De-Connecting

Let me just begin by saying that I am not the exemplar of simplicity. No, I have far too many gadgets, and I have too many cares and concerns (many of which are selfish) to be your example in the ways of simplicity. That being said, I do try. Lauren and I try our best to live fairly simple lives, to be content, and to keep our lives free and clear of excess baggage. This means consistently analyzing our lives, and our belongings, in light of our mild pursuit of simplicity. Lately, I've been doing a lot of analyzing and contemplating what I want my life to look like as we prepare for the birth of our little girl. I've been analyzing the few bills we have (yes, we're contemplating getting rid of cable - I've even contemplated getting rid of our TV's, but I'm just not quite ready for that!) and one of the things I keep going back to is our Wii. The Wii is fun - really fun! My Wii and most of the accessories were gifts given to me over the last few years, and I've loved it! But that being said, I haven't played it in six months (or more). Likewise, though I enjoy it, I don't really want to play it. I'd rather be reading a book, or watching a movie, or doing something with Lauren that will allow us to talk to one another.
So, this week I put my Wii up for sale on eBay. Big news right? Maybe not, but I can honestly tell you that there was quite an internal struggle going on as I held the controller in my hand, debating whether or not to go through with deleting off my information and reformatting the hard drive - the point of no return.
You see, your stuff, or mine at least, calls to you. It begs for your attention, to be a priority. It tells you that you have every right to own it, to enjoy it, and to cling to it. But sometimes, the best thing you can do with your stuff is to give it away, or to sell it, thus de-cluttering and de-connecting from one of your many gadgets.
I have many gadgets, I am fortunate, but I don't need ALL gadgets. A few is enough.
I was reminded of this when I was editing a friend's book on theology and the technology of pop culture a couple weeks ago. Sometimes we need to de-clutter or de-connect. Sometimes we need to ask how much is enough. Sometimes we need to simplify. If I'm going to have this gadget, then perhaps I don't need that gadget, etc..... This might seem simple enough to you, but it is very counter-cultural.
You don't need everything you want, nor would it be good for you if you were to get all that you desire.

One more thought on this note. This week I taught the teens the story of Zacchaeus (Luke 19:1-10). The thing that sticks out to me most about story of the "wee little man" from Jericho, is his giving of half of his possessions to the poor, and his offer to give to those whom he had cheated (the number of people was probably high!) four times what he had swindled them for! Wow! I don't know what Jesus said to him as they walked to his house, but it was obviously powerful.
Don't misunderstand me. I'm not giving the money I make from selling my Wii to the poor. I'll be honest with you. I'm going to use it to help pay for the ridiculously expensive tires I just had to put on my car (why are tires so expensive anyway?). Like I said, I'm not the model in all things simple, nor am I Zacchaeus. I have, however, learned to not let my possessions own me. I could give them up - all of them - in a heartbeat, if I needed to. Yes Lauren, even my iPad! :-)
So the message is simple: take a moment to think about your possessions, your gadgets. Do you need all of them? Do they own you? Should you give them away? Or should you simply consolidate, de-clutter, or de-connect just a bit?
The answer to these questions, is most likely yes - in some form. If you go through with it, you'll be glad you did, I promise.

Complete Confidence

By nature I am a very confident person. I’m not afraid to stand up in front of people; I’m not timid of leading large groups or tasks. Confidence is very important to the well being and development of each person. Good parents desire to build up their children’s self-esteem and confidence. We seek to instill the confidence in children to help them feel important, valued and able to grow up to be anything they want to be. And that is a good thing. We all need to live with a good amount of confidence.

However, confidence also has a down side, for example, when we become so confident about our own ideas or opinions that close the doors to other people ideas, insights or wisdom. At some point in our life, we have all done this. We have pushed away those who could have helped us because we were so confident that our way was the right way.

In John 8:12-20, I began to think about this type of confidence. Both parties were confident.

On the one side was Jesus. He was fully confident of his divinity; “my testimony is valid because I know where I have come from and where I am going” (John 8:14).

On the other hand, was the Pharisees who were also confident. They were confident that Jesus was not the Messiah, “you are testifying on your own behalf; your testimony is not valid” (John 8:13).

They were so sure they were right that demanded that Jesus prove his validity by following the book of the law (Deut. 19:15) by providing two witnesses. The irony was Jesus precisely gave the Pharisee’s exactly this but in terms that they could neither recognize nor receive because they could only judge or view things “according to the flesh” (cf. 5:40-44). The Pharisee’s were so confident that they knew who the Messiah that they failed to recognize that he was right there in front of him!

