MJ Goody Bag

I'm Solde on January

2012-02-04T22:40:00.001+01:00

Mid-January to mid-February marks a special time to all people in France who care about their budget, which nowadays amounts to almost everyone that doesn't live in West Paris or isn't named Sarkozy. It is a glorious time of year featuring what is known as les soldes, or "the sales". This is unlike in the US, where one never knows when the real sales are going on unless there is a line of tents outside of Best Buy, and because WalMart's prices are always falling while Sears seems to come out every other week with its lowest prices of the season, whatever that means. In France, real, legitimate mark-downs of the 70% variety happen only twice a year - between January and February and again from mid-June to mid-July. You know this because it is regulated. Stores are not allowed to have sales at any other time without special permission from the authorities.

In her insightful book "60 Million French Can't Be Wrong", Julie Barlow explains this is leftover from the practices of the merchants' guilds in the Middle Ages. The guilds of that time served to protect merchants from competition from other villages by regulating prices. This was enforced by a sort of medieval policeman called the Provost. The Provost would enforce the law by breaking the legs of any offenders. The Provosts eventually evolved into today's local policemen. Today it is still the local authorities who insure that businesses can only reduce prices more than 10% during the approved periods, or else face severe penalties. These sales in France pre-date the founding of America. To go out and look around at the mall during this hallowed time is more than just shopping. It is participating in French history. At least that's what Dalene tries to tell me.

Since necessary things like shoes and coats and man-purses at normal prices in Europe usually require a decade-long layaway plan or government bailout to afford, these sales are something not to be missed. So typically on a day like today, the last Saturday of les soldes, we were out in minus-5 degree Celcius weather with the rest of the country, jammed into stores with interesting names like Babou, Tati, and LeClerc, which is kind of like a Super Walmart with a better bread selection and without AARP greeters.

Today, we happened to need to grab a quick lunch at KFC. Now most French will bad-mouth our American fast-food for its poor nutrition and quality, and rightly so. But all sense of taste must have gone out the window, because the lines were coming out the doors and there wasn't a seat in the house. This was also caused by the school winter holiday schedule. Different areas of France have their holidays staggered. But at least a third of the country's holiday makers at any one time, find themselves in our vicinity of southeastern France. All the skiers who had spent the week of the school holiday up on the slopes above Grenoble, were on their way home, while a new batch of snowboarders and sledders were coming from another part of France to take their place. And every one of them got hungry for the Colonel's secret recipe at the exact same time.

Skiers and shoppers, there we all were, brought together by an act of fate and the State. And yet there was no hate. Despite the crowds and the waiting, there were no angry outbursts or beligerent customers. Everyone seemed to take it in stride - even the dad who was getting up from the table to leave and had his drink knocked out of his hands and into his lap by an overanxious kid trying to sit down quickly to stake out the imminently vacated table. Maybe a lifetime of regulated sales and school holidays makes jostling crowds just part of the expected for the French. Long lines, traffic jams and spilled cokes tend to make most Americans have an aneurism. Maybe the French are experts at staying cool and composed. Either that, or they're still afraid of that Provost still lurking around somewhere.

Spring Sprung Early

2012-01-07T17:08:00.000+01:00

These past few days, Dalene has been busy doing spring cleaning around the house. Yeah, I know we just started winter, but a woman’s sense of needing to give the family nest a makeover is not necessarily regulated by the seasons. It can strike at any time. She finally had enough of the slow build-up of wear-and-tear, clutter and dust bunnies since the last time she went through the house with a white glove, fine-tooth comb and whatever other proverbial tool helps one find dirt and root out all t-shirts with brown-stained armpits. It might have had something to do with our 17 year old Christmas tree that sheds a good amount of its needles every time it is put up or taken down. After our post-Noel cleanup, we were finding little green artificial pine needles everywhere and were getting tired of everything looking like it had a dusting of oregano. Something just had to be done. The deep cleaning started in the kitchen – which was great. Her domain. What should be a hygienic place from which yummy food is brought to the table. It gleamed and glistened more than normal when she was done. I liked it a lot, right up until my first cup of coffee the next morning, when I shuffled in to the kitchen and reached for my favorite mug. I could do this with my eyes closed, which I usually do at that time of the morning. I unexpectedly latched onto a plastic pitcher. That could mean either my coffee cup had been super-sized, or that Dalene was both cleaning AND rearranging.

A quick check of the house confirmed my worst suspicions: sock drawer suspiciously well organized; top drawer of hall cabinet cleared of all paper-clips, guitar picks, half-sticks of gum and miscellaneous screws; and the clincher, all coats, gloves, shoes, and hats had been mysteriously taken and put in a new top secret location. This was bad news for me. One, because I am a member of the male race and I already struggle to find things that are where they have always been, let alone after they have been whisked away to a place heaven knows where. But secondly, because I am a bit like a blind person who needs things to be in familiar places, otherwise I get disoriented and easily lose my way. As I write, the process is continuing. Nothing is safe from being swapped with something else. Sweaters, books, furniture, photos on the wall, even door-handles (well not really, but it wouldn’t surprise me). Little piles destined for the garage appear regularly, unfortunate items deemed unfit for the “new” us. Now the real opinion of a shirt or tie is evidenced by its appearance in the rummage-sale stack.

There is a spiritual analogy to be drawn here. In the same way I like to feel clean and be clean, I love it when Christ comes to my rescue and performs a deep cleansing of my heart and soul. It feels so good to shine again and get the gunk out. But cleaning AND rearranging? I don’t like that so much. As he lays his finger on unattractive attitudes or habits I have been wearing, I find myself a little reluctant to put them on the throw-out pile, even though they might be dingy, moth-eaten and even smell a bit rank. I like things in my life to remain comfortably predictable, just the way I arranged them. I have grown comfortable with the way things are. And so I am averse to the Holy Spirit rearranging elements in my life, suddenly and without permission, when I am not ready. Relational styles, emotional supports, and coping systems – all are fair game for his tendency toward renovation. But my life is His domain. He has the right. And frankly, there are times when He has just had enough of the clutter and the dirt; something just has to be done. I feel a little disoriented at first. But slowly, I begin to see the wisdom of the new arrangement. And it begins to feel more familiar and not so foreign. This month as we begin extended days of fasting and prayer to begin 2012, I expect my life to go through some cleaning and rearranging – maybe a lot of it. And you know what I’ve found? Both my wife and the Holy Spirit are pretty good at spring cleaning. And it’s OK.

