful for volunteers disciples who spend late nights at church rehearsing music, inspiring kids, planning budgets, vacuuming floors, baking pizza, running microphone cords, planning service days; all so the world might know that God cares by watching His people care.

Why am I grateful for you? Because I get to see the effects of your ministry.

I get to see the man strengthened who needed to know he wasn't alone.
I get to see the woman who will avoid homelessness because of your generosity.
I get to see the piles of materials donated by you that will be distributed to the community this Saturday at Operation InAsMuch.
I get to see a room full of 9th graders who are convinced God can use them in the world because you taught them by example.
I get to see all the ways the community is touched by St. Luke's presence.

You have allowed the Spirit to flow through the "institution" of the church in a way that touches lives, impacts a community, and changes hearts.

I am convinced the Church MATTERS.
That's just another way of saying YOU matter, followers of Christ.

So tonight, I want to say THANK YOU.
If you have greeted, sang, led youth, prayed, loved, served, or supported...I am grateful for you.

You are part of a world-wide, revolutionary movement of love.

THANK YOU, for allowing God's love to flow through you. It is an honor to be your pastor.
Don't ever doubt the difference you are making.

-Pr. Matt

To You, Before the Close of Day

This evening, I am filled with wonder at the mystery of the church...

In every form of church you can imagine - every denomination - every local sanctuary - church is a place that's full of beautiful and hurting souls.

Each of us is a combination of that beauty and pain every day...the things that make us who we are - our talents, our families and friends - our joys - all mixed in with the things that hold us back - our resentments - our fears - our anxieties. We are each a walking mix of all these things...

And the church is a mix of all of us...

And yet, God builds beautiful things through the church; God mends hurting souls; God reaches us when we can't, or won't, reach to Him. Every week - in simple things like bread and wine, water and words...God heals a broken world by putting us together piece by piece.

Tonight, I pray for you - whoever you are - reading this. I pray that God mends you where that is needed, convicts and challenges you where that is needed, and strengthens you where that is needed.

And I pray for the church - not just the one in Slinger - but the Church Universal - as God continues to deign to reach a mixed-up world through mixed-up people.

If you do attend that church in Slinger, thank you for being on this journey with me. Don't ever doubt that God is doing great things through you.

Tonight, I leave you with an evening hymn that has long been a favorite of mine. The YouTube version I'll attach below has the first verse in Latin. I've included the words we sing in our hymnal to be my prayer this evening as I lay it all down at the foot of the cross.

To You Before the Close of Day

To you, before the close of day,

Creator of the world, we pray.

Your grace and peace to us allow

and be our guard and keeper now.

Save us from troubled, restless sleep,

from all ill dreams your children keep;

so calm our minds that fears may cease

and rested bodies wake in peace.

A healthy life we ask of you,

the fire of love in us renew,

and when the dawn new light will bring,

your praise and glory we shall sing.

Creator, this we ask be done

through Jesus Christ, your only Son,

whom with the Spirit we adore,

with you, one God forevermore.

Amen.

Thoughts from the Road

Thoughts From the Road

Do you know what transforms someone from an observer to an ally? Relationship.

My family and I are in Washington, D.C. as I write this; sightseeing on our way to a family wedding. About 36 hours ago, as events continued to unfold in Ferguson, we were visiting the MLK Memorial.

  

After that, our final stop of the night was the Lincoln Memorial where we followed our tour guide’s instructions to find the inscription where Dr. King stood as he delivered his “I Have a Dream” speech.

It had been a long day of listening. Listening to tour guides, mostly.

So we sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial as night was falling across the National Mall.

There, on the steps, only feet away from where Dr. King spoke years ago, my 9-year-old daughter and I had the deepest conversation we have ever had. Now, she is only 9, so the conversation didn’t last long; but it felt like a glimmer of the beautiful woman she is becoming.

With her eyes watering, she looked out over the Mall at the Washington monument in the distance, and said; “Dad, this is amazing. So many important things happened here. I can’t believe I get to be here. I can’t believe this is where Martin Luther King, Jr said all those things. Can you imagine this whole place full of people?"

For a brief moment, it felt like I was talking to someone who was older than 9. So I tried to dive in to the momentarily-deep waters.

Like all kids her age, she has learned a few things about Dr. King in school. She knows he was a pastor, but I thought I would try to make the connection clear.

“Do you know why we go to church?” She seemed puzzled by the question.

“Because you are a pastor?” she said with a smile.

“Do you know why I am a pastor?” Another puzzled look.

“I am a pastor because I believe God cares for all people, and our faith gives us the courage to stand up and challenge things when they seem wrong.”

The light bulb went on. I saw it.

“Martin Luther King, Jr. was a pastor…” she said.

“Right. And do you know why he quoted the Bible so much? Because it is there that we learn that God frees slaves and cares for those who are on the outside.”

I saw her take this in as she looked out over the Mall. Just two weeks ago, she attended a Vacation Bible School program at our church that was focused on the Exodus story. So I made my final point. “That’s why the Exodus story was a favorite of those fighting for racial equality. It was a new version of that old story.”

