It will all be alright in the end, so if it is not alright, it is not yet the end.

My favorite line from the movie, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel

hallywoods:

“We have to keep the wolf at the door. We tell stories to continue ourselves” — Ken Burns

Source: hallywoods

This fall we are thrilled to invite 10 more aspiring missional leaders into our one-year NieuCommunities apprenticeship in Golden Hill (San Diego). In the apprenticeship we seek to form leaders—in the context of a community that is deeply rooted in a neighborhood— for the life and mission they were created for. Our apprenticeship is geared toward 20 or 30 somethings. If you or someone you know is interested, I would highly recommend coming down for one of our long-weekend “Taste and See” experiences happening over the next few weeks.

For more information email rebecca.chase@crmleaders.org

not so holy behavior

Laurie and I spent time in Israel and in the West Bank in March and experienced much of this injustice and misdirection up close and personal. What’s happening there is crushing the souls of people on both sides of the Green Line and affects ours as well. 

We are late to the game in caring for our world and the people who will inhabit it because we’ve been living an evacuation theology instead of a kingdom theology.
Inspired by conversations with Colin Richard and Pamela Wilhelms at Inhabit 2012 conference.
The story of Jesus doesn’t start in Capernaum or end there, but most of it takes place there. Today you will only find the ruins of this ancient fishing village along the shore of the Galilee, but I saw something in those ruins last month that I had never seen in a lifetime of reading the Jesus narratives. And somehow it made the story more magical and more human all at the same time. I’ll come back to that, but it might make more sense after first taking a moment to remember just some of what took place in this small town. It was in Capernaum where Jesus selected and chose twelve regular guys to join him and form his revolutionary band. Most of those blue collar disciples were residents of Capernaum. Peter’s family house was in Capernaum and Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in law there. That house became the hub of the church in Galilee during the 1st century and the ruins of the house can still be seen. It was in Capernaum where Jesus first taught that the Kingdom of God was near. When Jesus tells Peter to walk down to the lake and get a coin out of a fish’s mouth to pay the temple tax, it was for the temple in Capernaum, (pictured here), which was just steps away from Peter’s front door. Jesus calls a dark spirit out of a troubled soul in that temple and commands the spirit to leave. Later, in that same Capernaum temple, Jesus tells his followers that they will leave him too. It was in Capernaum where the Roman centurion asked Jesus to heal his servant, and Jesus does. The un-named royal official who risked his job when he asked Jesus to heal his dying son also lived in Capernaum. That’s where his son was spared and probably played in the streets. It was in Capernaum where four tough-mined men carried their paralyzed friend up onto a roof and busted a hole through it to get their friend down to where Jesus was. Matthew worked a toll booth on the road out of town, and when he invited Jesus to join him and some other unsavory characters at his house for dinner, they dined in Capernaum. On the hillside just above Capernaum Jesus delivered perhaps the greatest teaching ever offered, a talk often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount. I was struck by the small footprint of the town that was referred to so often in scripture. The entire village of Capernaum is about the size of two football fields lying side by side. So all the people mentioned above were neighbors. They would have known each other. Most of them probably grew up together. Occupying forces, seditious fishermen, corrupt tax authorities, temple priests, the privileged and the working poor would have all passed each other every day in the narrow alleys of this ancient village. They not only would have known each other, they would have known each other’s stories. The above stories weren’t just the stories of isolated individuals, they were the stories of a neighborhood that would have been talked about over every table. But the thing that really struck me was that Jesus chose this little village to become his new home. He could have moved to a larger, more strategic city, but he chose to move into a neighborhood where everybody knows your name. He launched his global initative by becoming an integral part of a little neighborhood that his disciples called home. The scriptures are so dense with stories revolving around Capernaum because Jesus submerged so deeply into its life. It was far more than just a place to work out of; it was the neighborhood Jesus inhabited and made his home.
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The story of Jesus doesn’t start in Capernaum or end there, but most of it takes place there. Today you will only find the ruins of this ancient fishing village along the shore of the Galilee, but I saw something in those ruins last month that I had never seen in a lifetime of reading the Jesus narratives. And somehow it made the story more magical and more human all at the same time.

