Intentions

I planned to blog this summer. I really did. I’ve had a post idea floating in my head for almost two months. Obviously, it hasn’t progressed much beyond that. Summer has a way of fleeing, even when you have the time on your hands to do the things you ought.

Last night my vacation ended. I drove back with a friend from a trip to the beach, where we’d left 7 other friends (who were staying the whole week). Our conversations upset me, to the point where I’m not sure where to begin processing.

I joined a church planting team roughly 9 months ago. We officially launched on Easter Sunday this past spring. I love my new church. I love the people. I love the opportunities I’ve had to lead and serve. I love the smaller community. Like all new churches, we’ve had our fair share of challenges. Primarily, our biggest obstacle has been physical – an actual, consistent meeting space. We are in an urban area, with limited property and limited resources. We’ve been meeting at hotels for the most part but as of next week, we’re homeless again. We’ve got a plan – a providentially opened door for us – which I was excited to share with my car-mate on the ride home last night.

And that’s where things took a dive. I knew that she was part of another PCA church in the area. I knew that there had been some tension in our presbytery when our church plant was in the planning phases. I did not know that those tensions, along with feelings of betrayal, were still present. This church, which goes by CCA, has been through the ringer in recent years… struggling along without a pastor for a while. They’d finally gotten their feet back on the ground but not without asking our session for some help, and according to my source, receiving none. (Not just receiving none; being told there was none to give.)

And then along we came (Emmanuel)… with the resources our mother church told CCA they could not have.

And we invaded their backyard. We plopped down, like parasites, in the heart of the city they were trying to reach. And now, with what we (Emmanuel) see as a gracious provision from the Lord, we’ll be moving literally a few blocks away.

When I first thought about joining the church plant team, I sat down with the pastor to ask about this tension. Why are we planting another church in A, when CCA is there already? He was eager to answer how God had nudged him and his family there. They wanted to plant in an urban environment, with the hopes of using a ministry model like Tim Keller at Redeemer in Manhattan. They were thrilled to talk with our mother church about planting in A. And our mother church was excited to plant there, too. But then the found out about CCA. My pastor didn't know CCA existed. He changed his plans when he found out. He went to the elders and said, I’d rather go to B. B is just as good as A. B is still in the metro area, still urban, still diverse, and in need of a church. But the session voted – with voiced disagreement from CCA – that Emmanuel’s new home would be A. That, in fact, there are 200,000 people in A and there is need for 4, 5 maybe 6 PCA churches there. And that since Emmanuel would have a different feel than CCA, each church would appeal to different types. When the session gave approval for the plant, my pastor felt confident that this was God’s leading.

I listen to his description of what happened. I agreed with him. I agreed that A is a fantastic place for more than one church. That there is no need to have turf wars in ministry; that we’d be reaching out to our local neighbors, our friends, and that each church would be unique and yet united by our shared PCA affiliation. That maybe even we could partner together, since we both have small congregations, and share the burden of caring for our great city. In my naïve imagination, I had visions of joint picnics, ministry projects, and softball teams.

I’m not sure how much of my CCA friend’s assessment is factually correct. I'm not sure how much my information is correct. I’m not sure that it really matters. The fact is, she is still hurt. It does not matter that our intensions were good; that my pastor felt he’d done due diligence, that he even had the support of CCA’s pastor and the session. CCA (or at least one member) still feels betrayed. Perhaps more by the mother church that planted us (while refusing to help them), than they do by Emmanuel, but since we are so connected in their mind, it’s all one in the same.

The saddest moment on the car ride home was when I asked her what we could do to try and reconcile with CCA and she said, “Nothing.”

Now I feel broken. Upset by the hurt we’ve unintentionally caused CCA, confused by the actions of our mother church, and sad at the thought that a church could even have a turf mentality.

What kind of message does any of those actions and responses send to our world?

Trust, Part I

Do you ever have those repeat lessons? Yes, I know this in my head.. yes, yes, You've taught me that before. Hum, maybe I'm still being stubborn.

I imagine this issue comes up often during the transitional phases of our lives. We seek guidance and direction a little more when we've just finished or just started a phase of life. Less than two months ago, I was seeking His provision for a job and He provided. But now what? This is where the thoughts start to race through my head. Do I stay here? Go for the PhD? Just look for a job in my field? Apply for a Fulbright? These are all pretty silly questions in the grand scheme of things. I am not asking where my next meal will come from or how I will pay rent. But I want to be obedient to His will, so I ask. And, the center of all my questions is the same: Will You answer the desires of my heart?

Do you trust Me?

This was a quiet whisper, almost as it hurt Him to have to ask. It reminded me of John 21, when Christ restores Peter, and made me wonder at the interconnectedness (is that a word?) of trust, love and faith.

Do you love Me? Obey Me.
Do you still believe I am who I say I am? Trust Me.

