The Parable of the Trust Funds

"Make it wane! Make it wane!"

There were two brothers born into a very wealthy family. This family was so wealthy, in fact, that the head of the family established two trust funds, naming both of the brothers as beneficiaries. These trust funds would grant each brother with $1,000,000,000. The terms of these trust funds, however, did not allow access to these accounts until the brothers had reached their 50th year.

At the age of 18, each brother was made aware of the fortune that awaited him in the future. The one brother, no longer seeing the point in working for any wealth that would quickly be made obsolete by his 50th birthday, began to squander the resources he had. As time wore on and his resources waned to nothing, he began to borrow much and take out many loans knowing that one day he might pay them off.

The other brother, seeing the wastefulness of depending solely on a fortune that would take 32 years to arrive, began to work and build his own fortune. With the confidence given by the promise of future wealth, this brother was willing to take risks in investments and generosity that helped make his future of wealth and prosperity into a present reality.

So it is with the Kingdom of God.

hmmm...

Man Oh Manna

Just try to keep up, son!

How is it that some of the most provocative and revolutionary ideas are some of the oldest that we have? I was reminded of this truth today as I had the opportunity to listen to a lecture by the author of The Irresistible Revolution and Jesus For President, Shane Claiborne.

Some of you may have read or heard of Shane Claiborne before and can attest to his fantastic ability to communicate. Often his most inflammatory statements are somehow sweetened by his charming Southern drawl and his joyful personality. As revolutionary and inspiring as he may be, however, the simple reality is that his ideas are old. Really old!

Buckle up, kids. It's freakin' story time!

For example, Shane told the old Exodus story involving bread from heaven, wandering ex-slaves, and a really powerful and loving God. (Quick Bible History Lesson: The Hebrew slaves had finally been released from the clutches of Egyptian slavery through the mighty acts of God, and were now wandering through the wilderness with hopes of the Promised Land. In their wandering, they began to fear that Moses had led them from Egypt only to die of hunger in the desert. God hears the cries of his people and responds by sending bread from heaven, called "Manna." This bread was sent, however, with a command. "I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day." If they gathered more than needed, their storage of Manna would be filled with maggots.)

This may be an old story, but it is still a revolutionary and challenging concept. God invites this community to take what they need and trust that there will be enough for tomorrow.

Now here is the truth, living with a wandering group of nomads in a place where bread rains from heaven every morning is a bit different from living in America in the 21st Century. There is a wisdom and stewardship that aligns with proper savings and storage. But be that as it may, there is still an underlying message here that will always be relevant for the hearts of humankind. We have a strong tendency to believe that "there is not enough." Not enough money. Not enough time. Not enough resources. Not enough! And it is this fear of scarcity that leads to our tightened grips, our lack of sharing, our fear of the future, and our general anxiety with life. 

"Oh no! Do I have enough time to finish this blog!?"

Let's make it plain. If you are reading this blog, I am guessing in one way or another you are worrying about what's next... not with my blog, but with your life. I have friends buying homes, starting churches, moving to new cities, and I am pretty sure that all of them are asking themselves similar questions.

"Can we afford this?"

"Is this the right decision?"

"How am I going to make enough money?"

"What am I supposed to do with my life?"

And on and on and on... 

These questions plague us and fill our sleepless nights with dread. The wandering Hebrew people were probably asking similar questions. What did we do? What is next? What if we run out?

What do you think it would it be like to let these questions go? What would it take to let them go? What if we understood that the answers to these questions would not free us of our worry, but, at best, redirect it?

This Exodus story invites us into a way of living that defies these worrisome questions. It prescribes a life of trust. It is not a health and wealth Gospel (just believe and you'll have all that you desire), nor is it a life void of responsibility. "Everyday" we are to "gather enough for that day." No more and no less.

So, I guess the next time your heart if filling with these questions of dread and worry, ask yourself, "Have I gathered what I need for today?" If your answer is, "yes," then what have you got to be so worried about?!

Yeah. Calm down, dummy.

The Perspective Cliff

Imagine standing about 20 feet from the lip of a cliff waiting for your loved one to climb up to where you are. You know that this person is actively trying to reach the top. You can even hear them scrambling and yelling out, "I'm coming!" but, as more time goes by, you start to wonder whether they will ever make it. Minutes and then hours roll by and each "I'm coming! I'm coming!" becomes a reminder of the inability and untrustworthiness of this sorry excuse for a climber. And there you wait... alone... wondering if this person will ever come.

