Fasting and the arts

We had an interesting discussion during our staff meeting yesterday about engaging in core spiritual practices together. One of our future interns noted that she was familiar with a church plant in New York that was pretty dedicated to doing certain things together like reading Scripture and fasting. Trey, Matt (one of our worship leaders) and I talked about different options and the notion of fasting kept coming up. Though we've all fasted at one point or another in the past, it's not been something that we've done regularly.

One idea I had was to combine fasting with something else I've been wanting to do more of--engage the arts. I keep telling people that one of the advantages of living in the city is the unbelievable access we have to a wide variety of the arts and yet most of my experience with the arts has been doing crafts with my kids or watching Netflix. None of this is bad, but I think I can stretch myself a bit. Maybe I can skip lunch one day a week and experience God through a trip to an art gallery or a free concert or a street performer. It's not a huge sacrifice, but it's a start. Kind of gives new meaning to starving artist.

Day off

I've tried really hard to not use my iPhone on my day off/Sabbath and I did pretty well today--almost made it but then I had to give my son a bath and I was standing there, watching him play in the tub, feeling a bit bored...and I caved to check my email. Sigh. I know the proper father thing to do would have been to wonder at his play and talk with him etc. etc. No Father of the Year Award today.

I do get some Man of the House props today, however, for installing a kitchen faucet. Me installing something is a rarity so excuse me while I pat myself on the back. It only drips a little bit and I'm 99 percent sure that's the manufacturer's fault and not mine. I called to ask about this and the woman said they'd have to ship a part for me and said it would take 28 days and then asked, "Will that be a problem?" I laughed. I'll put up with the slight drip because there's no way I'm taking that faucet back out to return it.

Litmus tests

Have there always been litmus tests in churches? I'd be curious what different ones have been in days gone by.

One of the main ones we get (and I suppose many other churches get) is about homosexuality. It happened again today after church. A nice young couple came up to me after the worship, said they were new, said they were looking for a church, and the woman said she just had one question (wait for it): What is our stance on homosexuality?

This question used to frustrate me because, on the one hand, I find it's so difficult to give a satisfactory, pithy answer. I've been asked about it so much with our new church, though, I'm answering it in about 30 seconds and it boils down to our belief that homosexuality is not a sin. I don't always know if this is the answer the questioner wants and the woman this morning gave no clue as to whether she agreed or disagreed with me. Interestingly, she had another question: Do we believe in the Holy Spirit and do we believe that the Holy Spirit can still do miracles? I don't know what she meant by "miracles," but I didn't ask. I simply gave an emphatic yes and also encouraged her to meet with me further so we can talk a little more in depth about these issues.

Will she and her boyfriend/husband be back? One thing I've learned with this new church is to never assume anything. I've had people come up to me and say their lives have been changed thanks to Urban Village and then never return and I've had the opposite happen, too. People who seem like they wouldn't like it and they're here every Sunday.

I do know this. It's never boring. Thanks be to God.

One of those days

I haven't had "one of those days" in quite some time, but today...

It started out with disappointment as I opened the Chicago Tribune. The Trib is supposed to be doing an article on Urban Village Church and we thought today was the day that it would run, but nada. Who knows if/when it will be printed? Then I went to my daughter's school where I was teaching her class about prayer; specifically, breath prayer. She goes to a Catholic school but nearly half the students are non-Catholic so when they break off into religion classes, they're grouped into Catholic (called the Moonbeams) and non-Catholic (the Shooting Stars). I offered to come in and do a little teaching with the Shooting Stars so I've been with them three times this week. It went really well (thanks to the "Way of the Child" curriculum), but when I walked out of the building, I quickly saw that my car had been towed.

