I’m drawn to folks with a strong sense of purpose. Many of the folks I admire are dedicated to their craft, their work, their art. I have been a dabbler all my life, and I’ve got a lot of hobbies but don’t know that I am totally dedicated to any one thing..except Jesus. I can imagine not playing the guitar anymore, though with a great deal of loss, or one of the other instruments I dabble with, but I don’t see life without seeking the Lord.
Luckily, I don’t have to do anything like that. But it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle, don’t worry about being enough, doing enough, being the person I think God wants me to be. I’m alcoholic, and at this writing I’ve been sober for a little more than 33 years. What I’ve learned through the program of Alcoholics Anonymous is a straightforward way of seeking God — no pretense, no BS, but a sheer look up from the floor and crying for help. I’ve been a pastor for nearly 18 years, and a churchman for most of my life, and I’ve seen more honest cries for help more regularly in recovery rooms than anywhere else.
There’s a gift in losing all you have, and finding out what you held on to was worthless. Living a life in truth — “practicing these principles in all our affairs” — leads to the abundant life Jesus talks about in John’s Gospel, or so it seems to me.
Here’s a couple of verses I’ve been thinking about in the last few weeks, and I took the blog title from the second one. Both of these quotes are from Eugene Peterson’s The Message:
I have been crucified with Christ. My ego is no longer central. It is no longer important that I appear righteous before you and have your good opinion, and I am no longer driven to impress God. Christ lives in me. The life you see me living is not “mine”, but it is lived by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. I am not going to go back on that. Galatians 2:20
This notion of dying to self, and putting it in these terms that “my ego is no longer central” is so eye-opening, isn’t it? I am not going to be so preoccupied with what you are thinking of me, or if you are thinking of me, and I’m not going to keep trying to prove myself to God. I don’t have to — God loves me, and I don’t have to keep trying to prove that to myself or others.
Here’s the second quote, this one from Matthew 11:
Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me — watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly. Matthew 11: 26-30.
I’ve got a lot to learn about writing a blog, and I’ll include some sermons in this as well and perhaps a podcast, but it’s good for all of us to remember that God loves us, and we don’t have to prove it to ourselves, to others, or to God.
We are invited to live into it. Maybe you’d like to walk with me on this journey.
I play banjo in a prison band. I don’t know if I’ll ever apply for a job again, but if I do, that happy fact will lead my resume.
I’m part of a team that brings the Kairos ministry training , that brings the hope of Jesus, the light of Christ into the dark world of the Wallace Pack Unit in Navasota, Texas.
In a recent training, the “brother-in-white” who plays bass said he had worked with a banjo player who opened the gospel hymn “I Saw the Light” with “Foggy Mountain Breakdown”, a signature banjo piece that is fast and complicated. I’ve never learned to play it well, just taking a stab at it, missing many of the notes that make it so driving and intricate.
By playing with others I’ve realized my limitations on the instrument, and I’ve decided to start over with the basics. Today I’ve practiced the “forward roll”, the steady repetition of eight sequenced notes on three strings: thumb, index finger, middle finger; thumb, index, middle; thumb, middle. Over and over with the right hand, and moving different formations along the neck with my left. Using a metronome, 60 beats per minute, getting the rhythm steady. Becoming grounded in the pattern, anchored in the music so that you can speed up or slow down, and being ready for the next challenge.
I had neglected the basics.
So why am I writing this? Because my habits were not formed well, and I’m correcting it now, in music and in life.
Some of the best advice I’ve ever received was from my first District Superintendent, when I lamented over the length of time it took to be ordained in the Methodist Church.
“Don’t rush the spiritual formation process,” he said. “Otherwise you won’t be spiritually formed.”
We need to be grounded in the fundamentals. And as I was practicing the forward roll with the metronome I thought about getting grounded in the faith. Becoming a disciple is getting the basics down solid, and if we don’t do that we can die out, like the seed planted on rocky soil.
Practicing spiritual disciplines, like I have learned since being involved with the Inspire Way of Life, is the grounding that I need. When I first came to Jesus, I learned a few things, and thought I knew it all. I did not have a “band” around me, or anyoneS that I allowed to teach me. I was like a train wreck, harming myself and others as I married poorly and divorced quickly, all thinking i was acting in the will of God.
What did I not do? Pray for God’s will, and be willing to listen. Study Scripture, and be in a relationship with others that I trusted. I did not fast to seek God’s will for myself or others.
