Memory Residue: Memoirs of a Visitor...Thoughts from Joel Bidderman

A Place to Be Human: Meditations on community part five

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Fri, 10 Feb 2012 11:35:17 PST

As a worship leader, I want to lead others in being authentic; because I believe that when we are authentic and real (with God and each other), our worship is authentic. I fully believe that our identity as Believers is tied up in and defined by Who God is and what He's done. At the same time, I believe that only when we are willing to come to God as humans in our sin and humanity, broken, needy, and honest, is there 'worship in spirit and truth' (John 4:23). There is the 'real truth' of God that needs to break through the false truths of how we define ourselves based on our shame and brokenness, or our self-righteousness. Every week, every worship set, every day I find myself awaking to a grey and skewed version of what creation 'ought' to be, to this place that needs a Savior, and needs new mercy...possibly even more than it did yesterday.

Brennan Manning touched this deeply throughout his Ragamuffin Gospel (1990), a snippet is seen here:

The prayer of the poor in spirit can simply be a single word: Abba...In this sense, there is no such thing as bad prayer. A third characteristic of the tilted-halo gang [ragamuffins] is honesty. We must know who we are. How difficult it is to be honest, to accept that I am unacceptable, to renounce self-justification, to give up the pretense that my prayers, spiritual insight, tithing, and successes in ministry have made me pleasing to God! No antecedent beauty enamors me in His eyes. I am lovable only because He loves me (p. 83).

And in that place He bears our shame, our false self, and sees us (somehow) as who we 'ought' to be. He sees Jesus. "Somehow," that is. I don't know how exactly, but He does it. And Christ becomes our 'true' (actual) self in His eyes. Hallelujah. And because it is truly grace, we can count on it, as we pray for Him to make that revelation true and enduring to (and in) our hearts.

Back to community. Being a place for ragamuffins clothed in Christ, I believe, is essential. My friend Mike's life message is: "being a safe place." Being a 'safe place' can at first seem slightly subjective to varying perspectives (how one defines 'safe'), but in this sense I believe that 'being a safe place' is to be a place that allows the walls come down: walls of self-righteousness, of weakness, of brokenness, and even apathy. A safe place to say "yes, I am part of the grey, skewed, world that I woke up inside of today...and I need a savior (the Savior)."

In his book Life Together (1954), Bonhoeffer wrote:

The final break-through to fellowship does not occur, because, though they have fellowship with one another as believers and as devout people, they do not have fellowship as the undevout, as sinners. The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous. So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy. The fact is that we are sinners

But it is the grace of the Gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner that you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone. "My son, give me thine heart" (Prov. 23:26). God has come to you to save the sinner. Be glad! This message is liberation through truth (p. 110-111).

Being a 'safe place' is to be a place of the grace of the Gospel, that realistically approaches the Throne of Grace (Hebrews 4:16) as a Body and says corporately and in confidence: "We need Your mercy, Lord. We are in need, Lord. Abba!" And I've found that taking this message (of unconditional love), to a world of conditional love is powerful. To embody that testimony of such a love (while being honest in our failures of carrying that love perfectly), I believe, is hopeful and contagious. There is joy there. When we come to the point where we realize we don't have to perform, but be honest and laugh and cry.

The LORD your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing (Zeph. 3:17)

Reference:
Bonhoeffer, D. (1954). Life Together. NY: Harper Row, Publishers.
Manning, B. (1990). The Ragamuffin Gospel. OR: Multnomah Books.

Speaking the Same Language: Meditations on community part four

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 21 Feb 2012 18:37:30 PST

I like structure. That is, I like it as long as everything is in place. I've operated in jobs and ministries that have been bad 'fits.' Leaving me feeling like a square peg in a round hole, those experiences left me with an orphan mentality of 'no one understands me.' Throughout the years I found out that the problem wasn't necessarily in the structure, but in my identity (though, I've worked in a lot of poor structures!). I was letting the structure define me and not Christ. Spending time at the International House of Prayer (Atlanta) helped me in my journey, but even there, the more I spent time in that structure, I didn't feel like I was called long-term to that environment. However, in the place of prayer God began to re-structure my heart (the most crucial structure). I love prayer and what God is doing in the prayer movement, but I have a titanium thread of social justice and evangelism that is a part of my identity in Christ. The lens through which I look has been shaped by Bonhoeffer, Wilberforce and St. Francis: all strong voices for justice, the poor and oppressed, and most importantly, all lived lives of strong devotion and prayer (which is sometimes overlooked).

Working at IHOP-Atlanta, and now at a church that is passionately developing a discipleship-culture, I have found that a very crucial thing in setting a culture is shared values and language. It's not that things can't be discussed, challenged or even contested along the way. Rather, when they are it's done as a process of hammering out and building stronger instead of tearing down.

Because of these common languages (IHOP: Intimacy/Bridal paradigm; 3DM: Discipleship). I'm learning how to be a better Jesus apprentice, how to be better mentored, and how to better mentor and lead. I'm learning how to not take myself so seriously, and how to enjoy others more. I'm learning that a big part of discipleship is being transparent, honest and humble, as well as believing that God wants to miraculously work through the little things as well as the big. It's walking out the Sermon on the Mount through the mundane as well as the overtly outward expressions.

Authentically living: Meditations on community part three

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 10:01:03 PST

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.” - Jesus the Christ (John 13:34-35)

It's no wonder, and is a beautiful fact, that Christianity is done in community. True, there are hermits, and those on the fringe who feel called to abandon themselves in the place of solitude and singularity of one-on-one communion with the Lord. However, I believe that is more the exception than the rule. Christianity, I believe, is meant to be lived out in community with one another because humanity is meant to be lived out with one-another. True, this complicates things. This means I must bear my humanity (good and bad) with you, as I accept you for who you are. In time, (in our walk with Christ) we will see the ugliness in each other, and in that place we must learn to see the beauty in each other and point each other towards that; because the Holy Spirit in us is always beautiful, regardless of what is being purified.

Vanier wrote in "Community and Growth":

The more a community grows and puts down roots, the more it must discover its own deep meaning and own philosophy of life, which cannot be cut off from the fundamental questions of the world and of the Church. The more it lives authentic human relationships, and the more it becomes a place to live in rather than a gathering of 'doers', the more it must find answers to the fundamental questions of human life. It must give meaning to suffering and death, to healing and to wholeness, to the place of man and woman in society and in the world, and sexuality, family and celibacy. It must be clear about the use of power, the role of authority, and about the meaning of growth to freedom and responsibility. It must have a deep sense of the place of God, prayer and religion in human existence. It must have a vision about poverty and wealth, and clarity about the relationship between love and competence (p. 112).

I'm learning that community doesn't work as an amoebic gobbly gook of no authority, relativistic truth, and mixed philosophies of how to live in community. As tempting as egalitarian community may be, I'm starting to see how it will truly fall apart without loving, relational authority, enduring foundational truth (found in Christ and the Word), and shared values of how to live together. There can be discussion on these topics, and on how they're best lived out, but there must be a strong foundation, or else the community will crumble.

Definitive Prayer: Meditations on Community Part Two

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Thu, 02 Feb 2012 09:55:30 PST

Discipleship is crucial to the life of the Church/Christianity. But crucial to discipleship is a culture of prayer. I do believe that being a "house of prayer [for all nations]" is an underlying identity of the Church. My experience with the (primarily) program driven church in the U.S. is that true discipleship is rare. I mean we have Bible studies, small groups, and meetings, but intentionally coming together for learning how to do Jesus-stuff is often not done. I've even experienced outreach efforts without intercession for those who are intended to be reached. Now, my goal isn't to complain. My goal is to point out, encourage, maybe even confess :-) We must abandon to Christ if we want to experience all He has for us individually, with one-another, and those not (or some, not yet) in the family of Faith.