I've been so proud that I haven't gotten a ticket since moving to Chicago but this was unbelievable. I paid for parking, but had failed to see that there was street cleaning on this particular side of the street on Friday mornings and, of course, it was a tow zone. As I noted on my Facebook page today, I had been teaching about breath prayers to the class, but said something under my breath when the car was missing. And it wasn't a prayer. I finally figured out that the car was at 400 Lower East Wacker Drive, which is in the bowels of the city. $7 cab ride there. $160 to get it out of the tow lot. $50 ticket on top of all that. Lower Wacker Drive (above) is just one depressing place. I'll never figure out how to get around down there and I hope to never be back. They were appropriately surly to me which I actually didn't mind. I didn't want them to be cheery or tell me have a nice day.

Things have gotten better as the day's gone on, though. A hamburger for lunch helped as did reading "Deliberate Simplicity" by Dave Browning. And my sermon is starting to come together which didn't seem possible a couple days ago.

Now to get ready for our daughter's birthday party tomorrow. Our house is being transformed into Hogwarts.

Is presentation everything?

My wife and I were in Seattle last weekend for a family wedding. When people asked us about the ceremony, we both gave similar answers. That wasn't the case if we were asked about the bride's dress. My answer: "Um, it was kind of an ivory-white color." My wife's answer: I must confess I don't even remember because it went on for a few sentences and included the word "pleats" and may have included the phrase "off-the-shoulder." So, I wondered, where was my attention? Perhaps not surprisingly, it was on the officiant. I was silently critiquing his style, the vows, what he was wearing, etc. Not one of my better moments.

How you present yourself at a wedding can cause some consternation, but it's not just weddings that may bring on this anxiety. Whether it's work or a social event or even going for a workout, we pay attention to the clothes we wear and how we present ourselves. If we're honest with ourselves, we may even admit that we also are watching others and judging their "presentations."

One of our church's CTA ads says that Urban Village Church loves tattoos and suits. But no matter what you wear or what you have inked on your body, a deeper issue, I think, is whether we're following Colossians 3:12. The author of this text encourages us to clothe ourselves not with the latest fashion or tattoo, but with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, and, above all else, love.

I'll explore our spiritual wardrobes this Sunday and reflect on the kinds of impressions we're making in our daily lives.

What can I do?

Oh, Genxrev, how I have neglected you...but, Twitter only asks a 140 characters from me!

Isn't it interesting that four words uttered in different contexts can generate such different emotions in me?

Things are going well at Urban Village. For those who are curious, here are the "stats":

March 28 (first Sunday morning worship): 145 people
April 4 (Easter): 155
April 11: 120
April 18: 125
April 25: 130

We expected a bit of a drop off after Easter, but it's not as dramatic as it could have been and, as you can see, we're trending up! One of the great things is the number of people who want to do more than just come on Sunday morning. They want to get involved. What can I do? they ask and we celebrate the question.

Sunday afternoons, though, I'm usually pretty wiped out and just want to lay around, maybe nap, maybe work on a crossword puzzle, but around 2 p.m. or so my 5-year-old will come up to me and sweetly say, "What can I do?" Translation: I'm bored. Entertain me.

Groan.

It's part of parenthood, I realize, but there are times when I'm more energized to do stuff with him than others.

Sermon podcast

It's been quite a while since I put up a podcast, but here's a link so you can listen to my sermon from last Sunday:

https://www.yousendit.com/download/bFFQaUNLUENxRTFjR0E9PQ

Also, a great quote for the day:

"We cannot do without a paradigm to help us live. As a believer, I keep bumping into Jesus. I wander away, and there he is, perhaps in the eyes of someone on the street. There is no escape for me. Nor do I want there to be." Alan W. Jones

Everyone counts

You may have read the story in recent weeks about the teen-age girl in Mississippi who wanted to challenge school policy and bring her girlfriend to her high-school prom. Rather than allow this, however, the county school board canceled the prom altogether. This set off a flurry of debate, outrage, and a lawsuit. It also got me thinking about this sermon series that we're beginning this Sunday.