A Christmas Balancing Act

2011-12-19T15:21:00.008+01:00

As Christ followers who love to celebrate Christmas, my family and I feel as if we are living between two extremes this Christmas season. At one end of the spectrum lies the no-holds-barred, full-on embracing of all things Christmas-related, sacred and secular all rolled together into one big yule log. Santa makes appearances at church celebrations, Christmas trees adorn the platforms, and Christians in all 50 states who campaign to "Keep the Christ in Christmas", see an antichrist conspiracy in every generic "Happy Holidays" uttered or written.

In contrast, I have heard and read several pastors all but deny the existence of Christmas in an effort to keep out the commercial influence and historically pagan origins or overtones from influencing the faithful. One pastor in particular seemed to think the portrayal of Jesus as a baby in a manger reduced Him to a caricature void of His power. For him, Bethlehem cannot be emphasized without minimizing Golgotha. Funny, yet sadly reactionary. Some evengelical churches will see Christmas come and go with nary a change in decor, song list or sermon theme. As if ignoring Christmas will somehow get it changed to the real date of.... well, there is no definitive date, right? But for some, I get the idea that celebrating the birth of Christ on an arbitrary date in March would just, well,feel better than celebrating it on the arbitrary date of December 25th. The effort to not resemble a Carnegie Hall Christmas ends up looking instead like a Kingdom Hall Xmas - kind of sad and hollow.

There you have it - two camps, each just as saved and sincere as the other. Yet one tries to deny Christmas as truly Christian at all, while the other claims the church to be the real owner and last true guardian of the holiday.

I, for one, feel a bit confused by the debate. I would aim for balance in the middle of the fray. I think the Goods are just going to keep on doing what we have always done, and that is to retain, as well as add, as many meaningful memory making traditions we can pack into one month, and enjoy and celebrate them to the fullest with as many believers and non-believers as we can get to join us. While doing so, we plan to be as careful as always to make Christ the focal point of it all and make the Greatest who ever lived be seen and glorified in every facet of the celebration possible. And yet, every year always requires an effort to not let the spirit of the world, manifested by hurriedness, greed, and materialism, encroach into the spirit of the celebration we hold dear.

Don't get me wrong. Santa gets no air-time at our house, You won't find Father Christmas, Pere Noel or Kris Kringle mixing it up with the angels here. But neither do we demonize the poor fella, his reindeer or even the often slighted "pagan" Christmas tree. In the years of practicing to walk the line between Christmas hymns and Christmas hype. I think we get a bit better at it with every passing gingerbread house decorated. But in the end, my Jesus gets a bit more honor, focus, and attention in December than any other month out of my year. And for that, I am grateful for Christmas, mistletoe and all.

France, Football and First Assembly

2011-11-22T11:01:00.008+01:00

One thing I am coming to appreciate more about French culture is its resistance to becoming consumer driven. At first, it drove me crazy that most stores close at noon for two or even three hours, so that ALL the employees can have a leisurely lunch - at the same time. No concept of staggered lunch hours here, no siree. If you need to run to the corner grocery to get a few staples during your lunch break, you will hear a resounding "no" to the question "Got milk?" It was a bit hard to adjust to the fact that the customer is not always right in France, nor is anyone particularly motivated to please him or her. Money does talk here, but it seems the euro speaks in considerably softer and less demanding tones than does the almighty dollar. The French are trying hard in a competetive international market to hold on to traditional ways of doing things which they consider to be more valuable than simply making more money. In other words, there is more to life than selling out to wealth and status. I kind of like it. Especially because I am seeing how a consumer driven mentality elsewhere is adversely affecting two things I like a lot - sports and church.

I have watched with dismay how the rules of the games I love have changed over the years. I am a sports purist who feels comfortably anchored in tradition, which puts me in opposition to such trends and advancements such as instant replay, college football conference realignments, designated hitters, and the 24 second clock, just to name a few. And most of these changes were for the purpose of attracting and retaining more fans and spectators by speeding up the action and creating more scoring. But my point is, if you are a true fan, you love the game - as is. There is no need to speed up the game or change its rules if you already enjoy every minute of it. The real problem lies in the sport attempting to adapt to consumer-enthusiasts who are not really true fans, but shallow dabblers who lose interest when the rules of the sport do not produce a game to suit their fickle tastes and short attention spans. Ticket and merchandise sales as well as television broadcasting rights are what fuel the evolution of sports. In our consumer-driven sociey, profit trumps purity.

Tim Tebow and his team, the Denver Broncos, are causing an uproar in the NFL because they are playing a style of football that was once played by men who earned little and sacrificed much, just for the privilege to play. And that game was played before non-televised audiences who respected the game and passed on its hallowed, timeless traditions to the next generation. Today, sports has to come in trendy, flashy packaging that produces slick highlights, inspires sound-bites and sells tickets. Yet Tebow is literally turning back the clock; a throw-back to such a distant era that he is today considered cutting edge, if not polarizing. He's standing up for traditional values and being a solid role-model instead of spending his free-time with gangsters, strippers, or drug-dealers. Where have we come as a society when we love athletes more who have DUIs and get arrested for domestic violence than someone who prays publicly and serves the poor on humanitarian trips, as long as they win and give us bragging rights around the water cooler? Yes, as a quarterback Tebow runs better than he throws, which is not typical for his position. But this only flies in the face of a game that has come to be shaped and defined by consumers who speak with their wallets and demand to see a football game that meets its quota of long bombs and exciting catches. If not, they'd rather turn the channel to something more entertaining, like cage fighting or WWF Smackdown.