She didn’t say any more. She just leaned in and snuggled into my arm as we both looked out over the place that had seen so many important moments.

As I looked out, I couldn’t help but feel a deep sense of conflict. I had read the news reports about Ferguson, and while I was so pleased that my daughter had made the connections she had made…I knew that miles from us, that old, old battle raged on. Yet here we sat, safe from it.

Information is powerful, no doubt. History lessons are a first step. I had those history lessons as a child. I was so fascinated by the differences between people that I majored in Sociology in college, specifically focusing on gender and racial differences. My mind and my bookshelves are full of dusty information. I could expound on the Invisible Knapsack of privilege I carry effortlessly as a white male. But do you know what first began to change my heart, and continues to do so when I allow it? Relationship.

Think about the times in your life when your position on something has changed. Often, it is because you knew someone personally affected by it.

When you know someone affected by an issue, it changes that issue for you. It is no longer at an arm’s length, to be debated by the intellectuals. It’s personal. You aren’t just talking about “those people,” you are talking about my brother, my sister, my cousin, or my close friend…and when that happens, change is given a chance.

Observers become allies when it’s personal.

But here’s the real point: when it’s personal, we listen.

When it’s not personal, we become defensive and turn the conversation so it is about us. There are millions of examples of this in Facebook comments and blog posts – where a person in a position of privilege becomes defensive and turns the conversation so it is about them and how they are suffering or wronged by the situation. How do I know this? Because I’ve done it. And I bet many of you have too.

But when it is someone I love, I am much more likely to just listen to their pain…not to explain it away, or make it about me. Just listen.  

This is my hope for my daughter…not that she majors in Sociology and learns about the toxic effects of privilege (though that would help her), but that she loves someone who is different from her and then just listens to them and their pain. That exchange changes hearts, and plans, and lives. It has changed mine, and I hope it continues to do so.

I certainly have nothing unique to contribute to the conversation swirling around Michael Brown’s death. I simply call on others like me – others who are both geographically and experientially distant from it – to listen. Listen to the pain of the family, and the community as though they were your family, and your community.

Don’t waste energy attempting to twist the autopsy reports to fit the version of the story that makes you most comfortable. Instead, imagine how you would feel if he was your brother.

Don’t dehumanize Mr. Brown based on assumptions of criminal behavior, as though his death would then be justified somehow. Instead, imagine how you would feel if he was your brother.

Don’t be distracted by the reports of looting or let those reports further harden your biases or hearts. Instead, imagine how you would feel if he was your brother.

My prayer for my daughter, and myself, and all of us is simple: may God grant us the courage and openness to listen to each other, and may God use what we hear to transform us from observers to allies. 

The End and The Beginning

Then he said to me, ‘It is done! I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning and the end. To the thirsty I will give water as a gift from the spring of the water of life. (Revelation 21:6)

Today, at 9:30 AM EST, bells all across the U.S. will toll 27 times.
Some websites will go dark.
Our President will mark a moment of silence.

Today, we remember the way the world came to an end a week ago for the families of the 20 children who never left their classroom.

Forget the Mayans, or our collective obsession with predicting Hollywood-style apocalypses as often as possible. The end did come. And it will come again.

For some, it was the end of innocence...at least for now. Innocence will return though, in fragile ways, but it will return.

For some, it was the end of the belief that at heart, people are actually good. Good still exists, though...it just exists beyond us, and our challenge is to daily invite it to dwell within us.

For some, it was the end of a myth...the myth of Mayberry, where small towns are not touched by the pain and suffering more obvious in urban environments.

Last Friday was the end of one world.

But God was already busy renewing and re-creating another world.
A world where myths motivate kindness, where Good infuses daily acts, and where innocence shows up in a new birth...even a birth 2000 years ago.

I have survived many times when my world ended. So have you.
And inevitably, I have always found some things shattered, but other things strengthened.
It usually isn't obvious when the foundations of my world are being shaken,
but the above promise from Revelation is true at a deeper level than we often realize.

Christ, and his love, are not just present in the cosmic beginning and ending,
but in all our beginnings and endings.

This is the profound truth behind the book of Revelation that we often miss when we are trying to manipulate it to be like our Hollywood apocalypses...
the truth is simple: God's Love will always have the final move.

Revelation isn't just about the year 1000, or 2000, or 2008 (remember that prediction?) or 2012. It is about today, and the daily struggle to cling to God's promises in the face of all sorts of "ends."

So, whether you are filled with the hope of new beginnings today, or the struggles of different "ends," know that all of it...ALL of it...is wrapped in God's love.

(And a tip of the hat to the Mayans for giving us another excuse to talk about the end of the world!
Any bets on when the next prediction will be?)

No Words...

There are no words tonight.

There are tears, and silence, and extra hugs.

There are screams, and confusion, and pain.

There are nightmares, and questions, and fists shaken to the sky.

"My God, my God, why have you forsaken us?

