A God Not To Be Known, Perhaps, But Experienced

We all have anchors in life--external forces that keep us from drifting, that hold us fast, that give us support, security, and stability. Sometimes our anchors are massive, sometimes they're little things.

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Starting my freshman year of college, a couple times every semester I received a letter in my mailbox. These letters, hand-written by Paul Cook, a neighbor and mentor, were packed full of gold. Mostly, they were full of anecdotes and aphorisms--some ridiculous and hysterical, others profound and deeply moving. I always looked forward to reading these letters because they were so personal. It felt like Paul was literally standing right beside me as I read them. His words were always encouraging and affirming, and they always challenged me to push deeper in my thinking. These letters were an anchor in my life.

Last year, Paul Cook passed away. The letters continue to come though, now written by his wife Debby. Time and time again, she has proved to be another anchor in my life, and I can't praise God enough for the blessing she is to me. I received another of these letters from her yesterday. Just like with the letters from Paul, there were parts where I was comforted, parts where I was challenged to think deeper about God, and parts where I laughed out loud. In this letter, Debby included an excerpt from one of Paul's sermons on believing in God. It's got me thinking about God in a different way: maybe God is not one to be known, perhaps, but experienced.

"Consider an analogy of God that has proven helpful for me: Believing in God is like standing at the seashore and looking toward the horizon. The water between the horizon and us is so immense that it defies even our imaginations. And in addition to what we can see, there is an invisible world beneath the surface brimming with life and full of mysteries. Though we cannot comprehend it all, we can taste the sea and discover its saltiness. We can sense its power as the waves pound the beach. In spite of all that we cannot fathom about the ocean, we know we can trust its tides and waves; we can ride on its surface and enjoy it. Similarly, we will never fully comprehend God. We can stand at the edge of God and discover things about Him. It may be that what we can learn about God is comparable to a small cup of water drawn from an immense sea. Yet, we rejoice in our small revelations and discoveries of God, such as the knowledge that God is love. We can trust Him and enjoy Him, much as we enjoy the sea..." (Paul Cook)

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In one of his songs, rapper Lecrae says, "Don't Die. Multiply." Debby and her letters are evidence of Paul's multiplication. I want to live in a way that multiplies Paul, too.

Jesus and John

Jesus and John
by Lisa Gungor

Johnny was raised with a steeple over his head.
Lived in the suburbs and memorized scripture at night before bed.
He won a prize.
Preachers and teachers would tell him where all sinners go.
Prayed for revival but showed him a fancy lit carnival show.
Why is it a lie?
Why is it a lie?

John saw the lies.
And he saw the steeples.
And saw all the people get it wrong.

Went off to college and came home with knowledge to spare
Of crusades and slave-trades and all of the blood that was spared in God's name.
And all of the lies.
But John couldn't buy it, he just couldn't buy it again.
Church was too small, so he just threw it all up to chaos and chance.
And all of the lies.
All of the lies.

John saw the lies.
And he saw the steeples.
And saw all the people get it wrong.

Jesus sees John.
And Jesus sees steeples.
He sees all his people get it wrong.

Trust Jesus John.
Trust Jesus people.
For Jesus will come and save us all.

To Die Empty

Aluminum foil our plates, fingers our utensils, and fire-roasted meat, potatoes, carrots and onions. Lawn chairs, tree stumps, and logs pulled close to the crackling warmth of a campfire. Shadows cast from the flames dancing against the thick woods coiling all around. Bright stars and moon sneaking through gaps in the autumn leaves. Homework left at school, cellphones without service, and the fast pace of civilized life put on hold. Seventeen grad and undergrad college students, men and nature coming together for fellowship.

Life goals, one by one, given words and thrown into the space between us brothers where flames lick and whip and point upwards:

"to graduate"
"to work with youth"
"to run a marathon"
"to be a good husband"
"to get into a good Grad school"
"to run a godly youth ministry"
"to complete a triathlon"
"to be a good father"
"to travel the world"
"to be a foster parent"
"to hike the Appalachian Trail"
"to provide for my family"
...
"to die empty"

All possessions, all ambitions, all emotions--everything poured out.

Everyone quiet, reflective, staring into a pit of now only ashes. And a silence occupying the space previously filled with words and words and so many words.

"to die empty"

The Cost of Discipleship

I heard a sermon by Dr. Williams, one of the religion professors here at Gardner-Webb. At the end of his sermon, he brought up The Great Commission where Jesus sends out his disciples. Dr. Williams said that if you look back at the original Greek manuscripts, there's only one imperative verb in all of that passage; it isn't "go," and it isn't "teach," and it isn't "baptize"--it's "make disciples."

