C.S. Lewis, in one of the last chapters of Mere Christianity, says that the quality of life among the “new humanity” is such that those of us around them would know there was something different- otherworldly- at work. The spiritual life that they possessed was so different from the merely material, biological life we all possess that “something” would be qualitatively, observably different.

Have I known such people? Many of us would say that we have, but I wonder how many of us would also say that those with the evident presence and life of Jesus shared other characteristics as well?

This can become a “chicken or egg” conversation because we know that God works in a synergy of gracious beginnings and loving responses, but his choices of where to begin this process can’t be mapped or anticipated. In my own life I cannot help but see how many of those who came to have the tantalizing reality of Jesus in undeniable ways had been brought to places few of us would choose from life’s menu. [Continue reading]

There was a pear tree close to our own vineyard, heavily laden with fruit, which was not tempting either for its color or for its flavor. Late one night — having prolonged our games in the streets until then, as our bad habit was — a group of young scoundrels, and I among them, went to shake and rob this tree. We carried off a huge load of pears, not to eat ourselves, but to dump out to the hogs, after barely tasting some of them ourselves. Doing this pleased us all the more because it was forbidden. Such was my heart, O God, such was my heart — which thou didst pity even in that bottomless pit. Behold, now let my heart confess to thee what it was seeking there, when I was being gratuitously wanton, having no inducement to evil but the evil itself. It was foul, and I loved it. I loved my own undoing. I loved my error — not that for which I erred but the error itself. A depraved soul, falling away from security in thee to destruction in itself, seeking nothing from the shameful deed but shame itself. -St. Augustine, Confessions, IV, 9.

One of the realities of being a semi-regular correspondent with an audience returning day after day looking for something new from your pen is the fact that you will be writing during all the various states of the human experience. Christian writing on the internet has the tendency to sound as if it is always coming from the warm glow of the study, with drippings of devotional gold appearing on the page after hours of prayer and meditation. I’d judge that to be, almost universally, a myth, and I’m not much on mythologies in my Christianity. [Continue reading]

Young folks in ministry. Adults living in regret. This is for you.

There was a time, in the last decade, that I constantly and painfully struggled with regrets about various choices I’d made in my life.

I regretted not finishing doctoral studies. (I made it 37 hours in and never finished the paper.)

I regretted staying in youth ministry so long. (13 years full time, then back for 18 years where I am after 4 years as a pastor.)

I regretted staying in Kentucky. (I had opportunities to go to Oxford, Mississippi and to Texas, but followed my hillbilly instincts.)

I regretted that so many of my friends were pastors of First Baptist Churches and I never got close. (The cost of not getting that Dr. degree.)

I regretted a bunch of stuff I can’t talk about. (You don’t want to know.)

Sometimes, I’ve honestly regretted staying at one ministry in the mountains of Appalachia for most of two decades. There was a time I was constantly called to do speaking and seminars, but almost from the day I came here those opportunities stopped. Say what you want, when you’re in the mountains of southeast Kentucky, you’re off the radar. It can be very disorienting. [Continue reading]

I’m writing about spirituality these days. Yeah, I know how a lot of you feel about that word. So deal. We’re going to use it.

We’re also going to use another word some of you don’t like: formation. Now that we’re good and grumpy, let’s go for a ride.

I’ve been reflecting on the spiritual formation I’ve received as a result of my participation in the blogosphere. The Christian blogosphere.

What kind of Christian influences are coming into my life through the models of Christian faith I am exposed to in this medium? What is the shape of the spiritual formation I encounter here? Can I distance myself from it enough to make any kind of helpful observations?

I have to admit that the blogosphere is a unique experience to everyone. No one of us, no matter how many similar social networking or communication tools we use, encounters the exact same influences. I’m experiencing this medium from one place and through a unique combination of elements that I choose to read, view and participate in. Your mileage will vary. [Continue reading]

Thirty-one years ago today Denise and I were married by the Rev. W.O. Spencer at Walnut Street Baptist Church in Owensboro, Ky. Rev. Spencer is gone to be with the Lord and the church building has burned, but our marriage has lasted and is a wonderful blessing to me.

This is my one and only girl. I love her so much and treasure all that she’s poured into our marriage when others would have given up. We have two amazing children and we are enjoying these empty nest years with God’s joy. I couldn’t imagine life without her.

I’ve got a new hot button. I experienced it this week and I think it’s best to warn the general public that until I make some progress in sanctification, pushing this button could result in an ugly scene.

