My Church

I've been doing a lot of "church shopping" lately. I had some pretty tough criteria and couldn't quite find something to measure up. And I know that when I settle for a church that's not what I'm really looking for, I end up just sleeping in on Sunday.

A few weeks ago, I found a church that I already love. It's LifeBridge Church in Longmont and it's just what I was looking for! Here are some things I love about it:

Worship: Worship is a priority at LifeBridge. They don't skimp on songs at all. It's a nice long set of worship songs. And they pick very God-centered songs, not the me-centered ones, which I can only assume is intentional. Plus, they're not flashy with roving lights and fog machines, which I find distract me from worship. Since I really don't like sermons, worship is the most important aspect of the Sunday service for me...so this has been great.

Size: One of the things I wanted was a larger church. One, for more opportunities to connect and find the small group type things I'm looking for. And two, because I love the feeling of worshipping with a big group of people. LifeBridge has 4 weekend services and I'd say the auditorium holds about 1,000 people, so it's a good size church. BUT...sometimes you can get lost in large churches. Somehow, LifeBridge has the sense of community that feels more like a small church. It's a great balance. And with three Sunday services, I can make one trip and go to my adult class, serve in Sunday School, and go to the main church service.

Welcoming Environment: Some churches you go to, you feel like it's hard to even find someone to talk to about your questions. Other churches, you get swarmed by 15 people at once and it's overwhelming. At LifeBridge, there were plenty of people around for me to talk to, and they were very friendly and welcoming when I did...but no one bombarded me. I also went to an adult class and everyone was super nice and friendly. It was just the right level of genuine friendliness and not scary over-friendliness.

Communion: Communion is done weekly. That's not something I've seen often at non-liturgical churches, but it's the one thing I did prefer about liturgical churches. So I love that!

Sermons: As I said above, I don't like sermons. So what I like about them is that they're pretty short. Mostly because they pack in so much worship, there's not as much time left for the sermon. I also like that there's no fill-in-the-blank outline provided. I hate those - and I never use them. To me they make the sermon about listening for key words the preacher thinks are most important, rather than listening for how God is speaking to you through the sermon in the ways that are most important for your life. And the sermons are applicable, which is great.

Adult Classes: I mentioned above the class I went to. I only have gone once but it is just what I'm looking for - genuine discussion. Like - we got through 6 questions in an hour kind of discussion. You know it's a good question when it yields that kind of discussion. It was interesting, stimulating, made me think differently, and there were donuts. Donuts always help sway my vote. :)

Last night I also went to a new thing they're trying out for the summer, called Anchor. Anchor is for 18-30 year olds so I just barely made the cut. Anchor was great because it was not a singles' mixer, as many 20-something groups end up being at churches. No one checked me out - in fact there were several married women at my table. We worshiped a bunch (I told you that's a high value!), we had a short message, and then we had a follow-up discussion to the message that asked real, connecting questions. I knew when I walked in and saw round tables instead of rows of chairs, I was gonna like this. LifeBridge seems to get discussion and relationships in a way many churches don't.

Community: LifeBridge has "neighborhood pastors" - many of the pastors on staff are assigned to a section of the community - one of them is Loveland. So I'm working with my neighborhood pastor to get plugged into a small group here in town. Since the church is almost 30 minutes away, it's great that they have something for us northern folk - and that they're strategic about it. That's a little slower going as the Loveland neighborhood pastor just started in this area, so he's pulling everything together right now. But I'm confident, based on everything else I've experienced at LifeBridge, that I'll find something that's a great fit.

LifeBridge is also involved in the community with mentors for at-risk kids. And they have a foster and adoptive parents ministry. They have a ministry called "glocal" - focusing on both global and local outreach.

I love that there's this great balance of worship (connection to God), relationships (connection to other Christians), and service (connection to the world around us). I'm super excited to call it my church family!

Persecution

I saw this link on Facebook recently, to an article that listed "evidence" that President Obama is hostile toward Christians.

I saw it more as a list of ways Christians aren't treated preferentially above other religions anymore.

And I'm OK with that.