Jesus traveled and preached to masses, he healed people and ministered to individuals, he gave people purpose and hope, but none of this was his primary ministry. Jesus' primary ministry was to his disciples. Everywhere he went, everything he did, his 12 disciples were always shadowing him, watching him, learning from him, being changed by him. Jesus ministered to thousands, but his primary investment was in 12 men. Through those 12 men, Jesus created a revolution; and now, above all else, his one imperative command to all of us is to make disciples.

A lot of people go their entire lives asking the question, "What is my purpose?" I think Jesus answers that right here. Make disciples. Of course, this will look differently for us all, but for me, it looks like high schoolers. I'm trying to completely surrender my life to this aim of making disciples, and I won't lie: I hate not being able so see results sometimes, and I hate feeling like I'm giving my everything and it's not making a difference. Make disciples. It's hard. It's painful. It's changing my life, and I'm realizing that it's when I'm trying to disciple others that I'm opening myself up to be truly discipled myself.

A couple days ago, I picked up one of the guys I'm trying to disciple, and we went to Yamatos to have dinner together, to talk one-on-one, for me to encourage him, for me to invest in him. We mostly laughed and joked about everything from school to sports to girls. We also talked about searching for God everyday and how to live for Christ. During our time together, I talked about what God's been teaching me and I discussed the verse I've been meditating on, which we actually memorized together right there in the restaurant (John 8: 31-32, "If you follow my teachings, you are really my disciples. Then you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free."). We talked about how obedience precedes knowledge and understanding, even freedom, and that ultimately it's our obedience, what we're actually doing, that counts for something (for a better look at this verse, check out Shannon's super insightful and enriching blog). He sits and listens while I rant. He talks and questions. He makes stupid jokes that bring us back to the mundane and the crass.

Before we met, I spent all day praying and being with God. Dare I say it, I even skipped a class because I felt God nudging me to, reminding me how little time I've spent with Him/Her, reminding me how much S/He's worth it. Reminding me how much the people I'm discipling are worth it. I'm not just investing in myself when I spend intentional, focused, one-on-one time with God; I'm investing in everyone I come in contact with. After we met, I spent the rest of my day alone, neglecting my homework and praying for him, asking God to draw him and transform him and renew him and use him.

The cost of discipling was $20 that night (homeboy ordered freaking steak and shrimp! haha). It cost me several good nights of sleep (since I had to spend the next few nights making up for that skipped class and a day's worth of academic unproductivity (this should be a real word)). It costs me a lot of aching (the more I pray for these guys, the more I have this soft and constant aching, almost a hurting). It costs me my precious free-time and college friend-time and so much. But heck, it's the only thing worth it. And it changes me. I find I'm more encouraged, and I feel more love, and I have more of a hunger and drive to search for God, and I'm a better person. I'm more complete. Somehow, discipling disciples me.

Then the eleven disciples went to Galilee, to the mountain where Jesus had told them to go. When they saw him, they worshiped him; but some doubted. Then Jesus came to them and said, "All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Therefore go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you. And surely I am with you always, to the very end of the age." Matthew 28: 16-20

Bloody Left Toe

Care about something! I am so freaking sick of seeing people not care. Sleep, class, eat, sleep, chill, work, party, sleep, class, eat, chill, work, party, sleep... I hate seeing people just existing. What are you doing with your life? Well, one day I'm going to be a doctor. Oh my goodness. Someone bake some friggin cookies and give that person two of em! I'm talking about the here and now. I look around and I see too many people going through the motions, living in a routine, not really caring about something. I don't even care if all you care about is your bloody left toe. Just care about something! and surround yourself with that thing. Pour time, money, energy, emotions into something. Invest everything you have, everything you are.

Oh, but there's so much risk. Nothing's really worth all of that. Well, except for me. I'm worth all of that stuff.

College is so egocentric. Someone (we shall say this person is male) spends his entire senior year of high school trying to figure out where he wants to go to school, how he can get scholarships, what he can do to begin the rest of his life. He goes to college and has his own little cute dorm room, and his own little cute friend group. He has his own specific major, and he's here to further his education. And then he stresses out about the rest of his life--where will he live, what will he do, what jobs will he get. What does he want in life. But wait! He's a Christian. And look! He's going on a short-term mission trip. And it makes him look good and him feel good about himself. And he goes on for the rest of his life, getting his own education, getting his own job, making his own money, having his own life.

College. It can all be so self-serving.

The ideas of this blog, including the phrase "I don't even care if all you care about is your bloody left toe. Just care about something!" are brought to you by the inspiration of Heather Wright.