"Our Father"
I am so blessed that the Lord stoops low, so low in His love, that He chooses us, redeems us, calls to us, and beyond every interaction that we have recorded (or may hope to record), He goes even further to reveal that He is "Father" above all else. Not judge, not cosmic teddy bear, not transcedental buddy-o-pal, but our intimate Father.

"Thy Kingdom Come"
"Jesus, 'Thy Kingdom Come,' not mine. And in a world where Your Kingdom has only partly come, let it draw closer today. Let it draw closer than ever. Open my eyes to see You reveal it. I want to partner with Your heart. Rabbi, teach me. Father, let Your holiness invade this world through little ol' me, and Holy Spirit purify, counsel, and lead me - not where I go naturally, but where You would take me."

"Give us this day our daily bread"
"Father, please provide. Give me eyes to see the difference between my wants and my needs. And please give me a posture of giving."

"...and forgive us...as we forgive..."
Contemplative and social-activist Thomas Merton wrote:

"Remembering that I have been a sinner, I will love You in spite of what I have been, knowing that my love is precious because it is Yours, rather than my own. Precious to You because it comes from Your own Son, but precious even more because it makes me Your son."

I have witnessed (and been a part of) religion that seems to be founded on guilt and shame. Unless the identity of a loving, kind, completely just, and completely merciful Father is the foundation of our belief, then getting to the part about sin is frightening. Unless that foundation is set, confession will be primarily fear based, and reconciliation may not genuinely happen. There are calls to repentance and there are absolutions, but even after forgiveness may be declared, shame can remain. I'm started to pray freedom in this portion of the Lord's Prayer. "Lord, forgive me where I've fallen, and free my heart to forgive others."

"...and lead us not into temptation...deliver us from evil..."

Evil is a waste of time. I mean, true, this tension of good and evil is a good tool for purification, but I'm finding that the more I intentionally live life with urgency, the more I want to run the other way from evil, because life is short. Ephesians 5 says,

Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil. Therefore do not be foolish, but understand what the Lord’s will is. Do not get drunk on wine, which leads to debauchery. Instead, be filled with the Spirit, speaking to one another with psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit. Sing and make music from your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ (vs. 15-20).

As a worship leader, I love that the Lord considers singing songs to Him is a wise use of time. ...And being filled with the Spirit, not once but again, and again, and again, and again... My prayer for deliverance from evil is not out of fear. God's grace is stronger than evil, and I know that when I do fall, He is strong enough to pick me up, but the more I experience Him, the more I want to use every opportunity for doing good. I want to continue down the path He leads, because life is short. I want to be a part of His plan - which is eternal.

Amen.

Oscar Romero: a step back

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Mon, 30 Jan 2012 19:10:16 PST

It helps, now and then, to step back and take a long view.
The kingdom is not only beyond our efforts, it is even beyond our vision.
We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God's work.
Nothing we do is complete, which is a way of saying that the kingdom always lies beyond us.
No statement says all that could be said.
No prayer fully expresses our faith.
No confession brings perfection.
No pastoral visit brings wholeness.
No program accomplishes the church's mission.
No set of goals and objectives includes everything.
It may be incomplete, but it is a beginning, a step along the way,
an opportunity for the Lord's grace to enter and do the rest.
We may never see the end results, but that is the difference between the master builder and the worker.
We are workers, not master builders; ministers, not messiahs.
We are prophets of a future not our own.
This is what we are about.
We plant the seeds that one day will grow.
We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise.
We lay foundations that will need further development.
We provide yeast that produces far beyond our capabilities.
We cannot do everything, and there is a sense of liberation in realizing that.
This enables us to do something, and to do it very well.
Amen. ~ Attributed to Oscar Romero

A Living Together Reality: Meditations on Community Part One

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 24 Jan 2012 10:38:25 PST

A few weeks ago I grabbed lunch with a friend at Red Robin. Munching on Buffalo Chicken Strips we were talking about the churches that we were serving at, and about where the Lord is leading in those place. Community is the word that came up. God has me (and some leadership of our church) parked on that, and what it looks like in discipleship. My friend then mentioned another conversation that he had where the person shared his dislike of the word community: arguing that it is a buzzword, and not found in the New Testament. While "community" is mentioned once in Acts, depending on your translation, the word 'family [of believers]' appears a lot. I'm finding that semantics aside, one of the biggest issues is sociological. Moving past our largely cold -climate culture (task oriented with social customs to close us off to others), to becoming more hot -climate (relationship oriented with social customs embracing inclusiveness of others) (Lanier, 2001). We may call it community in our culture. A more hot -climate culture may call it family. The point is that it moves past the basic protocols of our society and welcomes others into a Kingdom of inclusiveness, of being dangerous for that Kingdom (reaching out to the poor, oppressed and outcast), and we learn how to share life together. It's not just making a new category of friends to fit in a compartmentalized life, but breaking down and shattering barriers that we've set up to keep us 'safe' (or, rather, separate) from the needs of others.

Jean Vanier (1979) wrote:

A community which is just an explosion of heroism is not a true community. True community implies a way of life, a way of living and seeing reality; it implies above all fidelity in the daily round. And this is made up of simple things - getting meals, using and washing the dishes and using them again, going to meetings - as well as gift, joy and celebration; and it is made up of forgiving seventy times seventy-seven.

A community is only being created when its members accept that they are not going to achieve great things, that they are not going to be heroes, but simply live each day with new hope, like children, in wonderment as the sun rises and in thanksgiving as it sets. Community is only being created when they have recognised that the greatness of humanity lies in the acceptance of our insignificance, our human condition and our earth, and to thank God for having put in a finite body the seeds of eternity which are visible in small and daily gestures of love and forgiveness. The beauty of people is in this fidelity to the wonder of each day (p. 109).

The Lord, in His goodness, has put a hunger in me for the Body of Christ to truly be a family of Believers (or community...regardless of the word's buzzyness to some). From as early as I surrendered my life to Christ (the first time), to every surrender (mostly each day) since, 'community' has been an underlying conviction foundational to my life. I've failed at it numerous times, but Holy Spirit has been graciously persistent in bringing me back to it. I'm learning how to be a family member, and I hope that in my places of leadership within the Body, I'll be able to help establish a Kingdom culture of community/family.

Reference:
Lanier, S. A. (2001). “Foreign to Familiar: A Guide to Understanding Hot- and Cold-Climate Cultures.” Hagerstown, MD: McDougal Publishing

Vanier, J. (1979). "Community and Growth." New York: Paulist Press

Any Opportunity for the Incarnation

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Mon, 26 Dec 2011 10:33:59 PST

Today is Christmas Eve, and below I am posting a video containing one of the Christmas songs that I've written over the years. However, I use the word "Christmas" gently, lightheartedly and passionately all at once.

Gently, because yes, I know the arguments behind the calendar days on which Christmas and Easter holidays occur as having pagan roots, I know the realistic theological and historical argument that Jesus was not born on December 25th. I use it gently because I don't want to come across as one who thinks that December 25th by its very nature is a magically holy day. It is a normal day that has been made holy, by the intentional and cultural meditation on the incarnation. Some people slam Christmas trees, but people through history, St. Boniface and Martin Luther included, used them as spiritual illustrations pointing to Christ. The nativity? St. Francis wanted to people to taste, feel, and smell what it must have been like to experience that special night of Christ's birth. (My friend Ben wrote about it well on his blog) And even me, I look at the materialism that surrounds Christmas and often have a heavy heart, yet I choose to use this day as an excuse to speak of the incarnation on a day that, culturally, some are more open to hearing about it. That is reflected in my song. If it ends with presents and a tree then we've missed it, but if we use it as an opportunity to speak out when the rest of the world may have ears to hear, I say, "Yes! Merry Christmas!"

