Never Give Up.

Working with teens is one of the coolest, more rewarding, most fun things about my life. Some of you read that two or three times-- blinking, shaking your heads, knowing you misread it-- but it still reads the same. "Don't you mean most frustrating, Miles?" No, I don't, Sure, there are times it can be frustrating, but that's true of everything in life worth doing.

There are these two siblings I've never been able to connect with. Since they were able to walk and talk, they've just never had any interest in me. And that's fine. I don't expect to be friends with the whole world (though that would be awesome). But we're friends with their parents, we go to church with them, we occasionally eat with them. I love them all.

I've given these siblings their space, just been there, offered hugs, interest, and jokes. I haven't pushed-- too often (their mom told me a while back, "Every now and then just hug them, anyway. They need it.")

But now that Sharon and I are officially working with the youth I want it clear they matter as much as anyone else, that they're loved, that they aren't being ignored or shut out. So this weekend at the lock-in I paid them a little more than usual. Nothing looked any different.

Tonight we had a dinner for the youth who'd made a special commitment, to spend time with them and start the process for what they had committed to. When I got ready to sit down, the only open space was also the only table with no adults. The slot was between these two sibs. My first thought was to give them some space; I don't want them to feel pressured. But it was the only open spot, so I sat down. And within a couple of minutes of talking with them and the other teens there (both of whom I'm very close to), these two pretty much took over the conversation. You'd have thought I was a long lost uncle or something.

It wasn't anything deep. It wasn't anything I (or, I presume, they) needed. It was just different. Suddenly, there was relationship. Suddenly, there was trust. Suddenly...

No. There was no suddenly. These were built up over time, with patience, love, and respect. There was no agenda. There were no demands. There were no expectations.

How did I learn to do this? From the way God pursued me, and from a handful of people over the years. Most of us haven't noticed anyone treating us this way, or we thought they were weird because nobody else did this, or... It really doesn't matter why. The reality is that real love-- patient, kind, unenvying, modest, humble, honoring love[1]-- calls out the good in people, and always has a chance of making a difference. Anything less is going to fail, one way or another, sooner or later.

Most of us are all too familiar with the broken, incomplete types of love (or the fakes that masquerade as love), with the resulting failures. Try the real deal. If you don't know how, find someone offering it and experience it for a while. There's some serious healing in there.

Some times it takes a while.

Don't give up.

God doesn't give up on you.

Neither will I.

[1] I Cor 13

A Suit, a Car, and a Spotlight?

I was 21. I was at work, talking with God about something (I don't recall what, but it was hardly Earth-shaking). As conversations often do, it suddenly changed tracks. "One day I will call you into full time ministry."

While I hadn't yet been fully co-opted by the day's Modern Church Culture, I was far enough down that path that what I envisioned looked fairly traditional. Startlingly so, enough to make me nervous. I wasn't any more traditional then than I am today. And only a year earlier, I wouldn't have had any preconceptions; I would have simply asked what that looked like. (I once asked how many hairs I had on my head. He told me.)

At some point in my 30s while happily wearing the skin of an unofficial assistant youth pastor, a young lady named Elizabeth came up to me and said God had showed her something. "Right now you're in the background but one day you'll be in the spotlight, too. I know that's not something you're looking for, but it's true." I have to admit, I took it literally, thinking of being on a stage with hundreds, perhaps thousands of teens hanging on my every word. In the spotlight. It was scary. It was intriguing. It was exciting, It was tempting.

...

For years now in many cultures, most peoples' definition of a "successful" ministry has included certain things:

• a stage
• a huge audience (congregation or otherwise)
• a good salary
• nice clothes
• a nice car (*too* nice can look bad) or two
• a nice home (ditto) or three
• TV cameras and radio microphones
• fame and popularity
• rubbing elbows with celebrities, maybe even world leaders
• book deals
• a spotlight or twelve

There have always been exceptions such as Mother Teresa, Margaret Gaines, Crystal Walker, Rick and Jan Waldrop, Paul and Rhonda Stockard, Gentjan and Pranvera Dervishaj. Mother Teresa could have had all the trappings of a "successful" ministry but she was too busy ministering. You've heard of her. Most of you haven't even heard of the others. And that's fine with them. They aren't in it for the money, for the cars, for the fame. The were and are in it for two reasons-- they love God, and they love people.

...

After a long and bizarre (the norm for me) road, I became an official youth pastor. That youth group, once well over 100, was down to six when I was asked to pastor it. I didn't care. I loved them and poured myself into them. No stage. No spotlight. No salary.

I was given influence with a much larger youth group. Still none of the trappings; it came about through just loving people and showing them God.

