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More articles on Fasting . . .

Have you ever lost your appetite?  Think of the time when it happened.   You got in an argument with someone you love at the dinner table and walk off and cant eat.   Or your mom goes into surgery and you lose your appetite over worry.  Maybe you hear how a certain brand of coffee or chocolate exploits the poor so you refuse to eat that brand again. Or someone says something hurtful to you and you get so angry that cant eat?   Imagine being so upset about sin in your life that you lose your appetite.  Or you will yourself to not eat because of a few extra pounds you have put on.

 

Fasting is when you will your appetite into submission to worship.  Perhaps you look at the mess you have made of your life and you are so filled with shame that your appetite goes.  This was David after his sin with Bathsheba. Fasting is being so hungry for God, so thirsty for his Presence, so desperate to come close to God that you can’t eat.  Moses, expressed this, “Man shall not live by bread alone but by every word that proceeds from the mouth of God.”   Anna, the first century prophetess worshiped God with fasting. Fasting happens when ou paint a picture with your emtpy plate of a life void of God Fasting happens when we pour ourselves so deep into the mission of God that  we use our hunger pains to express our desire for “his kingdom”.  When we fast our growling stomach is a prayer.  When we fast our longing for that favorite desert is a longing for the kingdom. This is exactly what Jesus did at the well “I have meat to eat that you know not of.”  Fasting happens when  you balance out the injustices in our world by resist the impulses of consumerism and giving the money to a charity.   And in all of this you worship God.  You honor him.  You seek nothing in return.  When we eat we seek something in return.  When we fast we seek God.  We give ourselves away.  When we fast we feel the gnawing and sympathize with the famished.   When we fast we crave our morning coffee, open refrigerators unconsciously, smell our favorite baked goods and then we refuse our wants we discipline our body and we deny ourselves take up the cross and follow Christ.

Below are some articles by Richard Foster (author of Celebration of Discipline) that may help you in your journey of fasting.

Download AboutfastingFOSTER  

Download Richard Foster Fasting 20th Century Style

40 Days of Fasting Resource

Each year for the past 6 (this being our 7th) our church community engages in a 40 day community fast.  I am posting some resources and articles to aid the journey.

Download What is Fasting
Download Purpose of the Fast
Download Kinds of Fasts
Download Health Considerations For Fasting

Mathetes "a way of life"

When you have had a long day at work where do you go to to replenish your reserves?  Food?  Beverage?  Book?  Movie?  Do you have a pattern you get into that kind of restores your energy levels? 

Jesus knew how exhausting life can be.  He saw Peter stressing over his taxes.  He happened upon the crew one day mending nets from an exhausting and unproductive night on the Sea. He watched his associates scrambling and fretting as they realized they invited more people than they could feed.  In disbelief and frustration at their predicament they groan, "Where can we get food for 5,000 people."  There was the pressure and scrutiny of the system, "You can't pick grain on the sabbath and eat it.  Shame on you!"  And yet with the same demands and frustrations you and I face in life, he challenged them to embrace life as a mathetes, a disciple or learner.

What I want to point out in this post is something I discovered a couple months back at Graduate Theological Union.  I was studying Sylvia Collinson's Making Disciples (Theological Monograph) and reading Harvey Cox's When Jesus Came to Harvard at the same time.  And I became convinced that Jesus' command "Matheteuo all the nations" was the method of teaching that he was commanding his disciples to use as they built his kingdom.  Matheteuo (verb) was not a curriculum.  When we read metheteuo we often read into that word activities like 'soul-winning' or 'evangelism'.  There are some that take it a step further and have a few classes and kind of 'school' people into the church's theology and rules "do's and dont's".  Usually there is a set curriculum (e.g. 101, 201, Navigators, etc.) we school them in.  Schooling is Western.  Jesus did not have 'schooling' in mind when he said make disciples.   