This time is lighthearted for me too, because there are warm memories attached to Christmas. Yes, I'm not calloused to peppermint mochas, or spicy mochas (thank you Caribou Coffee), decorating a tree with ornaments of years gone by, and watching silly Christmas movies. Christmas is a lighthearted time for me, because there is so much heaviness in the world (and in my brain), that sometimes I have to not take life so seriously, otherwise I miss the little joys that are waiting behind every corner.

Lastly, this time of the year is something that I'm passionate about, because the reality is: just like the argument that the seasonal celebration of day on which we celebrate Christmas has pagan roots, the reality is so do we. Christ died for us when we were not just sinners, but when we were the very enemies of Him (Romans 5). So, let's use any opportunity to meditate on the incarnation: the master plan of redemption set forth by our Creator. And let's speak out about it, let's share the awesome story of God becoming man, and relay the significance of that to a world that definitely needs life/hope/mercy.

Coffee and Resting in Restlessness

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sat, 03 Dec 2011 05:35:13 PST

Great are You, O Lord, and exceedingly worthy of praise; Your power is immense, and Your wisdom beyond reckoning. And so we men, who are a due part of your creation, long to praise You – we also carry our mortality about with us, carry the evidence of our sin and with it the proof that You thwart the proud. You arouse us so that praising You may bring us joy, because You have made us and drawn us to Yourself, and our heart is unquiet until it rests in You (Confessions of St. Augustine, Book 1, Chapter 1).

This morning about 5:30 my baby girl awoke hungry, and since the past couple of days she's been fighting a fever possibly due to a slight ear infection, my wife and I both ran to her side. After she was satiated (more or less), I decided to get up, throw a pot of coffee on, and have some time in the Lord's presence. As I meditated on Scripture (Psalm 46), I remembered Augustine's words that "our hearts are restless (unquiet) until they rest in You." Like a baby who will not be satisfied in any other way than its mother's milk, so our souls are actually designed to hunger and thrive for God. All else will fall short. "Because your love is better than life, my lips will glorify You. I will praise You as long as I live, and in Your name I will lift up my hands. I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods; with singing lips my mouth will praise You" (Psalm 63:3-5).

"Father, forgive us for looking for satisfaction in anything other than You. Let our lives put on display our hunger for You...that the world would see You in us. This Advent awaken a hunger in Your Bride, Your people, a hunger that cannot be quenched by the fleetingness of this plastic world, and release an undying desire in Her heart to proclaim You and Your love and mercy. Amen."

My Beloved: Stacking Stones Part VIII

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 29 Nov 2011 08:04:01 PST

So, the twelfth stone on top of this Joshua 4 monument is a person, and that person is my wife. The last season on life and ministry would not have been what it was, and is, without her. I've learned so much about love and courage from her.

I remember being a twenty-something mountain boy, staring up at the stars, contemplating that the starry sky, so unfathomable and huge, full of granduer, mystery, and stillness, was a similar display to the starry show that Abraham watched as G-d said, "Count them if you can...so shall your offspring be" (paraphrased Gen 15:5). And to think that (as the Rich Mullins song put it), "one star he saw had been lit for me," as well as for the person whom I would meet and marry. The seeming impossiblity that two random stars in a sea of space would somehow meet, often seemed to be wishful thinking at best. But as I followed the Lord on crazy adventures (California, Mexico, Texas, Washington, Hawaii, Tennessee, Florida, then to Georgia), I realized that I didn't need to worry. In one conversation with my friend Ted, I blurted out (in a moment of revelatory wisdom), "I don't need to look for her [my wife], she's not lost. She's right where I am, in the palm of His [God's] hand." And that is how the whole thing worked itself out. When I finally came to the end of myself (and trying to make things work my way), it's as if God said, "now that you're done, check this out." And in the wilderness of a prayer room, with all props of familiarity pulled out from under me, I noticed a beautiful voice (with a beautiful face) singing on the worship team...and getting to know her more, I fell in love with her beautiful heart.

Fast-forward three years, we moved to Arizona to work in Whiteriver, AZ, where we learned to cling to each other. The next year (2009) was a year of tears: through miscarriages and a still-birth of our baby boy. Such pain, but I learned from my wife that courage is sometimes just showing up and not giving up. As C.S. Lewis wrote, "Courage is not simply one of the virtues, but the form of every virtue at the testing point." So with my wife, I learned the persistence of hope, as we came to welcome our daughter Sarah Clare into the world.

Now we are in a new season. It is official now, since I finally finished my Josh 4 monument (sheesh, took long enough :-) The Lord is doing so much, but one thing that I expect will continue is that I'll learn more about myself, my wife, and God. During our engagement, one Scripture that my wife and I identified with was the story of Jonathan and his armor bearer (1 Samuel 14) - in that, we felt that we are both made for adventure, and we choose to stand with each other in battle. Well, one may romanticize the battlefield with glorious bravery against all odds, but the grit and tragedy is often not recognized. It is my honor, however, that as I look back on the past 5 1/2 years, the battle that I've pushed through, swung my sword through, grunted through, and cried through, I did it all with the most valiant warrior by my side. She is my bride. She is made for adventure. She is courageous. And it is my honor to be her husband.

Who Am I? : Stacking Stones Part VII

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 25 Oct 2011 20:37:13 PDT

Who am I? Sounds like a loaded question. And depending on the day you might get a different answer. Yes, I am Joel. I want to be more Jesus than me. But usually I'm me. I used to think that my 20's were all about figuring who I am. Mostly, I found out who I'm not. Sometimes it was positive, sometimes it was not. I learned that I fell short of my ideals 98% of the time, during the other 2% I was just confused. Blessedly clueless. My eleventh stone in my Josh 4 monument is not that I figured out who I am. I've given up on that one. In my efforts to serve others and love others [stay tuned for stone 12], I've learned a lot about personality types. Golden retrievers, otters, lions, introverts, extroverts, performance introverts, etc. Through it I've found what I'm like, which is giving me insight into who I am. This has helped me to learn what other people are like too, but the most important thing that it has taught me is that there is a difference between learning what a person is like and who they are. That takes time and care. I guess on top of studying societies, I've become a studier of people. An anthropologist of sorts. I have much to learn, but I'm learning to learn. The last stone is the capstone of this monument...so it's a big one.

The nature of man, the poor, and our general depravity: Stacking Stones Part VI

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Wed, 28 Sep 2011 20:08:33 PDT

I'm finally getting settled (more or less) in the northern life of MN. That is, I'm getting a routine somewhat established to make life feel less like chaos and more like we (our family) is heading in an intentional direction. Sure, already, there are many things that I'm excited about, but before I go there, I must finish stacking stones. I realize that I've only stack 9 of 12, and I haven't neglected the task, but I've been meditating on it pretty regularly.