As things got bigger and better (in the traditional sense), I had a vision that called me to walk away from the title and formal youth ministry. I just kept loving and offering God. I ended up with "ministry" all over the place, including (gasp!) adults, from 90 miles north to 90 miles south, to 200 miles east... and around the globe via travel, friends and the net.

Occasionally there's a stage, even a spotlight. Occasionally I end up hugging a celebrity or a local or state leader. A couple of times there has been a fairly large audience. But the thing is, I had to rack my brain across the list to come up with those. They're cool because God is doing something in those moments, not because they are big deals.

And I am a full time minister. It's not what I'm paid to do. It's a part of who I am as a child of God. It doesn't look much like Mother Teresa or (insert your favorite full time minister here), because God made me to be me. Unique. Weird, even. And I'm totally down with that. Why would I want to be anyone else? We already have one of each of those.

Ministry looks different for each of us. It might mean simply being a good husband or wife, mom or dad, brother or sister, child, etc. It might mean stopping to hug and feed the people on the side of the road begging for money. It might be as obvious and simple as loving, honoring and supporting everyone at work... or in your congregation or neighborhood. It might mean praying for the sick. It might mean preaching. It might mean teaching. It might mean performing marriages and baptisms (perhaps without a license or official approval in a hostile environment). It might mean waiting with the dying, laughing and crying with the bereaved, burying the dead. It might mean smuggling Bibles. It might mean loving a tormentor. It might mean nice clothes, a car, and a book deal. If it all flows directly out of loving God, and loving others as yourself, doing what we see the Father doing, speaking what we hear Daddy saying, it's ministry. And it's good.

How about you? What's your ministry look like?

---

This was inspired by Sally Hanan, who asked, "When you think about being in full-time ministry, does your vision instantly go to a stage where hundreds sit and listen to you, or does it go to you washing old bed-ridden women and letting people move into your space and eat your food ...? Just a thought, because if love is not the motivation for your ministry ..."

Go Nuts!

One morning recently I decided to take a vacation. I went to the Message and got a suite in I Peter, rooms 1 and 2. I spent some time meditating on what I found there. I brought out a couple of things left by the first tenant, pay it forward style.

"Now that you've cleaned up your lives by following the truth, love one another as if your lives depended on it." (1/22)
"So clean house! Make a clean sweep of malice and pretense, envy and hurtful talk. You've had a taste of God. Now, like infants at the breast, drink deep of God's pure kindness. Then you'll grow up mature and whole in God." (2/1-3)

How many of us love one another as if our lives depended on it? How many of us even come close? How many try? That's a good start, trying.[0] Even if you fall short, you did better than before. Too often we look at something like this, think "I can't be that good", and give up. That can be intimidation, insecurity, fear of failure, a sense of hopelessness, or just an excuse. But none of those excuse us from going for it.

"But I can't! I mean, I tried it a couple of times, and I made it like an hour..." That's two hours more than before. One of my favorite lines in Batman Begins comes from Bruce's Dad (later repeated by Alfred).

"And why do we fall, Bruce? So we can learn to pick ourselves up."

While I disagree with this exact statement as a theological principle (I don't think God makes us fall so we can learn not to), it otherwise holds a great deal of wisdom. We can learn from anything. When you fall (fail), get back up and go some more. Learn what made you fall, and avoid that, or learn ways to cope with it.[1]

Love those aground you as if your life depended on it. (I'll let you in on a secret. Loving people is about the most fun thing you can do. But hold on-- some of them will love you back so much it will blow you away.)

"...Make a clean sweep of malice and pretense, envy and hurtful talk." These four things drive a lot of the drama in our lives. Drama is a poor substitute for fun and excitement, but a lot of us settle for drama. Malice is first cousin to hate, the very opposite of love. Love is real, it doesn't need to pretend, and doesn't hide behind fakery. Envy? Heck no! I'm excited when good things happen to the people I love. And love never wants to hurt someone, directly or indirectly.

This is not a definitive list; it was almost certainly addressing specific issues at a specific place and time. But these things are common to humans, and commonly get in the way of living in love.

So do it. Go nuts in your love for others. God does it for us, all day, every day.

[0] As you may have noticed, Yoda wasn't always right.
[1] Need help with that? A side excursion to James 1/5 has the answer:
"If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you." (NIV)
"If you don't know what you're doing, pray to the Father. He loves to help. You'll get his help, and won't be condescended to when you ask for it."

(All Scriptures from the Message unless otherwise noted...)