Let me make one thing clear: I absolutely believe that Christianity is the only path to God. But let me make another thing clear: I don't believe legislating Christian morals is a way to save anyone...wouldn't that mean we're saved by works? Christianity is about a change of heart that happens when Jesus transforms our lives. And no one is going to have their heart changed for Jesus because gay marriage is illegal.

So, that being established: I think what Christians often see as government persecution is really us losing the ability to oppress other faiths.

Here was my response on the link: "It just bugs me when American Christians get all bent out of shape about the 'persecution' that occurs in America. It is not persecution when Obama doesn't participate in the National Day of Prayer. It would be persecution if Obama sent the police out to arrest and imprison anyone who prayed on the National Day of Prayer. It is not persecution when Target won't say "Merry Christmas." I think what we're really upset about isn't hostility or persecution or preferential treatment of anyone else, it's that we're not getting the preferential treatment anymore. Persecution is when the government will not let you practice your own religious beliefs without fear of punishment. MAYBE the whole employers must cover abortion thing goes into that. But even that is a stretch, in my opinion. Seems to me persecution in that case would be the government limiting the number of children you can legally have (like China did), thus forcing you to get an abortion or break the law if you get pregnant after that number. In my opinion, Obama has done nothing to infringe on my personal rights as a Christian, and this article hasn't given any evidence that he has. Therefore, I don't consider him hostile at all."

Someone responded, noting that Obama manages to host a Ramadan dinner every year. I don't see why that's a problem. He's not forcing anyone else to observe Ramadan. When did it become hostility or persecution toward Christians that other people have freedom to celebrate other faiths?

We live in a country that was, at least in theory, built on religious freedom. But Christianity was emphasized, at least on a verbal level. So we as Christians have gotten used to a certain standard where we expect Christianity to be touted above other religions. And as this supremacy has gradually slipped out of our grasp (and not all under Obama), we feel we're being persecuted.

I think we need to put on our big girl panties and get over it. We are so spoiled we don't even know what persecution means. And we're belittling the suffering of people who do.

One

I've been reading Ephesians in my slow, reflective fashion since July. I often read the Bible through a very self-focused lens. But with Ephesians, you really can't do that. It is so much about the Church.

Chapters 2 and 3 outline four key goals of the church. (At least, the way I read it.) These are amazing things we can accomplish as the body of Christ.

Goal 1: Put hostility to death

Reading Ephesians 2:16 on its own might lend itself to self-focus. But in context, Paul is writing about the former barrier between Jews and Gentiles. Jesus died to put to make these two groups into one new one: the Church. And he has used this new, united body to put to death hostility. Sadly, this is not something the church is known for. (More on that here.) But what an incredible calling!

Goal 2: Be a dwelling in which God lives

I love this one, from Ephesians 2:21-22. With Christ as our cornerstone, God is building us together to be his holy temple. You see, I've always subscribed to the idea that as individuals, Christians are God's temples. 1 Corinthians 6 talks about this. But here in Ephesians the idea is taken further. In our unity, we are being built into a dwelling for God's Spirit. What an honor!

Goal 3: Make known the manifold wisdom of God

Ephesians 3:10 specifically states that God's intent was to reveal this wisdom through the Church. Wow! All the rulers and authorities - not just on earth, but this verse says in the heavenly realms - will see God's wisdom through the Church. Did you catch that? We're not just a glimpse of God to this world. At its best, the Church is showing the heavenly authorities something about God that they can't see otherwise. Our reach is farther than we think!

Goal 4: Bring God glory

Ephesians 3:21 concludes a prayer for the Ephesians by bringing glory to God "in the church." The Westminister Catechism says that the chief end of man is to glorify God and enjoy him forever. But it's not just man. The Church itself can be a praise offering, a way to bring glory to God.

Why does the church often fall short of these four goals? Well for one thing, it's made up of imperfect people like me. But Ephesians 4:3-6 talks about unity and notes that there is one body, one Spirit, one hope, one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father.