Fasting in particular makes me aware of my impulsive desires, and eventually leads me closer to the Lord.
Prayer, fasting, Scripture, fellowship, serving others — these are basic practices. Studying and starting to memorize the Sermon on the Mount has been transforming. Such things don’t lead to salvation, but they give a greater awareness of who Jesus is and what He has done. They can help lay a foundation, a practice, and I will do well to go back to the basics of faith regularly, to strengthen the foundations like practicing a forward roll.
Members and friends of our church met at the Cracker Barrel this morning for what is becoming for many of us our favorite Christmas tradition: Bless A Server. Karen, one of our members, saw this on Facebook several years ago and thought it was something we could do, too.
She contacted the manager of the local restaurant and told him what we wanted to do. Could he choose someone among his staff who could really benefit from a Christmas blessing? We came for breakfast together, and gave what we could over and above as a blessing, often several hundred dollars. Each time the right person was chosen. One young lady had that morning told her children there would be no Christmas for them; she had enough money for her car payment and their food. When she received her envelope she cried, and told us what it meant for her and her family. “This is Christmas!” she said. We told her who we are, and we reminded her Who Jesus is, and there were hugs and tears.
Each year is different. This year one of the servers went to the new manager and suggested he choose one of her co-workers for the blessing “if that church comes back this year.”
Sally (not her real name) has several children, works hard and is struggling. It was arranged for her to be the server and recipient of the blessing. but she wasn’t there today, and the server who recommended her waited on us, and promised to get the money to Sally. This year 24 people showed up for breakfast, and more donated for a total of $2,001. (One of our little boys gave $1)
Maybe it’s even better that we don’t know the server. We don’t do this for recognition or for “stars in our crown”, but we give because much has been given to us. Jesus gave His life for us, for me and for you too. We want the love He gave us, He gives us, to be shared and multiplied in our homes, in our neighborhoods, in our world.
We have our issues, our struggles, too. Many of us have health issues, family problems, financial concerns. We give because we’ve been broken too, we give because someone helped us and showed love to us. We give because God loved us first.
There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love. We love because he first loved us. (1 John 4: 18-19 New International Version)
At the beginning of every meeting of Alcoholics Anonymous I’ve attended someone is asked to read the 12 Steps. We move from the first step — admitting we are powerless and our lives have become unmanageable — through a process of realization and transformation, if carefully followed.
The 12th step reads: “Having had a spiritual awakening as a result of these steps, we tried to carry the message to alcoholics, and to practice these principles in all our affairs.”
So we move from a state of not being able to manage our lives to a focus on helping others. This is an ongoing process, and in the paragraph following the steps we read that no one claims perfect adherence to these principles. “The point is, that we are willing to grow along spiritual lines. The principles we have set down are guides to progress. We claim spiritual progress, rather than spiritual perfection.”
Progress, not perfection.
Behind this idea is one of self-forgiveness. If someone who had been a lifetime drinker or abuser of drugs “falls off the wagon” after the first month or so of sobriety, we don’t need to condemn; that’s happening already. What we can do is celebrate the steps so far, and encourage a new beginning. “How long has it been since you were sober that long? You can do it!”
1 John 3: 20 -If our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knows everything.
The same kindness can be shown in our journey with God. Progress, not perfection. Grace shows us that progress comes from the realization of the depth of our sin, the unbridled wildness of God’s love, and the unmerited gift of grace. Jesus did it all.
You’re not where you want to be? Or where you think you should be? Or where others expect you to be?
So what?
It’s not about you; it’s not about me; it’s about Jesus.
Remember that. And start over if you need to. Progress, not perfection.
Kairos is a prison ministry designed to bring men and women to an encounter with Jesus Christ. After many setbacks our team went into the Wallace Pack Unit in Navasota, Texas at the end of April.
We meet in the big gym starting Wednesday afternoon and ending Saturday, with 42 “brothers-in-white”, many of whom have waited for years to come to Kairos. Some come because of the food — which is excellent, especially considering their daily fare.
Some attend because they have seen a difference in others who have gone before, and others because it is something different.
There are many stories to tell, and I know only a few. I’ll share two.
After the first day, one man said he wanted to talk to one of the clergy — the Spirit seemed to be stirring him up. He said this at the end of the day, so we could not meet again until the next morning.
We pulled him out of the lineup waiting to get in, and I sat down with him to hear his story.
