"I am the Good Shepherd" (John 10): Learning From the First Shepherd

When Jesus declared Himself the Good Shepherd, Jesus was placing Himself in a long tradition of shepherds going back to the very first chapters of Genesis. Adam and Eve, the first heroes(?) of the Old Testament, had a couple children. Two of them were Cain and Abel. Cain was the first farmer, Abel the first shepherd. Cain also had some issues with anger and bitterness, especially since he believed that God loved Abel more than him. After a sacrifice goes particularly badly, God confronts Cain about it, telling Cain that sin was crouching at his doorstep. There would be a struggle very soon about who would be in control of Cain's life. The struggle, like the sacrifice, goes badly. Cain takes a walk with his brother and kills him in the field. The blood of Cain's rebellion stained the ground and cried out to God for justice. Cain became a wanderer on the earth, rejected.

So what do we learn from the first shepherd?

We learn what it means to lay down one's life. Just as Abel laid down his life, so Christ promised in John 10 to lay down His life. We find a tremendous similarity between the life of Abel and the life of Jesus. Both of them found themselves on the receiving end of the struggle with sin. Cain's inability to handle the sin in his life cost Abel his life. Humanity's inability to handle our systemic and personal sin resulted in the death of Jesus (from a human perspective).

In the story of Cain and Abel, the cost of the murder was separation. In the story of Jesus, it is precisely the death of Jesus that leads to reconciliation with God (as confusing as it might seem). That's why we sing songs that rejoice in the cross. That's why the cross is the symbol of Christians everywhere. Humanity's darkest hour was indeed right before the dawn of Easter- new life and resurrection for all who believe in Christ. Good news, indeed!

"Jesus is the Gate for the Sheep" (John 10): Life to the Full

"I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full," is one of Jesus' most famous quotations. Another way of wording that quote is having "abundant life." So what is an abundant life? Before reading further, take thirty seconds and imagine what "life to the full" means for you.




Honest confession: Mine looks like a Travel Channel special. I'm snorkeling (which I have done), kiteboarding (which I have never done), skydiving (which I have never done) and overall living on a yacht. My abundant life is even bigger than the Travel Channel-esque lifestyle I am living. I am stress free. I'm not even wearing shoes in my abundant life vision, because I'm not even walking on harsh surfaces. My life is a complete epitome of comfort. My imagination runs wild with what I would do if I could live abundantly. My imagination, dare I say, is a bit rebellious. This verse unlocks for myself and for others (I imagine) a vision of our future soaked in comfort and convenience. This, unfortunately, is not what Jesus seems to mean by "life to the full." And if we truly examine ourselves, we probably know that too.

Jesus is the model for an abundant life. Jesus lived life to the full. So how did Jesus live?

1) Jesus lived in constant connection with the Father. John 10:30, just a few verses after this conversation, Jesus says "I and the Father are One." Jesus wasn't simply giving His status as God, although the people certainly understood Him saying that. Jesus also talked about an experienced reality of His connection with God.

2) Jesus lived simply. Jesus was never concerned about His home, because He mostly didn't live in His own. Jesus drew a line in the sand regarding creature comforts and Mammon.

3) Jesus served others. Jesus exhausted Himself constantly helping other people. I imagine Jesus slept well every night, even sleeping through storms, because He gave Himself to His mission. He went back to solitary time with the Father because He needed it.

This vision of living to the full competes with my care-free fantasy, but I tend to think that Jesus' way is going to end up more fulfilling in the end.

"I am the Gate for the Sheep" (John 10): Power, control and spiritual thievery

If you read a hundred articles about sin, you will likely find at least 110 definitions of sin. It's a sickness, brokenness, disobedience, pride, law-breaking, or any combination of the above (and more). Knowing this, I am not going to lay out a comprehensive definition of sinfulness, but give a possible perspective that fits in with the passage here.