Its how we learn in the West so we just kind of use the same method of learning (schooling) that we have always used and put a 'discipleship' curriculum with it.  This method of learning uses:  lectures, discussions, QandA, audio/visuals, reading assignments, covenant or commitment paper we sign.  The class, as we do in the West, sits facing forward while someone stands or sits on a stool and lectures the group.  We meet in a church classroom.  And the program is set/fixed.  There are maybe 6 or 7 lessons.  The goal is to attain a certain level of knowledge (cognitive) with the hopes that our life will bear some fruit.  Does anybody see anything wrong with this beside me?  Is this what Jesus did?  Did he 'school' people into a relationship with him?  Did people learn how to live his way of life through lectures, sermons, class discussions?  (someone is going to go off and say that i am advocating for the dissolution of preaching and teaching.  that is not what i am saying.  I am saying that that is not what disciple (verb) means.)

Is the church offering its world a less hectic and stressful life?  And is the church showing its world how that less stressful life can be lived?  Or are we merely making people do more stuff, add more rules, attend more events . . . . .  Is it possible we are adding to their burdens.   Jesus didn't merely offer people some additional knowledge to help cope with their trials and difficulties, stresses and fears!  He offered a whole new way of living.  And that whole new way of living was not acquired by lecture.  It was acquired by a tribal apprenticeship and a familial nurturing, through Kingdom activism and meal-time reflections, by creedless stories and prayerful gatherings.  It wasn't knowledge through classes and sermons.  Yes, they taught all people Jesus' sayings and life-lessons, his story and resurrection, but how they taught it was radically different from anything we do today. 

So how did they pass The Way on to the nations?  Who were disciples (noun)?  What was discipling (verb)?  Before we can explore what it was I want to establish what it wasn't.  It wasn't a student curriculum, church program, evangelists-4 spiritual laws or 3 steps to salvation or sinners prayer.  Disciple was a word soaked in a rich etymology (with both Jewish and Greek hues).  The Galilean tapestry wove at least 7 different patterns into its disciples cloak.

Next week we will explore the first of the seven:

Mathetes

I feel compelled to cry with desert rumblings to my generation.  Its not as though I think or feel like I am the lone seer in the Country of the Blind.  Quite the contrary!  My own eyes have been gouged and plucked.  I too heard the call, followed the Voice, crucified my soul to the Story.  Somewhere along the way, I allowed men to define the Voice's meaning, I sold my soul to an ecclesiology measured and weighted with quantitative reasoning.  You know, "How many people do you run?"  "What was your budget last year?"  "What is the square footage of your building?" It was subtle.  At least no one ever explicitly stated this, but conversations revolved around this.  Results and numbers were the final say at the end of the day.   The church became a business.  My holy vocation bartered for a career.

Dandelion Whiskers . . .

Artists abound in our beloved community.  Thespians and bohemians creating and imagining joyful ascents of Fog City.   There are the Japanese flutes and African drums, flamenco guitars and piano bikes,  beat poetry and cotton candy melodies.   You can see old worn-brushes sticking out of torn denim pockets and tightly stretched canvases tense with waiting,  and hear the sounds of shutters and time-captured stills.  

Artists see the here.  Tricycle boy, peddling his legs into a frenzy, careening down a path of eye-opening splashes, his heart brighter than the Phoenix sun.  They feel the now.  A father's and daughter's butterfly kiss.  A mother's first dandelion bouquet.  The vanishing guilt in the Father and Prodigal's crying embrace .    Artists give us cadence and voice.  They  rub the crusty sand from our eyes and let us see.   They cause our numbness to feel again, and give our soul permission to smile. 
 
Imagine what we could see or hear if the artists were prophetic?  If their vision and art peered into the shadowy tomorrow?  The hope of a restored universe.   What if the Spirit raised up thespian Prophets and bohemian prophetesses.  Raffish seers of a different sort,  stroking tomorrow with brushes of life and sculpting a feel for future hopes.  Daughters born of the Spirit.  Sons dreaming in the Wind. Their words and visions bursting with the Sun’s corona.  
 

Go forth and fail . . .