I’ll come back to that, but it might make more sense after first taking a moment to remember just some of what took place in this small town.

  • It was in Capernaum where Jesus selected and chose twelve regular guys to join him and form his revolutionary band. Most of those blue collar disciples were residents of Capernaum.
  • Peter’s family house was in Capernaum and Jesus healed Peter’s mother-in law there. That house became the hub of the church in Galilee during the 1st century and the ruins of the house can still be seen.
  • It was in Capernaum where Jesus first taught that the Kingdom of God was near.
  • When Jesus tells Peter to walk down to the lake and get a coin out of a fish’s mouth to pay the temple tax, it was for the temple in Capernaum, (pictured here), which was just steps away from Peter’s front door.
  • Jesus calls a dark spirit out of a troubled soul in that temple and commands the spirit to leave. Later, in that same Capernaum temple, Jesus tells his followers that they will leave him too.
  • It was in Capernaum where the Roman centurion asked Jesus to heal his servant, and Jesus does.
  • The un-named royal official who risked his job when he asked Jesus to heal his dying son also lived in Capernaum. That’s where his son was spared and probably played in the streets.
  • It was in Capernaum where four tough-mined men carried their paralyzed friend up onto a roof and busted a hole through it to get their friend down to where Jesus was.
  • Matthew worked a toll booth on the road out of town, and when he invited Jesus to join him and some other unsavory characters at his house for dinner, they dined in Capernaum.
  • On the hillside just above Capernaum Jesus delivered perhaps the greatest teaching ever offered, a talk often referred to as the Sermon on the Mount.

I was struck by the small footprint of the town that was referred to so often in scripture. The entire village of Capernaum is about the size of two football fields lying side by side. So all the people mentioned above were neighbors. They would have known each other. Most of them probably grew up together. Occupying forces, seditious fishermen, corrupt tax authorities, temple priests, the privileged and the working poor would have all passed each other every day in the narrow alleys of this ancient village. They not only would have known each other, they would have known each other’s stories. The above stories weren’t just the stories of isolated individuals, they were the stories of a neighborhood that would have been talked about over every table.

But the thing that really struck me was that Jesus chose this little village to become his new home. He could have moved to a larger, more strategic city, but he chose to move into a neighborhood where everybody knows your name. He launched his global initative by becoming an integral part of a little neighborhood that his disciples called home. The scriptures are so dense with stories revolving around Capernaum because Jesus submerged so deeply into its life. It was far more than just a place to work out of; it was the neighborhood Jesus inhabited and made his home.

Christianity began in Palestine as a relationship, moved to Greece and became an idea, went to Rome and became an institution, then came to America and became an enterprise.

Richard Halverson, former Chaplain to the U.S. Senate

Lets see if we can go back to the beginning and get this right.

coast to coast

We are sometimes criticized for wanting to be tightly woven into the fabric of our neighborhood. The concern is that we’ll get too entangled in people’s lives, that we’ll succumb to tunnel vision and lose our ability to make an impact in the world. I suspect there’s validity in those concerns; it just hasn’t been our experience. We’ve found that by submerging into our neighborhood we actually learn to understand the world better and our influence in it runs deeper…and in turn wider. This short story in my friend Matt’s blog about a friend of ours is truer to what we experience in our neighborhood and what we celebrate. 