I feel like if Paul were writing a letter to the American church, rather than the one in Ephesus, he would include something along these lines. Maybe expound upon it. With the most conservative estimates for number of protestant denominations being around 20,000, we've sure learned to focus on the differences. (Bonus if you can name all 20,000.)  In our church's pastoral search it came up that one candidate didn't believe in a literal seven day creation. One woman at our church strongly declared that she didn't know how he could call himself a Christian if he didn't believe in a literal seven day creation. That's certainly not focusing on the essentials!

But unity happens when we focus on the essentials. And when unity happens, these four goals will fall into place. Hostility fades away, and we join beautifully together as a temple that shines God's wisdom even into the heavenly realms, bringing him glory.

Glory

Here's a thought from Ephesians 1:11-12: God chose us to reflect his glory.

And according to 2 Corinthians 3:18, we do this with unveiled faces. We shine for Jesus as we become more like him.

There are people who believe that what really matters is that you're a good person. That's how you earn God's favor.

But not only is that untrue (God's love is unconditional, and only Jesus can earn us eternal life), it's a faulty way to look at why we live the way we live.

If I make good choices, but do it for selfish motivations, I might be considered a "good person." But really, I'm like a Pharisee, doing good to show off for others. It's all about me. What people think of me. 

We were made for so much more than that. God chose us to reflect his glory. Our good deeds can shine before men so that they can glorify God. (See Matthew 5:16.) I can use good deeds to have others say, "oooh, look at her! What a nice person she is!"

Or I can use good deeds for something so much bigger, so much greater—to show off the glory of God. Those same people ought to be able to look at my life and say, "Oooh, what a picture of God's love for me!" And then they want to know God just a little bit more. How much greater my act will be if I do it for God's glory?!

My prayer is that God will gradually remove the me out of my motivation. My pastor spoke last week about motivations for serving God. One that he didn't mention is the motivation of showing God off. I want to live in such a way that with an unveiled face, I boldly shine a brilliant reflection of God. I want to be a mere conduit for others to see his goodness.

Dating

When you go through a divorce, you get a lot of people asking you if you've met somebody new. Pretty quickly, this question comes up. Even before your divorce is final. Here's my answer.

One thing I knew for sure when Dan and I decided to get a divorce—I wasn't interested in any kind of relationship until the divorce was final. As long as I was married on paper, I was going to honor that status.

The DivorceCare curriculum recommends you wait one year to date for every four years you were married. For me, this means one year—October. But they also have a checklist of how to tell when you're "ready," and by those standards I was ready a while ago. I think one thing DivorceCare doesn't really acknowledge in general as they talk about healing is that healing looks different when you were struggling in your marriage, as opposed to being surprised by an affair when you thought everything was fine. Much like losing a loved one to a long battle with cancer vs. a sudden car accident, you grieve differently.

All that to say, I'm neither waiting for October to be open to dating, nor am I planning to start actively looking to date in October.

One of my friends asked me if I'd found any possibly dates, and I said no. He said, "Do you have your fishing pole out?"

"Of course not!" I responded. "I'm the fish! I'm not fishing!"

I've done a lot of initiating in my life. I learned the hard way that this set me up to be the leader in my marriage, and that's not the way I want any possible future relationships to be. So I'm not planning to put out any fishing poles—ever. I'm open to whatever God may have for me, and if that means a life of singleness, I really am OK with that. I've finally realized something I never realized in my pre-married single life (aka my hunt for a husband era): I am a whole person. I don't need to find my "other half." I am complete in Christ.

But if God plans for me to eventually date and even remarry, I'm OK with that too. But I'm not seeking it out. I'm seeking the kingdom of God and a righteous life. I'm seeking to be like Jesus and fall more in love with him each day. And if God brings along a man to do this alongside of me, I'm open to that. But it won't be that I "found" a man, because I'm not looking. I will not set the precedent that I'm the pursuer, the fisher, the leader. God is the one who's going to bring a man with enough initiative to pursue me if that's God's plan for me.

Lifelong

When I was 4, we had monthly memory verses in Sunday School. One month, the verse was "Children obey your parents in the Lord." My mom liked to remind me of it whenever I was disobeying her.