The series is called "Everyone Counts." The U.S. Census wants us all to be counted, but different segments of our society find it hard to believe that everyone should count. We're saying that not only does everyone count (and is loved) in God's eyes, but God also calls you and I to think about our own biases and reflect on whether we truly believe the same thing.

Do you think Democrats and Republicans should count? People who wear suits and tattoos? Doubters and believers? Gay people and straight people? Cub fans and Sox fans? Take it a step further. Are we able begin the process of loving all of them, as well?

Can you love the teen who wants to take her girlfriend to the prom and those who don't want to allow that? That's a tall order for a lot of us. But if we're interested in following the way of Jesus, eventually we come across his words that challenge us to love those who harm us and infuriate us. That's not easy and it may take a long time, but, hopefully, in our better moments, we remember that Jesus loves us when we can be less than lovable.

Join us beginning this Sunday as we explore the difficulty and joy of loving others who check different boxes.

New Urban Village video

It's good to have talented and gifted and generous in-laws. My sister-in-law Stefanie Curry designed our ads for the trains and buses and my brother-in-law Paul Traynor and his colleague put this video together for us for practically nothing. Pretty cool!


It was weird not having to put together a Maundy Thursday or Good Friday service, but it was also kind of nice. Getting ready for tomorrow, though. Really curious to see who will show up.

Oh, our poor kids. It's been gray and rainy here today and that combined with constant utterances of "What can I do?" have made my wife and I not very patient. I'm thankful for neighbors with kids who are in the same boat!

Thoughts from our launch Sunday

Sorry it's taken me so long to post about our launch Sunday! Here's an email I sent to our prayer team yesterday that summarizes things. The first part of the email was written by my colleague Trey:

"Well, friends, Urban Village Church is out of the starting gates! Our first weekly service went really wonderfully. We could not have asked for a better beginning! There was a great, warm spirit in the place; amazing music; lots of laughter throughout the service; and, best of all, about 150 diverse people, many who were totally new to us. Thanks to God and to everybody who showed up and helped out!

"A colleague of mine who lives in another state but has friends in Chicago emailed me on Sunday afternoon. He had sent a 'spy' to the service to check us out and he wanted to share his friend's experience of Urban Village:

'It was awesome -- hilarious, witty, welcoming, open and inspiring. Out of an overwhelming sense of gratitude, I cried. Twice. Loved it.'"

As I noted last week, we really had no idea what to expect, but everything went about as smoothly as we could have hoped. Afterward, we were pretty tired and, to be honest, I was a bit deflated for 24 hours or so afterward (kind of like that post-Christmas feeling that kids get), but the great news is that we get to do it again this Sunday as we proclaim the good news of the resurrection. People really want to hear this news! Here's another email we received this week:

"I sincerely enjoyed your authentic services on Sunday. I appreciated your candor, insight and the welcoming message. It was refreshing to find a place that declares to its congregation that it's OK to doubt. That it's critical to your development as a Christian to question things, to push, to question, to be uncomfortable with God. That God is so large that we haven't even begun to scratch the surface of his messages for our lives. I have been to too many churches here where the congregation is disinterested and just going through the motions. I have been looking for a church home that is interested in getting into the meat of the scriptures, finding life applications to His Word, and finding ways to serve the neighborhood."

I think and hope we're striking a chord out there--will be really interesting to see what kind of response we get this week.

Delivery Day

"Do you want to deliver her?"

My wife had been in labor with our first child for 8 1/2 hours or so. There were three of us in the hospital room. Me. The nurse-midwife. My wife. (And I suppose my soon-to-be child, too). Our nurse-midwife had been laid back throughout this whole process which I guess is what you want from your medical practitioner. I kept thinking she should be doing something...oh, I don't know...medical when my wife had contractions, but she kept hanging back, letting nature do its thing. It was getting to be clear, however, that our daughter was about to be born. So, the nurse-midwife turned to me and says, "Do you want to deliver her?"