Stone number 10 of the Arizona season of my life has been the scholarly, introspective & contemplative effort that I put into praying, learning, and understanding poverty. Finishing my degree in sociology was a large tool for this. I learned much. I've understood more, how sin not only effects the individual (me), but individuals (my neighbor), and, in effect, every social system on the planet. I understand more that poverty and inequality in social systems are really (in the ultimate root cause analysis) the result of a broken relationship with God, and broken relationships with each other. I learned that while poverty has many common symptoms, the causes vary, and commonly contain unique stories of injustice: some blatantly atrocious, and some inconspicuously devilish.

CLICK HERE for the position paper that I wrote during this time for the ministry that I worked with.

So, #10 is poverty: what I learned about it in society, in humanity, and in myself.

Whispers of sovereignty: Stacking Stones Part V

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Mon, 22 Aug 2011 17:32:07 PDT

Today I've been sitting outside quite a bit (praying, working on my computer, thinking, etc), and I decided that one 'stone' in my Josh 4 memorial is nature. Not just generalized - nature as a concept - nature, but those moments when I get to commune with God. God often speaks to me through nature...not like a 'being one with nature kind of way,' but rather, nature being a sanctuary where my heart and mind can be still, and where I can pause and experience a 'come Lord Jesus' moment (being one with my Creator). God speaks loudly to me in the quiet (which may be paradoxical when put like that), that is, He speaks powerfully in the quiet of nature. Like now, when the soil of life seems to be up-tilled, I sit and hear the wind blowing through the trees, the sound of the leaves creating soothing choruses, while I find rest as creation seems to remind me that the Creator is in control. Or like the pause that gazing at the Milky Way gives me as I breathe in the cool mountain air. It never fails to take my breath away, while it whispers the mighty power of the One Whom I follow. Sometimes it's the Lord's voice that I hear, saying: "I see your heart, I hear your voice, I love you..." In those moments it's not just about noticing the impact of the moment, but the realization that I am noticed...by the most important One: the One who made me, Who desires me, and Who has called me to lose myself in the experience of knowing Him.

So 'stone' number 9 is the revelatory moments (as small as they may have been), where God has grabbed my attention through nature, wooed my attentions and affections, and reminded me who I am and why I do what I do.

Relentless Goodness: Stacking Stones Part IV

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sat, 20 Aug 2011 11:16:28 PDT

"O God, I have tasted Thy goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want Thee; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show me Thy glory, I pray Thee, so that I may know Thee indeed. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, ‘Rise up my love, my fair one, and come away.’ Then give me grace to rise and follow Thee up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long."
— A.W. Tozer

Another experience saturated by the presence of God, and the landmark of what He's done in my life in this past season, has been the birth of my daughter Sarah Clare. Now, as I mentioned in the previous post, we often have a misconception regarding 'redemption' in the western culture. To be more specific, the redemption of God. Redemption is not making up for bad stuff by doing enough good things to compensate for the bad; rather, I am learning that God takes the most tragic circumstances and uses it, and turns it around for good. It is not a waste, but a medium in His redemptive creativity. Like a painter it is a brush stroke in the grand picture of His love and His glory - as illustrated in the lives of those He loves. I realize that from a western mindset, this runs the danger of casting the concept of a sadistic God, but this is not the case. There are things to consider: original sin, the problem of evil, and a God sovereign enough (and with a love strong enough) to give us choice and a will. In the end, Ecclesiastes 3:11 saying, "He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also, He has put eternity into man's heart, yet so that he cannot find out what God has done from the beginning to the end," summarizes the deep truth that we are so small - but have been made for something so great. Even the 'ugly' is made beautiful, and God has created us for eternity yet at the same time our perspectives are so finite that we have trouble seeing past our momentary discomforting 'ugly' situations to see the larger beautiful tapestry that is being woven. So, in essence, the stones (lessons) pulled from this season's riverbed regarding this happenstance are:

God is good (period). When tragedy strikes God is good (not in a pop-Christian culture-'God is good all the time, all the time God is good' kind of way, but in a real enduring kind of way).
When we trust Him, and abandon to Him...when He is our plan A and B...when He is the Lord Whom we look to and say "Where else could I go?" He is faithful to take the ugly, the ashes, and broken pieces, and make them beautiful.
It seems that God is very interested is giving life abundantly (resurrection), but in His wisdom lets us experience the incubators for life abundantly (Gethsemane, crucifixion, and the grave). We must not rush past the tragedy, but hope through the tragedies.

Those are the stones 6, 7 & 8 in my Josh 4 memorial. CLICK HERE for the post that chronicled this event.

Lessons on the front lines: Stacking Stones part III

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 16 Aug 2011 23:28:21 PDT

Probably the biggest stones in my memorial of this season, are related to the loss that we experienced in 2009 with the death of our baby boy Elijah. The documentation of this journey can be followed in the following posts:

An Artist and Lover of God's Take on Grief
Courage
Picking Up the Pieces
Regarding Elijah

Instead of reiterating the journey and the emotions involved, here's what I learned, and they'll be stones in this Josh 4 memorial.

It's OK to grieve, cry, and be broken. The grieving process takes...time. You don't just get over holding your lifeless baby in your arms. While people don't understand, as a father it shapes you, it changes you, makes you see life different, and if you hold onto God and your wife through the process, you commune with them both on a level that is indescribable.
It teaches you how to set boundaries. Well meaning people offered words that they intended for encouragement, some people we didn't know offered to pray without knowing our story or knowing us...and some just said some stupid things. Part of being a warrior for my family is learning how to set boundaries, be firm in interaction with others, and be assertive spiritually and emotionally. It's OK to say 'no.' Our healing came through people that we know closely 'being Jesus' to us.
Jesus really does redeem our brokenness. This is a fact and not just optimism. While I'll go into this further in the next post, the redemption is not just compensating for a broken situation, but it's making the broken piece beautiful. BLESSED are the poor, BLESSED are those who mourn (i.e. Matt 5)...as if to say, 'Blessed are the broken...' This sentiment is upside down from our society, but I'm finding it's right side up for the Kingdom of God.
Suffering is OK. Jesus told us we would have trouble, but assured us that His peace would be with us, and that He has overcome the world (Matt 16). One thing I learned in this season is that the Western Church often does not understand suffering. We come up with doctrines to try to escape suffering, resulting in some sort of distortion that implies: 'if you have strong faith, you won't have trials;' however, from what I can see, according to the Word, we won't have strong faith unless we encounter and endure trials.

So, those are stones 2, 3, 4 & 5 (out of 12). These lessons are tough ones. The ground from which I've picked up these stones is 'holy ground.' It's something that I don't talk about lightheartedly or gloss over casually. But they are lessons of the Lord's goodness, and I'm still learning them. I realize that talking about such an intense situation can be a 'downer,' but walking through this 'night,' I've witnessed that the Glory of the Lord is a much brighter light than I thought it was. It's the kind of light that pierces you, and changes you...it transforms you. It doesn't just make you a survivor, it makes you a fighter. I guess that's what hope does...it's not just wishful thinking but a transformative look toward, and fellowship with, the One who "upholds the universe by the word of His power" (Hebrews 1:3).