Sadly, the church is not immune to the influence brought by consumerism. People have become so accustomed to being pleased and pampered as consumers and fans, that they carry this mentality into the house of God. And we see that the church and its function and purpose slowly become shaped by the parishoners rather than the parson. What a mistake. I would like to think that the church could inherit a little backbone from the French where the process is equally important to the product. I think my French friends have it right in that regard. They will not sacrifice quality and longevity of life for the sake of short-term gain. May we as believers and leaders in the greatest enterprise the world has ever known not allow oursleves to be driven by church-shoppers and congregation-hoppers. Change is good, and many times necessary. But change for the sake of pleasing participants who major on using and taking, rather than sacrificing and giving, is joining the ranks of consumer driven supermarkets and super bowl contenders. The King and His kingdom should be served by loyal subjects. And I am a purist in that regard as well.

Drive Me Crazy

2011-11-16T17:24:00.023+01:00

The French driving exam process was a humbling experience for me. But now that I have my driving permit firmly in my pocket, because my hands are glued to the 10-o'clock and 2-o'clock position, I can say it is an achievement that I am fairly proud of.
The first of several steps was to apply for a grant, because the whole process costs an arm and a leg. Next I actually signed up at a local driving school. This includes having to participate in classroom sessions with varying numbers of eighteen-year-old French young people, and afterward having my pitiful score relayed to everyone after each practice test, followed by whispers and snickers. I was given a book full of every rule, regulation, historical fact regarding French drivers and their statistics, potential infraction of the driving code,and resulting fine, as well as every part of the automobile. Needless to say, my French vocabulary study list swelled to tome-like proportions. And I literally could have gone bald from pulling my hair out while trying to keep straight what is embrayage, demarrage, and embouteillage. (That's clutch, drive off and traffic jam, in case you were wondering).
Two plus months of studying my guts out resulted in me failing the first written exam. This was like an experience of a root-canal, leg-hair waxing, and my wife's favorite ab-crunch torture video all rolled into one. At the conclusion of the exam, each hopeful driving debutant must shuffle to the front like at a internment camp roll-call, to a desk where the monitor informs you of your result, with a congratulatory nod or smirk-adorned shake of the head while every eye is focused on your reaction. I then got a glimpse of what it might be like when we get up to the great-exam-room-in-the-sky, and God separates the goats from the sheepish. More studying, more trips to the driving school video room, more hair-pulling. But second time is a charm and I got the nod from Monsieur Monitor.
This then gave me the privilege to go back to the driving school again. And this time my burden to bear was: Anthony. Half swagger, half smooth, and 100% irritating, my 20-something driving instructor was the worst cross to bear yet. I was old enough to be his dad and probably had about 20 years driving experience on him. Still, he loved to question my every move and throw in there the familiar "tu" form of address. Kind of the equivalent of a college kid calling me "tiger", or "sport", as in, "Whoa, that's not how the French do things here, tiger." But what are you going to do, you can't purposely expose his side to a broadside collision. At least not and get your license. So I willed myself to the driving school, to what was mercifully only ten lessons in the car with Anthony, biting my lip, swallowing my pride and forgiving his stomping on the break pedal on his side as a reminder of who's the boss. Yes, it is a relief that he is now permanently in my blind spot, and no longer hovering in my peripheral.
I didn't have a lot of hope going into the actual driving exam, since I had talked to several French people who actually speak the language instead of some form of it like I do, and they had failed their exam. Some of them multiple times. So I tried to butter up my examiner, saying I really admired Alain Prost, the only famous F1 driver of note that I know of. (Okay, I had to Google it). I don't think he bought it. But in spite of my asking him to repeat his instructions a few times, he actually passed me. Probably to not have to see me in his car another time. But hey, I am not too proud to accept a handout.
I have now been awarded with a driving permit and the scarlet letter. For the next two years, French law requires that I post a very big red letter "A" emblazened on a circular white background on the rear of my car, to let people know I am a "learner". I prefer to think the "A" identifies me as "American". I also have to drive ten kilometers slower than the speed limit for that period. The way I figure it, from now on I will have a legitimate reason for being late.

Saints & Pilgrims

2011-10-22T21:55:00.009+02:00

Now that fall has set in, I see on Facebook that a few people are contemplating putting up Christmas decorations in late October. The Christmas bug bites early in some households. For us, Thanksgiving ended up being the holiday we started celebrating early this year, by putting up our pilgrim, Native American and turkey decor five weeks before the special day. Why? For one, Thanksgiving is a uniquely American holiday, while Christmas is increasingly celebrated by most of the rest of the world. So, Thanksgiving tends to invite questions from secular neighbors and friends and it gives us a chance to speak of the religious significance of how our nation was founded. But it also helps us to focus on what still remains the spiritual heritage of the United States, while enabling us to totally look past the 31st of October as a day we want to commemorate in any manner.

In France, we have just begun a ten day school holiday called Toussaint, which historically in France, was a religious holiday honoring all the saints of the Roman Catholic church. Although the nation as a whole is presently ultra-secular, it still marks the more religiously significant day of November 1st as its holiday, instead of the occult-inspired date of All Hallowed's Eve, as in American culture. It is interesting that a handful of stores here in France have a very small section devoted to Halloween costumes and paraphenalia, the majority of which are witches, vampires and goblins. Yet it is still a relatively small marketing attempt to gain an inroad into the French economy that hasn't quite taken hold, except for those French who may have lived in the US for some period of time. And it remains an American anomaly, for the most part. No complaint here. Toussaint is still the day of the saints that figures most prominantly in the French calendar and I prefer it much more to what seems to be happening in the U.S, which is making Thanksgiving almost an afterthought, in between the more celebrated Halloween and Christmas. While the candy is still being rationed, we skip right on to tinsel and candy canes, only because the economy drives culture nowadays. And frankly, for a Wal-Mart nation, Thanksgiving just doesn't "sell".