After that month was up and we were learning a different verse, I was disobeying and my mom reminded me of the verse. But, sharp little girl that I was, I responded, "Mom, that was last month's verse."

Somehow, I got the impression that I only had to apply the verse of the month.

But, thanks I'm sure to my mom's response (I don't remember it, but I'm sure she corrected my misunderstanding), and to general growth over the past 24 years, I've come to realize that living for God is a lifelong thing, not a flavor-of-the-day thing.

Now, there are certainly times in our lives when God is trying to teach us one particular thing. And since I am often kind of dense on these matters, those times usually consist of a lot of sources all echoing the same message until it gets through my skull.

But once God has adequately gotten the message through and I've begun to apply it, that doesn't mean I drop what I've learned when the next message comes along. And that continues to be the challenge. Even though I know now that God's Word is living and active all throughout my life, somehow God seems to have to remind me of the same lessons over and over.

I was reading some old journal entries today and noticed that some of the entries, though a year or two a part, closely echoed each other. Others echoed things I'm learning now, that I thought were new and novel.

The bad news is that this will always be the case, as long as I'm on this earth. I'll be a work in progress 'til the day I die, constantly learning and relearning what it means to live for God.

The good news is, the more abide in Christ and let his Spirit flow through me, the more his fruits and work just flows out of me. This is what I delight in.

Jesus, let me live for you all my life.

Tear Down The Walls

I've been reading Ephesians lately. Chapter 2:11-18 talks about two groups: the uncircumcised and those who call themselves "the circumcision." While the uncircumcised were formerly excluded, in Christ they have been brought near to God.

Verses 15b-18 says: "[Jesus'] purpose was to create in himself one new man out of the two, thus making peace, and in this one body to reconcile both of them to God through the cross, by which he put to death their hostility. He came and preached peace to you who were far away and peace to those who were near. For through him we both have access to the Father by one Spirit."

What struck me is that I always thought Jesus died for our sins. And he did. But not exclusively. According to this passage, his death also put to death hostility between the "us" and the "them" groups. He tore down the "dividing wall of hostility" (v. 14). He died to bring peace.

Which got me to thinking: how often have we Christians just built that wall of hostility right back up? This passage makes it clear that everyone has access to God through the Spirit through Christ's death. But how often do we say (or imply by the way we speak out against things), "Jesus died for everyone—but not you."

"Not you—you're gay."

"Not you—you're a Democrat."

"Not you—you smoke cigarettes."

"Not you—you have tattoos and piercings."

"Not you—you don't like the King James Version."

Through our actions and our stances, sometimes we preach hatred, not peace.

Now, I want to be clear: being uncircumcised isn't a sin, where as some things we stand up against are. Some. But if sin blocks us from access to God through Jesus' death on the cross, well shoot. What did he even die for?

So, if even sinners like me have access to God through Christ, why would we imply that certain kinds of sinners don't?

I'll freely admit that I implied this all over the place in high school. I preached to others about faith a lot, but it was in the context of pointing judgmental fingers at them when they swore. I never would've said that I believe people who swear don't have access to God through Christ, because I didn't believe that. But my actions communicated that to the very people I was trying to reach.

There's a balance between standing up for what's right and acting as if Jesus doesn't love people who aren't doing those things. But the bottom line is: Jesus never asked anyone to clean up their lives until after they developed a relationship with him. We don't need to fix ourselves first. We can't. We bring ourselves to Jesus and he fixes us. Throughout our whole life. He doesn't stop working on us until we reach the pearly gates.

Made Alive

When I was a kid, a car ran into our yard overnight and crashed into a small tree we had in the front yard. The trunk of the tree was only a few inches in diameter, so it snapped right in half, only connected by a small piece of bark on one side.

To my recollection, we never figured out who the driver (presumably a drunk one) was. We just woke up to see the tire tracks across our lawn and our broken tree. (Although since I did have my own private eye detective agency at the time, I dutifully measured the tire tracks and looked for other clues.)

