My Hobby

I have come to realize that collecting and filtering vegetable oil has become a hobby. I have been doing this since 2008 when we began traveling with Mustard Seed Ministries and I just couldn't stop. I have been working on the filtering system that I have set up on our side yard since last summer, and it works really well thus far. I have 5 different locations that I pick up used vegetable oil from, one on a weekly basis, the others call me when they need the space. I walked out of a convenient store last week with around 30 gallons, which with the cost of diesel at $4/gallon, that will save me about $120. I have calculated the amount we plan to use this summer with trips to California, Eastern Oregon and Seattle and figure that whatever surplus veggie oil we have in September I can sell for around $2/gallon. That will free up a lot of extra cash to develop projects and purchase products that will help those in our community. But beyond the financial aspect of filtering my own fuel is the fact that my carbon imprint has been significantly reduced. Check out the video:

οἰκονομία

Right now I'm reading a really good book called Free People: A Christian Response to Global Economics by Tricia Gates Brown. I came across an interesting Greek word: οἰκονομία or oikonomia. The word is used throughout the New Testament for "economy," and is translated in Greek as "house-keeping" or "stewardship of household affairs." Brown reveals the depth of Jesus' call to "come and follow" when held against the socioeconomic backdrop of peasants living in Palestine in the First Century. The followers of Jesus, most of them trapped in poverty, relied upon family connections, and extended family connections in order to survive from day to day (due mostly to extreme taxes from both Rome and the Herodian ruling family). So when Jesus called folks to follow him, it meant breaking ties with both your relatives and the economic ties of that family life. You were now part of the "family of God," relying on your brothers and sisters for survival. This is why Jesus, on several occasions, uses pretty harsh language about family when referring to the commitment of following him (Luke 8, Matthew 10).

Now this concept of economics being "in-house," makes the early church of Acts (specifically discussed in Acts 2:44-46; Acts 4:32-35) sound much less radical. Having family, specifically family that contributes economically, was vital to survival in First Century Palestine, it was simply a way of life. If Jesus called his disciples to "come and follow him," then they were asked to cut economic ties, and most of the time relational ties as well, with their immediate family and enter into the family of God. This new family was now their economic family. Looking out for their family's economic needs was part of life, for peasants and fisherman alike, it was essential to life. How many of us view our sisters and brothers as actual sisters and brothers. With our time, or relationship and essential to all, our economics? "There were no needy ones among them" takes on a new meaning when we look at Jesus followers as brothers and sisters, not just neighbors.

Cause or Kingdom?

I have been reading quite a bit about and from Clarence Jordan, the founder of Koinonia Farm in rural Georgia. He wrote the Cotton Patch version of the New Testament. He was trained as a Southern Baptist preacher, and when he would guest preach he would only have a few notes on a small piece of paper and the original Greek New Testament that he would translate as he preached. Jordon was a dynamic individual. He was on the forefront of the battle against segregation and developed a unique model for communal living. However, he didn't start Koinonia in the early 1940s to create a prophetic call against the evils of segregation. Nor did he begin with the idealistic notion of starting a monastic commune in rural Georgia. He didn't reject the nationalism of World War II and register as a Conscientious Objector, which, in patriotic Dixie was almost unheard of, because he wanted to make a statement against war. He did all of this because he felt that the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5, 6 and 7) were "marching orders" for God's people. The words of Jesus, specifically in the Sermon on the Mount, were the framework for God's Kingdom. As Jordan said, he wanted Koinonia to be "a demonstration plot for the Kingdom of God." He wasn't a civil rights leader, a monastic leader, or anti-war protest leader. Jordan simply believed that these concepts were clearly Jesus' instructions for us. As Joe Maendel, a friend of Jordan and a devout Hutterite, recalled:

I had been trained to think that Jesus' words were in the Bible from one end to the other, that the whole book from the first page to the last contained God's words on law and order. Clarence just put his arm around me and said, 'Joe, you don't know how to read the Bible.' And then he took me home and showed me.

He showed me where some of the Bible is just history, where some of it is just telling how so-and-so applied what Jesus said, and how some of it just sets the stage for what Jesus did or said. he told me there is only one place where Jesus starts giving orders and that was in Matthew five, six and seven. He showed me how Jesus didn't talk about community or how to be a Christian -- he talked about love, and mercy, and humbleness -- and Clarence said if you have these, you have community automatically. Clarence said you can argue about the rest of the Bible if you want to, but there is no argument about Matthew five, six, and seven.