I would much rather play Thanksgiving up big, since so many of my international friends are so impressed or intrigued by this holiday. They really are surprised, and the Muslims the most pleasantly, that in the States, a day has been officially set aside as a time for the nation to collectively give thanks to God for all He has done in our lives as families and as a nation. It's something that really sets the United States apart. So I say, let's celebrate this wonderful, God-focused and honoring holiday for as long and as big as we can. As I write, it's only October 22nd, but consider it Thanksgiving time in the Good household, even though the turkey won't start cooking until over a month from now. At Thanksgiving we are truly thankful and we are thankful for Thanksgiving. It means far much more to us here and now, a few thousand miles away from our homeland, than ever. Maybe next year we'll even start putting out the pilgrim figurines right after 4th of July.

Heaven's Irony

2011-09-11T22:42:00.000+02:00

As a couple, Dalene and I have been seeking to understand how we can have a more effective partnership in ministry. After studying many of the biblical texts related to genders in ministry we also searched the internet for what some Christian leaders are saying. Quite frankly, we were shocked at the amount of teaching out there by well-known pastors that is against women in general and women in ministry in particular. As I think of all the vitrolic and negativity toward women that is coming out of many pulpits these days, I must say that I feel kind of sorry for these guys. I mean after all, to preach that women shouldn't teach or lead in the church, it would have to be quite a shock to get to heaven and find women occupying some of the most privileged positions of authority.
How can I know this? Well, to be honest I don't know anything about heaven with certainty. However I do know that Jesus said the last would be first and the least would be the greatest in His kingdom. Those who would like to relegate the fairer sex away from the podium and off the platform might need to stop and ask themselves not only if this is in fact biblical, but also if their stance might just serve to insure a reversing of roles in the hereafter. We also know that we are promised to rule and reign with Him in eternity. Another hint of the redistribution of power and privilege among those who will govern in eternity is the truth that whoever is faithful with little will be given much. I figure that all the wonderful women of God who have been tossed the crumbs from the smorgasboard table of ministry opportunities like manning the nursery and serving on the church decoration committee, and yet who have been very faithful and gracious in the duties often begrudged them, probably have a good deal of recompense coming their way.
I have no statistics, but offer a few observations. Most of the incredibly strong women I know who have tragically lost their life-mates to disease or accidents don't tend to remarry within a year of their loss. Too bad I can't say the same about the majority of the men in the same position. And as a missionary I have observed that most of the short-term team members and single workers who make it to the field are women. There seems to be a dearth of young men who feel and hear the call enough to leave their car payments and video games in order to obey the great commission. But it's the ladies who seem to be most willing to pay the price. And I won't even go into the subject of morality and comment on the disparity in numbers between which gender dominates the category of failures in ministry due to sexual indiscretions. Yes, my fellow brethren, its the ladies who in my book score the highest in the faithfulness department.
I think there will be a lot of surprising and downright ironic discoveries in heaven. One of the biggies just might be this: those men who looked down on women in ministry leadership in this life could spend eternity looking up to them in the much longer life to come.

A Ten Year Perspective

2011-08-31T22:33:00.001+02:00

The tenth anniversary of 9/11 is quickly approaching. This milestone might cause us to think back to a decade ago and ask one another, "Where were you when the twin towers were hit?" I remember where I was - driving home from teaching an evening session at the bible school in Dhaka, Bangladesh when Dalene called me and told me what was unfolding on CNN. When I hung up the phone, I told my Bangladeshi friend, "I don't know who is responsible, but I can guarantee you when we find out, I pity whoever is going to face the full wrath unleashed by our government!"

It may have been a statement of political reality, but I don't doubt that it was also tinged with bit of patriotic fervor, itching for justice and revenge. So many emotions and emotional reactions were triggered by those events and their images replayed over and over, round the clock. That was a lot of airtime and network spin for a nation to get something ingrained into its collective spirit. It's probably what has blocked us as Americans from really looking at the underlying international politics and history between the West and Islam, and seeing if we can't be diverted from our headlong pursuit of banging heads, bombing civilians and racial profiling to creating a better future of mutual goodwill. Ten years on, we are still disregarding borders, making unilateral decisions and usurping authority just because we can. As long as we get our man. Forget that a thousand more bin Ladens are created for every one we throw off the deck of a navy frigate. As long as our short-term purposes are served and we finally get the last laugh for our humiliation on a bright September morning in Manhattan.

Now we are involved in a full-fledged "eye-for-an-eye" battle royale, that will probably escalate to the world-wide blindness of which Gandhi warned. I fear that the worst blindness will be ours as believers, who have the light of the kingdom to illumine world events but who often see them obscurely through our patriotic, Terminator-esque sunglasses. It's high time to be a believer with an authentic Christian world-view. Ten years after 9/11, what to do is not what protects our American way of life, but what results in the greatest number of lost people to escape the lies of hell in order to find the truth in Jesus.

There is a Muslim world that contains the greatest number of unreached people groups on the planet. That world likes to project itself as the unified "House of Islam." But the reality is this House, left to itself, is hopelessly divided. And Jesus said a house divided cannot stand. We only have to look at what is happening in the Arab world these past nine months to see that there are too many real ethnic, political and tribal differences among the Muslim nations for there to be any coherent and lasting unity. The genocide perpetrated in these Arab republics can also be termed as fratracide - one part of a religious family destroying its own brothers. But as long as the perceived "Christian" West makes enough policies considered to be anti-Islamic, then Muslim identity is galvenized among those who might otherwise be disillusioned. And we lose the chance for a massive worldwide turning of Muslim hearts.

If we could in the next ten years, respond to every future terrorist act of hatred and violence with love, forgiveness and humility, we just might see this divided house become decimated from within. And the result would be many thousands of truly peace-loving people fleeing bondage and embracing freedom in Christ offered by those of His followers who have shown themselves to walk in the ways of their Master.

It's All in How You Look

2011-08-22T20:27:00.000+02:00

Well, we’re in the middle of the month of Ramadan. It’s 95 degrees with no AC today and I can be a bit cranky. But I can’t imagine what is like to take this heat without a drink of water all day. Here in France, even the Muslims who are not so faithful or devout make a point of keeping the fast. It is just as much about being part of community as it is a religious discipline. It is this month in particular that secular France makes a little bit of room for her Muslim citizens. Halal food sections in the big supermarkets expand a bit. And small book displays appear only for the month, where one can buy anything from Moroccan Iftar cookbooks to Qurans in French. It is an interesting time. And it is a significant time to pray for our Muslim neighbors and, hopefully, friends.