Many would've declared the tree dead. Dug up the roots and planted a new one. But not my mom. She got this special tree tape and wrapped it up back together like an ace bandage on a sprained wrist. (Well, really more like an ace bandage on a severed leg...) Then she tied 3 ropes to the upper part of the broken tree and rooted them to the ground for stability.

It took a while, but eventually the ropes could go. And then one day, the tape could go, too. The tree had grown back together. Although it seemed like any hope for life had been taken by that mystery drunk driver, my mom put in the work needed to make life prevail. And for the near 20 years that have followed, the tree has thrived.

I was reminded of this tree when I read Ephesians 2:1-5 last week. It talks about how we were dead in our sins. But God, because of his great love, "made us alive with Christ even when we were dead in transgressions."

When it seemed like hope was gone, like we were dead beyond dead, God found a way to bring us life. This resurrected tree at my parents' house has become a beautiful picture of the life God gave us when he sent Jesus to die on another tree.

Looking at the tree today, you'd never know it had nearly died. The tire tracks in the grass have long since grown out and been mowed over, and the tree looks just like its matching one across the driveway.

This is my challenge. I am alive in Christ. I know that he rescued me from death. But the question is, do I stand firm as one who has been made alive? Or when people look at me, can they see a little bit of death still in me? A crack in the bark here, a dead leaf there?

We're alive! Let's show the world what new life looks like!

Trust Me

A few days ago I felt like God was speaking directly to my heart, two simple words: Trust me.

These words came specifically in regards to a situation that has brought me a lot of frustration. And although those instructions have been very hard to follow for me in the past (didn't I just blog about letting God have control of my life...and how unnatural that is for me?), it has been easy this time. Maybe because I heard the direction so clearly.

Then on Sunday two more simple words came to my heart: Just wait. Not as in the patience I blogged about last week. Not as in "just wait and you'll get what you want." More like when someone says, "Just wait until you see what I have planned for your birthday." Or, "Just wait until you see what I got you for Christmas." The kind of just wait that means someone has something planned for you that is so exciting for them as the giver, and will be exciting for you to receive.

So those two phrases have been running in my head since then. And it's helped me so much with patience and trust and knowing that God has a plan for me. I was thinking about Psalm 139 where it says, "All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

And that verse coming to mind, coupled with the two phrases, has brought me to this realization: God is a better writer than me. 


I've always loved that verse in Psalm 139 because I liked that it implies God is a writer. I could identify with that. But it was only yesterday that it hit me that he's a better writer than I am. It should've been obvious, perhaps, but I guess I just didn't think about it.

All my hopes and plans and daydreams are nothing compared to what God wrote in his book before one of my days came to be. I don't know what he has written. But I'm pretty sure he's excited to show me, in his time. And I'm excited to see, in his time. Because I know it's so much better than anything I've written in my head.

Just wait.

Finishing Well

Lately I've been thinking about finishing well in the faith. I spent June reflecting on Philippians 3 and things like this stuck out to me: "I want to know Christ and the power of his resurrection, and the fellowship of sharing in his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, and so somehow to attain the resurrection from the dead."

And this one: "I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."

And then I launched into Ephesians yesterday and was struck by the fact that God has given me "every spiritual blessing."

After reflecting on that one, I kept thinking of the song "Give Me Jesus" by Fernando Ortega. I downloaded it and have been listening to it a lot.

So often my mind is consumed by "earthly things" as Philippians 3 calls them. But when it comes down to it, Jesus is every spiritual blessing I need. I am so complete in him. I just want to run toward him, to know him, to "gain Christ and be found in him." To be more like him. To reflect him to everyone around me.

I don't mean to sound cheesy. I'm just more in love with Jesus than ever. The leader of my DivorceCare group talked about how post-divorce was such a rich, sweet time for her faith...and that is so true for me, too.

Tonight I was listening to "Untitled Hymn (Come to Jesus)" by Chris Rice, and aside from the contradiction in the title (I never understood how he can call it untitled and then put a title in parentheses), I was near tears as he sang the last verse:

And with your final heartbeat

Kiss the world goodbye,

And go in peace, and laugh on glory's side

And fly to Jesus

Fly to Jesus

Fly to Jesus and live

It made me think of this assignment I had in college to write a biography about a Christian role model. The rule was they had to be dead or "close to dead" so that we knew they finished well.