Sin is ultimately taking and abusing power. In the Garden of Eden, the tree of the knowledge of good and evil was not an arbitrary tree which God just decided to make off-limits (as I have heard). The tree was the step to godhood. In the modern world, we repeat the phrase "Knowledge is power." And it was. Even God said in Genesis 3:22 that eating from the tree had made the humans closer to gods than their original design. The tree was about power and control- the ability to decide for ourselves what was good and what was evil, the power to shape the world in our image, the power to control one another.

That impulse toward control is at the root of just about every sinful act. I would challenge you to find a sinful behavior that is not about taking undue power and control.

Jesus, in John 10, is warning the Jewish people about the Pharisees, who regularly used matters of faith to control others. The Gospels are littered with Pharisaical attacks on Jesus in order to control Him and His message. He was demonized (literally called an agent of the devil), gossiped about, discredited and ultimately, killed. The powers that be, in an attempt to control, put Jesus to the cross in order to equate the name of Christ with shame.

Naturally, this did not work. Colossians 2:15 tells us that, in the cross, Jesus triumphed over the powers and authorities. Paul even tells the Colossian church that Jesus made a "public spectacle" of them, just as they tried to make a public spectacle of Him.

Sadly, the resurrection has not ended the practice of spiritual thievery through control and manipulation. Paul regularly reminds the Church of her liberty, even telling us that the mark of the Spirit's presence is freedom (2 Corinthians 3:17). And yet there remains a pattern of control that exists within the Church. A symptom is a laundry list of what you can and cannot do that goes well beyond the Scriptural witness. A symptom is a higher concern with the image of the Church than the mission Christ gave us.

What Jesus offers is different- a full and abundant life (John 10:10). The symptoms of this life are many: enthusiastic passion towards God's mission, ability to dialogue, a life of growth and transformation, healthy relationships and the ability to "let go" when needed. I hope that for my life, and for the life of Christ's Church.

"I am the Gate for the Sheep" (John 10): Poor Pharisees

Those Pharisees just can't seem to catch a break. Not only do the Pharisees seem to get a raw deal in the Gospels and Acts, but their name has been associated to everything from legalism, hypocrisy and general religious villainy. But were the Pharisees so bad? Let's take a look at this group.

The Pharisees were religion for the common person. Far removed from the privilege and power of the Saduccees, who controlled the Temple and cultivated a very close relationship with the Roman power system, the Pharisees had no earthly power outside of the synagogue. And so rather than try to ally with the Sadducees, the Pharisees simply brought the faith to every day life. The Pharisees believed in reading the entire Bible (then the Old Testament), as opposed to the Sadducees which only read the books of Moses, ignoring those books that talked about Temple corruption. The Pharisees believed in miracles, the supernatural and the resurrection of the dead. The Sadducees, however, believed in none of those things. To them, God was pretty much done working. The Pharisees held a high standard on morality and believed that obedience to God was important. Many of us also hold that obedience to God is pretty important. In other words, the Pharisees represented the most faithful in Judaism at the time of Jesus... at least on paper.

Where the Pharisees went wrong is where so many "religious folk" go wrong today. You can have all the right doctrines and beliefs, even appeal to right living and deny a vicious, power-hungry hierarchy. You can read your Bible every day, pray even more than the Bible recommends, give a precise offering of 10% of everything you own, but still be missing something. In John 10, Jesus tells the Pharisee that sheep run away from a stranger's voice. The very next sentence describes the Pharisees as "not getting it." They are a stranger to God.

The symptom of being estranged from God is one's capacity or incapacity for love. John 10 comes on the heels of a man being thrown out of the synagogue for being healed on the Sabbath. A cold lack of empathy and love turns the celebration of a dramatic healing into a trial and banishment.

The scary thing is that if it can happen to the Pharisees, it can happen to anyone. So let us together take our love temperature, that our capacity to love and understand one another might grow into the One who truly understands and loves- Jesus Christ.