His father was an evangelist, and they traveled together when he was young. He was licensed to preach at 16, but never entered the pulpit because “all the hypocrisy”. I didn’t pursue what happened to change him, and let him go on.
He tried to find God in other ways, other faiths, eventually exploring witchcraft and other “dark arts”, which contributed to me meeting him in prison.
He feared he had gone too far, that he was out of the reach of God. He cried as he told me.
Together we spoke of the promises of God, of the entire Bible being the story of redemption, of people turning away from God’s love and the Lord being ready to receive back those who repent and turn to him, even running down the road to meet us as the father in the Prodigal Son story. We spoke of Psalm 139, where there is no place we can go beyond the reach of God.
And of course he thought he had committed the unforgivable sin. (Don’t we all?) I told him I could be wrong, but I think the only unforgivable sin against the Holy Spirit is believing we have gone out of the reach of God and therefore do not ask for forgiveness. Being tortured by the worry is a sign of God’s call, or so I think.
We prayed and he offered his life once more to Jesus, and we both walked out of that room changed.
The second story comes from the closing ceremony, where graduates attend as well. A man came up to me, and asked if I remembered him.
I did. He has a triangle tattooed on either side of his left eye and the logo of a football team tattooed on the back of his head. Yes, I remembered.
“I’ll admit, I came to Kairos for the food,” he said. “But after a couple of months, it began to sink in, and I’ve changed. I’m following Jesus now!” And he beamed as he hugged me.
I will sing of the steadfast love of the LORD, forever; with my mouth I will make known your faithfulness to all generations. For I said, “Steadfast love will be built up forever; in the heavens you will establish your faithfulness. “ Psalm 89: 1-2
Perhaps what I’ve learned over these last 37 years of sobriety is something about forgiveness. At 70 years old I’ve passed the halfway mark now. I awakened to faith in Christ the last time in 1990, two years into the sober life. It was about four years before I worked the 4th step, “made a searching and fearless moral inventory…”
Jesse sponsored me, a grizzled old man with a fast handshake and a big heart. I came in with a “high bottom”, meaning I had not lost all yet. For the previous year I had been taking courses to become a Certified Alcoholism and Drug Dependency Counselor, and at one point I took one of the self-tests for alcoholism. There I was, still in Stage 1 but gaining momentum. I had a great fear of alcoholism because of my home life growing up, and I didn’t want to put my family through that one day.
I became close to Jesse and his family, and he brought me into his church. Many years later I would come back there as one of the pastors.
I don’t hold up my own program as a model for others, but I have stayed away from alcohol and drugs for a good bit of time now. I learned about forgiveness in a big way when I finally wrote the 4th step and went to Jesse for the 5th: Admitted to God, to ourselves and to another human being the exact nature of our wrongs.
I used the classic Seven Deadly Sins as a model for my writing, and I went to Jesse’s one afternoon. He prayed; I read everything aloud. He prayed and blessed me. We went out to his backyard barbeque pit on that afternoon in Houston, and he took out his Zippo lighter and set the pages on fire. I watched that confession flame and lift into the air and I felt a new freedom.
This blog started as an idea for the intersection of discipleship and recovery, and more and more I believe in forgiveness as the link to both. There’s five points to forgiveness that I teach now in a prison ministry and at our church. I’m grateful to Dr. Timothy Keller and his book Forgive for some of this.
Look to Jesus, not peers. Your peers will disappoint you.
Forgiveness means absorbing the loss. We have to absorb the loss if someone acts against us. If we say something like, “I’ll forgive you, but I’ll never forget this!” — we are not forgiving, we’re posturing. If we forgive a debt, we absorb the loss ourselves.
Jesus absorbed the loss Himself when He bore our sin upon the Cross. He paid the price, He absorbed the loss, He forgives completely.
We can’t do this. There’s no way.
Jesus can, and does, and we can through Him.
How do we begin? We make a start.
Proverbs 3: 5-6 — Trust in the Lord with all your heart, lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and the Lord will direct your path. (Make a step! God will show you the next one. You need to be moving.)
Romans 12: 1-2: I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship. Do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that by testing you may discern what is the will of God, what is good and acceptable and perfect.
Our minds need to be renewed, we need to find a new way of thinking and seeing things, what Jesus called being “born again.” But once we are born again, we have to continue to grow up.