Why are you so far from helping us?" (Psalm 22:1)

But there are no words...at least no words that satisfy.

No words that fix.

No words that explain.

But...

There is love. 

There is always love.

You want a messy and imperfect summary of the Bible? There it is.

There is always love.

From prophets to preachers to a child in the manger to a rolled away stone...

the Bible bears witness to a God whose love breaks through, somehow, every time.

Today, it showed up in the selfless heroism of teachers and administrators...

in classes that huddled together behind locked doors and read stories while the horror unfolded...

in state police who ushered children from the school, eyes closed, to protect a shred of their innocence.

It's a messy love, one soiled in the evils we create, but it is there.

Imperfectly.

Imperceptibly sometimes.

But it is there.

And it will keep being there, no matter how much we try to bury it with pain.

Don't take my word for it - or my words. Those fail right now.

But these promises don't fail:

"...the word is very near to you; it is in your mouth and in your heart..." (Deutereonomy 30:14)

"For I am convinced that neither death, nor life...nor anything else in all creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ..." (Romans 8:38-39)

"...love is strong as death, passion fierce as the grave." (Song of Songs 8:6)

"...God is love." (1 John 4:8)

So now what?

Our response to this unspeakable evil will be as varied as the children in the heartbreaking picture above.

Some of us will want to keep our eyes closed, like the boy in the middle of the picture, and pretend this never happened. 

It's OK to feel that. 

Love can open eyes when it's time.

Some of us will need to wail like the girl in blue.

It's OK to feel that.

Love can calm the fears and tears when it's time.

Some of us will bravely face it all, like the police officers you see, doing so to be a strong rock for others.

It's OK to do that.

Love can use even our facade of courage.

And, some of us...many of us, I suspect...will simply hang our heads under the weight of this all,

like the girl in black.

It's OK to do that, too...

because Love has a funny way of raising our heads to greet even the faintest traces of a new dawn.

There might not be words, or answers, or any sense of justice, fairness, or reason...

But there is love.

There is always love.

Tonight, and in the days beyond, may we all rest in that fierce, messy, persistent love that will not let the world go.

And may we do whatever we can to reflect that love toward those who need it most.

The light shines in the darkness...and the darkness will not overcome it.

Amen.

My Cup Overflows

Below, I share one of my favorite poems dealing with Thanksgiving.
It reminds me that when I truly try to count all my blessings, I will be overwhelmed,
because I won't be able to count it all.

My prayer for you, as you read this poem, and as you gather with family and friends tomorrow,
is that you are filled with that same sense...that your cup overflows, too.


"A Sacrament of Thanksgiving" by Howard Thurman

Today I make my Sacrament of Thanksgiving.

I begin with the simple things of my day:
          Fresh air to breathe,
          Cool water to drink,
          The taste of food,
          The protection of houses and clothes,
          The comforts of home.
For these I make an act of Thanksgiving this day!

I bring to mind all the warmth of humankind that I have known:
          My mother’s arms,
          The strength of my father,
          The playmates of my childhood,
          The wonderful stories brought to me from the lives of                  
                      many who talked of days gone by when fairies and
                      giants and kinds of magic held sway,
          The tears I have shed, the tears I have seen,
          The excitement of laughter and the twinkle in the eye
                      with its reminder that life is good.
For all these I make an act of Thanksgiving this day.

I finger one by one the messages of hope that awaited me
          at the crossroads:
The smile of approval from those who held in their hands
          the reins of my security;
The tightening of the grip in a single handshake when I
          feared the step before me in the darkness;
The whisper in my heart when temptation was fiercest
          and the claims of appetite were not to be denied;
The crucial word said, the simple sentence from an open
          page when my decision hung in the balance.
For all these I make an act of Thanksgiving this day.

I pass before me the mainsprings of my heritage:
The fruits of the labors of countless generations who
          lived before me, without whom my own life would
have no meaning;

The seers who saw visions and dreamed dreams;
The prophets who sensed a truth greater than the mind
          could grasp, and whose words could only find fulfillment
in the years which they would never see;
The workers whose sweat has watered trees, the leaves
          of which are for the healing of the nations;

The pilgrims who set their sails for lands beyond all
          horizons, whose courage made paths into
          new worlds and far-off places;
The saviors whose blood was shed with a
          recklessness that only a dream could inspire
          and God could command.
For all these I make an act of Thanksgiving this day.

I linger over the meaning of my own life and the
          commitment to which I give loyalty of my heart and mind:
The little purposes in which I have shared with my loves,
          my desires, my gifs;

The restlessness which bottoms all I do with its stark insistence
that I have never done my best, I have never
          reached for the highest;
The big hope that never quite deserts me, that I and my
          kind will study war no more, that love and tenderness
          and all the inner graces of Almighty affection will
          cover the life of the children of God as waters
          Cover the sea.

All these and more than mind can think and heart can feel,
I make as my sacrament of Thanksgiving to Thee,
Our God, in humbleness of mind and simplicity of heart.