A Lovesick Foundation: Stacking Stones Part II

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Wed, 27 Jul 2011 13:22:06 PDT

A primary factor in our time on the Fort Apache reservation, that is monumental in memory of how the Lord has worked, is something that I learned in the quiet place (IHOP-Atlanta was instrumental in this reality). God desires me. This changes everything. Strangely enough, the sentiment that God loves me doesn’t do the same thing to my heart. As Rich Mullins once said, “I grew up hearing everyone tell me 'God loves you'. I would say big deal, God loves everybody. That don't make me special! That just proves that God ain't got no taste.” God is love, if God didn’t love me, He’d be acting contrary to Who He is right? Maybe it’s the way that our society today throws the word “love” around (seemingly carelessly), that God loving us (even perfectly) doesn't seem to be that great of a feat. But the idea that God desires me, that He likes me (so much that He plans to purge me of my sin), and is intimately involved in my life…that changes everything. It’s a whole new dimension of love: there’s outward emotion attached to it; it’s not just a theory. It makes it so my effort is put into understanding Him more, learning about Him and His love for me, and receiving that love, instead of trying to work harder to earn it. When I screw up, I don’t have to stay away out of fear and shame, but I can go back into His presence as a child, and He holds me in His loving Father arms. When I don’t spend time in the quiet place, I am not driven back to the quiet place out of guilt, but instead out of longing to be in His presence again. “O God, you are my God; earnestly I seek you; my soul thirsts for you; my flesh faints for you, as in a dry and weary land where there is no water” (Psalm 63:1).

So much has happened in our season of working on the reservation: tragedy, joys, victories, and defeats. One thing remains, however. We hunger for the living God, who, not just loves us, but desires for us to partner with His heart. This reality is what got us through our personal losses, aggravating moments, and hopes for the future. It’s a foundational stone in our Josh 4 monument. We’ll look back at these three years, not as a reluctant recollection, but as worshipful season, where we were crushed, purified, and challenged, but came out the other side more in love with God and each other.

Josh 4: Stacking Stones

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sun, 24 Jul 2011 23:10:05 PDT

When all the nation had finished passing over the Jordan, the LORD said to Joshua, "Take twelve men from the people, from each tribe a man, and command them, saying, 'Take twelve stones from here out of the midst of the Jordan, from the very place where the priests’ feet stood firmly, and bring them over with you and lay them down in the place where you lodge tonight.'" Then Joshua called the twelve men from the people of Israel, whom he had appointed, a man from each tribe. And Joshua said to them, "Pass on before the ark of the LORD your God into the midst of the Jordan, and take up each of you a stone upon his shoulder, according to the number of the tribes of the people of Israel, that this may be a sign among you. When your children ask in time to come, 'What do those stones mean to you?' then you shall tell them that the waters of the Jordan were cut off before the ark of the covenant of the LORD. When it passed over the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan were cut off. So these stones shall be to the people of Israel a memorial forever." Joshua 4:1-7

I find that little monuments in my life are powerful reminders of the Lord’s faithfulness and a reminder of who I am and called to be. My family is in a big life transition. I’ve recently taken a job with a church in the Twin Cities area of Minnesota. There is excitement and a deep gratitude to the Lord for all He’s brought us through. Just as the Lord commanded Joshua to take 12 stones out of the Jordan to build the monument, I feel that the Lord is inviting me to take the metaphorical stones out of the ‘river’ of my experience, and set them as a monument that I can look back at and say “The Lord did something great here.” To stay on theme, I’ll be focusing on twelve different defining moments all connected to our past 3 ½ years.

For those who have followed my blog during our time on the reservation, this may be review, but the Lord's really been working on/in my heart lately. Today in church we sang "It is Well with My Soul," a song that I believe I can now truly sing after these few years. I think it was Rich Mullins who once said something to the effect of: "Christianity isn't something that you do - it's something that does you." That's how it feels. I've been so blessed, but realize that the greatest blessings are those that have come out of: learning to be poor in spirit, mourning, learning (and still learning) to be meek, hungering, thirsting and aching for God and His way(s), learning mercy, welcoming the purification process instead of trying to avoid it, learning to make peace instead of having my way (still learning), and suffering. Christianity is truly peculiar. I am well aware of the nagging depravity of my human nature, but the mystery that I've experienced is this: that through brokenness, I have found myself more whole than the person I was before...

Hallelujah.

Trust, Part Four: of transcendence and immanence

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Mon, 11 Jul 2011 00:40:04 PDT

Manning wrote in Ruthless Trust (2000):

...We can no more catch a hurricane in a shrimp net or Niagara Falls in a coffee cup then we can grasp the infinity of God's reality. A one-sided focus on his Otherness reduces the Holy One to a cosmic observer, a distant outsider disengaged from the yaw and pitch of human struggle.
Immanence is not the opposite of transcendence but its correlative, immanence and transcendence are two sides of the same coin, two facets of the same divine reality. Transcendence means that God cannot be confined to the world, that he is never this rather than that, here rather than there. Immanence, on the other hand, means that God is wholly involved with us, "that he is living in all that is as its innermost mystery," that he is here in his mysterious nearness...Disregard of God's immanence deprives us of any sense of intimate belonging, while inattention to his transcendence robs God of his godliness" (p. 82).

In the swirl of the attributes of God, my contemplative mind gets lost in the transcendence of a Holy God who is so intimately passionate for His creation that it is often very uncomfortable. Uncomfortable in the sense that He does whatever it takes to capture the heart of His Bride. He stoops low. Lower than I would if I were Him...but I suppose that is one of the characteristics of His transcendence. The lavish wastefulness of His perfect love - a love that (I suppose) is lavish due to His otherness, and wasteful due to the nature of His other[ness]-love. His transcendence becoming immanent in the object of His affection by the pure recklessness of its selflessness. Philippians 2.

Reference:
Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God. NY: HarperCollins

Trust, Part Three: the waiting factor

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Thu, 23 Jun 2011 23:46:27 PDT

I know that I'm in the middle of a series on "trust," but since the topic is pretty much synonymous, I decided to include this bit on "waiting." I wrote the following article for a prayer site that I've been developing:

Waiting is something synonymous with being human, and something that has been a muse for my creativity for some time now. I actually wrote a song entitled “Waiting” that is on my CD Depravity, Grace and Reckless Abandon. The lyrics go:

This road is dusty
And it’s getting to my eyes
So that I can’t see where I’m going
Or even the time

But I’ll trust in You
Though it feels hurtin’ to me
And though I can’t see

Job, Abraham and Sarah
We could talk for hours
About wishing that Your timing
Was a little closer to ours

But I’ll toast to You
With my rusty heart
And my cup that’s full of tears

Chorus:
Lord, I’m waiting, I’m waiting
For You to save the day

For You to hold this heart (repeat)
Walking for miles through mud and rain
Looking for the sun to rise
On a field so dry, I cannot feel
It’s as if something has died

So I’ll wait for You
With my hands tied
So that I can feel the joy of Your touch

And they that wait on the Lord
Shall renew their strength
They will mount up with wings as eagles
They will run and not grow weary; they’ll walk and not faint
So teach me Lord…to wait

Lately I’ve been meditating on how waiting is God’s tool for developing character and fruit in the lives of His people.

::Coming to the end of ourselves::

It seems that (looking at Scripture) one common thread that ties every person to another is the fact that everyone waits.

Fact: no one (that I’ve met at least) likes waiting.

I’ve never once seen a person excited to go to an amusement park for the purpose of waiting in line. No, they go for the rides, the fun, maybe the food, but definitely for the pleasant memories. People tend to remember the fruit of their waiting, not the process itself. One may remember, “Oh, yeah, the line for that line was horribly long…but, the ride was awesome! It was so worth it!” We have technology so that we can get what we want, as quickly as we possibly can. Our food, our news, our communication (the internet, cell phones, etc.) – we live in a fast-food, information infused world with technology accelerating at an exponential rate. Things that make us wait are things that don’t survive the competitive market – the market for your attention.