Clarence Jordan had only one cause, his singular desire was to enter deeper into God's Kingdom. We have visited several churches over the past few years, and we have attended several conferences. In many instances, opportunities are presented for people to get involved with different "causes." The opportunity to support those digging wells in impoverished nations, or the chance to work with those involved in distributing the Gospel to communist nations. While I whole-heatedly support the efforts of these organizations and individuals who are tangibly loving their neighbors, I also know first hand that when we become about a cause we can quickly get burnt out. One week our hearts are impacted by a video we watched and so we give a little to help build a well in India. The next week we hear about a friend who is helping an organization to end human trafficking. Drawn into the heart-wrenching stories, we try to get more involved. We wonder how we can become involved in so many different "causes," and with the typical American's busy life, the only solution is to give financially. That subdues our conscience -- for a while. The well has been dug, people in the village now have water . . . . what's next? Homelessness? Hunger? Orphans?

Once again, many founders, workers and donors to these causes are centered in the middle of God's Kingdom, but many times it feels like some Christian circles can become a trendy social justice À la carte. Our faith becomes schizophrenic, scattering our time, energy and finances over logo ladened t-shirts, bumper stickers and self-righteous pats on the back.

Jordan advocated for Jesus followers to give. He quoted Augustine in his letter to supporters in 1968:

"'He who possesses a surplus possesses the goods of others.' That's a polite way of saying that anybody who has too much is a thief. If you are a 'thief,' perhaps you should set a reasonable living standard for your family and restore the 'stolen goods' to humanity."

But the giving wasn't sparked by a cause, it was sparked by the Kingdom. Jordan didn't try to convince others to live communally, fight racism, or become pacifists, in other words, he wasn't looking for a cause to fight. Instead, he was trying to convince folks that we must enter into God's Kingdom. Furthermore, Jordan believed that the Sermon on the Mount was the summary of Jesus' teaching about the Kingdom. By putting the ideals laid out in the Sermon on the Mount into action in our daily lives, justice, which is God's "cause," will naturally (and supernaturally), become our "cause."

Point of Sale Salvation

I can't remember exactly when I prayed "the" prayer. Maybe I was three or four, possibly five, my mom probably knows. It doesn't seem that significant now. I remember telling people that my true conversion occurred when I was 19. After the spiritual high wore off, it didn't feel much different and I went on making the same mistakes, questioned what it all meant and struggled with knowing what it meant to "believe" in Jesus. It was / is more of a process than an instantaneous conversion. Today I can say that I am assured of my salvation; I know who I am in Christ. I have heard somewhere that salvation happens instantly, but sanctification is a process. I don't know. Paul said that we must "work out our salvation," so he would probably disagree with the whole "instantaneous" thing.

I have never pushed the whole prayer thing with my own kids. I guess I'm not really willing to pressure or even gently and lovingly persuade my kids into doing something I'm not even sure about. This isn't to say that I don't think proclaiming that you know and love Jesus isn't an important and life altering decision in someone's life, or that parents that have or plan to talk to their kids about "accepting Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior," are doing something inappropriate. It is just something that I am personally choosing not to pursue with my kids. Something I want them to become curious about and really want to do it, not something I planted or indoctrinated them with. I recall telling campus missionaries that tried to "save" me in college that Christianity was my parent's religion. Maybe that's because I prayed "the" prayer before I knew that I could make it mine, before I knew what it even meant to follow Jesus (which I still don't fully understand).

I think the bigger question here is what does it even mean to be "saved." Theologically, the "work" of salvation has already happened on the cross, but what does it take to be "saved." Should we simply believe? Must we then proclaim what we believe? Is that it? Most mainstream Evangelicals treat salvation like a point of sale transaction. Once you swipe your eternity debit card through the machine and punch in your Jesus PIN number, you are good to go. But I have problems with this definition of salvation. It is obvious to me that it isn't some instantaneous occurrence where a little bell rings in Heaven and half-naked baby angels begin to celebrate. I also believe that shedding this type of view is essential to our understanding of what it means to enter into the Kingdom of God and both know and follow Jesus. The "cost of discipleship" discussed in Luke 14 should tell us that it is more than simply praying.