The Twelve Steps of Recovery are an outline of salvation leading to discipleship, and I believe useful for everyone.I’ve used them and recommended them and studied them for years, and sought help and community in churches and in the rooms of Alcoholics Anonymous.
Forgiveness is the key, or so it seems to me. Keep moving forward, trust in the Lord, and the He will direct your path.
Because he holds fast to me in love, I will deliver him; I will protect him, because he knows my name. When he calls to me, I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble; I will rescue him and honor him. With long life I will satisfy him and show him my salvation. Psalm 91: 14-16.
From time to time I’ll post a recent sermon, if for nothing else to make use of this site. This was preached at Cooks Point Methodist Church in Caldwell on February 9, 2025.
FOCUS: Jesus came to minister to the least and the lost, that all might have hope.
THE GOSPEL FROM THE GROUND UP
From the beginning, God moves in our lives from the ground up. In Genesis, the Lord created Adam from the dust of the ground. In a few weeks, we will share in the powerful Ash Wednesday ceremony — ashes are placed on the forehead in the sign of the Cross, and we say, “Dust you are, and to dust you shall return, but the steadfast love of the Lord endures forever.”
We come from dust, and we return to dust.
Our Lord moves through salvation history, working through the most unlikely people and in the most unlikely ways. Except for a brief time as a kingdom, the people were subjected to rulers, and after the kingdom was conquered and the first Temple destroyed, they longed for the promised Messiah to set things right.
And to set things right as they saw it, to set things right by another kingdom, and to rule over and destroy their enemies.
They believed God would intervene in a powerful way, and naturally it would be another kingdom, like the one they had before, it would be what they were used to, something expected and welcomed.
But instead of all that, Jesus came.
The Messiah was way different from expected.
The way Jesus announced Himself in the Gospels is telling, and was infuriating to the ruling class, because he did not meet their expectations. In Luke’s account, Jesus read from Isaiah 60 in His hometown, reading the prophecy of the Messiah that:
The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of signs to thee blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, and to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.
Jesus read this proclamation of the ministry to the poor, the blind, the oppressed, and he left out the next line from Isaiah, the promise of vengeance.
The people tried to kill Him.
In Matthew 11 John the Baptist, imprisoned for confronting Herod, sent word asking if Jesus was indeed the Messiah, and Jesus told the messengers to tell John what they saw and heard:
the blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one that is not offended by me. (Matthew 11: 5-6)
Jesus did not meet their expectations, and does not meet expectations today. For instance, there are many formulas of how to grow a church today, and to make it vibrant and alive. I’ve been with many church leaders and we’re asked to use books written by prominent business leaders to build our church just like we would build any good business. Make sure the sound system is perfect, the lighting and the screens are good, the multi-media needs to be like a rock concert, and the leader dynamic and charismatic. (Oh well!)
And God can work with all that, and through all that. But we don’t build a church like a business.
A business doesn’t attract people who can’t pay for the product, and we can’t pay for the grace of God.
Jesus said, “When I am lifted up, I will draw all people near to me” in John 12:32.
Jesus did not try to build his ministry by courting the wealthy and powerful. He associated with those most others would not — the prostitutes, the lepers, the broken, the tax collectors, the sinners. Jesus offered hope, and Jesus offered healing, and Jesus offered salvation and freedom from sin.
And Jesus paid the cost of the membership Himself, paid it with His life.
When the stories of Jesus were told, when the epistles were sent out to the early church, they were not written in the scholarly Greek of Plato and Aristotle, it was the common Koine Greek of the people. (Thanks to Christipher Watkin, Biblical Critical Theory.)
When Paul wrote what we call the first letter to the Corinthian Church, he told those folks — Consider your own calling, brothers and sisters, not many of you were wise according to worldly standards, not many were powerful, nor many of noble birth. But God chose what is foolish in the world to shame thee wise: God chose what is weak in the world to shame the strong. God chose what is low and despised in the world, even things that are not, to bring to nothing things that are, so that no human being might boast in the presence of God. (1 Corinthians 1: 26-29)
THE TEMPLE NOT A BUSINESS
So now we come to this wonderful passage in John’s Gospel. This account of the cleansing of the Temple takes place early in John. The other Gospel writers place the cleansing late in His ministry, just before His arrest. No one is sure why this is so, and there is much speculation, and it is possible Jesus did this twice.