How often are we so sure about something that we miss the greater truth right in front of us? Are you so confident about how the church should be run or look like that you fail to see how God is working in new and maybe even uncomfortable ways? Are you so confident about your friendships that you miss out on some relationships that may push you to Jesus in more poignant ways? Are you so confident about how you should lead your job or family that you push God’s presence into a compartmentalized aspect of your life instead of allowing Him to live throughout all aspects of your life?

I am reminded today that I am human. I can be fully confident in the words and actions of Jesus. But besides this relationship, maybe we should all take a step back and allow God to lead in other areas of our lives. Let’s not live so confident that we push away God’s presence right in front of us.

Where are you from?

I have a friend named Chip. We met in college and were roommates for 2 years before he decided he wanted a dorm room with a view of the Pacific and transferred to Point Loma. He's a lifelong member of the Church of the Nazarene. Lifelong "nazzies" (not to be confused with Nazis) like Chip and I are able to play this game at church gatherings that is very similar to "The 6 Degrees of Separation of Kevin Bacon." Perhaps you've heard of this phenomenon? The idea behind "6 Degrees" is that any actor can be linked to Kevin Bacon in 6 movie connections or less. For instance: Sean Connery was in Entrapment with Maury Chaykin, who was in Where the Truth Lies with (drum roll please) Kevin Bacon. That would be a score of 2. Anything higher than 4 is very rare. What Kevin Bacon lacks in quality he makes up for quantity. (To waste endless hours click on this link: http://oracleofbacon.org/)

Chip and I played "Nazarene 6 Degrees." We theorized that between the 2 of us we could link ourselves to everyone at General Assembly in 6 degrees or less. We tested this theory at this sacred gathering of Nazarenes in San Antonio (1997). We had nothing better to do while our parents were in meetings deciding the fate of our church. As we met people, we began many conversations wanting to know where someone was from. (Knowing a person's hometown, home church and home district is essential.) They would say, for instance, "Colorado." And we would say, "Do you know Natalie from Arvada?" They would say, "I think I went to church camp with her back in the day." And we would say, "Her cousin goes to Trevecca with us."

And there you have it. We connected with that person in 3 degrees. That's basically how our week went. I know it's sad, but we're Nazarene and that's how we roll.

We place a premium upon a person's hometown. Where you hail from reveals a lot about your identity. Whether we realize it or not we make judgments about a person based upon where they were raised or where they have spent significant amounts of time. People in Seattle love coffee. Folks in Texas wear boots. Friends in Nashville all play an instrument and sing on the weekends. Californians are disturbed by the emissions of my car. Whether we realize it or not, we assume a lot about a person based upon their hometown or where they live or how they talk.

This has been going on for quite some time. This is what those who were unsure of Jesus' claims of Messiah said in today's Ashes to Fire Gospel reading:

"But we know where this man is from; when the Messiah comes, no one will know where he is from." (John 7:27)

Everyone knew that the Messiah would not come from Galilee. Saviors don't hail from little blue-collar towns like Nazareth.

As someone who is pretty adept at "6 Degrees", I wonder if I would have connected all the dots and believed that Jesus really was the Messiah…the Son of God…the Savior of the world. As I read myself into John's story, I have to be honest with myself. I would have missed it. I would have allowed my preconceptions to get in the way of what God wanted to do in the world.

In response to these people, Jesus clarifies that where you are from isn't nearly as important as who you are from:

Then Jesus, still teaching in the temple courts, cried out, "Yes, you know me, and you know where I am from. I am not here on my own authority, but he who sent me is true. You do not know him, but I know him because I am from him and he sent me." (John 7:28-29)

I am challenged by this scripture to know more intimately the one who sent Jesus. I'm tired of trying to know him by connecting the dots myself. Fortunately, I do know this guy from Nazareth.

You Are Not Alone

One of the thoughts for this week was found in Psalm 69:13, 18 …”My prayer is to you, O Lord. At an acceptable time, O God, in the abundance of your steadfast love, answer me … Draw near to me, redeem me, set me free”. Have you ever prayed something like that to God? I have … more often than I’d like to count. No, I don’t sound like that when I pray. My prayers are tend to be more in the form of questions … such as “Why am I going through this”? Or “when will this end”? Or “Ok … I get it. Lesson learned. Can we move on”? Honestly, I’ve found myself praying those exact prayers this week.