This made me think about Asa (I know, my mind is quite the path to follow), a king in the Bible (1 Kings 15; 2 Chronicles 14) who loved and honored God almost his whole life. The Bible says his heart was "fully committed to the Lord all his life."

Except then in the 36th year of his reign, a battle is looming and he makes a treaty with another king instead of relying on God. In his 39th year he falls ill and the Bible says he did not seek help from the Lord, but only from his physicians. Two years later, he was dead. A lifetime of following God. 5 years of turning aside, and that's how he went out. Asa didn't finish well.

But someday on my deathbed, whether that's tomorrow or in 70 years, I want to be singing "Just give me Jesus." I want to fly to Jesus. I want to always be as in love with him as I am right this moment. And in between now and then, I don't want to let anything distract me from loving and honoring him.

Individualized Faith

I've blogged before about how I think Jeremiah 29:11 is overused and more importantly, mis-used. And one thing I didn't really get into in that blog that is a common misuse of a lot of verses is the way we individualize things.

Over and over the church is addressed as a body. It begins in the Old Testament with the covenant with the nation of Israel. It continues with Jesus' teachings to the masses. And Paul's letters are mostly written to entire church bodies, rather than individuals. If the English language had a differentiation between the singular and plural "you," we'd probably recognize this more easily.

But there's only one form of "you," so we easily take verses like Jeremiah 29:11 personally, as if each of us is the only one that matters. A verse that was meant to bring ultimate hope to a nation is used to say God is going to give us as individuals hope and a future. But what we don't consider is that for most of the people who heard that message from Jeremiah, there was no personal hope, no personal future other than being in exile. 70 more years, they had in store. Which meant most of them died before this "hope and a future" ever came to light. But that was OK. Because it wasn't about some individual 40 year-old guy who'd die a captive. It was about God's redemptive plan for his people.

The patriarchs got it. Hebrews 11 lists men and women of faith and says in verse 13: "All these people were still living by faith when they died. They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance. And they admitted that they were aliens and strangers on earth."

They obeyed God because they knew it wasn't about them. God's promises to them weren't about what they as individuals would get. It was about God's grand plan for the world. Later in Hebrews 11:39-40, it says, "These were all commended for their faith, yet none of them received what had been promised.  God had planned something better for us so that only together with us would they be made perfect."

It's not about you. It's not about me. It's not even about the church body that exists today. It's about everyone who calls God their Father, those who have passed on and those who will succeed us.

It's not that faith isn't personal. It is. I'm so thankful that I can come before God as an individual, with all of my weaknesses and baggage that I don't want anyone else to see.

It's just that there's so much more to it than that. Limiting our view of God's plan to just our own lives is like watching one minute of the Star Wars movies and thinking you've seen the whole thing. (Confession: I did fall asleep numerous times so I can't say I've seen the whole thing. But, it being an iconic and well-loved series, I thought it was an apt metaphor.)

Now I don't mean to come across as condescending. I'm not exaggerating when I say that I am thinking only of myself at least 90% of the time. When I read the Bible, or just in general, it's all about me. But I think that's a problem.

I've also been guilty of complaining about the church. (Though I've also said nice things about the body of Christ.) And with the viral video "Why I Hate Religion, But Love Jesus," fuel has only been added the fire of this anti-church yet pro-Jesus subculture. Believe me, I've been there. But recently some lyrics in the song "The Church" by Derek Webb really struck me.

'Cause I haven't come for only you

But for my people to pursue

And you cannot care for me

With no regard for her

If you love me you must love the church

Jesus helped individuals. He took care of individual needs like restoring sight to the blind or making the lame walk. And he still does that. But his message of love wasn't just for one person. It's often said that, "If you were the only sinner in the world, Jesus still would've died for you." And maybe that's true. Maybe he would've. But the fact is, I'm not the only sinner in the world. Jesus died for a lot of people. Everyone, as it turns out.