As we see religious Muslims take their devotion up a notch or two during Ramadan, it can cause a whole slew of feelings in the average European Jean or American Joe. For some it is curiosity, while for others it is disdain. We love to often break out Isaiah 53 and tsk-tsk under our breath at the futility and sometimes hypocrisy of the Muslim fast.

But our pastor was preaching on the story of the rich young ruler last week. And I noticed a little detail to the story I had missed before. After this religious young buck got through talking to the only perfect One about just how precisely he felt had observed all the Jewish law, Jesus’ demeanor toward him was anything but condescending or judgmental. It says in Mark’s account, that Jesus looked at him and LOVED him. Yeah, I know. Jesus loves everyone. But Jesus is described as particularly loving this young, wealthy religious zealot.

It is a reminder to me that there is something about sincere seekers of God, however misguided they might be, that touches the heart of the Master. Maybe he sees their motives, their heart’s cry, and their passion and fears, more than their outward performance of toeing the line and jumping through the hoops. And as I see Muslims around me caught in the trap and bondage of fasting for merit this month, I can’t help but think that Jesus is looking on them with wide-eyed love even as others look askance.

Jesus, I want Muslims to see in my eyes what this young Jewish leader saw in yours. Pure, affirming love straight from the heart that lights up the eyes and radiates goodwill - even as I speak the truth with them about how to really find the true path to eternal life.

A Legacy Etched in Granite

2010-03-12T21:49:00.000+01:00

My Dad passed away in 1999. His long bout with cancer gave him the opportunity to choose what he wanted written on his gravestone. This is what you will read if you come across his place in Rose Hills Memorial Park in Whittier CA:

Nothing in my hand I bring
Simply to thy cross I cling
Toplady

I always thought Toplady was a just a poet, until recently. I read the history behind one of the most famous hymns of all time, “Rock of Ages. I noticed that it was written by a man named Augustus Toplady. The words on the piece of granite over my father’s grave were taken from the second verse of this well-loved hymn. Toplady was a serious young boy, who by age 12 had started preaching sermons on the street. He started writing hymns by age 14, and was ordained in full time ministry at 22. He was a staunch Calvinist, and disliked the Armenian theology preached by the Wesleys in his day of the wrath of God and the fires of hell. The words to the hymn above were from a poem at the end of an article he wrote in 1776 about resting in the sufficiency of God’s forgiveness. His legacy is one of commitment early in life and of writing and speaking out strongly for the truth he believed in.

It is interesting the similarities between my dad and Augustus Toplady, though I am sure the words he chose were based entirely on the merits of the lyrics and not the author’s life. My dad also had a unique name: Leland B. Good. But how fascinating that my father started preaching on the street corners of San Francisco for Youth For Christ when he was only thirteen. He was called into the ministry as a teenager and began his full-time ministry also at age 22. He too was always one to speak up against anyone he felt had gone doctrinally astray. He poured his life into a seven volume commentary on the New Testament as well as numerous doctrinal books, notes, and teachings. He was a modern day Augustus Toplady.

It impacts me when I visit my dad’s grave, staring down at these words timelessly etched in stone, remembering his legacy. He was a man beyond reproach, of the highest standards and impeccable integrity. And he held us, his family, to the same standards, as well as the churches he pastored. Yet his personally chosen epitaph says more about the truth he lived by than the sometimes stark and rigid boundaries he set up within his life. I can see now that along with enforcing uncompromising standards, he embraced unmerited grace. He worked like Wesley, but he rested like Toplady. He understood that in the end, he had no righteousness of his own. I would think that if anyone had a reason to boast in a righteous life, my dad would fall in the top five or ten percent. But as he anticipated his imminent journey to be with his Master, the final self-analysis of his life was of an empty-handed sinner washed by the blood of Jesus, forever indebted to the power of the cross to make him worthy to stand before the Father.

I don’t know what I want on my gravestone. But I hope it will speak as loudly as do the few short words of Augustus Toplady that my dad chose to speak for him to future generations.

Now and Then

2010-02-10T04:24:00.000+01:00

I turn 45 tomorrow. I never did well in math, but that number doubled is a bit higher than the upper-echelon projections of even the most generous life expectancy charts for a white, middle-class American. So I guess I am at mid-life no matter how you cut it. But since they say now that 50 years old is the “new” 40, I guess you could say, in sort of baby-boomer dog years, I am still thirty-something. Well, at least my waist-size still is.

OK, I am supposed to be now in my prime, they say. Just before heading over-the-hill next year in the general direction of a hip-replacement and prostate problems, I would like to just savor the moment here at the top of the mountain and take in a bit of the view. But as I look around, I am not seeing myself sitting at my own book-signing table, or receiving the majority of a church pastoral vote anywhere. Shoot, I haven’t even been the keynote speaker at a conference, sat on the board of an important organization, or been featured on a podcast. My phone doesn’t even ring most of the time, and that from pastors who I have called four or five times. I guess I better contact Verizon and cancel my call-waiting service. Something is wrong with this snapshot.

There are times in a person’s life when they can feel pretty anonymous. And that can make us feel pretty insignficant, or worse. It's hard to feel that way after reading Matthew 19:30, though. Here is how it reads in the NLT: “But many who are the greatest now will be least important then. And those who seem least important now will be the greatest then.” There are three key words here that I would like to try and highlight the way the Holy Spirit did to my heart when I read that passage a few days ago. I don’t think I can come close, but maybe He’ll zap your spirit with the same bolt of revelation as well.

NOW. It is so easy to let our “now” define us. Especially since our now can appear to be the sum total of all our yesterdays. But even if the math adds up to a big zero, it doesn’t really define us or determine our value. Right now there are those who are at the top of the world and the top of everyone’s short list for the receiving the promotion, invitation, or plaque. Right now there are those whose numbers of Facebook friends or Followers on Twitter are right there in duadruple-digit black and white, dwarfing the pitiful numbers of the have-nots of the social networking world. But Jesus says that right now, right this very moment, there are those who in our view seem important. And this just may be their only moment. This now.