"I am the Gate for the Sheep" (John 10): Going Where Jesus Has Gone

Where does Jesus go? In John 10, we get the promise (by way of analogy) that Jesus will lead us where we need to go. So an important question becomes... Where is Jesus going? Where has Jesus gone?

Ultimately, we know that the eternal Kingdom is that destination. Jesus has already gone ahead and made a place for us (John 14). But is that it? Do we just skip ahead to that part?

It doesn't seem so.

The shepherd daily leads the sheep out into the pasture. So where does Jesus lead us daily?

The answer is mission. Just as I mentioned yesterday, we were not meant for the pen- we were meant for the pasture. What I want to expand on today is that this is the road of Jesus. Jesus' road took Him to uncomfortable places. Just in John 9, Jesus is caught hanging out with and even defending a man forced out of the synagogue. Jesus finds company with the kinds of people that the right kinds of people didn't like. It got to the point where Jesus attended enough of the wrong kinds of parties that people just called Him a party animal (Luke 7:34).

It doesn't end with the Gospels, though. Hebrews 13:12-14 describes following Jesus like this: "The high priest carries the blood of animals into the Most Holy Place as a sin offering, but the bodies are burned outside the camp. And so Jesus also suffered outside the city gate to make the people holy through his own blood. Let us, then, go to him outside the camp, bearing the disgrace he bore. For here we do not have an enduring city, but we are looking for the city that is to come." Nobody invited me to follow Jesus by saying "let's bear disgrace together." But that's what we are called to do. The belief that Jesus has gone ahead of us and prepared a new place for us means that our fascination with status and the comforts of our current cities should end.

God's mission beyond the margins of comfort, therefore, is not an optional extra of faith for the super-saint. It is a core practice of Christianity, every bit as important as prayer and Scripture reading. For to engage in the mission of Christ is a central definition of what it means to be a follower of Jesus.

"I am the Gate for the Sheep" (John 10): Not meant for the pen

In John 10, Jesus warns against the power of false teachers, describing them as thieves who break into the sheep pen. We are called into a reflective life of discernment to hear the voice of our Shepherd and to avoid the lies of the thieves. But how do we go about doing that?

One response has been to limit the voices we hear. And so we only watch Christian movies, only read Christian books, only listen to Christian music, only talk to other Christians and, in terms of the sheep analogy, never leave the pen. We stay where it is safe. And because the Church is becoming increasingly diverse, we further sub-divide based on circles of favorite authors. In other words, we stick to our corner of the pen.

What would happen if you had a flock of sheep that never left the pen? I can tell you from experience, not from sheep, but from my guinea pig. Kosher, the aforementioned guinea pig, rarely leaves his cage (maybe an hour at a time). And I have to clean his cage out every week because, frankly, it stinks. The same thing would happen on a grand scale in a sheep pen. Eventually the environment would become toxic and unliveable for the sheep. Plus, it would really stink.

Sheep are not meant for the pen- they are meant for the pasture. Christians are not meant for the artificial pens we create, but we are meant to be engaging our world. It is what we were created for. When we think of Church as a weekly gathering to hear stuff we already believe and sing songs we already know, we are favoring the pen. When we think of Church as a body of people planted in a particular place for the mission of God, with weekly gatherings to encourage and empower us for that mission, we are sheep freed from the pen and doing what we are supposed to do.

Listening for the voice of the Shepherd is hardly about cloistering ourselves off from the world. Listening for the voice of the Shepherd is very much about listening for ways that God is already at work in us and in the world, and ultimately an invitation to join in.

"Jesus the Light of the World" (John 8): High and Lifted Up

We have all seen it. The scene is simple- a basketball game. The home team is down by two points, but their best 3-point shooter is in play. They pass the ball right to the shooter, who has one-tenth of a second to pivot and fire the best shot possible. And while the ball is in the air, the crowd is already on their feet. Nothing but net, the home team wins by one point. I had the privilege of watching my brother-in-law be the shooter who saved the game. And I can tell you that he was lifted up. Carried by his team and scores of loyal Holland High fans, his feet literally didn't hit the ground for minutes. He was lifted. Being lifted up by your team is a sign of victory, and it's an amazing one. It's a rush that goes beyond the thrill of winning- it's the thrill of being the hero.