People Are People

People are people
So why should it be
You and I should get
Along so awfully
People are people
So why should it be
You and I should get
Along so awfully

So we're different colours
And we're different creeds
And different people
have different needs
It's obvious you hate me
Though I've done nothing wrong
I've never ever met you
so what could I have done

I can't understand
What makes a man
Hate another man
Help me understand

"People are people..."
I got that back in my hippie days.
I got that as a baby Christian, devoid of religion and politics.
I got that when I got sucked into liberal theology.
I got that when I got sucked into right wing, fundamentalist Christianity.
I get it now as someone who just basks in God's grace and thinks both sides have their good and bad points.

Not much boggles my mind, but I have a hard time seeing how anyone would not see this. (My track record isn't perfect, either, but hate isn't an option, so even when it sneaks in, it doesn't stay past having a little light on it.)

In Mt 25/31-46, we find Jesus talking about visiting people in prison, feeding the hungry, and generally helping the hurting as a pretty big deal. (Note: I don't see this as a passage about "What you must do to get to heaven (works), but about our actions showing who we really are. This implies that if we truly love Jesus, these things come naturally.)

In Lk 10/29-37 he applies this to someone his listeners saw as extremely different (a Samaritan).

In dealing with tax collectors, whores, adulteresses, drunks, lepers, Romans, and pretty much every sort of "different" there was in his day, he took a stand for this. "People are people. I created them. I love them. I'm going to die and come back for them as well as you."

Today he'd do the same for all of them again, as well as the homeless, black people, gays and lesbians, illegal immigrants, Muslims, and everyone else. Would he point out anything wrong in their lives and offer to heal them? Sure... just as he does with you and me.

People are people...
Help me understand

Now you're punching
And you're kicking
And you're shouting at me
I'm relying on your common decency
So far it hasn't surfaced
But I'm sure it exists
It just takes a while to travel
From your head to your fists

I can't understand
What makes a man
Hate another man

Help me understand

Depeche Mode lyrics (C) 1984 Sire Records Company

Sweet Surrender

I've always loved this song by Sarah McLachlan. I never knew what it was about, but it was so good and spoke to me so deeply I never worried about it. If you haven't heard it, you should listen:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h2JWJYLNUq4&ob=av2e

(Whatever version I'm currently hearing is my favorite, so I just chose the album version.)

Recently I found a live performance video where she explained the song's origin before she sang it. Here's a transcription from the net:

"The initial inspiration came actually after seeing Leaving Las Vegas, which I found to be this beautiful and tragic love story of these two people who were rather pathetic, both in their own rights, and yet completely accepted each other for who they were; all the beautiful things, and all the ugly things. That's a lot to do with what this is about, accepting ugly things, and being able to appreciate the fact that someone can love you for all those nasty things, especially when you think you are completely unlovable. There's some great comfort in that."

Wow. I've never seen the movie, but this helps explain why the song grabs me like it does. On top of Ms. McLachlan's brilliant songwriting and vocal skills (and great band), this comes from a place near and dear to my heart.

It doesn't mean much...
It doesn't mean anything at all...
The life I've left behind me
Is a cold room...

I've felt like this several times in my life, but the ones that stand out all involve total, relentless, utterly forgiving love that surrendered much to me and left me feeling that this was, indeed, all I had to give. Some of these were God moments, others involve my wife, or falling in love with people others saw as flawed, giving in to that love, adopting them as it were.

I've crossed the last line
From where I can't return,
Where every step I took in faith
Betrayed me
And led me from my home.

[Chorus]
Sweet surrender...
Is all that I have to give?

I don't know what the author means by "Where every step I took in faith betrayed me and led me from my home", but that can be read in multiple ways. I take it as betraying my quest for security and safety. Love always involves risk, and the reward is always worth it.

You take me in,
No questions asked;
You strip away the ugliness
That surrounds me.

If that isn't the definition of love, I don't know what is. Absolute love, no reservations, it goes beyond mere (mere!) forgiveness into overwhelming grace. God strips away all the crap, to reveal the core, the beauty, of who we are. True love does that. Other people have done it for me, and by His grace, I do it for others. But it only works if we recognize that love. Otherwise it feels like we're being assaulted when someone tries to strip away the ugliness.

Are you an angel?
Am I already that gone?
I only hope
That I won't disappoint you...

When I'm down here
On my knees...

How well I know that feeling that all I can do is disappoint. But that's the sign of someone who doesn't know what it is to be loved!

Surrender is always a scary thing. Too often, we only do it when we feel trapped, like a soldier with a gun in his or her face. But it runs out there are things we should surrender to long before we get to that point. Love is at the top of the list, especially unconditional, unstoppable, unending love.

Sweet surrender, indeed.

(Lyrics courtesy of lyrics007.com)