The lesson I learned through this reading addresses grief, sadness and often isolation. David is writing to God and he is tired and alone. As the leader, his kingdom is a mess. Partly because of David’s own decisions but also because of his people and the choices they are making. He is in great emotional distress. David looks to God and asks God for an answer. David is essentially putting to ball back in God’s court. He is acknowledging that it is not acceptable for David to act like a child and demand that something be done … right now. I know myself and I wouldn’t be so patient. I would probably ask God to send a few lightning bolts down to shake things up a bit. Ok, maybe that isn’t the right approach, but sometimes it makes you feel better. :)

Instead of stomping his foot (I’m sure he has tried that before and saw he didn’t get positive results), David asks God to do something at an “acceptable time”. David is asking to be heard. He is asking not to be dismissed. He desperately wants God to surround him during his time of sadness and to fix whatever is broken inside of David. Note that David is not asking for God to “zap” the other people. Instead David is asking to be drawn close to God, redeemed and then set free.

I don’t like to be sad. I don’t like to feel isolated or alone. Sometimes it happens because of the choices I’ve made and sometimes it is because God is trying to teach me something. Much like my post last week, when God is trying to teach me something, I know that there is a “change” involved. Almost always, it is a change that needs to happen inside of me. So after a week of asking God if we can “move on”, I’m learning that sometimes God’s answer is “not yet … wait”. While I may not like the answer, I know He isn’t going anyway and that I’m not alone. God promised to never leave me and I’m holding Him to His promise.

So if you’d had a bad week or you are in the middle of some kind of emotional, financial, physical or relationship distress, look around you. You are not alone. Ask God to draw you near Him. I promise, you will find peace.

I've Seen it All

I write this letter from paradise.  Sitting in a beautiful hotel room, looking out over three pools, and a very expensive golf course, getting ready to go to a private, pristine beach.  It's been a long few days for Lauren and I.  I feel like I've seen all that the Prophet Jeremiah wrote about in today's Ashes to Fire passage (Jer. 5:1-9).  

We spent a long day in the hectic, chaotic, sometimes depressing world that is the airport.  People came and went, hustling and bustling, ignoring, lusting, rejoicing, mourning, but always hurrying, always trying to get to where they "need to be," never thinking of others.  Conveniently, they carried their gods with them on their journey.  Gods named Blackberry, iPhone, iPad, Laptop, Netbook, Dulce & Gabana, Coach, Prada, Samsonite, and sometimes a fashionable cross on their neck.  (I'm writing this from my iPad....) 
We stayed for two days and nights with the Church of the Nazarene's missionaries here, at their lovely home, with their modest possessions, sharing in their rich (in ways that really matter) life. 
We visited two very poor communities and our churches there. 
We met amazing pastors and lay people.  One pastor walks 45 minutes each way to her church twice each day (two round trips) just so that she can care for the children in the impoverished community.  Another has built a very modest school building on the back of his church, in which they teach and minister to almost 100 kids each and every day all through the year.  Around 30 of these kids are sponsored through NCM child sponsorships...the others are still in need of sponsorships. We were welcomed into the warm, inviting home of a DS who was eager to have our church partner with a church on his district.  They cooked for us - a feast of a lunch!  

We saw the poor and we have seen the rich.  I've seen the unfaithful, and I've seen "one person who acts justly and seeks truth."  I've seen the lion, the wolf, and the leopard - I've also seen the lamb.  I've seen the houses of prostitutes (from the outside of course!).  In this place, over the last few days, I think I've seen it all.  

During Lent we reflect upon our sinfulness.  Sin is, after all, the great equalizer.  In the faces of all I've seen, as well as the face I see in the mirror, I've seen sin.  In the words of Scripture Lauren and I read together this morning, I read and felt judgement.  If you were honest with yourself, then you did too.  And yet, I'm reminded of the one thing that makes us all even more equal, the one thing that trumps and is more real than even sin: grace.  By the grace of the Father, made known to the world in the Son Jesus, by the power of the Holy Spirit, grace has come into the world!  Now and forevermore, grace is the most real thing thing that exists!  Amen!  

You, no doubt, know judgement and condemnation, but do you know grace?  Do you know grace today?  Jesus tells us to stop searching for it, even in the Scriptures (this means the Old Testament, for when He said this, the only "Scriptures" there were, were what we now refer to as the Old Testament) and to instead be found out by it - to be found by him!  In the words of Charles Wesley, "Amazing love, how can it be?  That oh, my God, it found out me!"  