Let me make clear that I was not an OB/GYN doctor or nurse before I went into the ministry. My only experience was going through the pre-birth classes with my wife. But the offer to help with the delivery was there and so, I figured, what the heck?

"Should I do anything, like wear gloves?" I said.

"No, just wash your hands," the nurse-midwife said.

And so I did. She told me where to put my hands and when the time came, I guided my daughter into the world (realizing, of course, that my wife did all the heavy lifting).
Any person will tell you that being present at a birth is something you'll never forget and when you have the opportunity to actually be part of the delivery, it's life-altering.

Forgive me if I'm overdoing the analogy, but all of us will be present at a birth this Sunday and all of us will be part of the delivery. This idea of a new church was conceived more than two years ago and Trey and I are still pinching ourselves that Sunday morning worship is starting in just a few days. So many hours of work, prayers said, and coffees slurped all come together when we start joining our voices in song at 10:15 a.m.

You have been a part of this process and we hope you'll be there when this new creation begins on Sunday. John 1 tells us that all things came into being through God. I believe that this community (with all the marvelous and messy people who make it up) came into being through God. Join us on Sunday to celebrate this birth day.

At the Spertus and random stuff

We had our big launch party last night in our new digs and had a great time. It was yet another reminder that the work of getting the word (and Word) out is never done. I sometimes get a little carried away when I hear or see evidence that there's going to be a huge turnout. A handful of people tell me they'll be there and I immediately project that into large numbers. We had a nice crowd--at least 50, maybe 75--and we're hearing lots of people say they'll be there when we launch on March 28, but none of us can sit back and expect people to find us if we aren't there hitting the pavement.

If you haven't become a fan of Urban Village Church on Facebook, please do so--you can see our new ads which are up at various L stops throughout the city. Actually you can go on our web site, too, and see them, too.

The 8th annual Coon NCAA Bracket Tournament is in full force and we have a record number of 17 people playing. We're battling for a traveling bobblehead trophy (now known affectionately as Bob) that I think may be showing its age. My 5-year-old son is in second place after the first day!

Big questions discussed over waffles

My wife had to go to the grocery store near dinner time last night so I offered to make waffles for the kids. Waffles are great for a Sunday night meal (at least that's what I tell myself) and my daughter and son heartily agree. As we sat there spreading the butter and pouring the syrup, my 5-year-old son made the comment apropos of nothing that he missed our old house.

We moved from the suburbs to downtown Chicago last summer and people often ask how the kids have made the transition. They seem to be happy most of the time and are making new friends so I always assume that everything is going great, forgetting that they still have memories and that there still may be a sense of loss. I was further taken aback when my daughter (who'll be nine in May) immediately agreed with him. It's been a while since they've said anything about missing our previous home so I followed up with the typical questions. Why do you miss it? What specifically do you miss? It was hard for them to articulate at first, but my daughter eventually gave me three specific answers.

She misses having a back yard.

She misses having her own swing set.

There's more litter where we live now.

I couldn't really disagree with her points and I spent the rest of the evening pondering all this and feeling a little guilty about the move. We moved because I'm helping start a new church in the city and, personally and professionally, I really haven't regretted it at all. But, of course, when you're married with two kids and an aging dog, it's not all about me.

She's right about the litter. I've noticed it, too, as the snow begins to melt. This may be the ugliest time of the year because the remaining snow drifts are now charcoal gray and the warmer weather reveals small bits of garbage and dog waste. It's not overwhelming, but it is noticeable. I also understand her missing the swing set that we had. There is a sense of convenience and ownership about having your own swing set rather than having to the park. We spent more time talking about not having a back yard because the last few days she's been having a great time playing soccer with some other kids her age in the courtyard/parking lot in the back of our town house. She agreed with my observation, but noted that when you play on asphalt, it hurts when you fall down as opposed to playing on grass.