In John 8:28, Jesus makes the claim that He will be lifted up. For the original crowd, they would have thought that Jesus was waiting to be lifted like a hero. But the readers of John, who lived 35-40 years (at least) after the crucifixion, would have known that Jesus being lifted up was not about being a celebrated hero. Jesus was lifted up as a despised criminal.

So what does being lifted up have to do with being the light of the world?

I look to a lighthouse or an air traffic control tower for inspiration here. Those towers are high so that people can see the light from an incredible distance. A lighthouse can guide a ship in from miles away, and an air traffic control tower guides airplanes that we can hardly see into safety. In the same way, Jesus being lifted on the cross allowed the world to see what God was willing to go through for us. Jesus picks up on this theme in John 12:32, "When I am lifted up from the earth, [I] will draw all men to myself." John explains that this is a prediction of Christ's death and the manner of His death.

The crucifixion is not the dirty little scandal of Christianity, it is rightly the center of our faith. Our faith comes to us in cross form. The death and resurrection of Jesus, far from being the shameful experience the Romans intended, is the shining achievement of God. It is how our hero was heroic.

"Jesus is the Light of the World" (John 8): The real "I am" statement

Our sermons for the next few weeks are focused on the I AM statments of John. I am the light of the world is the main "I AM" statement of this week, but there is another I am statement in this passage.

John 8:24 concludes with Jesus simply saying "If you do not believe that I am he, then you will die in your sins." And to us English readers, that is a simple statement. However, looking more closely at the Greek, the statement blows up a little bit. The Greek for "I am he" is ego eimi, literally meaning "I am." But eimi means "I am," adding ego (meaning "I") only intensifies the statement. When Jesus is dropping this construction, He is bringing us right back to "I AM who I AM" from Exodus 3. Jesus is laying down the importance of His divinity, and how important His divinity is to salvation.

If you want more proof, read down to John 8:58, when Jesus says "Before Abraham was, I am." The reaction from the Jews is very telling- they pick up stones and get ready to execute Jesus for blasphemy. They rightly deduce that Jesus is equating Himself with God.

So what is the effect of Jesus' divinity? How does that impact our spirituality?

It certainly impacts our prayers- we pray to Jesus. After all, He is the King of the universe, so I can't imagine asking anyone better to pray to. We turn to Jesus with our salvation, a help in times of trouble, and to pray for justice and peace on the earth. Jesus' divinity is really important to our spiritual lives- what does it mean to you?

"Jesus is the Light of the World" (John 8): Can I Get a Witness?

Imagine a world in which you could find dozens of people who claimed to speak for God. Imagine that these people had tremendous followings and exerted their influence on the political process around them. Imagine that these people had nefarious motives for power, prestige and glory.

Okay, maybe you don't have to overtax your imagination with this one, because we live in such a world today. Religious leaders of every stripe can command, through the internet and other media, a legion of followers from a basement studio. Youtube, Twitter and Facebook have only democratized this kind of power. In other words, you no longer have to be a billionaire to afford the kind of coverage a viral video can give you for free. Even as I write this, a viral video called "I hate religion, but love Jesus" has generated a following for a slam poet dedicated to Christ.

The Pharisees lived in such a world. Since 400 years had passed without revelation from God (in Scripture form), so-called prophets were rising up all the time. Some would lead the people into armed conflict, others radical departure from society, and others greater fidelity to King Herod and his Roman handlers. The Pharisees were a more careful lot. If you were going to be a teacher who claimed authority, you had to claim it with a background. Drawing on the justice codes of the Law, claims to authority had to be met with witnesses.

Good thing, right? 1 John tells us to test the spirits and to exercise discernment when someone claims to come from God. Jesus warns the disciples over and over again to watch for false messiahs. So why does it seem that Jesus is so hard on the Pharisees for doing what He would tell His disciples to do?