Jesus ministered to the poor, to the broken — we know that. These folks would have come to Jerusalem for the Passover festival, and they would offer the required sacrifices — oxen, sheep or pigeons. The animals had to be perfect, and there were perfect animals on sale on the grounds. If the oxen, sheep or pigeons you brought had any blemish or perceived blemish, it would be rejected and you would face either buying from one of the Temple sellers or being stuck in your sin. And if you went to exchange your money with the money changers to get the Temple dollars, you had to pay their price, too.
The rich has always preyed upon the poor. The second chance finance groups offer money at exorbitant interest rates, playing upon the desires of everyone to find happiness in their stuff. I worked for one month for a waterbed company in Houston, and if a customer did not qualify for the standard credit, there was a second chance lender that would be happy to help. And the salesmen would load them up on extras — end tables, other bedroom furniture…These folks would walk out of that store owing thousands of dollars and go home to await delivery of some bedroom furniture that they would keep for about six months before it was reposted and their credit ruined.
But the salesmen were happy.
Jesus was poor Himself, and perhaps he remembered traveling to Jerusalem from Nazareth with his family when he was a boy, and perhaps they had to buy the Temple sacrifices, too. Perhaps he saw his earthly father Joseph get cheated in monetary exchange rates.
Jesus made a whip out of cords, and he drove all the sellers and the money changers out of the Temple, along with the oxen, sheep and pigeons. He overturned the tables and emptied out the coins of the money-changers, calling them to take all that away, that His Father’s house was not to be a “house of trade”. (Other gospel accounts report Him saying, “Den of thieves”.)
Jesus’ disciples — can you imagine what they thought? — remembered the prophecy from Psalm 69 — “zeal for your house will consume me.”
The Greek word translated here as “zeal” is elsewhere translated as jealousy, envy, and, in one curious place, fury.
In Hebrews 10: 26-27 we read: For if we go on sinning deliberately after receiving the knowledge of the truth, there no longer remains a sacrifice for sins, but a fearful expectation of judgment, and a fury of fire that will consume the adversaries.
So it is a passion, a fire: This is what My Father’s house is about — a house of prayer, a place to meet God, a place to learn about our Lord, a place for healing and comfort and growth and stepping into real life — not a business to make money and gather other people around who don’t want to seek God as He is, and to seek out the poor, the broken, the lost, the prisoners, the mourning, the wounded.
(Beatitudes)
The church leaders asked Jesus for a sign, and he said, “Destroy this temple, and in three days I will raise it up.” Jesus was talking about the temple of his body, he was talking about his death and resurrection, but nobody who heard Him realized that.
The True Temple is Jesus.
JESUS DID NOT ENTRUST HIMSELF TO MEN
And finally, Jesus did not seek counsel for His actions, or for His plans for ministry; at least He did not seek counsel among men, but only with His Father. Our Scripture says he did not entrust himself to his followers, because he knew all people, and needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.
Maybe some of you know more about the poor, the broken, the addicts, the homeless, the prisoners. This is challenging work, and many folks don’t last long in that type of ministry. If we put our trust and faith in people, we will be disappointed every time. If we put our trust in the Lord, the rest will come about. Jesus did not put his trust in people.
So if we want to grow this church, or grow a ministry, we should follow the example of Jesus, who came to seek and save the lost.
What can we do to love God and to love others today?
In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.
What is your experience of fasting and prayer? I often look for big, fast results, but my experience with God is in slow, steady, and often unexpected direction.
I took part in the Advent study group on Fasting this past year with the Inspire Movement, and it provided unexpected riches. I’ve been part of many Inspire online and in person courses, but something about this one was different; perhaps it is because fasting is a practice, a discipline, or maybe because this time I linked it more closely with prayer — not only my prayers but those of others.
We met for five weeks, a small group of us, with some minimal reading each week of Phil Meadow’s excellent book on fasting. (A Practical Guide to the Discipline of Fasting, by Philip R. Meadows, available at https://inspiremovement.org) I had two prayer requests, one I shared and one I didn’t realize, and both were answered during our time.
My first prayer request has been ongoing for some time; it’s a matter of focus and vocation. How long do I stay as pastor of our church, which we took four years ago when I retired from full-time pastoral ministry? How do I incorporate my interests in writing, in music? What about more time for family, for travel?
The second need was an awakening to a long-held resentment against someone close to me. I’ll not go into details, but this relationship had been troubling for many years. After a flare-up, caused by me, I was led to the Sermon on the Mount, and Jesus’ directive to love our enemies, to pray for those who persecute you.