"Are there rocks ahead?"
"If there are, we all be dead."

Now, imagine yourself at the bottom of a rock face. The rocks are wet and hard to hold. You quickly realize that this climb, although possible (you've seen others have done it before), is easily going to be one of the most difficult things you will ever have to do. You begin your ascent, but quickly underestimate the slick nature of the rocks, so you slide back down to the bottom. You try another route, but again are surprised by difficulty of the climb. You think about quitting, but staying at the bottom is not an option. The car, your friends, and your life are waiting at the top. So you start again. Learning, as you go, how to better handle the terrain, you get farther than you ever have before and yell out in excitement, "I'm coming! I'm almost there!" only to put your faith in the wrong foothold and once again slide to the bottom. By now, your arms and legs are scraped and bleeding and your lungs feel on fire as you hear an annoyed and bitter voice from above ask, "Are you coming or aren't you?" To which you quietly respond under your breath, as your heart fills with rage, "Forget you! I'm doing the best I can!"

It's obvious, isn't it? If the person at the top would simply walk forward, look over the cliff and see how hard the climber is trying and how treacherous the climb truly is, his or her annoyance and bitterness might fade and they might even find appreciation for the climber's best efforts.

"Oh... that does look difficult."

But even with this new perspective shift, there is a tension that remains. First, this is their climb. You cannot climb it for them. To throw down a rope and pull them up is to steal their dignity and to rob them of any confidence for future climbs. Second, your unsolicited help or suggestions may only serve to further frustrate the climber. Remember, they are climbing while you are sitting comfortably at the top. You are not going to be the one who saves them. Which leads to the final tension. Despite your encouragement and understanding, this might take a lot longer than you think.

So it is with our sin and how it affects the ones we love.

"If anyone of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone... Go now and leave your life of sin."

Let's Make It Hobbitual

Stuntin' is a hobbit.

By now, many of you have hopefully found your way to the movie theatre, spent far too much money on soda and milk duds, and let yourself enjoy the latest Peter Jackson offering known as "The Hobbit: An Unexpected Journey."

As for my quick review, I thought it was good. It was more lighthearted than The Lord of the Rings Trilogy and had some "cartoonish" moments that definitely hold true to the fun nature of the original Tolkien masterpiece. Obviously, there is the whole "frame rate" debate, but I simply enjoyed the story, which I feel was enhanced with the addition of story points from other writings of Tolkien.

What is frame rate, precious?

I say all this to say that I decided to be one of those pretentious and self-righteous folk in preparing for this movie. You know! The kind who feel the burden to read the book before the movie so that we can say things like, "Yeah, well... the book was better." It is a problem and I know it, but there are definite perks to doing this. First, often the book actually is better. Sorry! Had to say it. Second, you get to pick out little gems of dialogue like the one I am about to share with you.

Books give me the power to condescend!

This quotation takes place at the end of the epic tale (which means it might show up in part 2 or 3 of the movies), so I'll not divulge too much detail.

Think about this line, "If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world." To which I raise my coldest and largest glass of ale and bellow forth a resounding, "AMEN!"

Let's spend some time on these valued elements. Not that Mr. Tolkien would have ever wanted us to proof text and dissect his passage like this, but I guess if we feel the freedom to do it to scripture, why not to good ol' J.R.R.?

Is this food? 

1. Food - Food has many interesting qualities. It is a necessity for life. It is enjoyable (i.e. it tastes good... most of the time.) It can be comforting. It is cultural and diverse. It is wrapped up in tradition. It is highly emotional. I am probably just at the tip of the iceberg, but already it is plain to see that food is complex.

Truly valuing food would most likely lead to some interesting conclusions. For one, the concept of "fast" food would be gone, because when you value something, you take your time with it. Dinner tables would no longer serve as decorations and televisions would no longer set the soundtrack and conversations of the meal. I could probably rant for a while (mostly at myself), but to me there seems to be something intrinsically good and right about valuing food. It is not to be gorged, wasted or feared. It is to be loved and valued like the gift that it is.