Jesus lays out for the Pharisees what would bear witness to His words. That includes being lifted up (on a cross) and going away (ascension). In those two moments, the Pharisees will witness that Jesus' witness is the Father. The resurrection and the ascension of Jesus Christ, among many other things, are God's stamp of approval on the words and work of Jesus Christ. But before then, the book of John lays out plenty of signs and wonders that Jesus shows to prove His connection to God.

The Pharisees, however, refuse to see these acts. They turn their legitimate need for discernment into a basis of false confidence. They turn their heritage of faith into an excuse to exclude and disobey. Tragically, this conversation turns ugly in verses 31-58. It ends with Jesus claiming to be God ("Before Abraham was, I AM") and the Jews attempting to stone Him. Jesus was indeed a divisive figure.

But what about today? Today we have the witness of the New Testament and of God's continuing work in the world. The question I ask myself is, will I look to the Light of the World to see it, or will I close my eyes to it like the Pharisees?

"Jesus is the Light of the World" (John 8): No unncessary details

John 8:12-30 places Jesus in the middle of a conversation about God, light and getting on the right track toward God. And for the most part, we are not told too many details about Jesus' environment. But smack dab in the middle of the conversation, John 8:20 tells us that Jesus happens to be standing in the Temple where the offerings are collected. If read carefully, this verse brings the passage into a brand new light.

There is no place in the Temple called "The Offering Place." That place is called the sanctuary, and is about a lot more than giving offerings. It is the place where prayers are symbolized by incense, sacrifices are made and blessings given. And in a world where God has a physical residence, the sanctuary is the closest proximity to God most people would ever get. It was also a place of teaching and learning, as Jesus is doing here.

But in John, this place is called the place where offerings are collected, by far the least meaningful element of that spot in the Temple. Why would John say this?

Let's first consider John in a greater context than the disciples and the story. Let's think about the original readers of John. John was written, at the earliest, in the 70's AD. This is right on the heels of the Roman invasion of Jerusalem, in which the Temple was razed to the ground and Judaism (as it had been practiced for a thousand years) was over. What a traumatic moment! Even the Christians, many of whom worshiped in Jerusalem at the Temple, experienced some significant loss when the Temple was torn down.

John, however, designates that encountering God does not primarily take place at the Temple anymore. It takes place at the feet of Jesus. The Temple in Jerusalem was considered by many to be the light of the world. Jesus calls Himself the light of the world. And so now the encounter with God takes place wherever Jesus is.

By the Holy Spirit, you and I are connected to Christ at all times. This is why we can be described as a Temple of the Holy Spirit. And so the opportunity is always there is to connect, to grow, and to live in the light of the world.

"Jesus the Bread of Life" (John 6): What I learned from feasting

One of my recent "growth areas" has been in the area of joy. Joy is a tricky thing- you cannot teach joy, or command joy. There is no toggle switch for joy that you can force. And so growing in my capacity to experience joy requires a different kind of learning... the kind of learning you can only do with food.

Feasting is a special form of eating. I eat most of my lunches on my own, and it's a lazy process involving a microwave and leftovers. However, sometimes I get the opportunity to feast. Feasting involves two different aspects- people and carefully prepared food. Feasting is not about expensive food or massive quantity of food, it's about food that's prepared and food that's shared.

The key skill of feasting is the skill of savoring. There is a gulf of difference between chowing through food and savoring food. Most of the time, I chow down. But occasionally, I enjoy every bite.

Savoring is the skill we need to experience joy. Joy is a reflective skill. Joy is a lot more about how we encounter events of our lives than the events themselves. Stressful situations, at least many of them, are a part of life that we can't control. And we may not feel joy in the moment. We may not be able to feel joy in the moment. Joy comes when we savor even the difficult times of our lives and see the growth that took place, or the relationships deepened or the results. Sometimes even the nastiest fight, if savored properly, can produce the joy of moving past that fight and into greater understanding.

