Clapping Daddy's Hands

Davey Will and I were playing the other day, and at one point he grabbed my right hand by the thumb.  At first, I thought he was just pushing my hand out of the way of his toys (which he does sometimes), but then he reached out for my other hand.  I eventually realized he wanted to play an activity we do sometimes:  clapping Daddy’s hands.  He grabbed my hands by the thumbs and slammed them together repeatedly:  clap, clap, clap!  Now, Davey Will enjoys clapping his own hands.  But his hands are small and baby-soft, while Daddy’s hands are bigger and more solid – so they make a bigger noise.  Sometimes it’s fun to clap Daddy’s hands!

 

Now, I could have refused to let Davey Will clap my hands, since – again – my hands are bigger and stronger.  Plus, I already know how to clap my own hands.  I didn’t Davey Will’s help.  But it really is a lot of fun to see the delight that Davey Will experiences when he takes the initiative to grab hold of my hands as we work together to clap, clap, clap!

 

As Davey Will clapped my hands that morning, it dawned on me.  That’s what prayer is!  We may enjoy serving other people, doing God’s work in the world.  But we must realize that our hands are weak, and small, and soft.  We really can’t have the impact we’d like to have.  In prayer, we eagerly reach out for our Daddy’s hands, which are bigger and stronger and so much more effective.  Now, He could do the work on His own, and He certainly has the authority to refuse our direction in “hand-clapping.”  But our Father seems to take great pleasure in the delight we experience when we take the initiative to grab hold of His hands as we work together to clap, clap, clap!

 

Prayer is clapping Daddy’s hands.

 

 

Sacramental Church Attendance

I have to confess.  I just realized it, really.  And it was a strange realization for someone who grew up Baptist (and remains in the Anabaptist tradition).

 

You see, as a Baptist, we never had “sacraments.”  We had two practices – baptism and the Lord’s Supper – that we called “ordinances.”  We stayed as far as we could from sacramental theology.  I remember learning how some parts of the church have historically believed that practices like the Lord’s Supper have grace-giving power in the act of performing the practice itself.  Even if someone didn’t have a great deal of faith, simply partaking of the Lord’s Supper was a means of grace, because the sacrament conveyed grace ex opere operato.  Now, that’s about as far removed as you can get from what I learned in my Baptist upbringing, and it didn’t seem to align with what I read in Scripture, either.

 

So – you can imagine my surprise when I realized that I am a closet sacramentalist.  Almost subconsciously, I believe that there is a “means of grace” I should participate in regularly:  going to a church service on Sunday mornings.  And here’s the big deal:  I subconsciously think that I will receive some spiritual benefit simply by showing up.  I have this underlying notion that simply getting up on time, making the effort to get me and my family ready, and making the journey to the church service will somehow convey some spiritual blessing.  I don’t have to have a heart ready to worship or fellowship with God’s people.  I don’t have to pay attention to the sermon or agree with the prayers.  I’m being a good Christian simply by showing up, and the spiritual blessing comes ex opere operato.

 

Whoops.  I don’t really believe that, do I?

 

Of course this whole idea is mistaken, misguided, wrong.  I do believe that it’s important to fellowship regularly with God’s people, and to set aside time for corporate learning and worship.  But that’s just it:  all those things – fellowship, worship, learning – are active, participatory practices.  I cannot expect to receive any spiritual blessing simply by getting my rear end in the pew.  I’m a member of Christ’s Body, not a passive consumer.  Simply saying “get me to the church on time” is not near enough.  When we gather with God’s people, it is an active, participatory commitment.

 

Church attendance isn’t a sacrament.

 

 

Power of Attorney

As a missionary who’s based in Cambodia for long stretches of time, there are occasionally times when important, official business needs to be taken care of on my behalf back home in the United States.  Thankfully, I was able to give my mother “power of attorney” so she can take care of that business for me.  When my attorney drew up the POA papers for us, he made extremely certain that the person I was giving POA to was entirely trustworthy.  Power of attorney, he said, is a “license to steal.”  The person holding POA can do anything in my name, and it’s as legally effective as if I had done it myself.   You don’t give that power to just anybody.  You give it to someone whom you know will act for your benefit, performing actions that accurately reflect your own intentions and wishes.

 

It’s interesting that Jesus tells us that we are supposed to petition the Father in Jesus’ name.  Oh, how often we simply use that as our “farewell phrase” in prayer, as we consistently close with the words, “In Jesus’ Name, Amen.”