A greedy man stirs up dissension, but he who trust in the Lord will prosper.
He who trusts in himself is a fool, but he who walks in wisdom is kept safe. (Pr. 28:25-26)

Perhaps the difficulties of my past cloud my view, but trust is a much harder and higher call than love. Maybe I can still convince myself to love you, but I'm not sure I can trust that you won't hurt me again. This certainly applies to human interactions and separates the emotion of love from the decision to love. Can we separate trust in the same way? Can I choose to trust you even when I'm not sure I will like the results?

I've been digging to unearth the root of my hesitation to trust our Lord. For countless reasons, He should be my first trust. His history is perfect, even when I did not see it at the time. His presence permanent, His love complete, and His Grace unmistakably claimed me for His purposes. So why do i fight His perfect plan?

It boils down to the root of all sins: Pride, and I will tell you how it gets there.

I can only speak to my experiences growing up in Western society, which I blame for much of the problem, but Pride is the root of the first and last sin, so I suppose this applies overall. We are trained that being dilligent and a having a strong work ethic will produce desired outcomes in achieving our goals. You can do anything, if you set your mind to it. We teach our kids that with effort comes rewards. If you want A, do B and C well, and you will get A. Sure, there may be strokes of luck along the way, but for the most part, it's all on us to earn what we want.

This falsely teaches that we are in control of our lives. And, once we've come to expect this level of control, we do not know how to function without it. Anxiety, worry, fear, depression, feeling like things are spinning out of control, all stemming from our improper understanding of the relationship between effort, control and outcome.

This false sense of control encourages the belief that I know what is best for me. This is Pride, plain and simple.

I do not trust in His plans because it means I have to give up control. I have to admit I don't know what's best and that His way is undoubtedly better. While it is easy to give lip service to the perfect nature of His plans for our lives, letting go of control is a far more challenging obstacle.

Hard Places

Forgiveness is so fricking hard. I really think it's the most difficult act of Christian obedience. This will most likely turn into a series of posts, as it is an issue I'm revisiting right now, and although it is painful, I am grateful for the work of the Holy Spirit in my life.

This started about three weeks ago, when I realized I had to ask So-and-so to forgive me. How can I ask them to forgive me, when I harbor such unforgiveness in my own heart? And then came the disappointment. Haven't I already dealt with this before? Haven't I already put so much time and effort into working this out, into forgiving this one person? Can't I just be done with this?

And of course, as He often does when we are dealing with a specific issue, it was brought up over and over again during the past few weeks.

Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins. (Matthew 6)

This far more demanding than we like to make it. This is not some wishy-washy 'oh, He understands that you're just human and we are imperfect at forgiving.' Nope, it's pretty clear cut here. He demands us to forgive just as He forgave - infinitely and absolutely.

Juliet pointed out that often times, when we feel frustrated because we are revisiting the same issue, it is really a revisiting from a different vantage point. After Sunday's sermon on forgiveness, and talking with Juliet, I've come to understand that this time around, it is my anger caused by my unforgiveness that I am dealing with. And that anger has only hurt me. (I asked Julie if that was selfish and she replied that it is just a rightful understanding of what anger does. Whew. At least I don't have to deal with my selfishness at the same time!)

Anger and unforgiveness keep us from freedom in Christ. Which helps me understand more why I was given this verse almost three years ago:

It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery. (Gal. 5:1)

So, I am learning to shed the yoke of slavery harnessed by my anger, caused by my unforgiveness.

My anger stems from her lack of unrepentance. (And, without too much detail, her insistence that I am the guilty party, though the guilt was proven independent of me, in a court of law.) How do you let go of anger towards someone who is absolutely unrepentant? Any thoughts?

Places and History

Last Tuesday night I was able to have dinner with my best friend from college. Ah, good memories. Memories of His faithfulness and provision and the blessings of friendship. This picture was supposed to capture my love of campus, college life and the history of His work in my life. (It's one of my favorite spots on campus.)
One of the things we talked about was the foundation of our friendship, our shared faith in Christ. This commitment to Christ has held our friendship together, despite some tough times -- and mostly due to my own sinfulness and stupidity. It was during this admittance of my sins, from a period that I can barely call a walk with Christ (more like a forced crawl), that I was able to see I was not frozen by guilt, which is immobilizing and often unhealthy, but that I was actually grieving my sins, and the suffering and pain caused by them.

Here was a liberating thought -- that grieving is a healing process, brought and done by the Holy Spirit. It does not leave you trapped in shame. Instead, it fosters true repentance, placing the emphasis on the work of Grace in my life and not the presence of imperfections and the prideful belief that He cannot use someone as tainted as I. (See 2 Cor 3:6 , 4:7 and 7:10.)

Once again, this brought joy to my heart, and a deeper understanding of His irresistible Grace.

But as always, when we are brought into deeper understanding, we are often prompted to act on that understanding. It is not enough to know, we must become.

Forgive us our debts, as we also have forgiven our debtors.

Repent, for just as your Father in heaven forgives, so you should forgive as well.

So much easier said than done! It is this history of lessons learned that visiting my old campus brings to mind. That I must daily remember His work in my life, and moved by His Grace, must also daily forgive.