Picture taken from the National "Pride for your Pits" Day Festival

2. Cheer - By cheer, I don't think Tolkien means skirts and pompoms. I believe he is tapping into the idea of mirth, lightheartedness, laughter, and joy. That same sense that often comes with the whole Christmas season. It is that deep internal sense that there is good in this world and that no darkness can permanently overshadow the light.

I'm singing... in an office... and... 

3. Song - When was the last time you sang? I mean really sang? Not the tempered voicing we do on Sunday mornings or the light, subtle harmonies to the songs on our car radio. I am talking about the eye-squinting, diaphragm-pushing, gut-busting singing that cuts through thin walls of plaster and causes the thumping of broomsticks from the apartment below. Now. When was the last time you sang like that with a group of people?

To value song is to know freedom in a truly physical and emotional way that connects us with our community. Soccer hooligans get it. Irish pubs get it. Occasionally the church gets it. We need to get it.

So, what do you value? Do you think Tolkien is right? Would you add to the list? Subtract? How is that we might start making this world a bit merrier?

How 'bout we add beer to that list? Heyo!

The 12 Blogs of Christmas: Part 12 "Completion"

12 Drummers Drumming!

Here it is. The final chapter to this epic challenge that I dubbed "The 12 Blogs of Christmas." Yes, it's true that I may be writing this final entry while riding on the plane from Des Moines to Los Angeles and that I am writing a Christmas blog entry on the first day of January, but who cares! I'm finishing... right?

"You are late, Mister!"

With all the being said, it only seemed right to have this 12th Yule tide entry be on the theme of completion. For example, me flying home from Iowa with my lovely wife is truly the end of the Christmas season for us. When we get home, no more Christmas music will be played and all the decorations will have to be put away. The movies have all been watched, the gifts unwrapped and the parties are now behind us.

In a very real sense, there is a sadness that comes with completion. Despite your thoughts on the holiday season, there does usually seem to be an overarching sense of good cheer, but now... sadly... Christmas is over. In a strange way, it is probably good that we feel sad. It means that the time and season actually meant something.

"Please don't let it be over!"

So if you're feeling low these next few weeks, it is totally understandable. But here is the other angle I want to take on this idea of completion.

A few weeks back I resolved to write 12 blogs about my experiences with Christmas, which resulted in the blowing up of many email inboxes across the country. (oops...) If I had ended up doing just 3 or 5, the truth is most of you would have moved on with your lives and not paid much notice. But something would have changed. My credibility would have taken a hit. Again, this is only a blog that has very small consequence to you and your community, but not finishing all 12 blogs would have said something about me.

I was recently talking to a good friend of mine. In a moment of powerful honesty, he admitted to me that he knew why he has struggled in certain leadership roles. He realized that others are cautious of following him because he has a track record of starting things and not following through. People want to follow someone they can trust. Since he had this realization, he has taken several steps to change about himself. These steps range from consistent workouts and healthy diet to writing projects and the completion of his bachelor's degree. Now a year later, he is fit, healthy and setting a track record that demands attention.

I was taken aback by my friend's humble and candid statement. Not because this is a brand new and original idea, but because of how close it hits to home... for many of us. It is that time of year when several of you will be considering New Year's resolutions. I happen to be the king of good "ideas" and new projects that have a shelf life of about 2 weeks to a month. Each time I fail, I end up feeling bad for myself and gain another reason to not believe in my own resolve or power of will.

So this is what I suggest and what I think I might try...

1.) I need to understand that there is power in completion. Knowing that this blog is almost at a close is already filling me with confidence for other writing projects and goals that I might have in the future. I need to capitalize on these small victories and keep moving forward

2.) I need to be wise. My goals or resolution need to be something that is possible right now! (Don't say you'll run every day if you don't even own a pair of running shoes.)

"Yeah! Get wise, you punk." 

3.) I need to actually do what I set have about to do. Finish! Even if it is not all like you thought it would be. FINISH!!! I just wonder how different our lives might be if our "Yes" truly meant yes and our "No" truly meant no.

... on second thought...

That's what I'm going to try. Maybe you can join me? Keep in mind, there is grace in all of this and failure can often be one of our best teachers, but think of the impact you might have as you continue to prove to yourself and to your community that your word can be trusted and that your resolve is sound.