His name is "Today"

I am who I am today in large part because of who has invested in me. I'm pretty sure I was unaware of these efforts at the time, but in retrospect, it's obvious who cared enough to invest in my life. I'm pretty sure I know exactly who was praying for me, too. I know for a fact that I wouldn't be who I am and where I am today if it were not for these people in my life. Looking at only one semester of classes left in my college career before I begin teaching, I've been thinking a lot lately about discipleship and mentoring. What's disappointing is that I realize I've missed a lot of opportunities to invest in others, especially since I've been here at college. What also sucks? It's really hard to pull myself out of the rut. The rut that says, "You'll be working with youth the rest of your life. Just focus on you right now. You're still developing, Keith." Okay, sure. This is a very developmental time in my life--lots of ideas and philosophies about life are taking form right now, lots of heavy life choices being made, blah blah blah. I just can't get that stupid voice out of my head: "Keith, this is your developmental stage, your foundational years. Focus on you right now, on your studies and on college stuff. You've only got like a year left of college. You have the whole rest of your life to change the world."

But then there's the quieter voice, the voice I hear less often: "Keith. I understand you need to invest in your studies and in college activities. But can't you see? don't you understand? Children and youth are being molded right now--their bodies growing and their minds shaping now. They will not wait for you. I get that you think you need to focus on you, but these kids can't wait till tomorrow, till you feel ready. They're being overwhelmed with influences, influences slamming them left and right, influences that won't wait for you. If you really care, if you really want to make a difference, drop your excuses and your fears. Be one more positive influence in these kids' lives now. And I'm not talking about the occasional Bible study or Focus trip or basketball game. Youth are more important than that, and what they need is so much more. They need long-term investment. Yeah, it's more demanding. But the world's influences? Relentless. These lives can't afford for you to wait any longer."

"We are guilty of many errors and many faults, but our worst crime is abandoning the children, neglecting the foundation of life. Many of the things we need can wait. The child cannot. Right now is the time his bones are being formed, his blood is being made and his senses are being developed.
To him we cannot answer 'Tomorrow'. His name is 'Today'." (Gabriela Mistral, 1948)

Random Thoughts

thought 4: I've realized something about myself: I'm a pretty ridiculous person. I am entirely way too dependent on grades. I almost died when I thought I was going to make a "B" in a class I've worked my butt off in (an ungrounded fear I soon discovered). I'm also way too dependent on what people think about me. I can't even sleep at night if I think someone has a problem with me; I have to have everyone be okay with me, and in the end, that's just not feasible. And I'm way too dependent on what I can see. If I can't see it, it's really hard for me to trust that God can. Like the future. Those things are difficult for me to trust God with, because I'm constantly combating this "I have to know!" mentality. I guess all of it is ultimately a control thing...

thought 1: I don't know what the big fuss is concerning "Redeeming Love." I swear I've heard over and over about how wonderful that book is, it'll teach you how to really love someone, it's the perfect picture of God's love for us, ... I'm just a little into it, but I keep having to repress the urge to gag. It's obvious the author is working her ass off trying evoke some deep, emotional response from me, and frankly, I refuse to give it to her. At least for now, because the story is oh so predictable and cheesy. I mean, I guess it's beautiful and all, but it's also really sappy (I think the novel would be a great soap opera actually). I simply refuse to be emotional for its own sake, so hopefully the story will pick up and do something else for me. I guess I'm also not a huge fan of the metaphor for sinful, disobedient humanity being an adulterous woman and loving, redeeming God being a man. But that's probably just the feminist in me brought out from working with people like Liz, Carrie, and Collyn in the Writing Center ("Den of Prosperity").

thought 3: I just got back home from good ol' Gardner-Webb. I'm already counting the days till I go back, and I already freaking miss everyone there--some more than others, obviously. Geeze.

thought 2: I'm slightly perturbed that as soon as the homework, reading, studying, and exams end and I actually have time to blog, I really don't have much to say; that the times when I'm stressed-out-of-my-mind-I'm-so-busy, those are the times when I have things to say. That is just silly. Since I have no more thoughts of my own, I'll voice someone else's:

"On that night nothing is ever the same again. Once you've seen him in a stable you can never be sure where he will appear, or to what lengths he will go, or to what ludicrous depths of self-humiliation he will descend in his wild pursuit of man.
If holiness and the awful power and majesty of God were present in this least auspicious of all events, this birth of a peasant's child, then there is no place or time so lowly and earthbound but that holiness can be there too."

-Frederick Buechner