I can't deny that some sacrifices have been made in living where we do and I must confess that I sometimes jump to quickly to the advantages, like the diversity and living so close to so many world-class museums. I don't spend as much time thinking about what we left behind. But, like most parents, I pray that my kids might learn some lessons in all this.

Rather than moving to escape the litter, another option would be to pick up a bag and pick some of the litter up. My wife did that a few months ago. A car window was broken outside our home and the glass stayed on the ground for days. I kept expecting the Broken Car Window Clean-up Fairy to come by and take care of it but s/he didn't show up. So my wife put on some gardening gloves and did it herself.

Rather than moving so that we can have our own swing set, I hope my kids learn about sharing public resources while they play at the park and rub elbows with children who come from a wide variety of backgrounds.

And rather than moving so we can have a backyard with grass, maybe they'll learn that falling down sometimes hurts and so you have to make the decision whether to get back up again and keep kicking the ball.

As I pray that my kids learn these lessons, however, I also wonder about the last time that I picked up a bag or shared my resources or got back up off the ground without grumbling or blaming someone or Someone else. We're learning lessons together.

After we finished our waffles, the kids went out on the little deck outside our kitchen to play with some Silly String that one of them got at a birthday party. In a matter of minutes, they went from talking about what they missed to rejoicing at what was before them. The string squirted out onto the parking lot and landed on the asphalt, the same asphalt that will cushion their fall when they get the soccer ball out tomorrow.

Who do you love?

Hopefully by this time next week, at least a few people will be hearing or reading about Urban Village Church for the first time. We're investing in an ad campaign on the CTA so five L stops (Roosevelt, Addison, Merchandise Mart, Damen, and Southport), Red Line cars, and buses throughout the city will have Urban Village posters and cards posted.

There are five different ads. The main text will be the same on all five: "Bored or burned by religion in the past? We're doing church differently. Urban Village Church begins worship on March 28/10:15 a.m./Spertus Institute/610 S. Michigan." The headlines for each ad will be different, however:

We love gay people/We love straight people
We love Democrats/We love Republicans
We love tattoos/We love suits
We love doubters/We love believers
We love Sox fans/We love Cub fans

We're pleased with the way the ads turned out and hope that, even if people don't come to our church, they'll at least think for a moment about what it means to love the way Jesus loved. "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you..."

That's Jesus talking. Matthew 5:43-44. That passage rarely fails to make me pause and think about who I claim to love. Because of this ad campaign I've created my own list, including those people I find hard to love. People who irritate me, who are insensitive, rude, and annoying. If I really want to follow in the way of Jesus, it means I love rude people and I love insensitive people. It means I pray for them. It also means that I'm humble enough to know that I have my days of being irritating, insensitive, rude, and annoying. And I'm thankful that others still love me anyway.

Praying for change

I've been going to St. Procopius Benedictine Abbey for spiritual retreats off and on now since the mid-1990s. At first, I was pretty regimented about the whole process. I'd follow a strict guideline of when to pray, when to read, and when to attend prayer and worship with the monks. I don't regret that way of going about it because I think it helped me get accustomed to actually going on a spiritual retreat. With experience, though, I've cut myself much more slack. If I feel like reading, I read. If I feel like praying, I pray. If I feel like napping, I nap. If I feel like going for a walk, I head outside. I still attend all the communal opportunities for prayer and worship (there are four a day), but I now go into each retreat not really sure what will come out of it. Usually a verse or theme emerges.

One of the things I like about St. Procopius is that nothing much changes. The same monks are here, the same schedule is pretty much kept, and I stay in the same room. It's been more than a year since I last came out here, though, and change is happening. Seven monks died in 2009, including two I knew somewhat well. Father Thomas, the guest master (think of him as the concierge of St. Procopius), who always seemed ageless to me, is also slowing down a bit.

It struck me this morning that "change" would emerge as the theme of this retreat. Not just my observation of change taking place here at the abbey, but the change that needs to always take place within me. This isn't a novel revelation, but I realize that I've been spending way too much time lately wanting other people to change to adjust to my wants and needs and way too little time praying for a changed heart within me.