That’s because there is surely coming a THEN. This “then” is not just one future moment in time. Jesus’ then actually refers to all the immeasurable moments of eternity – a non-ending succession of days that stretches forever. So what happens in that then is incredibly important and truly vital. And what Jesus says is there is a huge discrepancy between the fleeting now and the interminable then. In fact, if you’re going to hope for something really good to happen either now or then, you had better put your money on then. Because then will make now seem like so much of absolutely nothing. Jesus said it in another way in another place, “The first will be last and the last will be first.”

That’s not what it SEEMS like now. But that is just what Jesus is trying to point out. All is not as it seems. We place such a high priority on what seems good, seems important, or seems valuable. But to seem is to appear. And we all know that appearances are deceiving. Jesus said that everyone who appears to receive all the applause, accolades and accomplishments now may seem to be important. But He is the only real and accurate Judge of value and worth. So if you are struggling with the lack of trophies on your shelf or the abundance of fourth place finishes in your first half now, remember this. It is not over now, nor even when the next half of life comes to an end. There is coming a then. And it is what the Father thinks and says about us then that will make clear the difference between what and who once seemed important in this now and those who really are valuable, precious and worthy of reward and recognition to Him.

Remember this. When your cell phone doesn’t ring, e has He has already called you. When you are passed over, He has already chosen you. And when you are not recognized, he will acknowledge you before all who have ever lived and reward you with high honor. If not now, wait - just wait until THEN.

Beautiful Jesus

2009-12-19T01:11:00.000+01:00

The son of a founder of Hamas, the radical Muslim terrorist group in Palestine, publicly professes his new faith in Christ. How did this former leaders of Hamas’ youth faction become a born-again believer? He read Jesus’ words in the Gospels “Love your enemies” and was cut to the heart as he observed the contrasting hatred and violence around him.

A former Sunni insurgent in Iraq who persecuted Christians and churches now follows and worships Jesus in one of the same churches he terrorized. Why the radical transformation? He took time to read some of the Gospel literature he had confiscated in order to destroy it. And Jesus came alive to Him out of the Book he previously thought was a pack of lies.

A Muslim university student in Bangladesh was revolutionized by seeing the Jesus film where he watched Christ say to his murderers, “Father forgive them for they know not what they do.” In that moment, Jesus became the greatest person in the world he had ever known. And today, this man is an evangelist on the same campus where he used to belong to a terrorist political group.

All over the world, literally thousands of Muslims are coming to Christ. One of the ways this is happening is as simple as it is profound. They catch a real glimpse of Jesus Christ either in a supernatural dream or through reading the Gospels. And they simply fall in love with Him. Every debate and former belief gives way to the undeniable revelation of how wonderful and beautiful Jesus is.. Many Muslims are finding out that Jesus is more radical than any imam or jihadist they have ever heard of. It is His illogical love and strikingly uncommon lifestyle that completely captivates their hearts and shakes them to their core.

This begs a couple of questions. Are we that in love with Jesus? I mean, yeah, we love Him for sure. But are we unashamedly, head-over-heels infatuated and madly in love with Him like these reborn extremists? I grew up in the Sierra Nevada mountains. Whenever I go back to visit, I think to myself, “Wow, I never realized that I lived in a place so beautiful and pristine.” The beauty was always there. I had just forgotten to pause long enough to look up and take it all in. It is never too late to be captivated by beauty. And frankly, our former Muslim brothers and sisters are a gift to remind us of how awe-strikingly attractive is Jesus. His love for others, His gentleness with children, His passion for justice, His value of women, His compassion for the poor and sin-bound, the devotion of His power and position for the uplifting of others – these vignettes and more have so powerfully attracted the searching heart for centuries with inexhaustible drawing power. And those of us who grew up with Jesus first revealed through flannel-graphs and countless Easter plays and Christmas pageants can ho-hum just a little too easily at what literally takes the breath away of others less privileged. It’s time for some of us to fall in love with Jesus all over again.

Second, these same Muslims who are just beginning to see Jesus so clearly also take His commands quite literally. After all, it is hHis radical teaching of love and forgiveness that broke the powerful hold of Islam on their lives in the first place. Could we second and third-generation evangelicals be inspected and found wanting? It was Gandhi who said to believers, “I love your Jesus Christ, but I don't like your Christians”. It is not traditions or church culture that will ensure that we will love and follow Jesus in a manner that is worthy of His name. Actually, the more steeped in history, the more far removed we can become from a first hand revelation of a real and glorified Christ. Even the apostle John knew the incarnated Christ, the suffering Christ and the risen Christ, but he needed a brand new revelation to understand Christ glorified.

Jesus said those who are entitled to wear the name of His disciple will first deny themselves, take up their cross, die daily, forsake family, give up all they have, count the cost, and hold to His teaching. Some extremists from other faiths are drawn by a love from Jesus that is as unrelenting and otherworldly as their agenda is radical . If they do not see this in us, we may be guilty of causing these little ones to stumble. And I for one am not keen on having my neck fitted for a millstone. Today’s believers across the face of the globe where they encounter Muslims from all walks of life need to be keepers of the true Christian faith – cheek-turners and enemy-lovers who are marked by radical forgiveness, humility, and gentleness. Otherwise our example can be horribly out of sync with the Master’s teaching, creating a dissonance that causes those who first drew near to listen to cover their ears and just walk away.