I didn’t know what to expect as I descended the steep stone steps into the candle-lit chamber lying beneath the Church of the Nativity. I certainly didn’t expect to feel the kind of butterflies I’ve often felt before playing in a big game or giving a presentation, but the sensation was surpringly familiar. There was a gravity in this place that cut through the commercialized veneer that clouds much of the holy land, a sacredness that filled my heart with a sense of wonder. That was an unexpected gift. I also didn’t expect what happened next. As Laurie and I lingered in the space where God entered our world, a large group of Muslim teenage girls filed down the steps and entered the sacred chamber with curiosity filling their faces. They instinctively flocked around Laurie and peppered her with questions. What is this place? Why are people kneeling and kissing the cold stone slab? What happened here? It’s easy to forget that Bethlehem is a Palestinian city in the occupied West Bank and that its population is predominantly Muslim. And even though Jesus is spoken of in the Koran, his story is largely unfamiliar to many Muslims, even to those born and raised in Bethlehem. After tackling their questions and sharing a bit more of The Story, we ascended the steps into the Catholic side of the church to observe the mass that had just begun. What happened next was perhaps the most unexpected of all. As we walked towards the gate leading into the Catholic sanctuary, the priest stopped the Muslim girls and told them they were not allowed in. He shooed them away while simultaneously inviting us to enter. Sheepishly the girls left the church. We walked out with them to apologize to them for being so rudely treated and to stand with them as any friend would do. Bewildered, and admittedly angry, I walked back into the church to ask the priest why he had turned the girls away. He told me Muslims weren’t allowed to attend mass. I told him they were curious to know more about Jesus. He looked at me as if I were a naive tourist and told me it was impossible. He invited me to either come into the mass or leave. I left. The realities in the West Bank are certainly dicey and complex. I get that. But Jesus invited the curious to come and see and to come and be with him. No one with a hungry heart was turned away and there was always room for more. With Jesus, the impossible was always possible…and it still is.
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I didn’t know what to expect as I descended the steep stone steps into the candle-lit chamber lying beneath the Church of the Nativity. I certainly didn’t expect to feel the kind of butterflies I’ve often felt before playing in a big game or giving a presentation, but the sensation was surpringly familiar. There was a gravity in this place that cut through the commercialized veneer that clouds much of the holy land, a sacredness that filled my heart with a sense of wonder. That was an unexpected gift.

I also didn’t expect what happened next. As Laurie and I lingered in the space where God entered our world, a large group of Muslim teenage girls filed down the steps and entered the sacred chamber with curiosity filling their faces. They instinctively flocked around Laurie and peppered her with questions. What is this place? Why are people kneeling and kissing the cold stone slab? What happened here?

It’s easy to forget that Bethlehem is a Palestinian city in the occupied West Bank and that its population is predominantly Muslim. And even though Jesus is spoken of in the Koran, his story is largely unfamiliar to many Muslims, even to those born and raised in Bethlehem. After tackling their questions and sharing a bit more of The Story, we ascended the steps into the Catholic side of the church to observe the mass that had just begun. What happened next was perhaps the most unexpected of all.

As we walked towards the gate leading into the Catholic sanctuary, the priest stopped the Muslim girls and told them they were not allowed in. He shooed them away while simultaneously inviting us to enter. Sheepishly the girls left the church. We walked out with them to apologize to them for being so rudely treated and to stand with them as any friend would do.

Bewildered, and admittedly angry, I walked back into the church to ask the priest why he had turned the girls away. He told me Muslims weren’t allowed to attend mass. I told him they were curious to know more about Jesus. He looked at me as if I were a naive tourist and told me it was impossible. He invited me to either come into the mass or leave. I left.

The realities in the West Bank are certainly dicey and complex. I get that. But Jesus invited the curious to come and see and to come and be with him. No one with a hungry heart was turned away and there was always room for more. With Jesus, the impossible was always possible…and it still is.

An 8 meter high concrete wall cuts through Palestinian streets and neighborhoods…and hearts and lives. Only 5% of the separation wall is built on the Green Line; the rest of it is illegal. All of it hurts.

As you watch this video, please pray for Palestine and the tens of thousands of Palestinian Christians in the West Bank. May they experience the freedom and dignity that God created all of his children to enjoy.

We would rather be ruined than changed. We would rather die in our dread than climb the cross of the present and let our illusions die.
A.H. Auden
Do I have a Moses-like person or two in my life who is helping to lead me out of cultural captivity, or have I surrounded myself with Aaron-like people who are busy building golden calves?
A critical question whose answer shapes who we become
Our greatest fear should not be of failure, but of succeeding at things in life that don’t really matter.
Francis Chan
Sometimes it does our hearts good to remember and re-live the fun and seemingly trivial moments that are part of who we are.
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Sometimes it does our hearts good to remember and re-live the fun and seemingly trivial moments that are part of who we are.

The world is more magical, less predictable, more autonomous, less controllable, more varied, less simple, more infinite, less knowable, more wonderfully troubling than we could have imagined being able to tolerate when we were young.
James Hollis, Finding Meaning in the Second Half of Life