Some things are too heinous to ever be savored. Some things are so horrible that we can only savor that we survived them. And these things are real. They are also rare.

Written on the board in my office, I have my sense of purpose "I exist to have great conversations with people." I also have two questions: "What great conversations have I had today?" and "Did I receive them with joy?" Great conversations are not always energizing. Sometimes they are difficult and don't feel fruitful in the moment. However, it is God who creates the fruit, not me, and so I am trying to learn to savor even the most difficult moments to see God in the midst.

And that is what I learned from feasting.

"Jesus the Bread of Life" (John 6): What I have learned from fasting

In the sermon on the mount (Matthew 5-7), Jesus describes a few practices that are assumed. One is prayer ("When you pray..." Matthew 6:5), one is giving ("When you give to the needy..." Matthew 6:2) and the last is fasting ("When you fast..." Matthew 6:16). And so I try to keep up on all of those practices, to one extent or another.

Fasting is a new one for me. And it's not much fun. You see, I love food. I celebrate food. I have my favorite meals wherever I go. I get pretty specific food cravings on a regular basis. Sadly, fresh vegetables and other healthy foods are rarely among my cravings. Occasionally, though, I crave a salad. But that's beside the point. The physical act of restricting my access to food is ridiculous. My body is occasionally ready to revolt by 11:00 AM. With water, I am able to tame my body long enough to break my fast after 24 hours.

Hopefully, unless you are "in the know," you can't tell the days I am fasting. But I can feel a difference. By the end of my fast, my mind is pretty singularly-focused: I want a big meal. I want a burger. I want fries. I want a pizza (not a slice, the whole thing). Exercise only makes matters worse, because I run out of steam sooner and my physical strength, which I find pride in, falls apart. It is frustrating to fast sometimes. I bet I'm convincing you that this is a great practice, right?

But here's the deal. Jesus did not call us into a life that will always feel comfortable. Sometimes you will hunger because there is nothing around you, and sometimes you hunger because you choose to put yourself in a situation where you are completely dependent on God. You can't eat your feelings, or comfort that sneaky suspicion that you are created for something more by eating something more. No, God gets quick access into your heart and the mechanisms we use to run away are put aside for the moment. Needless to say, when I fast, I appreciate Jesus, the bread of life.

I would invite you to join me in fasting from food, technology, alcohol, TV, or whatever keeps you distracted from God.

"Jesus the Bread of Life" (John 6): Eating your way in

It is no surprise to a food-lover, like myself, that God's intended future for the world has a lot to do with food. Isaiah has several images of a banquet prepared by God, Revelation 19 describes the victory over the power of death as a wedding feast, and Jesus often uses images of food for the Kingdom. We eat our way into the Kingdom, that's for sure.

In the Old Testament, we ate our way into covenant relationship with God. The sacrificial system was about more than killing things; it was about the act of eating together, even eating with God. This is evidenced by the first meeting of God with the people, which was a major feast on the top of Mount Sinai. Whenever you broke covenant, you ate with God in order to make it right. Imagine if you took everyone with whom you had a conflict out to dinner to mend it. I imagine my conflicts would become less important and the possibility of reconciliation would become pretty big.

In the New Testament, we are introduced to a new meal of the community- the Lord's Supper. It was a regular part of the first meeting of Christians (Acts 2) and led to a major teaching in 1 Corinthians. Paul called these dinners "love feasts," giving us the image of community and plenty. That is, everyone should have been able to eat their fill at these meals. Plenty of food hearkens us back to John 6, where Jesus fed the masses and everyone had enough. In the Lord's Supper, we acknowledge in Jesus Christ- his life, death and resurrection, we indeed have enough.

So grab a snack and consider the God in whom we have enough, and let's eat our way into the Kingdom today.

"Jesus the Bread of Life" (John 6): Eating Your Way In, Eating Your Way Out

I had an Old Testament professor who proclaimed, "You can eat your way into Christianity, and you can eat your way out of Christianity." As my appreciation for the Bible has grown, that statement makes more and more sense.