 

But to pray in Jesus’ name means that we are given the authority to act on His behalf.  We are praying as the authorized representatives of Jesus Himself.  We are given, essentially, “power of attorney” from Jesus in our prayers.  That’s significant power, and with it comes the responsibility to pray and act for His benefit, performing actions that accurately reflect His own intentions and wishes.

 

Maybe, next time we pray, we should end by saying, “And we ask these things as the authorized representatives of Jesus, Amen.”  Or even, “And we ask these things with power of attorney from Jesus Christ, Amen.”

Davey Will's Prayer

Father in Heaven –

 

Give me a mind to know the truth of Your way,

Ears to listen to Your word and obey,

Eyes to see Your glory in all things,

A heart to love and delight in my King,

Hands to serve You through those who are in need,

And feet to follow wherever You lead.

 

Amen.

 

Metaphors of the Church

As I think about the church as a missional community, I find it helpful to identify new metaphors to help us envision what God’s intentions for our life together might be.  The Bible already has some great metaphors – the Body being one of my favorite (apparently also a favorite of the apostle Paul’s).  The idea of a building – with living stones that work together to grow upward – is a cool one, too.  But new metaphors are also helpful, especially in light of the need to counteract the all-too-dominant “church as corporation” model which has driven the church for too long.  So, here’s a couple of metaphors to explore:

 

CHURCH AS TEACHING HOSPITAL

A teaching hospital is a pretty cool idea, actually.  It’s not only a place where the sick and wounded can come to find healing; it’s also a place where young practitioners with potential can develop their skills, apply newly learned ideas, and develop into skilled healers.  The difference in the church, though, is that instead of two groups (patients and practitioners), there is only one.  The sick and wounded come to the church as a “teaching hospital community” to not only receive healing and restoration, but to themselves learn the disciplines and practice of being a healer toward others.  The church is a place of restoring the wounded and broken and transforming them into agents of blessing toward others.  Even more integrated than a teaching hospital, really!

 

CHURCH AS…

OK.  I can barely bring myself to write it, since the image seems so contradictory.  See, the band the Grateful Dead was a little bit before my time.  So, I can only speak, well, historically.  But they’ve worked their way into the consciousness of popular culture (as anyone who’s ever eaten Ben and Jerry’s Cherry Garcia can attest).  And one thing that’s most associated with the Grateful Dead are the “Deadheads” who would follow the band from concert to concert, developing their own unique culture and community centered around the band.  While I wouldn’t want to be (mis)understood as endorsing a band like the Grateful Dead (again, before my time, I’ve never even heard their music), I find the image a powerful one:  a group of people consumed with passion for someone, always on the road following, creating a culture and community out of their shared passion.  Maybe instead of “following the Dead,” we need to conceive as the church as “following the Living.”  We would be a people consumed with passion in our devotion for the Living One, never at home, never settled, living as a people-on-a-journey, always on the road, pilgrims following wherever the Living One goes, creating a culture and community out of our shared passion for this Living One.

 

Metaphors are never perfect.  Certainly these two aren’t.  But maybe they’ll provoke some meaningful thought, new ways to view and understand the church.

 

 

Follow Your Heart?

The idea of “following your heart” is a pretty common theme in the sentimental children’s movies I grew up watching.  You can imagine the kind of thing I’m talking about:  “You don’t have to be like the other kids, Billy.  Just follow your heart.”  Maybe it’s good advice – sometimes.

 

Since one of my responsibilities as an organizational leader involves fundraising, I have come to the awareness that financial donors often “follow their heart” – they give to the projects that impact them the most emotionally.  And, certainly, there are enough heart-wrenching problems in this broken, sinful world to drive us to tears.  At least, we OUGHT to be driven to tears.  But that doesn’t necessarily mean that all our financial giving should follow our tears.

 

Let’s be frank, at the risk of being a bit cynical.  One of the best ways to raise funds is to start an orphanage.  The image of orphaned children is emotionally powerful, and ties into a repeated Biblical theme that these fatherless are worthy of our attention and support.  Giving to an orphanage is “following your heart.”  But is an orphanage really the best way to bring holistic transformation to these precious young ones?  Maybe not.

 

Another emotionally powerful “hot topic” these days is human trafficking.  This despicable 21^st-century slavery is rightly raising the ire of God’s people, and motivating committed response.  Both money and personnel are following this passion, and God’s people are responding to this global injustice.  Rightly so, and much more needs to be done.