And if I'm really capturing the beat of my heart, I'm recognizing that faith isn't about ME. It's about his great love for the whole world. And if I get to be a part of that plan, that's amazing! Because what we are capable of doing for God is infinitely greater than what you+you+you+me are capable of doing for God on our own.

Exuding Love

Sunday's sermon was about the church in Acts, having everything in common and giving to those who had need. The church in Acts is a growing, vibrant community. Every day God adds more people to their numbers. Sure, they are met with a fair share of naysayers (many of whom try to kill Christians, like Saul before his conversion), but that doesn't stop the church from growing.

Why? It's not because the church is culturally relevant. It's not because the church is entertaining. It's because the church exudes God's love and power.

I've made it a goal to pray for my church each day this week. And today I prayed a bit about this concept. For us to exude God's love within the body and to outsiders.

I heard a quote from someone's blog today that said, "Bigger and better are always trumped by different." That's what the early church was. And not different in a weird way, but different in a "wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

The Church in America and Europe is shrinking. And the onus is on all of us who are a part of it. If we're shrinking, it's not for lack of fog machines and rock bands. It's because the Church isn't known for its love. And yes, the media does like to highlight the Christians who focus more on hate than love, and that doesn't help us. But what if the rest of the Church was such a powerful force of God's love that anyone who saw media coverage on a couple of haters knew that wasn't what the Church was really like? What if we were really known for our love?

It starts with me. It starts with you. What am I doing to exude God's love in and with the body of believers I call my church home? What are you doing? It's time to let love be the beacon that makes people say, "Wow...amazing things are happening and I want to be a part of it."

Christians

So, I wanted to clarify something I think has come out a few times in my blogs. From time to time I complain about the things Christians tend to do. Like judge in the name of "accountability."

And yet, I am proud to say I love and follow Jesus. I am a Christian. It's like this song "Down in Flames" by Relient K.

Let me pause to clarify
Because I'm sure you're asking why
I stand before you and proudly claim
To be part of what this song proclaims


I'm part of the problem, I confess
But I gotta get this off my chest
Let's extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame
And save the world from going down in flames

The body of Christ has issues. It has problems. It's full of people who sin on a daily basis. I'm one of those people. I don't claim to live the Christian life perfectly, nor can I say I've never done the very things I complain about. I have. Many times.

And sometimes, this group of sinners, including me, do things that don't represent Jesus well. Unfortunately, those tend to be the examples of Christianity that tend to stick out. They get a lot more press. And even in individual lives, negative experiences just stick more than positive ones. So even though most of my Christian friends and acquaintances have not met me with judgment, those that have seem to be the ones that I remember more.

But I think Christians are capable of accomplishing amazing things for Christ. For all the times Westboro Baptist Church has shown hatred rather than the love of Christ by picketing at gay people's funerals, there's this: Christians who went to a gay pride parade to apologize. Not to condone anything, but to show love. Because that's what Jesus did with almost everyone he met. He showed love and compassion to the cheating tax collectors. The adulterers. The prostitutes. The outcast lepers. The only people he fought with were the ones that thought they had it all together. He couldn't help them because they didn't think they needed help. They just thought everyone else did.

There are some Christians, like those from Westboro Baptist, that act like that. Everyone else needs help, but not them. And those are the Christians who stand out. But those aren't the people who make up the body of Christ. When I read about strippers picketing on the church lawn after its congregants had picketed at their club, I cheered for the strippers. Because I don't think that was strippers vs. my fellow Christians. I think it was strippers vs. haters. And hate has nothing to do with Jesus.

But most Christians I know aren't haters. They aren't perfect, but they want to do what's right. They want to show Jesus' love. So don't take my complaints as general statements about what Christians are. I complain because it bothers me so much to see us as a group being less than what we can be. All I'm doing is trying to extinguish the anguish for which we're to blame so that together, we can do amazing things to show the world the love of Christ.