That can be a daunting prayer: I'm ready for my heart-my life-to change, O God. Eugene Peterson notes, "Be slow to pray. Praying puts us at risk of getting involved with God's conditions...Praying most often does get us what we want but what God wants, something quite at variance with what we conceive to be in our best interests. And when we realize what is going on, it is often too late to go back."

It's a risky prayer, to be sure. But I kind of like where this prayer is leading me during this Lenten season.

Melting snow reveals blechy stuff

It was a warmer day yesterday and the sun was out which makes life much happier for lots of people, but I found myself feeling a little bleah yesterday afternoon. I think one reason is that with warmer temperatures comes melting snow and that means trash and dog excrement are revealed. I was walking around a nearby neighborhood yesterday and it wasn't a pretty sight. That's the thing about living in the city. I find myself either really, really liking it (which is about 80 percent of the time) or really, really not (that would be about 20 percent of the time). Not sure why the bleah feeling came about because it's been a very good week for the church. About ready to announce the hiring of our new worship leader and worship venue.

I'm hoping I can keep up with this Lenten practice of reading through the Marks of a Christian from Romans 12. Today's mark: Hate what is evil. If that doesn't spur all kinds of reflection, I don't know what will. Hate? Evil?

Marked

We went to my daughter's school on Tuesday night for a Fat Tuesday celebration and, of course, when you gather lots and lots of kids in a gymnasium with pizza, sweets, and a D.J., it's a jolt to your senses (at least to my 42-year-old senses). One of the highlights for our kids--as it often is at an event like this--was getting their faces painted. I was grumbling a bit because the line was long and the artists seemed to be taking their sweet time about it, but I must say that these were some pretty cool designs. Caroline had a kind-of Mardi Gras design and Ethan had a dragon on his face. There was no way they wanted to wash these marks off when we got home so they slept on towels over their pillows that night. Ethan was a particularly careful sleeper, I think, and may have slept on his back the whole night.

Yesterday hundreds of people were walking around downtown with a different design on their faces, or, specifically, their foreheads. Ash Wednesday. Many people heard the sobering yet important words, "Remember that you are dust, and to dust you shall return." I was marked with my ash cross over the noon hour and received a few double takes, including a woman on the L who asked about it.

The kids on Tuesday night and the many yesterday were all marked for different reasons and the passage I was reading this morning really jumped out at me as a great text to relate to these marks. Romans 12:9-21 is often entitled "Marks of the True Christian" and it's a powerful list of entreaties written by a man named Paul. Depending on how you break them up, there are 25 or so ways to measure whether we have these marks. Let love be genuine. Do not lag in zeal. Be patient in suffering. Persevere in prayer. I think I may use this as a key text during these next 40-plus days of Lent as I wonder about the marks in/on my heart and whether people can see them as easily as a dragon or an ash cross.

A reminder of God's love

We all have our routines before we go to bed and I'm glad to say that reading Harry Potter aloud to my daughter has become one for us (I don't know whether she appreciates my doing a variety of voices for all the characters, but I have a lot of fun with it).

In addition to J.K. Rowling and prayers and brushing teeth, I always tell her I love her before I head out of her room. Every once in a while, though, I want to make sure she really hears me so I kneel down at her level and I her ask her if she really knows how proud her mom and I are of her and how deeply we love her. A smile usually comes across her face and she nods her head. I think she appreciates that extra effort.