It seems that this has affected our prayer lives. Maybe the truth of the matter is that many Christians (especially in the West) tend to live a prayer-less life because of the waiting. We want to talk to God, and hear from God, but don’t want to wait for the answer. The tendency has been to have mindsets of spiritual consumers, and God and His blessings are the commodities. The only problem is: it doesn’t seem that that is how God chooses to work. The consumer mindset seems to make us think that we inhabit crucial roles that God alone truly rules: Lord and provider.

In God’s graciousness, he is so kind to break us of our selfishness, when we yield to Him. The result? Trust, faith…joy. Frederick Buechner masterfully captures this in his book Telling the Truth: The Gospel as tragedy, comedy & fairy tale (1977)

And who are the few that hear it? They are the ones who labor and are heavy-laden like everybody else but who, unlike everybody else, know that they labor and are heavy-laden. They are the last people you might expect to hear it, themselves the bad jokes and stooges and scarecrows of the world, the tax collectors and whores and misfits. They are the poor people, the broken people, the ones who in terms of the world’s wisdom are children and madmen and fools…Rich or poor, successes or failures as the world counts it, they are the ones who are willing to believe in miracles because they know it will take a miracle to fill the empty place inside them where grace and peace belong with grace and peace. Old Sarah with her China teeth knows it will take a miracle to fill the empty place inside her where she waits for a baby that will never come, so when the angel appears and tells her a baby is coming she laughs and Abraham laughs with her because, having used up all their tears, they have nothing but laughter left. Because although what the angel says may be too good to be true, who knows? Maybe the truth of it is that it’s too good not to be true (p. 70-71).

Waiting often gets painful, lonely, and desperate, but it is a landscape for a miracle. God answers prayer, and as He does, it changes us, softens our hearts, and will redeem situations that we may have given up on.

::A call to voluntary weakness::

“We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.” (Psalm 33:20)

“I lift up my eyes to the mountains—
where does my help come from?
My help comes from the LORD,
the Maker of heaven and earth.” (Psalm 121:1-2)

Waiting is often a choice, we can choose to do it or we can try to concoct our own solutions to situations. However, if our desire is to see God move in power – the way He wants to – then our choice is already made up for us: we must wait. A quip that I would share in concerts before my song Waiting is, “When we wait until the last moment it’s called ‘procrastination,’ but when God does it it’s called ‘perfect timing,’ and I don’t think that’s fair. However, if I wanted what was fair, I’d be dead, because the wages of sin is death…so I guess I’ll wait…” Waiting goes against the fiber of a humanistic, pull-yourself-up-by-your-bootstraps society, however, it is still a tool that God uses for our transformation. Not only choosing waiting, but learning how to embrace it, is crucial for our lives – and a non-negotiable for our prayer lives. This doesn’t mean we have to necessarily enjoy the process, but we can find hope, joy, and strength in the fact that the outcome will be the Lord’s plans for us – and not our superficial solutions (which at the end of the day won’t satisfy the longings of our hearts).

Bob Sorge wrote in his book Unrelenting Prayer (2005), “Delayed answers by nature tend to cause us to lose heart. ‘Hope deferred make the heart sick’ (Proverbs 13:12). This heartsickness is a natural human response when we are waiting on God for a long time” (p. 4-5). In Psalm 130:5-6 the psalmist wrote, “I wait for the LORD, my whole being waits, and in his word I put my hope. I wait for the Lord more than watchmen wait for the morning, more than watchmen wait for the morning.” There is a certain longing in our voluntary weakness that does not go unnoticed by God. He answers, He is faithful, and He is changing us – and our situations – in the process. Our heartsickness and our tears are not ignored either, they are acts of worship as we choose to wait, put God first, and declare that He is Lord and our provider.

The LORD is good to those whose hope is in him,
to the one who seeks him;
it is good to wait quietly
for the salvation of the LORD (Lamentations 3:25-26)

Reference:
Buechner, F. (1977). Telling the Truth: The Gospel as comedy, tragedy and fairy tale. N.Y.: HarperCollins Publishers.
Sorge, B. (2005). Unrelenting Prayer. Greenwood, M.O.: Oasis House

Trust, Part Two: the scars remain

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Wed, 22 Jun 2011 10:32:47 PDT

The love of God is not a pastry - it is a meal. Or for that matter, perhaps it is the protein that makes up the food. While fame, money, self-reliance, or the many other things that we fill our lives with, may keep us going, they may substitute but cannot replace the building block for a healthy life. Sometimes western Christianity has a tendency to cast the vibe that the love of God is a garnish to an 'American Dream,' when it is so much more. Journeying beyond calorie induced metaphors, I sense more and more that the love of God is the very air that fills our lungs. Every moment is grace. Frederick Buechner wrote in his book, Wishful Thinking: a seekers abc (1973):

The grace of God means something like: Here is your life. You might never have been, but you are because the party wouldn't have been complete without you. Here is the world. Beautiful and terrible things will happen. Don't be afraid. I am with you. Nothing can ever separate us. It's for you I created the universe. I love you (p. 39).

As I walk through the seminary of life and repeat for the 34th time my class on Wilderness 101, one thing I can say is that I know God is good. I've experienced bad things, but know that God is good. The love and grace of God does not mean we won't get wounded, but that God is greater, and the redemption that He will orchestrate (if we let Him) gives beauty for ashes and joy for mourning.

Continuing Brennan Manning's Ruthless Trust (2000) today, I was hit by these sentences:

We are, each and every one of us, insignificant people whom God has called and graced to use in a significant way. In His eyes, the high-profile ministries are no more significant than those that draw little or no attention and publicity. On the last day, Jesus will look us over not for medals, diplomas, or honors, but for scars (p. 48).

I do have a sense (as Manning's words share) that my Beloved King and Lord recognizes my scars as worship:

Crying out from a cabin in the White Mountains, longing to know God more - in the midst of loneliness and an unknown future.
Moving to the East Coast with my 'life' packed into a Chevy Cavalier, not knowing anyone.
Trusting, hoping and crying after getting the call from the hospital knowing that something went wrong with my wife's pregnancy.
The drive to the mortuary to pick up my son's ashes the day of the funeral.
The list goes on, but those are big ones...

The fact that Jesus walked through these times with me is hope and grace. I am known, and in ministry, He sees my faithfulness in sharing His love, not necessarily in the outcomes that I can sometimes get so hung up on. Could it be that He pays closest attention to the things that others don't pay any attention to? Affirming a young adult working to get his GED. Praying for the hearts of Jr. Highers to be open to the Gospel. Praying for High Schoolers to make decisions for a healthy future. Or praying every day to be a better husband and father. Or the other things that shall remain in the secret place...maybe that's where the most 'successful' place is: the secret place, where it is truly just you and Jesus. Where the small acts of kindness that you show throughout the day are inside jokes, delights, and victories known only and discussed only with the Creator who slipped under the radar to die for His creation...

Reference:
Buechner, F. (1973). Wishful Thinking: a seeker's abc. NY: HarperCollins
Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God. NY: HarperCollins

Trust, Part One: the lesson we keep learning until we die

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Tue, 21 Jun 2011 10:21:00 PDT

To be grateful for the good things that happen in our lives is easy, but to be grateful for all of our lives- the good as well as the bad, the moments of joy as well as the moments of sorrow, the successes as well as the failures, the rewards as well as the rejections- that requires hard spiritual work. Still, we are only grateful people when we can say thank you to all that has brought us to the present moment. As long as we keep dividing our lives between events and people we would like to remember and those we would rather forget, we cannot claim the fullness of our beings as a gift of God to be grateful for. Let's not be afraid to look at everything that has brought us to where we are now and trust that we will soon see in it the guiding hand of a loving God (Nouwen, 1997).