From where i was seated I couldn't hear the sermon well.  I sat on the platform at Western Seminary's graduation listening to Dr Stiles, the monitors turned 180 degrees away from me.  Bits and pieces floated and settled in my palms where i began to reconstruct what the Spirit reconstructed to me: Jeff, you need to be a better failure in life.  It occurred to me that successes in God's society happen on the otherside of failure.

amazing stars and intentional rainbows

My son, Jed, on the dark drive home from seminary, asked me which class was my favorite, "Of aaalllll the years you have taught at Western."  (I've only taught at Western 3 years, but thats 1/3 of his life . . . )

And I said, “Tonight.” 

What made this night so special?  Seated in a circle, in an almost Greco-Roman outdoor setting, with the faint modern day whirl of cars buzzing up and down Los Gatos Blvd., a teen skateboarding through the Calvary Church courtyard, my son playing and watching God's people out of the corner of his eye, Helicon reading John 6, while Lawrence and Jerome poured Trader Joes grape juice into dixie cups and broke triangular pieces of flat bread, yeah it had to be tonight.

Missional Community Dreaming in SF

Last night I had a conversation.  It was a community conversation.  One where  we dreamed and danced around on pogo sticks.  We imagined what it might look like if the church quit buying into the lie that it is a building or a Sunday event and it started living like it was a people.  We reflected how the early church wasn't about buildings, budgets, and butts.  But was about discipleship, community, and Gospel.  We thought about what might happen in San Francisco if we started living with gospel intentionality.  If our gatherings on Sunday were times to connect with each other, worship God, recenter our hearts around the cross, and be equipped to be disciplers.  And if our Monday through Saturday was all about gospeling our world.  What if I, as lead pastor, embraced the apostolic model of shared leadership?  You know, Jesus sent them out by twos, so what if the pastorship was not a lead pastor but a shared pastorship?  What would it look like if I, as an elder, split my time between training elders and community leaders, and reaching out to my neighborhood? 

It was fun at first, but then we started thinking of all the logistical factors and challenges. The discussion meandered down some streets with potholes and broken asphalt.  We embraced the fact that this wasn't a smooth ride. The discussion was healthy and started us dreaming and thinking.  We didn't resolve anything or form any conclusions.  We just talked about God's kingdom.  Someone suggested we post a blog and keep the discussion going.  And invite others into the discussion.  So here are some questions to interact with:  (1) From God's perspective, what should the church look like? In its relationship to the world around it?  (2) What is the mission of the church?  (3) How can we best prepare/equip our community to live the mission?  (4)  Where should we go from here?  (5) What pieces should be thought through more thoroughly and what aspects need more reflection?

Can't wait to hear from you.

SOMA School one man's experience

KataThis!

At the urging of my cousin-Vinny, I left San Francisco for a week and moved into a missional community school; SOMA.  (Thanks Vince.)    Yeah, that’s right I missed a Sunday of being in community with Lighthouse, missed my daughter’s 5th grade “Outdoor Ed” send off, Scott’s sermon on Ephesians and a date night with Julie, so that I could do life with people I had never met.   I’ve been to these conference things before, where you get a hotel room, rent a car, spend 4 hours or so each day discussing techniques, hearing motivational speeches, learning programs for the next generation MegaChurch, then retiring each evening to the privacy of your room and a sense of completing a corporate church thing. That’s not what this was.   And after this week, it will be a long time before I go back to one of those conference/seminar/selfhelp/how-to-do-church-the-new-and-improved-way.  A very long time.

I'm A Good Person What More Do You Want?!?!

The following constitutes my closing remarks from my sermon last Sunday.  It really should be taken in the context of how an apologist, skeptic, and Christian would interact with this question.  These closing remarks assume a deep conviction that all of us are a complexity of good, bad and ugly and beautiful.  We are broken pieces of the image of God. 

"Brent the Rhodes Scholar and I were sharing back and forth on this subject and he said to me, if one of his colleague informed him, “I’m a good person, what more do you want?” His reply would be deceptively simple. “If you are a good person, you do not need Jesus.” 

He says, “People should not try to convince good people that they need Jesus, because good people simply do not need Jesus.  Jesus is for bad people. 