Grace can find you anywhere, but there are places and situations where you will be more receptive to it.  I believe the Dominican Republic is one of those places.  I hope you'll get the chance to come here soon to experience it for yourself.  

I've seen it all, and no matter how dark things might get, no matter how pervasive sin may be, grace is greater still.    

Finding Delight amist the limitations

Okay, so we are moving into third week of Lent. We are approaching the mid-point and I don’t know about you but I am amazed at how my body is adjusting to the changes I’ve made. (In the Springer family we have given up a variety of things—no caffeine, chocolate, processed foods, added food coloring…. Now don’t think we are being martyrs! In fact most of this is because of a new diet restriction Grace has been put on, but that is an entirely different story).

As a family, we are learning how to cook all over again as we figure out what foods we can and can’t eat. Most people’s responses when they hear about our diet restrictions offer words of solace and almost sympathy as they immediately focus on the limitations of this diet. However, I am thankful and even take delight in this change. Sure it has been difficult, sure I would enjoy not to cook at least three full meals a day—but through it I have been able to see a fullness and variety of foods that I had had never experienced before.

And as time has passed, I’m also noticing how much my body isn’t craving things that it used to. In fact it is pretty amazing how adaptable I am becoming. I have actually looked forward to eating things such as fresh bell peppers and quinoa! And each night, I have noticed I am thinking less and less about making cookies and cakes to finish off our meals. In fact, I would say each day I am thinking less and less about what I gave up and instead thinking more about what I am able to enjoy!

And isn’t that what giving up things is all about? Quite naturally our focus shifts from a inward focus of what “we are missing” and instantaneously our focus shifts outward to simply enjoying the moments, the presence…or more importantly savoring all of what God has created us to experience.

And this made me think—how often do we tend to stick with what is familiar and comfortable that we miss out on the fullness of God’s beauty and grace? How often do we settle for what is familiar rather than pushing ourselves to experience new things?
We often talk about having desert experiences because through them we are able to reach the mountaintop, however I’m challenged today to see the joy and beauty amidst the desert. We don’t need to wait until Easter or the end of this Lenten season to experience the fullness of God’s presence. He is already here and probably more prevalent if you are ready to simply look from a new perspective! What can you more fully experience because of what you gave up?

The John 3:16 Guy

We've all seen him. He's a mainstay at big-time sporting events. Somewhere in every crowd is that guy…you know…the guy with the wig on and the sign that reads, "John 3:16." I'm not sure who decided this would be a good idea, but for whatever reason someone determined that instead of personally inviting friends to church, holding up a sign in a large crowd with a Bible reference on it would be more effective. My guess is the person with season tickets directly behind "John 3:16 Guy" is not a big fan of "Stadium Evangelism."

Why dress up in a wig and hold this sign up? Why choose John 3:16?

The psychological make-up that would convince a person to dress up and make a scene at a public sporting event is something on which I'm not qualified to commentate. The rationale behind choosing John 3:16, however, is well-within my field of expertise.

It's a verse God-fearing church folks have quoted all their lives. It may be one of the first verses we commit to memory in Sunday school. It's a beautiful promise of scripture:

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. (John 3:16)

For many believers, understanding this promise has been the first step of faith into a relationship with God. I'm not sure how many people "John 3:16 Guy" has converted through his sign ministry, but I can only imagine that bringing people to faith in Christ is his intention. Undoubtedly, this is the most common way we hear and read this passage.

This week, in our Ashes to Fire readings, we were taken back to the night-time rendezvous of Nicodemus and Jesus. As Jesus explains what it means to be "being born again", or as another translation says "being born from above", he says something to unbelieving Nicodemus about the significance of what God has done to provide eternal life. In the course of this dialogue, Jesus shares with Nicodemus what we know as John 3:16. At the end of this conversation, Nicodemus and Jesus bow for prayer, and Jesus leads him in the sinner's prayer…

…oh wait.

John 3 actually concludes rather anti-climatically. Nicodemus leaves this encounter with Jesus just as lost and unbelieving as he was before. I heard John 3:16 in context this week. It is part of a larger conversation – a conversation Jesus had with a friend. Nicodemus wasn't converted. He didn't "walk the aisle" or "pray through at the altar." He did, however, converse about the love of God that gave his one and only Son for a lost and dying world. Now that's something I'd like to hear more about.