(Before I say this, I know there are a bunch of books on this subject and I’ve read some of them. I could just recommend a good book, but I need to get this off my chest.)

My new hot button is “You need to pray until you find God’s will.”

First of all, I believe in God, and I believe he has a will. I believe God sovereignly runs the universe pretty much like the Westminister/Second London Confessions say, though I have absolutely no idea what that means other than God is in control in a way I can’t understand and am not capable of understanding. (My brain is too small.) It’s an assertion, and as much as I know God only in Jesus, it’s a comfort. [Continue reading]

Other IM essays on Appalachia.

The Gospel and Appalachia
The Gospel and Appalachia: Can The Culture Change?
The Gospel and Appalachia: Four Christian Responses

Most IM readers know that I live in southeastern Kentucky, in a particularly poverty and crime affected area of Appalachia. In economic and social studies of crime and poverty, our county and congressional district are among the ten worst affected areas of the United States.

You don’t have to be a detective to see sin, poverty and their terrible effects where I live. The last three years have featured the arrest and conviction of large numbers of public officials for involvement in the vote-buying and the distribution of drugs in our county. Jaw dropping visible poverty is common (though we are far from the worst I’ve seen in Eastern Kentucky.) Social problems of every kind are plentiful. Ignorance, unemployment, exploitation, oppression: these aren’t concepts, but realities here.

Of course, Appalachia has a lot of good Christian people. The Christians who live and work here in southeastern Kentucky are dedicated believers. They see and experience a lot of pain, suffering and loss in this culture. It is a tough place to raise your children. Schools are often not good. The dropout rate is astronomical. Medical care often requires lots of travel. Economic and educational opportunities are few. Churches are usually small, clergy are almost always untrained and church splits are very, very common. [Continue reading]

I’m thinking about grace a lot today after a bit of a mystical experience in church Sunday.

As we were preparing for communion, I was praying. The Spirit brought to mind a series of dark incidents from my own life where God was miraculously gracious to me. I’m not talking about small matters. I am talking about incidents and character failures- most of which I’ve exiled from my mind and memories- where God alone is responsible for the fact that I was not fired, humiliated, divorced, dead or immersed in grief and suffering. Incidents that, if God had allowed them to be, would have been life defining in consequence.

These are moments and situations I know about. Only God knows the very many I don’t know about. These are crossroads moments where my life could have easily gone the route of people whose names we all know for their failures and mistakes, but God graciously intervened or overruled. [Continue reading]

I’ve been studying Proverbs with my Advanced Bible class. I thought I’d write a few for my newlywed son and his wife, and invite the IM audience to add their own. (Keep them short.)

“Husbands love your wives as Christ loves the church” is the most humbling word that God will ever speak to you.

Spiritual leadership is easy to talk about and almost impossible to find. In the end,it amounts to being like Jesus.

Don’t bring into marriage the same idea of marriage you had when you were single. Learn about marriage from those who have lived it and the One who designed it.

At all cost, avoid credit cards. The seduction of living above your means is incredibly easy, and must be fought with an all or nothing attitude. [Continue reading]

But now that you have come to know God, or rather to be known by God…(Galatians 4:9a, English Standard Version)

I’ve been teaching Galatians for over a year, and I happened to cross this verse this week, a week marked by the passing of one of my most significant mentors. She exemplified many things in my life, but one of the most significant was her amazing hunger for the teaching of the Word of God. She had a quick and focused mind that was always taking in a sermon or a book of theology or Biblical teaching. Right up until her last few months, she was accumulating knowledge about God.

It’s interesting to me that Paul interrupts himself in Galatians 4- almost corrects himself- to say that the better way to describe the Christian experience is coming to be known rather than coming to know. People who make this kind of distinction can be a bit irritating.

But there’s a reason to make such a distinction, and it’s very important we make it. [Continue reading]

This morning our school community lost one of its most loved and influential members, Mrs. Betty Hasty. For 21 years she’s been my personal accountability group. No one on the planet has more to do with my passion for the Gospel in the place where I serve than Betty. She was the person responsible for Denise and I coming to where we now serve almost 17 years ago.

I never knew a person more ready to go to heaven. I feel guilty missing her. Really, for Betty this was everything she’s lived for and dedicated every waking moment to. She’d done all she could do in this world. Her heart was through and she was more than ready to see Jesus. This morning at 7:30 a.m., she got her wish.

