I have smiled more times in the last fifteen months than probably the last ten years of my life combined. It can be something big, like the first time Lucas said, “Da-da” or “Ma-ma” or something small like the first time he recognized light (saying “ight”), figured out the (mostly) child(ren)-proof locks in the house, or began dancing to R&B music.

I think the reason our children make us smile so much is because of the paradox of human relationships. It’s the thing that most of crave more than anything. Yet, it’s the most elusive aspect of life. That is, one would not think that the thing we need the most is the very thing that brings more work, pain, confusion, fear, insecurity and sheer complexity into our lives. But with our children, at least initially, it’s different. The love is total and complete causing us to lavishly give what is needed. This is why mother’s, in many cultures, are so revered, the bond is unique, probably holy.

But the most interesting thing in all of this is that a spark emerges from our belly, travels up to our lips, creating a smile because instinctively we know “If I can love this little one like this, maybe, just maybe, I can love others with a little less calculation. Maybe I don’t have to let the gut-level self preservation that’s been honed for years win any more. Perhaps, this seed of love can become a forest.”

Maybe one of the reasons God gives us children is because they save us from ourselves.

Philip Jenkins, author of some of my favorite reads over the last several years, recently wrote a short piece in The Christian Century concerning the number of Christians living in China.

• Some estimate that the # is as high as 120 million–which would make the story of Christianity in China one of the great success stories in the history of Christianity.
• Some estimate the # is as low as 20 million (just 1.5 percent).
• Jenkins leans heavily on the Templeton and Pew reports estimating that the # is likely around 65-70 million (a remarkable # considering that one hundred years ago there were likely only a few million). However, keep in mind that 65-70 million is only 5 percent of the total population.

. . . the Chinese number still inspires awe. Those 65 or 70 million Christians outnumber the total population of major nations like France, Britain or Italy. Put another way, China has almost as many Christians as it does members of the Communist Party. If not quite a miracle, this is a profoundly impressive story.

I remember vividly The Ryan White Story. A young white boy, who contracted H.I.V. (which became full-blown A.I.D.S. killing Ryan White) found a way into my spirit when I was young, I’ve never been able to forget it. I remember watching the story, hearing about the details of the mysterious disease that emerged in the 1980’s under whispers that the “gays” had brought this on themselves. One of my favorite songs is Elton John’s “Candle In the Wind”–originally written for Marilyn Monroe, later adapted for White, and even later Princess Di. Every time that song plays on the radio or at a restaurant I see Ryan White, lying in his hospital bed, dying of A.I.D.S.–not because he lived a reckless life (as if only the pious deserve mercy) but because of a blood transfusion gone bad. Ryan was a hemophiliac and relied upon regular blood transfusions (thank God we have advanced significantly in the past two decades). I remember the discussion of compassion that broke out in the middle school class I was a part of, questions, pleadings to our teacher to let us be involved.

Then Magic Johnson came public with his own battle. I remember crying when I saw the press conference. I was barely a teen, Magic was a hometown hero (Lansing is one hour from where I grew up) and international icon. He was one of the most recognizable, if not the most, athlete of the 1980’s (MJ wasn’t MJ yet). Incredibly, access to top-of-the-line medicine and quality food, Magic has been able to avoid the death-smothering grip of the disease. And, hopefully, simplify his then chaotic life-style.

This morning, I got my first experience with Step Into Africa, Otter Creek’s partnership project in August with World Vision to connect issues of global injustice with local American congregations. We’re expecting several thousand to come through our “temple” this week, I pray you’ll consider being one of them.

Every 15 seconds, someone dies of AIDS. 6 thousand deaths per day (that’s almost two 9-11’s every single day). 33 million people have AIDS. Africa alone has 11 million orphans due to AIDS.

This week, Otter Creek is telling the story. Come and join us.

Peace,

Josh

Nashville Friends and Otter Creek Family:

As citizens of one of the most influential countries in the history of the world, we are constantly faced with the stark realities of the wealth we enjoy and the poverty that plagues others. For a long time, I hid behind guilt. I stayed up late feeling “bad” and “ashamed” trying to find ways to simply appease God as if God was the helicopter parent trying to find ways to remind me how little I was doing to change the world.

But I don’t think God primarily works like this.