Perhaps there was a way out — what if I didn’t define that person as an “enemy”? Could I get away with my resentment then?
Of course that’s absurd, and thankfully I knew that. Next I somehow knew to turn to the famous “love chapter” in 1 Corinthians 13, read at nearly every wedding. In some translations there is the phrase, “love keeps no record of wrongs”, and with that the Word of God jolted me awake.
I had long kept a record of wrongs against this person, and many others, at great cost. Cherished resentments and self-righteousness take a toll on relationships with everyone, not the least of which is the Lord Whom I claim to serve.
I wrote a letter of repentance, asking forgiveness, and the Lord offered a freedom of heart that changed everything.
And for the second, while I was preparing for our first Sunday in Advent, I realized once more how much I love this work, how grateful I am for being called to be a pastor to this small church in Texas, and that I want to do this as long as the Lord lets me.
All other ministry flows out of being a pastor — playing music for shut-ins, being part of the Kairos prison ministry as clergy and part of the band, and more.
The Lord answered both these prayers, gradually, and it was while we were seeking Him during a time of fasting. I realized this truth when I met with one of my Inspire Fellowship bands. Prayers, fellowship bands, fasting and seeking the Lord….and the grace to know when prayers have been answered. I want to follow Jesus; I want to follow the Lord Who answers prayer, even when I don’t realize I’m praying them.
Here’s the questions I’ve been coming up with lately: when I read Scripture, do I want to learnmore about Jesus or do I want to become more like Jesus? Do I want to be informed about what the Bible says, or do I want to be transformed by the renewing of my mind that I might know the will of God? (Romans 12: 1-2)
I’ve been reading and using a devotional by Dallas Willard, and he wrote so gently and with so much challenge on these questions. I’ve read through the Bible many, many times, and I know it is good, and I’ve no regrets. And lately I have been reading slower, and memorizing larger passages of Scripture, and letting it soak in my mind and heart. After another blowup with a family member, I was reviewing the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5-7), and Jesus telling His followers to “love your enemies” and the rest. Suddenly I was led to 1 Corinthians 13, and read again that love keeps no record of wrongs.
Well I’ve spent many years — decades! — keeping records of wrongs, and keeping records of wrongs done or imagined done to me by people I profess to love. What’s going on here?
I want to be transformed. I want to become more like the Teacher I follow, and less like the role models often set before me. I want to be a man of peace, a child of God, a follower of Jesus.
My friend Pete could be a real pain. He was tall and could be intimidating. Pete was a Marine, serving our country and was still ready to defend our country with his life, if necessary.
Pete believed in the Gospel of Jesus Christ, and lived by Romans 1: 16 — For I am not ashamed of the gospel of Christ, for it is the power of God unto salvation to every one that believes, for the Jew first, and also to the Greek.
I know he wasn’t ashamed because shortly after I became pastor at his church he came to question me, and see where I stood. I think I was often found wanting.
Pete and I had many conversations over the years I served as his pastor, and most of them started off with, “Frank, we’ve got a problem.”
For a long time I’d feel a twinge when I saw his name come up on my phone. We talked and often argued for hours over worship services and what direction the church should go and what stands I should or should not take from the pulpit.
Things got to a point where one day I said to him:
“Pete, the thing is, you don’t like me, and you don’t like my ministry. But here’s some hope: I’m here now, but I’m a Methodist pastor. I won’t be here forever! Wait it out! In the meantime, find someplace to worship where you can be happy.”
But we hung in there with each other.
A series of things happened after that, and I had a realization, a recognition, about Pete while crossing over the Lake Houston bridge. I think the Holy Spirit convicted me, and I called Pete and told him how much I appreciated him, and told him for the first time that I loved him as a brother in Christ.
Our relationship completely changed.
Suddenly I realized Pete did not go to someone else when he had a problem with me. He came to me first. We dealt with it. Pete did not talk behind my back, as I did about Pete to my shame. Pete stood up for his faith without reservation. I came to realize Pete Collier modeled Christ for me as a man of integrity in ways I did not appreciate. We kept in touch after Brenda and I left Lake Houston, and I think the last words we said to each other over the phone were words of friendship and love.
Yes, my friend Pete could be a pain, and he modeled an unwavering faith and conviction that blessed and changed me.
As it turns out from my reading and experience, Jesus could be a real pain, too.