I don’t know if I will be writing about her for a while. She’d not like what I’d have to say, because it would be too much about her.

So Denise, the better writer in the family, has written a beautiful tribute at her blog: Butter and Cream. Please read it and think of our friend. (BTW, the rainbow pics are on my facebook page.)

READ: Butter and Cream.

Next Reformation posted this bit of a 2008 CT interview with Richard Foster. (I mainly mention Foster to light up the radar of the discernabloggers. Boo!)

What is the discipline that you think we need to be exploring more at this point?

“Solitude. It is the most foundational of the disciplines of abstinence, the via negativa. The evangelical passion for engagement with the world is good. But as Thomas à Kempis says, the only person who’s safe to travel is the person who’s free to stay at home. And Pascal said that we would solve the world’s problems if we just learned to sit in our room alone. Solitude is essential for right engagement.

“I so appreciated in Bonhoeffer’s Life Together the chapter, “The Day Alone,” and the next chapter, “The Day Together.” You can’t be with people in a right way without being alone. And of course, you can’t be alone unless you’ve learned to be with people. Solitude teaches us to live in the presence of God so that we can be with people in a way that helps them and does not manipulate them.

“Another thing we learn in solitude is to love the ways of God; we learn the cosmic patience of God. There’s the passage in Isaiah in which God says, “Your ways are not my ways,” and then goes on to describe how God’s ways are like the rain that comes down and waters the earth. Rain comes down and just disappears, and then up comes the life. It’s that type of patience.

“In solitude, I learn to unhook myself from the compulsion to climb and push and shove. When I was pastoring that little church, I’d go off for some solitude and worry about what was happening to people and how they’re doing and whether they would get along without me. And of course, the great fear is that they’ll get along quite well without you! But you learn that’s okay. And that God’s in charge of that. You learn that he’s got the whole world in his hands.”

[Continue reading]

When you’ve lived in an intentional Christian community for almost 17 years, you’re a pretty sorry excuse for a person if you haven’t thought about how your life has affected that community or how that experience has shaped you as a person. You live together on the same campus, eat together for most meals, live by the same rules, worship together, serve one another, labor together, suffer together, counsel one another, sin with and in proximity to one another and offer your particular gifts and ministries together. You make an impact and the community impacts you.

It’s not like church. Many a day, when times have been tough, I’ve longed for the old days when I worked on church staff and I spent only a few hours a week with members of the congregation. A couple of hours on Sunday morning and, unless there was an emergency, that was it for the week with most of them. I could even have friendships that were outside of the congregation and no one noticed!

But in intentional community, all of that sort of thing is offered up. I see my students and co-workers for many, many hours a week. And they see me constantly; ad nauseum, I fear. Sometimes when someone will be having a social occasion and we’re invited, I think to myself “These people see and hear me so much, if I show up for this, they will all be depressed.” [Continue reading]

One of the things I really don’t like about run-of-the-mill evangelical spirituality is the assumption that we’re all basically clones of each other. Cheerful clones. Mentally healthy clones. Good family clones. Conservative political clones. Happy at church clones. Like the same music clones. Clones who cope well. Clones who think alike. Clones who can take a cheerful verse and dissolve any problem in short order.

Let me take a simple thing. I don’t like Fox News. I don’t have a vendetta about it, but it’s inflammatory much of the time, and their overall harping tone doesn’t do a thing for my blood pressure. They do a lot of name calling, cheap shots, girly pics and “true crime” coverage. I don’t live in England, so I don’t want the screaming British media.

What would be my fate if I stood up at my next public gathering with conservative evangelicals and read the previous paragraph? Let’s just say that many judgments would be made on this one item, most of them far from true. [Continue reading]

Back in the day, I got a psych major in my undergrad work. That’s pretty ironic, believe me, in more ways than you can imagine.

I can’t say I learned a great deal, but I did begin a lifelong journey of making observations and drawing tentative conclusions about myself. If I would have paid attention to all I’ve discovered about myself, I’d have a very different life. Some psychologist can tell me why I routinely ignore the lessons I’ve learned and repeat all the same mistakes.

One thing I’ve learned is that I’ve got some holes in my personality that go a lot deeper than I can understand. They are caverns in my self-understanding; potholes in the soul, so to speak. Like a series of tunnels that connect with points in my past and experience, these dark places are imperfectly mapped, sometimes frightening and very, very real when you fall into one. [Continue reading]