One of the reoccurring reads on my bookshelf is Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God (Manning, 2000). This book was given to me by dear friend Jay the Pauperly Prince (sometimes it's 'Princely Pauper' depending on the day :-) the Christmas of 2000. Jay is a true ragamuffin like me. Every year I find myself back in this book contemplating trust, my life, and how no matter what happens in my life, the issue I return to is trust. For that reason, I've decided that trust is the lesson that we keep learning until we die: literally, and metaphorically spiritually. I do wish that it were one of those things that you just pay your dues on and move on to the next lesson, or 'level' (if the video game metaphors work for you). I've learned that no matter how good my negotiation skills get, I can't seem to convince God that I don't need anymore object lessons on the subject. However, as masochistic as it may seem at times, I am learning to enjoy this 'dance' in the wilderness. Manning writes, "Uncontaminated trust in the revelation of Jesus allows us to breathe more freely, to dance more joyfully, and to sing more gratefully about the gift of salvation" (Manning, 2000, p. 30).

I guess what I'm saying is that it's alright with me. The tragedies that we experience are ok - it hurts, but it's ok. The unknowing, blindfolded existence of following this invisible God, is ok. The result outweighs the momentary discomfort. I have a propensity to make sense of things and to be in control of my future, and realize that those two areas cannot be non-negotiables with me if I claim that Jesus is Lord. I'm learning to surrender in every sense of the word (to yield to the power of another, to give oneself up, etc.). I'm learning how to (as Manning puts it) breathe, dance, and sing, the way that I have been created to. Fortunately, living as a missionary right now, my daily life is an incubator for these lessons, and lately the incubator has been burning so hot that it's been burning out the dross (sorry for the mixed metaphor - I realize that it's slightly paradoxical, since incubators help things grow, and the process of metal purification is to destroy. *destroy impurity, but still. I'm sure you can see that it all works together...).

Finally, Manning wrote:
"To be grateful for an unanswered prayer, to give thanks in a state of interior desolation, to trust in the love of God in the face of the marvels, cruel circumstances, obscenities, and commonplaces of life is to whisper a doxology in darkness" (2000, p. 37).

"So, thank you Abba, Jesus, and Holy Spirit, for every twist and turn, stone and thorn, mountain streams and dried up river beds on this journey. I do believe that it is all worth it considering the Prize. Thank you for whispering Your sweet affections of reckless love toward me this morning. Please, in Your grace, continue to draw me close to You, teaching me to breathe more freely, to dance more joyfully, and to sing more gratefully about Your gift of salvation. Amen."

Reference:
Manning, B. (2000). Ruthless Trust: the ragamuffin's path to God. NY: HarperCollins
Nouwen, H. (1997). Bread for the Journey. San Francisco: HarperSanFrancisco

Not the end: thoughts on redemption part three

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sun, 24 Apr 2011 11:51:31 PDT

When the perishable puts on the imperishable, and the mortal puts on immortality, then shall come to pass the saying that is written:
"Death is swallowed up in victory." "O death, where is your victory?
O death, where is your sting?" 1 Corinthians 15:54-55

Yes, and I will rejoice, for I know that through your prayers and the help of the Spirit of Jesus Christ this will turn out for my deliverance, as it is my eager expectation and hope that I will not be at all ashamed, but that with full courage now as always Christ will be honored in my body, whether by life or by death. For to me to live is Christ, and to die is gain. Philippians 1:19-21

Grappling with death is one of the inevitabilities of human existence. Every person through history did it, and Jesus even did it. The two verses above are verses that are conceptually embraced by western Christians, however, there is a large disconnect when it comes living like we believe it. The persecuted church gets it, where believers (even in this moment) are being persecuted, harmed, or tortured for their faith. In living it out, they are showing us what it really means to believe those verses.

We need to live for the Kingdom that we claim we belong to. As long as we live for this kingdom and this Age, we’ll try to find ways to have all the blessings of this world and all the benefits of Heaven (i.e. Gnostic Christianity). However, Jesus was all or nothing, and He calls us to be all or nothing. I admit, that’s not a very popular thing to teach today, but, judging from the Gospels, it wasn’t a very popular thing to teach in Jesus’ day either.

This morning we stayed home from church since our 2 weeks and 6 day old daughter is getting this whole living thing worked out (breathing, sleeping, pooping, and eating). As I gave little Sarah her first rundown of the resurrection story, I thought, “Wow, what an existence.” It really is all about Jesus. Eating, breathing, sleeping, living, would be meaningless without the sacrifice and the person of Christ. The cross was the plan from the foundation of the world. Us being with the Father (in love) is the primary purpose of our existence.

Today as I held our little girl Sarah Clare, I remembered the son that we lost: Elijah. We sprinkled his ashes on a hill with three crosses, overlooking the reservation where we work. Today that is a declaration that death is not the end – it has been conquered. In that moment I realize that my heart is starting to grasp the truth of “Death where is your sting” and “to live is Christ, to die is gain.” I have a daughter on this side of Heaven, and a son on the other. There is a fellowship that my wife and I share, “a strength for today, a bright hope for tomorrow.” As a family, our living is done together, and when that day comes where we cross over onto that other shore, it means eternity together. Life means living for the Kingdom of our citizenship now, as strangers in this land (1 Peter 2:11), testifying of the Kingdom of Heaven by the way that we live now.

He has risen indeed!

I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me. Galatains 2:20

Redemption in the works: thoughts on redemption part two

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sat, 16 Apr 2011 19:28:27 PDT

Beauty for ashes, joy instead of mourning...the beauty does not make the ashes non-existent and the joy doesn't negate the tears shed. Redemption doesn't mean everything is rosy, rather, it means that the prickly thorn is a part of the rose's beauty, not an ugly deformity that must be explained away or made excuses for.

Here is the first listen to my new project Voices: the nomad chronicles, vol. 2. It is also part 2 to my song Regarding Elijah

Hungry for Redemption: thoughts on redemption part one

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Thu, 17 Mar 2011 12:23:52 PDT

“Live as if Christ died yesterday, rose this morning and is coming back tomorrow.” – Martin Luther

I was overwhelmed in my time with the Lord this morning. From thinking of the devastating events in Japan, to the tensions found in ministry, and even the annoyance of financial situations, the prayer uttered was “Jesus I need you.” From big to small - things are just tough. Will the Church step up? Will it pray? Will it fast? Will it go and give, not only aid but also rehabilitation and development? Will we merely go and do what it takes to sleep better at night, or will we do what it takes for them to sleep better at night? That’s a different story altogether. Whether them is Japan, or the suffering and poor in our midst, are we going to do what it takes to get back to "life as usual," or will we be changed? My friend Lisa wrote:

“Complexity. It's hard to be pithy enough. Suffice it to say, I'll wear red for Japan. I believe in visible tokens for awareness, but our response to this must go beyond symbolism. We feel impotent now. But there will be demand for our financial and physical aid for years to come. Will we answer?

Are we still answering, for Haiti?... Chile? New Orleans? Are we still answering, for poverty? Jails? Illness?”

Japan is not going to get back to business as usual. Japan will forever be changed. The question is will we? Will we move beyond pity to compassion? Compassion is dangerous because it requires suffering with someone else. It means no more business as usual.

Frederick Buechner wrote, "Compassion is sometimes the fatal capacity for feeling what it is like to live inside somebody else's skin. It is the knowledge that there can never really be any peace and joy for me until there is peace and joy finally for you too” (1973).