Merry Christmas, everybody! Here's to a year of completion.

"We'll drink to that! How 'bout we complete this beer? Heyo!"

The 12 Blogs of Christmas: Part 11 "The Switch"

It's Christmas morning! The magic of the late night Christmas Eve service is still in the air and the long anticipated day is finally here. I sit up in bed, take a deep breath, stretch, and turn to look at the clock to see that it is... 10:47!? How did this happen???

When I was younger, the thought of sleeping in this late was ridiculous. How on earth could I continue to stay in bed when the reality of a stockpile of presents with my name on them was so much better than anything I could dream? I remember feeling like I was being punished because my parents had told me I had to stay in my room until 7 am. Once 7 am hit, I could not understand why my parents were acting so tired and worn out. Sure! They may have stayed up until 2 or 3 am making sure that all the presents were wrapped and under the tree, but 4 hours of sleep should be more than enough for the wonder of Christmas... right?

"Christmaaaaaaaaaaaaaas!!!" 

This was the story for most of my childhood Christmases, but then the switch happened. I'm sure you have all experienced it. The switch is that fateful year when you decide to forsake the excitement of Christmas for the relaxation and comfort of sleep. My first switch involved a four-hour swing. The year before, I had been up by around 7:30 am; the following year... 11:30!

It cannot be predicted when the switch will take place, but it will happen. But why does this happen? I used to think that it was because I was simply too old to get that excited about Christmas. I had matured. Now I realize, as I'm sure you do too, I'm not mature at all. The reason I stay in bed is for the same reason that I used to get out of bed so early. When I was younger, I actually had the power to manipulate when we opened presents. Earlier is better, so I would get up early to open presents sooner. As I got older, however, my powers of manipulation had faded. My older siblings had moved out of the house and there was no chance we would be opening gifts before noon. Thus, I slept in. Sleeping in meant that I could open presents sooner after waking.

Nice work, sleepy Gus. 

So if you happen to be feeling sad that you've lost some of your childhood excitement for Christmas, don't be. You're just playing the game better and getting your presents earlier in your day. Well done, Christmas sleeper. Well done. The Christmas Spirit is alive in you!

The 12 Blogs of Christmas: Part 10 "It's Never Too Late"

The Christmas Eve 11 pm church service is one of my favorites of the entire year. There is this odd magic and peacefulness to the whole experience. Growing up in Iowa, my family had its routine. Most of Christmas Eve day was filled with either getting last minute stuff taken care of or sitting around watching movies. Once evening came, we would head over to a family friend's house for their annual Christmas party. This was one of those adult parties where the cookies are a bit too dry, the punch is good but not great, and everyone is spreading a substance on crackers that look to have no business being on a food table. The people were nice enough, but this was no place for a young boy. I felt out of place and awkward.

Then my whole family would pile into the jeep and head to the church. On the way, my sister would be attempting to convince my folks to either skip church or at least turn off the Manheim Steamroller. (You know it's true, Leslie.) Meanwhile, my dad's eyes were already noticeably getting heavier and prepped for his long winter's nap. I on the other hand welcomed this late night service with open arms for a few reasons. First, it was a respite from the cheese log adult fest. Second, I was guaranteed to play with fire (love those tiny white candles). Finally, I just flat out liked it.

The church would be warmly lit, while outside the snow glowed with moonbeams. The air was crisp and cold. We sang songs that I knew and that even had a minor key. (Who doesn't love some O Come O Come Emmanuel?)

My favorite part, however, was walking out into the cold, still winter night after having just sang Silent Night. Even as a kid, I could feel the magnitude of this moment. I knew that this was no time to be loud or annoying. I understood that this was a time to sit still and wonder. Somehow, despite the anticipation of gifts and the normal chaos of the holiday season, a peace could be found, a stillness was available and a silent night could be possible.

I think it was in this moment that I would be reminded what the whole Christmas season was about. That in the midst of all the chaos and all the hardship and all the pain a peace can be born and was born that would transcend any power or being that would try to crush it.

So, it is my hope that you are able to attend such a service. It is my hope that you would have such a moment. It is my hope that this birth we celebrate tonight, would bring about a rebirth in you and that you would find peace on this silent night.