One of my favorite translations is the New Living Translation. Reading through the New Testament I have noticed that nearly every time the translation uses the word "believers" it has an asterisk. In the footnote it reads "Greek: disciples." I wonder why the translators chose to use "believers" instead? "Disciple" is so much richer in context. To be a believer (someone who knows) has a much different meaning than a disciple (someone who imitates).

In John 8, Jesus is speaking to a crowd of people. Early on, He is speaking directly to the "unbelievers," but then he turns his focus to the "believers":

"Jesus said to the people who believed in him, “You are truly my disciples if you remain faithful to my teachings. And you will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”

It sounds like you can be a "believer" and not be free. Only by following his teachings can you become a disciple and learn the truth, and only then will you be set free.

In Matthew 7, Jesus says that simply calling out to him (praying?) will not automatically mean you will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. You must actually do something (be a disciple):

“Not everyone who calls out to me, ‘Lord! Lord!’ will enter the Kingdom of Heaven. Only those who actually do the will of my Father in heaven will enter." (Matthew 7:21)

The question that follows is "what exactly are the 'teachings' of Jesus?"

“Teacher, which is the most important commandment in the law of Moses?” Jesus replied, “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Matthew 22:36-39)

And in John, Jesus comes full circle: we must (1) remain faithful to His teachings, (2) His teachings are to love and (3) if we love we prove we are a true disciple:

"Your love for one another will prove to the world that you are my disciples.” (John 13:35)

I write all of this not because I have answers, but because I have questions. How can I lead my kids into a deeper and more authentic relationship with Jesus? How can I allow freedom for my children to make their own decisions and be true disciples of Jesus? I think part of the reason I don't want to lead my children through a simple pray and profession of faith is that following Jesus is so much deeper than that. I want my children to be disciples of Jesus, not just believers in Him.

Our Abba Father

Originally posted on our MSM blog on November 24th, 2008:

I have been overwhelmed on a couple of occasions here in Charlotte. Once was when Avery and I sat in on a Bible study at Hoskins Park. Hoskins is a transitional housing ministry that gets men off the streets and helps them plug back into society. I sat near the back with a few guys I had met earlier that night listening to the speaker as he talked about the attributes of God – How do we see Him? Who is He to us? The room was filled with men who were broken in one form or another, myself included. I slowly brought my eyes across the small room with probably more than 40 men stuffed in it. I saw some men eagerly taking notes, I saw others focused intently on the speaker, I saw one man sleeping, and being nudged by fellow brothers with stern looks on their faces. I saw another young man, actually the first I had met that night, get up slowly from his seat and stagger towards the door, errantly grasping for the door knob until finally he clumsily made his way outside, followed quickly by a couple of staff. Turns out that sometime between the time I met him and Bible study he had downed a 5th of vodka and had to be taken to the hospital. We were all broken, none more than any other. I got a sense that the men were “for” each other, and believed in the staff who lived right there with them.

As I held Avery in my lap and listened, a feeling of joy rushed over me, Jesus was with us, and only His healing can truly “heal” us. It’s amazing when a group of broken people gather together. More importantly, broken people who are ready for the Lord to work. I was inspired by these men. I got a sense of community from Hoskins Park. I also got the sense that the Lord wanted me to tell them all that He was proud of them, that even though they have all been pulled through the muck and mire, that it doesn’t discount their story, it doesn’t make their impact on others invalid. That actually the opposite was true, their stories, thier testimonies, even though incomplete, were given to them by God, by our Abba Father, and He wants us to shout them to anyone who wants to listen.

I love it when Avery tells me a story, about what he learned in Sunday school that day, or what he heard downtown from somebody, I want to hear him, I want to listen. That is what God, our Abba Father wants from us. He wants to hear our story, our testimony of what He has done in our lives. I was overwhelmed, like every single man’s story in that room the other night was downloaded into my mind, like I knew them well, their struggles, their victories, and I hadn’t heard one of them. The Lord was confirming in my own soul that when His people come together, and earnestly seek Him with transparency, and honesty, realizing our own brokenness, great things can happen. God honored that. Afterwards, men I had never met or talked to, men from completely different social, and economic backgrounds came up to Avery and I and gave us hugs, thanking us for being there. Overwhelming.