Here is what eating looks like to me on most days... a mad dash to put as many calories into my system as possible before I run out of food or get uncomfortably full. Stuffing myself used to be a daily occurrence. Then I was challenged to slow down my consumption. I found eating to be far more natural. I would take breaks in my eating, and found I had to actually enjoy my environment. I had to talk. Most of the time, when I eat, I talk before and after the meal. But during the meal, I do not talk. I eat. This had to change. Controlling my eating became one of the most important disciplines of my daily life.

Philippians 3 warns us of those whose god is their stomachs. I doubt that Paul is warning us of morbid obesity, but is drawing an important analogy from our stomachs. When our stomachs crave something, we can destroy ourselves trying to fill that craving. Stomach cravings are undeniable, strong, and are usually met with indulgence. And a simple look around at US consumerism reveals a god of the stomach. Paradise is indulgence. Check out the past 35 years of advertising here. Paradise is related directly to consumption.

I compare that to an Eastern view of paradise. Immortality, in many Far Eastern traditions (like Taoism), is marked by thriving on less. Stories of immortals include drinking the dew from a leaf and being satisfied from it. Biblical paradise seems to be neither over-indulgence nor asceticism. It seems to be satisfaction in Christ.

John 6 describes a warning from Jesus to avoid the bread which does not satisfy. These are ways in which we eat our way out of faith. What is the unsatisfactory food in your life?

Top Five of 2011: Leadership

What is good leadership? I will get to that question in a moment, but I want to begin with my bias. I came into 2011 with a pretty severe bias about leadership. I was anti-cultural in my bias, because I was certain that Christians were supposed to learn leadership from mystics, musicians and monks, not politics or economy. I confess that bias because I was sinfully proud to ignore the voices of people who have some great things to say about leadership. I now hope that I am learning to appreciate all of the voices of leadership around me, finding great joy in reading Jesuit monks and CEOs (my current leadership read is "Onward" by Starbucks ceo Howard Schultz). What I have found is that great leaders pop up in every field of human endeavor, and so one must look to every endeavor to learn. So what did I learn about good leadership this year?

Great leaders are primarily learners, I think. A friend once told me that one characteristic united all of the pastors he knew- they were all curious about everything. I believe that I share this trait with the other pastors in his life. Leaders must be learners, because organizations (especially churches) can get paralyzed if the leaders aren't learning new things and reflecting on their experiences. That is why I was so delighted when our consistory committed to spiritual formation every other meeting. Our leaders want to learn, our leaders want to grow.

We also launched into a couple-year process of the Ridder Leadership Initiative with a small group of people. And for a year, we focused on personal transformation and the practices of a disciple of Jesus. After all, great leaders are primarily learners, and learner is just another word for disciple. This group is bearing fruit in the lives of the participants, and 2012 will see some of that fruit born in our congregational life as well. It's all very exciting.

I pray that 2012 will be a year of great leadership, of learning from new experiences and listening to the voices around us.

The Top 5 of 2011: Imagination

I grew up with an active imagination, and a big imagination as well. While no artist, I would doodle my way through classes or imagine up stories whenever bored. There's little I enjoy more than a good story, whether it be in the form of book or movie or play. I always imagine things on the world scale as well. As a child, my dreams were mostly about me saving the world, or at least having the opportunity to save the world.

Imagination is a God-given thing, I think. Imagination is necessary to have a relationship with an invisible God, just like imagination is necessary to have a long-distance relationship. But God nurtures our imaginations and encourages imagining all throughout the Bible. What are prophets but people enraptured by a hopeful imagination?

We have done some hopeful imagining this past year. One place I see that is in the Ridder Leadership Initiative, where a small group of us is actively pursuing personal transformation and imagining ways in which the lessons we have learned can permeate our congregation and mission. Another place is in the HelpLink work, as it has offered us a chance to imagine what a county without poverty would look like.