I wonder what the church would look like if we made the truth of John 3:16 a part of our everyday conversation. We don't need more sign-holders…just some folks who are willing to sit with friends and talk about God.

Ash Wednesday Reflections

Ash Wednesday is one of the highlights of my year.

I’ll never forget the first time I participated in an Ash Wednesday service. It was my first year at Point Loma, and I was working on Jim Manker’s youth staff at San Diego First Church of the Nazarene. Jim is the best youth pastor I’ve ever known, and I made it a priority to watch and learn everything he did. When late February/early March rolled around (I forget when exactly Ash Wednesday fell that year) Jim told the teens that next week, they’d be participating in an Ash Wednesday service. They didn’t seem to know much about what it was, and, frankly, neither did I! The service was unlike anything else I had ever experienced: dark, quiet, contemplative, and more than anything else, mysterious. That night I was reminded that I was a sinner, that I was finite, and that I was in need of grace more than ever.

You know, I don’t think holiness makes much sense separated from routine times of confession, such as Ash Wednesday. I’ve heard people say that “holiness folks” should not participate in Ash Wednesday services (I’ve also heard them say that we shouldn’t say the Lord’s Prayer. Imagine that….) but I think that the exact opposite is actually the truth. Holiness folks must [read an encouragement, not a demand] participate in Ash Wednesday, and in Lent.

Every year since, in locations around the world, I’ve had ashes imposed upon my forehead as a symbol of my mortality, my fallen, sinful nature, and my dependence upon the grace of God. “Remember it was from dust you were created, and to dust you shall return.” This is the possibly the most true statement of mortality that can be made. Mortality, therefore, is defined by these two things: createdness, and death. The journey of Lent, which begins anew each year on Ash Wednesday, is a journey through these two realities, made all the more stark in that it is a journey conducted under the shadow of the cross. And yet, no journey that is darkened by the shadow of the cross of our Lord is complete until the darkness is chased away, forever, in the glorious light and life of the resurrection. For this reason, we proclaim the mystery of our faith, “Christ has died, Christ has risen, Christ will come again.”

Ash Wednesday is a humbling experience, it is a sobering experience, and it is an experience that should instill in each and every one of us the hope of the resurrection of our Lord and Savior - the firstborn from the dead – and therefore our own.

So, in the end, Ash Wednesday is about hope, plain and simple. Collectively and individually we remember our status as created beings, dependent upon a creator; we are forced to accept that our lives, grand or mundane, are finite and will end; and thus we learn the stuff of the hope that is the Christian faith.

Change

Do you like change? Does change make you uncomfortable? It does for me. I don’t care for change and when I do experience changes in my life, I want a very detailed description as to why this change has to happen and whether or not this change is going to be good for me in the long run. Now, it helps to understand that I am a planner. I like a plan. No … I’m sorry, I need a plan.

Over the years, God has taken my “need” for a plan and turned it upside down. In my mind, I envision my live as a book and God tore that page out, crumbled it up and threw it in the trash. He is saying to me that I do not need to write in permanent marker in the pages of my life … I need to use a pencil with a large eraser. I can dream and I can make plans but I need to be flexible enough to get out the eraser and rewrite as needed. God reminds me every day that when I make a plan, He has a bigger plan in mind. One that helps me grow both spiritually, emotionally and unfortunately more often than not in maturity. I say unfortunately because in my experience, growing in maturity often is difficult and more often than not, painful.

A very wise friend made a comment this week about how difficult it is to change in the church. We change every day at work. Our boss give us a new plan or new guidelines and we accept them for what they are, follow the rules and move forward without much thought. So why is it so difficult to accept change when it happens in church? Why do we become irritated because we are asked to get out of our comfort zone to do something that we’ve never done before? I believe this is about control. In our jobs, often we relinquish control over to our bosses because that is how things are. In our church, this is different because this affects our lives … who we are, what we believe. Relinquishing control over to God is difficult. Allowing ourselves to be open to things God wants to introduce us to can be difficult. We become vulnerable and transparent. What if we don’t understand? What if this new thing at church exposes us to areas that we are not comfortable or areas that we don’t understand? What if someone sees that I don’t have it all under control? What if … what if …

So this is what I propose … what if we allow God to be the Lord of our lives? We know our church leaders continually seek God’s guidance in everything they do. How freeing would our lives be if we put down our permanent markers and picked up a pencil to write in our book? Allow God to change us and to help us grow.