I think God is interested in inviting us into the pain and suffering of the world because God understands something profoundly hidden about human existence. When we enter into the stories of others, our own wounds, insecurities, and narcissistic tendencies get swallowed up in the realization that many of the problems we have are not problems worth having.

Nashville/Otter Creek has a chance to participate in and invite others to do likewise in the World Vision Step Into Africa.

The OC/Step Into Africa Facebook Page is a helpful place to learn more about this week’s agenda.

Step Into Africa is simply a chance for you (and your neighbors, co-workers, families, and friends) to see the world from different eyes. We’re inviting you because we think it will ultimately bring a deeper sense of God’s presence and purpose in our lives together.

NOTE: If you have reserved your ticket, you still need to indicate what time you’ll be participating. You can do so by going to this site to reserve your time slot. If you have a ticket, you still need a slot. If you don’t have a ticket, you can get one at this site also.

May God continue to use to help repair God’s world, one story at a time.

Peace,

Josh

I’ve just finished reading Rachel Held Evans’ first book, Evolving in Monkey Town. It’s not only well-written, I think she’s an important voice in helping to shape theological conversations in the immediate future for evangelicals and post-evangelicals (if that word will even make sense in ten years).

Here are a few reasons I suggest this book for your reading.

1. It’s painfully honest. Evans speaks prophetically about issues in culture but does so within the context of her own journey with the twin burden of doubt and faith. She does not critiquing Christianity from the outside, but from within the trenches of lived-out-vibrant faith.

2. It’s funny. I think humor is one of the more powerful ways to introduce God back into the public arena per faith and culture. Born in Dayton, TN (home of the infamous Scopes Monkey Trial) Evans offers a Southern voice akin to Donald Miller’s Portland-slanted view of American culture.

3. It does what every good book should do–causes me to reflect on my own  life while simultaneously thinking about how my life fits within the Big Story of God at work (albeit in messy ways) in our world.

Important thoughts on faith from Gary Glutting.

One of my jobs as a teacher of bright, mostly Catholic undergraduates is to get them thinking about why they hold their religious beliefs.  It’s easy enough to spark discussion about the problem of evil (“Can you really read the newspaper everyday and continue to believe in an all-perfect God?”) or about the diversity of religious beliefs (“If you’d been born in Saudi Arabia, don’t you think you’d be a Muslim?”).  Inevitably, however, the discussion starts to fizzle when someone raises a hand and says (sometimes ardently, sometimes smugly) “But aren’t you forgetting about faith?”

That seems to be enough for most students.  The trump card has been played, and they — or at least the many who find religion more a comfort than a burden — happily remember that believing means never having to explain why.

I myself, the product of a dozen years of intellectually self-confident Jesuit education, have little sympathy with the “it’s just faith” response.  “How can you say that?” I reply.  “You wouldn’t buy a used car just because you had faith in what the salesperson told you.  Why would you take on faith far more important claims about your eternal salvation?”  And, in fact, most of my students do see their faith not as an intellectually blind leap but as grounded in evidence and argument.

To read the rest of the article, click HERE.

Eugene Peterson on scripture’s power:

“Exegesis is an act of love. It loves the one who speaks the words enough to want to get words right. It respects the words enough to use every means we have to get the words right. Exegesis is loving God enough to stop and listen carefully to what he says. It follows that we bring the leisure and attention of lovers to this text, cherishing every comma and semicolon, relishing the oddness of this preposition, delighting in the surprising placement of this noun. Lovers don’t take a quick look, get a ‘message’ or a ‘meaning,’ and then run off and talk endlessly with their friends about how they feel.”

“We are fond of saying that the Bible has all the answers. And that is certainly correct. The text of the Bible sets us in a reality that is congruent with who we are as created beings in God’s image and what we are destined for in the purposes of Christ. But the Bible also has all the questions, many of them that we would just as soon were never asked of us, and some of which we will spend the rest of our lives doing our best to dodge. The Bible is a most comforting book; it is also a most discomforting book. Eat this book; it will be sweet as honey in your mouth; but it will also be bitter to your stomach. You can’t reduce this book to what you can handle; you can’t domesticate this book to what you are comfortable with. You can’t make it your toy poodle, trained to respond to your commands.”