 

However, what bothers me is that sometimes the most effective, long-term, sustainable approaches to pursuing holistic transformation are NOT emotionally powerful.  Imagine going to a missions conference, and hearing two presentations.  One is from an organization that trains local staff in a developing country to go out into a village and work with local village development committees who create a village development plan and implement it over the course of 5-10 years, often with significant but incremental change for that village.  The other presentation is from an organization that rescues girls who have been trafficked into prostitution and brings them to a “safe house” where they are trained with vocational skills so they can start a new life.  Both organizations are desperately in need of additional funding for their work to continue.  Which one would you give to?

 

Maybe you’re different from others, but I have a strong suspicion that the organization combating human trafficking would receive an overwhelming majority of the response.  That is a desperate, urgent situation that demands immediate action, and people, well, they follow their hearts.

 

I’m not saying we SHOULDN’T support initiatives to combat human trafficking.  I’m connected with them to some degree myself.  But I fear that if we as missionaries (present and potential) and perhaps even more so as financial donors ONLY “follow our hearts,” then there are many significant initiatives that will remain underfunded.  Programs that develop young leaders, programs that invest in building capacity for community development – they’re just too long-term, too slow-paced, not urgent, not emotionally impacting, not trendy enough, etc.  But those long-range, plodding programs may well be the foundation of long-lasting transformational change.  Maybe when communities are healthy, and leaders are healthy, we’ll see a reduction in problems like orphans and human trafficking.

 

I’m not saying that we shouldn’t give to programs combating human trafficking, or even that we should stop supporting orphanages.  I’m just saying that as you make your next missional investment, thing about long-term sustainability.  Don’t just follow your heart.

 

 

 

Spiritual Reflections on Barney

You know you’re a theologically-trained parent of a toddler when you start to reflect on the spiritual implications of “Barney.” 

 

Yes, I’m talking about the purple dinosaur.  Barney is a pretty popular entity in our house.  I’m beginning to suspect that the relational priorities in our son Davey Will’s life are as follows:

1) Mommy

2)  Barney

3) Daddy

 

I’m OK with that, though.  It’s when the three come together in the living room all at the same time that Davey Will seems the happiest.

 

So, anyway, it seems like I’m seeing a lot of this purple dinosaur lately.  And being inclined toward theological reflection, I just can’t help but think…

 

Barney’s actually pretty cool.  He teaches kids to have good manners, get along with each other, respect parents, be safe, have vivid imaginations – the whole bit.  So, I’m wondering if the purple dinosaur can serve as a symbol of the Holy Spirit.  (Stay with me here.)  After all, Barney could be a shortened form of the name Barnabas, which Acts 4:36 tells us means “Son of Encouragement” (Greek, paraklesis).  Jesus Himself refers to the Holy Spirit as the Encourager (or Comforter, Greek parakletos).  And the Holy Spirit does empower ethical behavior, helps us to get along with each other, and is involved in artistic creation (see Exod 31:1-3).  So, there actually are some areas of congruence.

 

This isn’t to say that I’d ever make the connection in Davey Will’s mind between the imaginary Barney and the very real Holy Spirit.  But I can’t wait until my little guy can understand the reality of a Friend who is always with us whenever we need Him, helps us to get along with each other, and always teaches us the right way to live.

 

 

Children's Church

Church and kids mix together in very different ways here in Cambodia than they do in the U.S.

 

In the U.S., churches often have “nurseries” where kids are taken care of by well-trained staff, where there are lots of cool toys to play with, and where there are high-tech ways of calling the parents when the kids get too fussy.

 

Here in Cambodia, we have a solid wooden bed frame just outside the church building where parents sit with their kids (and hopefully the parents can coincidentally hear something of the service).  I usually just sit on a chair as part of the service while Sopheaktra stays on that bed frame with Davey Will.  But last week I sat with both of them, since the chairs were already pretty full by the time we arrived.  And, yes, the activity on that bed frame is pretty hectic, with it being very difficult to hear what’s going on in the service.  But it was cool to watch the kids play together.  Most kids bring some of their toys from home, and they generally wind up getting shared with any other kids who are at church that day.  Sometimes the kids get into minor conflicts, and the parents have to help them straighten it out, learn to share, and respond in appropriate ways.  Snacks are usually brought by parents to keep the kids happy, and those usually get shared, too.

 

Then it hit me.  What’s happening in the church service? Songs sung in praise to God, listening to the teaching of God’s word, etc.  Good stuff. But most “participants” don’t really participate; they’re pretty passive for most of the service.  Now, what’s happening with the kids outside?  Enjoying being together, learning how to resolve conflict with one another, sharing special possessions, and eating together.  I just had to wonder if the experience of the kids out on that wooden bed frame was as much a reflection of the New Testament picture of “church” as what was happening in the main service.  I suspect that it was.  Maybe even more so.