Star of morning, Star of night

2009-11-24T07:27:00.001+01:00

As fall has progressed, my normal morning prayer time begins in increasingly greater darkness. As I go out to our living room to walk and pray, the first thing I do is usually stub my toe on something left on the floor. But after that, I like to look outside through a little window at the top of our front door. The window faces the east, and eventually, I get a great view of the sunrise. But that’s not what I see first as I peer out into the early morning blackness. There is a quite brilliant star that sits just above the point where the sun will crest the horizon within the ensuing hour. It is quite interesting because it outshines by far any other stars that might still be left over from the nighttime display. This star quite literally captivates my attention, as it dances and sparkles brightly. I find myself staring and admiring it, curious as to how this star is able to shine so brightly well into the dawn, as the sky begins to lighten with the approaching sun. I realized that I was getting a glimpse of what the Bible calls the Morning Star. The physical morning star is in actuality the planet Venus shining so powerfully. I sensed the Lord say to me that there was great significance in this imagery for me, and I began to search the scriptures for what truths God might be speaking through this natural and spontaneous early morning object lesson. Let me share with you a few things I found and what profound meaning they have for me prophetically.

In Revelation 22:16, Jesus says to us directly, “I, Jesus, am the bright and morning star.” Jesus as the Morning Star reveals much about who He intends to be to His people as we get closer to His return. Following this description is the verse “The spirit and the bride say “Come” (v17) and “Yes I am coming soon! Amen! Come Lord Jesus!” (v20) The Morning Star speaks of the end of night and the soon return of our Lord Jesus and his coming kingdom. Scripture is clear in its imagery that in the end times evil will grow worse and there will be an increase of wickedness. It can seem that as darkness increases, we wonder where is God in all of this? For anyone who has suffered through sickness, pain or insomnia all night, it can seem like the surrounding darkness will never give way to the sunrise. We can feel that way now. With shamelessness, public flaunting of evil, and the disintegration of morality and purity all around us, it can seem like the night can’t get any blacker. But in the same way that my eyes were drawn to and fixated on that star, He desires that our eyes be fixated not on the depth or the length of the darkness, but on His brightness and glory.

Focusing on the morning star in the midst of great darkness is what the church of Thyatyra was chastised for not doing. (Rev. 2:26) They had lots of outreach and faith and love for their common man, but they tolerated a spirit of adultery in their midst. They had been compromised by the darkness and had slipped into drunkenness and immorality. But for those who overcome that lapse into participating in the darkness, there is the promise of being given both power over the nations and the Morning Star. (v. 28) This is the promise of spiritual authority and power that comes from increasing levels of faithfulness and consecration to Him in the midst of a powerful seducing spirit. And it is a promise of a deep and intimate relationship with Jesus for those who will stand strong against the spirit of compromise during the dark days of immorality that precede Jesus’ return. We must keep ourselves fixated and focused on our Bridegroom, doing whatever it takes to stay alert, ready, and lovesick for His return and chaste and pure in preparation for meeting Him, even as others lose heart in the lingering night and slip into drunkenness, partying and uncontrolled anger (see Luke 12:45 and Matt 25:48)

But when Jesus as the Morning Star is prophetically revealed and highlighted to our spirits, it is an indication that we are drawing closer to the end of darkness and the coming of the dawn. Much like when the morning star shines brightest and begins to rise higher above the horizon like a herald announcing the coming day. 2 Peter 1:19 says “We have the prophetic word confirmed, which you do well to heed as a light that shines in a dark place and Christ the morning star rises in our hearts.” The prophetic revelation to our hearts that the darkness is soon giving way to the coming of the day of the Lord is like the appearance of the morning star on the horizon and its rising just ahead of the sun. The Holy Spirit is moving on hearts and giving them a sense of urgency regarding the soon coming of the Lord. The bride will hear what the Spirit is saying and join Him in calling out, “Even so, come quickly Lord Jesus!”

One other thing to note about the morning star. As the sky begins to brighten, if you look away from the star, it is easy to lose sight of it and not be able to spot it again at it rises. You have to keep your eyes on it, or you lose sight of it.

What God is saying to me through all of this imagery is:

1) He is coming soon. It is time to be ready and to be watching and waiting for His soon return.

2) We must keep our eyes fixed on Him. He wants to captivate our attention, our focus, our desires and our time. This is a very crucial kairos moment we are entering. It is not a time to frivol away what is precious and valuable (our time, affection and resources) on cheap and trivial things (i.e. media, possessions, self-pampering, etc. and the chasing after these things)

3) The prophetic rising of the morning star in our hearts means we must realign our priorities, pursuits and passions to match what His are for these unique end-times (winning the lost, discipling the nations, bringing justice to the oppressed, being consecrated and intimate with Him in unprecedented measure)

4) It is time to be His bridegroom, fixated on Him, madly in love with Him alone and captivated more and more by His beauty and not lured by the false beauty of counterfeit attractions.

5) It will be easy to lose sight of where Jesus is as the day of tribulation approaches. Those who have trained their eyes on Him will have the confidence and authority to walk among the confusion and devastation with a sense of His real Presence and what He is saying and doing. Those who did not buy oil for their lamps in the quiet place of intimacy before the trial will long to know this intimacy, but it cannot be bought so quickly. NOW is the time to press in to Him in intimacy and uncommon consecration as never before.

Second Mile

2009-10-07T01:24:00.000+02:00

OK, so I admit it. I am at mid-life. But instead of having a crisis, I am having a catharsis. A deep purging of my soul's desires and motivations. I look around me and I really don't want to be a statistic. I want to finish this race well. God has been dealing with me about Jesus' command that we are to go a second mile if asked. Though this passage is about mistreatment and persecution, I think there is a broader application as well. I began to realize that I may not be able to physically or emotionally handle being forced to go one mile, let alone be able to fulfill the command to go two. And it may not be an evil oppressor that is forcing me to go father then required. It may be my Lord asking me. If God asked me to reach a tribe high in the Himalayas, would I not only be willing, but physically would I be able? If it is His plan for me to remain active in full-time ministry until I am 80 years old, so that I can help bring in the end-time harvest of souls, am I shortchanging His plan because of poor eating and exercise habits today? I don't want to back into eternity by default. I want to be one of those Overcomers in Revelation 2 and 3, going from strength to strength, just hitting my fullest stride as I cross the finish line. I want to have stamina and longevity so I can hear the "well done". I want to be around for my wife and kids and grandkids for that matter and not end up in the emergency room because of my poor choices. But it won't happen because I wish it to. I have to set and obey strict boundaries in my life. I want to live a life of uncommon consecration, set apart for Him so His anointing rests heavy enough on me that others I touch can be set free. I need to cultivate deeper and deeper intimacy and partnership with my wife. I have to get on the treadmill daily, do the ab crunches and say no to overeating. I have to set the alarm earlier to spend more time to face the onslaught of evil all around me. I have to develop my ministry skills to not fall into complacency and professionalism. Going the second mile is more than a decision of a moment. It is the preparation of a life and an implementation of a lifestyle. I want to be able to go the second mile. To wherever He says, doing whatever He asks.