Exclusivity: Is Jesus the Only Way? Isnt that arrogant?

WWW.IMGOOD.ME    I don’t ever remember missing a church service as a kid.  And there were weeks when we had church every night of the week.  I accepted Jesus in my heart when I was 5, was baptized.  But at the age of 19 and 20 I had a crisis of faith.  See, the relationship a Christian claims is one that comes not by culture but by virtue of a personal choice to follow Jesus Christ. "Christian ideas may be inherited within a culture, but the Christian commitment is a personal affirmation." (Crownover) I made friends with a Buddhist, at work, and he was really nice and I just couldn’t believe God was going to send him to hell.  I got really desperate for some answers, but none were forthcoming.  For 6 months we worked together, Rainbow Grocery Store, and my faith got the snot beat out of it.  I had so much anxiety and conflict I decided to take off and backpack into the Sierras for 3 weeks and fast and pray and read my Bible. 

ImGood.Me

Our sermon development team went to work about three months back asking non-Christian San Franciscans this question, "Assuming there is a God, and you could ask him one question, what would it be?"  Questions poured in.  We decided to take the most difficult questions and get gut real.

As i grated through the questions I realized a couple things.  First, my questions have drifted away from questions that really matter.  I have got all bent out of shape answering the holier-the-thou judgers within, that I forget the weightier task of responding to skeptic sons and wounded daughter without.   This led me to think about how mainline denominations and organized Christian groups walk the Jericho road in heated debates, splitting hairs over trite details, condemning the stride and dress, polity and interpretations of the 'other' groups on the road, meanwhile wounded humanity gasps for help.  Thank God for the good Samaritans.   God, help me, I know I have busied myself with the views and vindictiveness of 'others' when I should be bent over a wounded soul.   

Legends of the Crossroads and Redefining Success

Early this mornin'
When you knocked upon my door
Early this mornin', ooh
When you knocked upon my door
And I said, "Hello Satan,
I believe it's time to go."—Robert Johnson.

Crossroads. Before Rock and Jazz.  Before Rap and Hip Hop.  Before Pop and Metal.  There was Blues.   There is a story—some say legend and some swear its true.  It’s the story of Robert Johnson at the crossroads. He was pretty good guitarist, but not good enough. Son House discounted him.  He couldn’t read music, write lyrics, and just wasn’t skilled enough to be as a professional musician.  He desperately longed for fame and fortune.  He was married to his young sweetheart. And seemed happy enough.  She died in childbirth (and the baby as well).  He hated God for it. And turned to his whiskey, voodoo and song. All he wanted was to be a great. He made a decision. At the stroke of midnight, he walked down to the windswept crossroads at the junction of Highways 61 and 49 in Clarksdale, MS. He called upon Satan. In exchange for Johnson's soul, the devil tuned his guitar, thereby giving him extraordinary abilities. From then on, the young blues-man played his instrument with an unearthly flair, his fingers dancing on blue strings. His voice moaned and wailed, echoing the deepest sorrows of a soulless man.

Waterlogged Shame

I witnessed an unusual and deeply spiritual baptismal on Sunday.  Fernando and Andrea.  Fernando is from Peru and Andrea from Ecuador.  They are young.  Live downtown SF.  Both are artists.  What is it about Lighthouse and all the artists!  Artists just have the most beautiful way about expressing themselves.
 
So both of them have this incredible story, like-edge-of-the-seat kind of stuff.  Both were tired.  The had keyed in "the end" and it was.  But that was before Sunday, that was before they re-enacted Jesus' story.  I always thought baptism should be the most incredible moment in a person's life. A defining moment.  A point of reference you always look back to and say, "It happened there! And that settles it!" 

40

Since i was a 7th grader, Calvary Christian School, Indianappolis IN, i have had a fascination with the number 40.  Not as a age, but as a number that marks maturity, most often supernaturally.  I had my list never of things I wanted to accomplish by 40, but of how i wanted my 40 and beyond to look like.  But that is all too personal and intimate for this post.