Having ENOUGH.

Excess. We all have areas in our life where we hold onto too much. Maybe it's clothing, electronics, or for me, it's food. Now I'm not just talking about over-eating, I'm also talking about the kinds of foods we eat. Think of the meals you ate this week. I imagine you ate meals with additional sauces, spices and even side dishes that complimented each item on your plate. Think about it...when was the last time you simply had a plain piece of chicken, no flavoring, no additional ingredients. We often turn our noses up at this, however as we begin this Lenten journey, I have been reminded that this is how so much of the world eats. Food isn't extravagant or excessive--it is simply enough.

Most of the world doesn't eat in excess they simply eat what is available and in ready supply. And the amazing thing (now here's the real kicker for us) they are grateful for these meals. These simple meager meals are ENOUGH.

I am reminded of how the Israelites wandered in the wilderness for forty years. During this time, God provided manna for the Israelites to eat. Now in the book of Exodus, this manna was described as having a honey-like taste, however can you imagine eating this exact same meal for forty years? I don't know about you, but I'm sure this taste would become old and even unexciting. I'm sure I would be looking for new ways to cook this or even what I could add to it to change the flavor or texture. Yet I think God was intentional to provide the same meal to the Israelites. Through this meal, the Israelites discovered they had ENOUGH. God had already provided them everything they needed to be satisfied.

Oftentimes for Lent, we choose to give something up. I find it amazing how we struggle to give up this ONE thing however these Israelites basically gave us EVERYTHING they had, even down to their meals when they left Egypt. It was like God was stripping them to their basic essentials to work in their hearts and minds what it means to be fully dependent on Him and to find complete satisfaction in His presence.

That's a hard concept for us to fully understand because we have been given so much. However, I am challenged by this. Especially in light of the fact that most of us will "re-add" whatever thing we gave up during Lent immediately after this season. It's like we immediately gravitate to these excesses in our lives. What would it look like if we didn't simply eliminate these excesses for forty days but allowed this to be a continual shaping process as we seek to find new areas in our lives that we need to strip away. Imagine what it would be like to continue to live with less, yet feel more satisfied than before. Imagine what it would be like to simply live with ENOUGH.

Creation is Telling a Story

Creation is telling a story. It’s a story you’ve heard and seen before, and yet, creation is faithful to tell this story again and again. As I drove to the office today, I began to hear this story again: trees have new buds on them, flowers are beginning to bloom, grass is becoming green again. Spring is coming, and I must admit that this might be my favorite chapter. The transition the world makes from winter to spring reminds us that dead things can live again. This is the story that our Father’s world is faithful to tell each year.

The church has a story. It is a story that proclaims that dead things can and will live again.

Last Wednesday night we gathered as a church body to hear some very unsettling news: “From dust you were created, and to dust you shall return.” This is a liturgical way of saying, “we’re dying.” We’re dying of our sin, of our self-centeredness, of our guilt, and of our infidelity to God and others. The prognosis is grim, but thank God, the church has a story to tell.

Like the regularity of the seasons, the Church must be faithful to proclaim this story. For those who are dying, we must hear again how Jesus confronted Satan in the desert, how he made the lame to walk again, how he changed water into wine, how he raised Lazarus from the dead and how he gave sight to the blind. Like Peter, we are summoned to walk on the water with Jesus. Like Matthew, we are invited to retire from tax collecting. Like the Sons of Zebedee, we are called to leave our nets and become fishers of men. As we walk in the footsteps of the Master, we are invited to find our place in this story and to be immersed in the redemptive activity of God.

At this point in my life, I’ve heard creation tell its story 32 times. There are some things about this telling and re-telling that never change. There is a season for cold, for flowers, for splashing in the ocean and for harvesting crops. I find myself caught up in the same rhythms of life year after year. And yet, each year is markedly different from the others.

Likewise, the Gospels haven’t changed their proclamation of who Jesus is or what he did. Matthew still has 28 chapters. Mark is still the shortest of the four. Luke continues to give us “an orderly account” with physician-like precision. And John will always present a side of the story that is missed by the other three evangelists. I’ve heard the Church tell these stories before. The facts remain the same, the places haven’t changed, and all the major players remain unaltered. Each year, however, it is as if I’m hearing them for the first time.

The church is telling a story. It’s a story you’ve heard before, but then again, maybe you haven’t.