Christlike

Lately I've been thinking about personality versus character. When I was driving to a bar on a Friday night for a friend's birthday party at 8:00, I had a prematurely old moment when I thought to myself, "I can't believe I'm leaving my house after 8 pm."

But I don't think it's so much that I'm prematurely old as it is that I'm just not a go-out kind of person. I'm much more content to curl up with a book or a good TV show than I am to hang out with a bunch of people. I mean, I like to hang out with people one-on-one sometimes. But on a typical night you'll find me at home on the couch, and that's just where I want to be.

There is nothing better or worse about being an introvert vs. an extrovert. I think with both, you need balance. (Introverts need to be with people sometimes, even if it drains them, because community is important. Extroverts may be drained by being alone, but it's important for reflection and prayer.)

And there are a million other examples of personality traits that are totally separate from character virtues. What your hobbies are, what you're passionate about, what you're good at.

Which got me thinking about what it really means to be Christlike. Because I think sometimes it is hard to separate Jesus' character from his personality. He was a public figure. He was often with crowds. This didn't seem to overwhelm him, even if it sometimes was a sacrifice when what he really wanted was a little alone time. I would venture to say Jesus was an extrovert. Does that mean I need to get up on a mountain and preach? No. Does it mean I need to be compassionate? Yes. Does my compassion have to be amidst a large crowd? No.

What do you think? What are some lines you'd draw between Jesus' character and his personality?

Christians

I've been thinking about the kind of Christians that I admire and want to be like, and the kind of Christians that make me embarrassed to call myself a Christian. Because I do want to grow in my faith - but I want to grow more Christ-like, which isn't always more "Christian."

The Christians that make me embarrassed are known for what they are against, like homosexuality or abortion. They picket and are loud-mouthed about their opinions.
The Christians I admire are known for radiating love and care to everyone around them.

The Christians that make me embarrassed stand on street corners and hand out tracks awkwardly, making others feel uncomfortable.
The Christians I admire overflow with Jesus naturally, so that conversations about faith just happen because of their lifestyle.

The Christians that embarrass me always have a cheesy cliche handy.
The Christians I admire respond to everything in humble, authentic prayer.

The Christians that embarrass me reek of phoniness.
The Christians I admire leave no doubt of the sincerity of their faith.

The Christians that embarrass me mindlessly echo things they've heard or read about faith, without thinking for themselves.
The Christians I admire have their own faith journey stories and insights to share.

The Christians that embarrass me get preachy when people do things like swear or drink beer.
The Christians I admire love and accept everyone.

The Christians that embarrass me do all kinds of Christian activities so it's obvious they're a Christian.
The Christians I admire are just obviously Christian.

The Christians that embarrass me do a lot of talking.
The Christians I admire do a lot of asking and listening.

What contrasts would you add to this list?

Steady

I recently posted about my experience with See You at the Pole in high school. And before I posted that, I was talking with someone at work about the persecution we went through in those days. She was particularly struck by the fact that people stoned us.

"How did you stand firm in your faith in that kind of environment?" she asked.

"Well, I'm kind of a go-against-the-crowd kind of person," I replied. "I found it a lot easier to stand firm in my faith there than I did at Wheaton, where everyone was a Christian. In high school there was no wishy-washy faith. You were either all in, or all out."

Ever since I graduated, I've spent most of my time in all-Christian environments. Christian college. Working at a church. Working for a Christian company. And it's definitely put my faith to the test. Some people wonder if they're strong enough to hold their ground in faith when they face opposition. I've had to see if I'm strong enough to hold my ground in faith when there's not opposition. When I don't need to stand out and shine Jesus' love, because everyone around me is at least presumed to be a Christian. (And within a few months of being in that infamous Wheaton bubble, I found it really hard to even talk to someone who wasn't a Christian.)

They say the church is thriving in countries where Christianity is taboo. And the church is dying in this "freedom of religion" country. I think it's because being a Christian in a persecuted environment makes you really think about what you're doing, and whether it's worth it. You can't just say you're a Christian or go through the motions and not really be one—because that's definitely not worth the risk, whether it's being stoned at a school flagpole or being put to death.