Of course, a conversation about imagination would not be complete without a discussion of youth. From lock-ins to VBS, it has been a very active year for our children and youth. We had the biggest VBS in recent memory in terms of numbers of kids, and we had a great time with our middle school youth (who have very active imaginations as well) with weekly lunches and monthly events. For the youth, our Christmas party provided plenty of good memories that will last a lifetime (although I still contend that I got the short end of the stick with our white elephant gift exchange- I got a rock). I imagine that this year will see a lot of spiritual growth in our youngest generation.

What do you imagine for 2012?

The Top 5 of 2011: "Increase our Faith!"

This cry from the heart of the disciples (Luke 17:5) is the response of anyone who hears the difficult call to discipleship. In our top 5 of 2011, discipleship has to be at the center. Here are just some of the things I noticed this year.

For one, we added to our pastoral staff this year with Jan Price's commissioning. She became our Pastor of Adult Discipleship. While the position would be considered part time, her commitment to making disciples is full-time. More than one person has told me that the guidance and dedication she offers has made a tremendous impact on their spiritual lives. You may notice that Jan has not launched a big program or started teaching classes, and this is intentional. We are pursuing a more organic and natural path to discipleship, similar to the way of Jesus. Efficiency, while great in a factory, does not create disciples like Jesus did. Jesus gained and lost the crowds the whole way, keeping a small group of dedicated disciples around Him at most times. Anyway, Jan's pursuit of the way of Jesus has already had a transforming effect on the way we function.

Discipleship has often been seen as what the "dedicated" Christians do, and the "fringe" Christians are meant to be entertained long enough for the Holy Spirit to encourage the step from "fringe" to "dedicated." Other than the problem of judgment in our hearts about who is dedicated and who is on the fringe (usually measured by church attendance), the equation just isn't true. Discipleship is the process every single Christian is invited into, and Jesus Himself had the devout and the skeptical around Him. And so I have been so pleased at how many and what variety of people have really stepped into various opportunities to be discipled.

In short, I pray that this spirit of discipleship grows deeper and deeper as we try to follow Jesus together.

The Top 5 of 2011: Baptisms

I thought I would try something new. I want to create a "Top 5" for 2011. What are the top 5 moments from ministry in the past year? Well, a top 5 would be really hard to come by. So instead, I will write about the top 5 themes of the year. The first is baptism.

We had a few baptisms this year, and we baptized in a few different venues. We had baptisms in our sanctuary, and we had a baptism in the waters of Lake Michigan. Both have profound meaning and deep beauty.

I recognize that, for many, baptism holds a fair amount of controversy. The practice of baptism holds some vicious memories for me as well, since Christian communities have ostracized me and my faith has even been called into question because of my infant baptism. I want to step beyond that today, only mentioning it to acknowledge that these feelings exist. But here's what I witnessed this past year.

This year, I performed my first adult baptism in Lake Michigan. It was a great moment, with members of our church surrounding a family as I baptized on its members. We waded out waste-deep into Lake Michigan, and "took the plunge" into its seasonally cool waters. In the midst of the onlookers and the waves, there was a moment that got me. I told the person being baptized, "now just let yourself fall back, and I will pull you back out." When I said those words, I realized that our entrance into life with Christ is not our work. It's not how deep we can dive or how quickly we run to the waters; at some point, it's letting go and falling into the arms of grace and knowing that we will be lifted out of death and into life. That was neat.

I also baptized infants as well, and there is a beautiful image that goes beyond facts and spoken words. A family stands before the community, professing their faith and making promises (as serious and deep as wedding vows) toward a child. A community stands around a family and makes the same vows. And then I get the (humbling) privilege of uttering God's promises found in the cross of Jesus Christ. And in baptizing this little one, we see the truth of the Gospel that God loves first, and that we belong before we believe.

I hope that we can reflect on our own baptisms today, and embrace the God who embraced us. Happy New Year.