The news that God loves us may not be novel. For some, this may be a radical thing, but others spent many a Sunday School class singing "Jesus loves me, this I know" over and over and over. Every once in a while, though, I think God stops and tries to convey this in a different way so that we really know the depth of that love. I read something by the spiritual writer Henri Nouwen this week that was a good reminder for me. Nouwen writes how he imagines what God might be saying to him:

"I have called you by name, from the very beginning. You are mine and I am yours. You are my Beloved, on you my favor rests. I have molded you in the depths of the earth and knitted you together in your mother's womb. I have carved you in the palms of my hands and hidden you in the shadow of my embrace. I look at you with infinite tenderness and care for you with a care more intimate than that of a mother and her child. I have counted every hair on your head and guided you at every step. Wherever you go, I go with you, and wherever you rest, I keep watch. I will give you food that will satisfy all your hunger and drink that will quench all your thirst. I will not hide my face from you. You know me as your own as I know you as my own. You belong to me. I am your father, your mother, your brother, your sister, your lover and your spouse...yes, even your child...wherever you are I will be. Nothing will ever separate us. We are one."

I believe God says this to all of us. All. Of. Us. May we never forget it.

At the extremes

Ash Wednesday isn't for a couple more weeks so I'm jumping the gun a bit on this post, but this thought came to me a couple days ago and I wanted to record it.

I've been thinking a little bit about (take your pick) Satan/the devil/evil force/the enemy lately. I don't know if I've ever clearly come to some decision about what exactly I believe about God's opposite, but I do believe there is opposite force/power in our world. However you name it, I've been struck lately that this force will often take me to the extremes. For example, I've been feeling a little anxious lately about our new church's finances and whether enough money will be forthcoming in gifts and pledges. Nothing in particular has happened that should plant this doubt in my mind--just stuff I ruminate on when I wake up at 3 a.m. But the anxiety gets planted and then takes me to places I shouldn't really go, e.g. it's a bad economy so we'll never have enough money and I should never have left my previous church and oh, woe, is me...

You see? Taken to an extreme that isn't good for anybody.

On the other hand, it's also not good to be at the other end of that extreme, namely, oh, don't worry about it at all. The money will come so there's no need to plan or ask for money or start teaching about stewardship. That also won't get us anywhere.

This same kind of thinking has applied when I think about my own gifts and graces. I've been at one extreme where I think that I have no talents at all and I should just probably quit the ministry and I've been at the other end where I think that, quite possibly, I may be the best preacher in the country. Not good to be at either end.

What does this have to do with Ash Wednesday? A common text that people reflect on early in Lent is the story of Jesus' temptation by Satan (Luke 4:1-13). Satan tempts Jesus to do some pretty extreme stuff. Turn a stone into bread. Jump off the pinnacle of the Temple. Jesus doesn't fall for this trap, though, and begins his ministry.

Balance has always been important to me and I think that's true when thinking about a force that pushes me to extremes. I'd rather be centered in the unfailing love of God.

Saying yes again and again

The first time I went into their home, I immediately noticed the pictures on the wall next to the staircase. I had been invited over to have some coffee with some new acquaintances and there on the wall leading upstairs were a series of pictures. They were all of the couple, but you could tell that in each picture they were each changing ever so slightly. I asked them about it and they told me that every year on their anniversary, they renew their wedding vows and they take a picture to commemorate it. I kind of liked that sense not just of commitment, but also of recommitment.

It's a big decision to commit to someone or something, but it's an even bigger decision to make that conscious commitment day after day after day, whether you give yourself to another person or a job or a personal goal. Or God.

There are lots of stories in the Bible where God asks for a commitment from a person or a group of people and there are just as many stories in the Bible of these same people who either flee from this commitment or who simply say, no thanks. It's not always an easy thing to say yes to God because usually that means our lives change. I believe they change for the better, but, still, they do change.

I also believe that God asks all of us for some kind of commitment. Sometimes we name that a "call," either to a vocation (everything from a teacher to a small-business owner) or an action (maybe raising money for Haiti or working to reform our country's immigration policies). But I do believe that the request is made and it's always a request that's based in God's deep and abiding love for each of us.

It can be a scary thing to say yes to God's call. But once we do, it helps to say yes each day, even on the days when our heart's not in it. God's heart can make up for the rest.