“The earth trembled at dawn of Sunday, the first day of the week. But the three women walking to the tombs outside Jerusalem hardly noticed that. When they came in view of the tomb, they saw that the stone has already been rolled back. The entrance stood open, dark and yawning and… empty. ”

- from a children’s book

Ever had a dream die? Or felt the anguish of something you cared so for or believed in with all your heart… as it ended? We’ve all experienced that from one time or another.

Now, let me ask you this. Have you ever lost something so dear, only to realize it wasn’t gone? From death to life. From darkness to light. Hope lives on. Joy returns. Anguish evaporates. Love wins.

“We have to give up the small gospel that simply confirms what C.S. Lewis called ‘our congenital preference for the safe investments and limited liabilities’. The freedom of grace grants us many gifts, including that there is ‘therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus(Rom 8:1) This assurance of grace is meant to set us on the road of faithful discipleship, not just to assure us of grace at the finish line. Such freedom enables Christ’s disciples to love because we have first been loved (1 John 4:19). The grace that settles our account with God is meant to set us free from the self-interest for the sake of loving others with abandon.”

- Mark Labberton “The Lima Bean Gospel” in Christianity Today

A friend of mine sent me a note of encouragement that had this quote in it. It got me thinking (as most things do). Do I love others with abandon? And what does this abandon look like if it’s being walked out in my life? Either the gospel, or the way I’m living it, is bland like lima beans or vibrant like Christ. I just know I never want to be compared to lima beans…

Any thoughts?

Bloggers have a bad reputation about using their blog to complain about thing wether it be the world, the church or whatever. I’m no exception. So I’m going to start a new Monday tradition of talking about things I love. I figure, it’s a Monday, so we might as well set our mind on good things.

Today’s Monday love? Chacos. Yes I absolutely love my Chacos. What’s a Chaco, you may say?

Well, they’re sandals, but so much more. They’re rugged sandals made adventures on the headwaters or on the trail. Hiking boots? Forget it. I recently went backpacking with them and liked them better than boots.

I hate to wear shoes, period. I’d go bare foot and become hobbit if I could, but my feet aren’t suited for it. These babies take me everywhere.

So for this Monday love, I love Chacos.

I sat in church on Sunday morning utterly dismayed at what I was hearing. We had a guest speaker, a man raised in Mormonism who later converted to Christianity. I entered this morning with eager anticipation because we had with us a Mormon girl who has been involved in our ministry. I expected this to be a time where here eyes were opened to see the truth. What I got was a bitter man, hell bent on bashing a cult.  

As a church did we need a message that Mormons were bad and not Christians? I’d hope as a church that we’d have a firm grasp on that (if not, we’re in trouble). All I saw a man who built walls of bitterness and pompous religiosity.

I started praying for this girl, especially as she left about 20 minutes in to his talk - though I can’t say that I blame her for leaving. While praying the Lord reminded me that to reach Mormons (or any lost person) we must reach their hearts and not attack their religion or beliefs.

In this search for being right or righteous, have we lost our love and compassion? Christ was both truth and love. If we only take one of those we are in danger of making our own false beliefs. And if we do that, are we that much worse than any cult we so easily bash?

Ray Bell… such an interesting, amazing man. He’s certainly one of a kind that I won’t soon forget.

I’m at this semi formal fundraising dinner near the Perimeter mall area in Atlanta, Ga. So I’m standing around making small talk and getting pretty bored. Then this guy with a cowboy shirt on and handlebar mustache moseys up to me (and yes moseys). He introduces himself as Ray Bell. And no, you can’t call him Ray… it’s Ray Bell. He’s some sort of mix of biker meets cowboy (it kinda works, both are equally leather clad). As we talk, he proceeds to show me about five bullet holes in the back of his jacket. Then he pulls up his shirt. He’s got the scars to match.

You don’t meet people like Ray Bell everyday – or at least I don’t meet people like Ray Bell everyday. We talk for a while, enjoying each others company. He looks rough, but strikes me as such a warm, personable, friendly guy. Soon, dinner begins and we go our separate ways.

Dinner finishes and I’m walking out to my car. Guess who flags me down? Ray Bell. We talk a bit more and he invites me to his church. It’s called God’s Holy Rollers. It’s a church for bikers (and I’m not talking Schwinn) that meets in a bar on Sunday mornings. I’m intrigued and I agree. And when I agree and Ray Bell gets excited. So excited that he lets me in on his little secret. The jacket he’s wearing isn’t he one he was actually shot in. That one wore out years ago. So every time he gets a new jacket, Ray Bell takes it out back behind his house and shoots it with a shotgun. Like I said… one of a kind.

Sunday morning rolls around and I show up at the church. I’m excited, but don’t know what to expect. Now, I’ve done my best to blend, but there’s really no way I’m going to blend. I don’t do biker very well.

I go inside and I’ll tell you, it was an experience. I’ve been so many different churches. New and old. Liturgical and charismatic. Mainline and evangelical. I’ve never been so embraced and loved by a group of people. I was greeted with open arms and made apart of the family. They were raw, and rough around the edges, but they were honest and real.

I’ve never worshiped with folks who smoke while they sing. But what I saw before me was probably a decent snapshot of what the early church looked like. It wasn’t clean and pretty, it was dirty and messy. Folks showing up with no pretense or no agenda. Their lives weren’t perfect, but they were real. They just loved God and wanted to be around their friends. It’s amazing that something so simple is so easily lost or pushed out by programs and rituals. I walk away from that morning smelling like cigarettes and beer, but I don’t mind because I know in some way that’s what church should smell like.