Help, My Fall Has Been Hijacked!

2009-09-23T05:32:00.000+02:00

Am I mistaken, or are there still thirty-eight (count 'em, as of this writing on Sept 22nd) shopping days until Halloween? And where, pray tell, have all the Halloween super-stores come from? I turned around and they have suddenly appeared on every corner like an orange-and-black Starbucks-esque franchise taking over the retail world. I had envisioned a more uplifting replacement for the shopping space that the local Circuit City once occupied. Now instead of buying an Apple I can bob for apples.

OK, I know Halloween has increasingly become a bigger and bigger event over the years. But in my memory, only Christmas used to occupy such a nostalgic and important place in American culture as to justify a whole season dedicated to the event. Don't we all actually need a whole month or more to write all the Christmas cards, attend all the Christmas parties, and buy enough gifts for every cousin and great-aunt in our families? But more than that, the spectacle of the long Christmas season is a testimony to the greatness and importance of the One for whom it is all about.

But this black cats and jack-o-lantern stuff in every store starting in August to me is making a statement. It's more than money hungry retailers trying to pull one over on naive shoppers, milking them for as much cash as possible as early as possible. Just let them try some month-long glitzy and attractive marketing blitz to promote Mother-in-Law Day and the consumers still aren't gonna bite. No, Halloween has taken up a huge place in the collective consciousness of post-modern America, and retailers are just capitalizing on a movement. It has become the new anti-religious holiday of choice for non-religious people. And it is being promoted, celebrated and planned for in a way that is disproportional to the actual value and meaning of the day.

Fall used to be about football, falling leaves, harvest, Thanksgiving, and an oh so very small part of the end of October. It was "oh, yeah, we need to sow Suzy a costume for Halloween coming up on Friday and stop by the store for a bag of candy in case some trick-or-treaters ring the bell." But it has morphed into the Holiday that Hijacked Fall in 3-D. It's goblins and witches and horror in your face for weeks on end. And it really is silly what we have allowed it to become.

Drive-by evangelism

2009-09-11T02:22:00.000+02:00

Dalene tells of a youth leader she knew when she was in high school who publicly boasted that he wanted to date a thousand girls before he married. The look of disgust as she tells it reveals how it made her feel about him. And how about the poor girls who found out they were number 101 or 845 on one man’s notch-filled dating belt? I am not sure if he ever filled his quota, but there must have been a whole host of emotional casualties in this version of drive-by dating. Why does it sound kind of disgusting? Because it treats people as numbers. And it lacks in genuine concern for developing authentic relationships which take commitment of time and investment of soul.
Years ago there was a young woman who married an eighty year old billionaire and got him to will his entire estate to her. After his death, the man’s family fought this decision in court, rightly feeling that this woman was not genuinely in love with him but only after his money. No one likes to feel used. And we are all deeply suspicious of people who appear to have hidden agendas in their pursuit of people. Certainly no one mistakes that a telemarketer on the phone is interested in anything else than scoring a sale.
I have been thinking a lot lately about motives in missions and especially how it may feel to be on the other end of evangelistic endeavor. If missionaries, pastors and church members do not have as their number one goal the genuine love and care for any unbelieving person, then we may be blind to the fact that, to others, we come off like that youth leader or gold-digging heiress. We can pursue people, but if we do not continue to invest our lives and time in them once they are “caught” then we are guilty of drive-by evangelism. And the world has every right to be disgusted.

The End of Summer

2009-08-28T06:50:00.000+02:00

I know there is an official date on the calendar designated as the first day of fall. But according to my personal indicators, two things signaled the official end of summer in our household. One, our daughter went back to school. Third grade, to be exact. New shoes, school supplies, immunizations (because we came this year from overseas), backpacks and sack lunches. It's a fall tradition.

And second, I went to the final home game of our local triple A baseball team, the Fresno Grizzlies. Summer is over when the lights go out at Chuckchansi Park. It's a sentimental night. And everyone would just like an old fashioned win under our belts as we head into a season of raking leaves, chopping wood, and hearing about Brett Favre's ninth retirement comeback as well as PETA, the Humane Society, and junior high girls picketing every Philadelphia Eagle's game. Everything surrounding this game was phenomenal. My guests, the mascot, the on-field entertainment between innings (http://twitter.com/dragkings), atmosphere, weather - it was a perfect evening. All except the game. It went 12 innings. My team had the bases loaded in the bottom of the 11th with one out. A simple sacrifice fly ball would have done the trick. Imagine, you make an out and win the game. Only in baseball. Only...no luck. Three guys were out there waiting to cross home plate and send everyone home winners. But they all got stranded. And so did the collective hopes of ten thousand spectators.

Being stranded reminds me of the situation facing many missionaries who are in the middle of their four year term serving overseas. The financial crisis has hit here at home with a thud like a wicked curve ball, catching everyone off guard. Most missionaries are locked into a pretty tight budget and depend on every dollar that was pledged to not only get them to the field, but to keep them there. So when people are unable to go to bat for them, it is like getting stranded. The season is not over, but the loss takes the wind out of your sails for the last games remaining to be played.

Think about it. Most missionaries that are supported don't need a grand slam or even a base hit. Just hanging in there and trying to make contact with the ball can keep the game going. And it leaves room for us all to be winners. If you're hitting it hard financially, and you have made a promise to a missionary, you may tempted to default to a pinch runner or forfeit the game. But stay in the batter's box. You just might get a break. God can keep it going well into extra innings if we just hang in there and don't hang up our cleats to early. There's some guys on base who are counting on us to bring them home winners.