I love redemption stories, and I’m not the only one. From the Christmas Carol to Les Miserables, from Comedy to Action genres, from Paramount to Disney, everyone loves the feeling of redemption. As a Christian I believe that the hunger for redemption runs through my veins. Believing that beauty can come from ashes, healing for others through my brokenness, and hope can somehow break through hopelessness like the sun through storm clouds. However, in light of following Christ, I don’t believe redemption can come in its fullness without incarnation. Whether it’s Christ on the cross, or His follower(s) on the cross (metaphorical or not), it’s on broken wings that redemption must fly, otherwise it’s not redemption. You can’t rescue something that doesn’t need rescuing, but not everything that needs rescuing is rescued, and that’s the point that I think needs to convict us.

So back to the beginning. I want to live in the heart posture that Christ died yesterday, rose this morning and is coming back tomorrow. My own need for rescuing is daily apparent, but if it stops there – I don’t think that is what being redeemed looks like. Being redeemed, I believe, should make us hunger and thirst to be a part of the rescuing effort. It’s the overflow of a redeemed heart and a redeemed life. So what am I doing? My hands feel so tied and insignificant in light of this major disaster. But I’ll intercede for the people there, and I’ll look for a way to be a part. The here and now requires me to step-it-up, however, to those in need that I can touch. No more “business as usual.” I believe that Christ is coming back soon, so that means that every event – everyday should push us toward the urgency that this life is short and we are one moment closer to seeing Christ.

Reference:

Buechner, F. (1973). Wishful Thinking: A seeker’s ABC. NY: HarperCollins Publishers.

Learning how to serve like Jesus and not an elephant

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Mon, 21 Feb 2011 22:14:21 PST

I just posted a new article to the Third Floor Ministries' "Ministering Mercy" section. It reads:

I’m learning how to serve. I believe the western church needs to learn how to serve. As the ministry that we work for is getting ready for summer work teams to come out, I am helping to prepare training materials for hosting those groups. As I reminisce of experiences of different groups, I have to admit, some memories make my stomach turn. One short-term mission group that was in Seattle after spending time on the Yakima reservation was approached by a homeless man begging for money, and one of the leaders grilled him in a way that really tore at his dignity. Or there was a group that came to the rez and one of the leaders was quite opinionated on what he thought was the “problem” of the conditions found on the rez, he pushed his own agenda, and was disappointed that efforts were not taken promote a study that he brought on the trip. He didn’t know our community at all and continually compared his trip to the rez to other short-term mission trips that he had done in the past (i.e. Mexico). The list goes on, but there were amazing groups that truly came with servant’s hearts, learning about the culture, and doing whatever was needed – not merely just doing what they thought might be needed. The difference? Meekness and humility. While all groups might have had good intentions, the ones that bolstered the effectiveness of our ministry the most were the ones who held their own agendas loosely, listened instead of talked, came with a student’s heart instead of insisting on playing teacher, and were willing to be a servant.

In a remarkable book (and good training tool) entitled When Helping Hurts: How to alleviate poverty without hurting the poor…and yourself (2009), author Steve Corbett shares a story that missions expert Miriam Adeney was told by an African Christian friend.

Elephant and Mouse were best friends. One day Elephant said, “Mouse, let’s have a party!” Animals gathered from far and near. They ate. They drank. They sang. And they danced. And nobody celebrated more and danced harder than Elephant. After the party was over, Elephant exclaimed, “Mouse, did you ever go to a better party? What a blast!” But Mouse did not answer. “Mouse, where are you?” Elephant called. He looked around for his friend, and then shrank back in horror. There at Elephant’s feet lay Mouse. His little body was ground into the dirt. He had been smashed by the big feet of his exuberant friend, Elephant. “Sometimes, that is what it is like to do mission with you Americans,” the African storyteller commented. “ It is like dancing with an Elephant” (p. 161-162).

There are times in the past when I admit that I have been Elephant, and I pray that in spite of my ignorant enthusiasm (and misguided piety) that the Lord worked healing for my missteps. As a full-time missionary in Native America I have also often felt like Mouse, where groups came to give without finding out what was needed. I have unfortunately seen the Gospel presented in ethnocentric and egocentric ways, leaving our ministry more drained than encouraged when they left.

My point? Let’s serve like Jesus (Philippians 2:1-11). Let’s walk out the Sermon on the Mount. Though we may mess up a lot, if we surrender ourselves to Christ and to the place of prayer, I believe we’ll be amazed by how much we get right (through the Spirit at work in us). As Corbett puts it, let’s stay away from the “go-help-and-save-them” message and use a “go-as-a-learner” message (p. 176). I believe this is the attitude for every day and our interactions with our immediate societies (not just in missions). In essence: the world doesn’t need me – it needs Jesus. If we want to see Jesus stuff happen in and through our lives, I believe we need to know and understand the reality of the Apostle Paul’s words, “I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. And the life I now live in the flesh I live by faith in the Son of God, who loved me and gave himself for me” (Galatians 2:20). Let’s abandon ourselves to Christ.

Reference:
Corbett, S. & Fikkert, B. (2009). When helping hurts: How to alleviate poverty without hurting the poor...and yourself. Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers.

Life together: telling it like it is

noreply@blogger.com (Joel A. Bidderman) — Sun, 02 Jan 2011 11:47:52 PST

As I was finishing up my sociology degree, I started to compile a number of books that I wanted to read as 'fun.' However, most of the books that I compiled were books that I've read before. One of these dusty collections of awe-inspiring devotion to Christ were the works of Dietrich Bonhoeffer. I have, time and time again, read The Cost of Discipleship, but this time around with new passion to understand him from the stance of his significance to society (including the society of the Church), I began to delve into his thought starting with his work on community: Life Together (1954). As I slowly gnawed on this five chapter work, I started to get challenged and encouraged as a Christian who really wants to do 'Jesus stuff.' Knowing that Bonhoeffer's writings were more than ideals --but convictions-- in the way that he lived his life, I started to realistically started to be challenged in what I think Christian community should look like. Definitely not like the world! Pragmaticism is the crisis that the western Church (at least) often has to shake off. To be inclined toward the poor, the weak, and the oppressed is something that the western Church (as a whole) doesn't quite 'get' - however, God's working on us :-) Through His mercy and through our willingness to pray and pursue Him.

This is the gem that I was hit with in his concluding chapter "Confession and Communion,"

The pious fellowship permits no one to be a sinner. So everybody must conceal his sin from himself and from the fellowship. We dare not be sinners. Many Christians are unthinkably horrified when a real sinner is suddenly discovered among the righteous. So we remain alone with our sin, living in lies and hypocrisy. The fact is that we are sinners!

But it is the grace of the Gospel, which is so hard for the pious to understand, that it confronts us with the truth and says: You are a sinner, a great, desperate sinner; now come, as the sinner that you are, to God who loves you. He wants you as you are; He does not want anything from you, a sacrifice, a work; He wants you alone. "My son, give my thine heart" (Prov. 23:26). God has come to your to save the sinner. Be glad! (1954, p. 110-111)

I believe it's the truth that Bonhoeffer writes. The truth is that when we brush off the insecure piety that so easily ensnares, let God purify, and embrace the vulnerability of a loving community, the dam breaks on the river of blessings and experiences that God wants to drench us in (if not drown us in - Gal. 2:20). (I realize finding that loving community is often a challenge, but they are out there! -- Bonhoeffer landscapes loving community in the rest of the book)

So my journey has begun in excavating Bonhoeffer. His challenges to his generation are equally (I believe) applicable to us today.

Reference:
Bonhoeffer, D. (1954). Life Together. New York: Harper & Row.