Realization two…
An Embarrassing Moment
For some time now, I have wanted to deepen my prayer life. I have done many things, bought books and listened to podcasts. I took steps toward joining a group, an order, that emphasized prayer. (Never mind that I am a life-vowed member of another order that practices the Daily Office!)
While on yet another Zoom call, this one to talk about preparations for the next steps in discernment, I had an embarrassing realization.
Why don’t I just pray more? Why do I need all of this?
How many times have I used the seeking of more knowledge as an excuse for inaction?
A decade ago my wife and I were on a Wesleyan Pilgrimage in England, and we heard Phil Meadows for the first time. Phil is the co-founder of the Inspire Movement, and he talked about spiritual disciplines, including fasting.
Something about fasting resonated with my soul, and I said so to another pilgrim on our bus as we were leaving.
“Yes, I’ll need to read more on that”, he said.
It was like I was looking in a mirror, seeing how ludicrous I could be! Why not just fast? Why not just pray?
How many times have I bought another book on a type or style of music rather than just practice one of my instruments?
What am I waiting for? Whose permission do I need?
Recently I took part in the Kairos Training held at the Wallace Pack Unit in Navasota, Texas. Kairos is a time to have an encounter or maybe an awakening or breakthrough with Jesus in prison. Corresponding trainings are Walk to Emmaus or Cursillo. I’ve now served on several teams, and seen signs of resurrection, of light coming into darkness…and the darkness cannot overcome it. (John 1:5)
Many of these men have been imprisoned for many years, and may have retreated so far inside themselves that it is particularly tough to find a way out. Many have little contact with friends or family on the outside, and when they receive letters as part of the Kairos weekend, it’s the first they may have seen in years.
During the weekend a series of talks are given. The men are seated six to a table, along with three team members, including one clergy. After the talks, the men discuss the subject and then each table makes a poster for each talk, and later in the day each table shows the group their favorite posters.
Taking Part in Life Again
During the poster presentation the man who presented looked like he had suffered a stroke. He was sitting down, held his body stiffly and spoke while looking mostly straight ahead. He pointed to a dark, round circle on the white poster board and said there was a man who was down a hole, and he never thought he’d get out. But that man (it was obvious he was speaking of himself in the third person) had found a way out, and that man was talking and taking part in life again.
Two days later, the same man walked up to the microphone at the front of the room during a time of open sharing of what the weekend had meant. He was walking, standing, and looking around the room.
Jesus had shown him hope, he said. Jesus had shown him love, and he had a bigger purpose to serve the Lord where he was.
Telling the Secret
Another man said he had kept a secret for 50 years, never telling anyone, and he was almost ready to share. He had been in the military and served overseas, and he said wanted to share with someone with like experience.
While we were trying to find such a person, he came up to me and asked me if we could talk. I don’t have military background, but he told me it was all right.
He told me the story. He had been leader of an elite unit, the best of the best in specialized warfare, and he said he had seen and done some horrible things. One day he and his team were supposed to clear a building where they suspected there was danger. As team leader, he was to go in first. A young man, barely more than a boy, pushed him aside and ran in, and was killed instantly by a grenade.
For 50 years this man had carried the burden, carried the guilt, that it should have been him going in, it should have been him dying, the boy should still be alive. And he never told anyone.
Where is Jesus?
“Where was Jesus in all that?” I asked him. At first he was shocked, and then we started talking about where Jesus would have been. I steered clear of any kind of talk about God’s will, but I did ask if he knew of a more perfect example of Jesus’ sacrifice than what his young man had done for him and his team. We talked about the love of God, and that Jesus was with him then and with him now, and he was lightened. And God began the process of releasing him.
We had been talking about forgiveness, and were preparing a powerful forgiveness ceremony, writing the names of people, places and things — including God! — that we needed and wanted to forgive and feel the release. The names were written on special paper, and dropped into a tub of water. As one of the clergy stirred the water, the paper dissolved, disappearing into the cloudy water.
Following Jesus is about seeking the Lord, and seeking forgiveness. There’s real life out there, no matter our circumstances. It’s not a one-time event for most of us, but a leading, a trusting, a moving step by step with Jesus, and step by step in a community. (Proverbs 3: 5-6)
Questions to Consider:
Do you know anyone who has given up on hope?
Does the idea of visiting those in prison appeal to you?
Are there secrets you protect? Is there forgiveness that you withhold? Even from yourself?
The Unforced Rhythms of Grace -- Frank Coats 