Author: Wick

Last week I had the privilege of attending a concert over 10 years in the making.  I was introduced to “Dispatch” back in college by a few close friends I traveled in a band with.  Their incredible music, and faith-infused lyrics caught my attention.  Unfortunately it’s also when the band stopped playing together.  They went off to do their own solo stuff.  My attention was drawn to Brad, who went off to form “Braddigan“, with songs that touched more deeply into faith elements, and even actively involved his shows with bringing light to places in the world that were dark.  He connected with established ministries and offered hope to people living in the garbage dumps of Nicaragua.

I have to say, the music was incredible, as expected.  But I got a lot more than I’d imagined/expected along with it. 

Mind you, I haven’t really attended a large concert that wasn’t labeled “Christian” in a long time (Hootie & the Blowfish), unless you count walking past one at Decatur Celebration.  I realize this concert probably isn’t what all shows are like, but it reveals quite a bit about how we are wired/created as humans.

Thousands of people, standing shoulder to shoulder, filled to the brim with emotions (or hormones? or drugs/beer?), singing the lyrics loudly…many moving to the rhythms.  Let’s just say the entire venue began to smell like burned palm branches, and it was not anywhere near Ash Wednesday.  So how can so many people fill themselves with so much alcohol and weed, and be shouting out introspective lyrics about grand themes like forgiveness, God, Love, Jesus, hope, etc.?

I found a small clue, in one of their most popular songs “Elias“.  The very first line, sung in an Eastern Zimbabwe tribal language, says “If I could meet my Jesus I would be very happy with him”.  The song goes on, with a great message about community, helping out those in need, and being stronger when they are stronger.  Dispatch has even created ways to help communities in Zimbabwe, because of the story that inspired the song.

But as the woman behind me cried “This is the most high I’ve ever been!!!”, and a few minutes later, through the same tears, “Did you know that guy helps people who live in TRASH!!  I can’t believe it!  People live in garbage!!”….I wondered if something may be lost in the translation of God’s love for His people.

The lyrics focus on humanity being very happy with Jesus…and with each other…but neglect any mention of what God desires for His creation.   I found myself, in the midst of enjoying great music; burdened to prayer for the crowds that were right on the edge of experiencing a bit of who God is….but deciding only to go as far as it benefits me and mine.

I have no doubt that God is at work, both in those moments and through their music beyond.  But the concert experience reminds me there are other forces who would love to masquerade as a meaningful faith experience…

May we carry the light this week…

I think five years of anything in particular can prompt a bit of a reflection. June 1st of 2006, I was officially hired by Moundford Free Methodist Church in Decatur, IL. Sarah and I had spent over a year in Decatur, waiting on God, believing He had called us here. Not only to be near family, but to be deeply involved in a ministry that held family in high regard.

Spending some time in prayer this morning, the picture above seemed to capture exactly what I wanted to convey. I feel as if the sun has only begun to rise on what God has for us here. It’s hard to express just how thankful I am for where we are, and the ministry we’re enabled to live out. The relationships we’ve built, and continue to build on.

Family has definitely been a focus of our life and ministry ever since coming to Moundford. After all, for most of our tenure so far, we’ve added a child every year or so to our own. We began here with no kids, and now our home contains so much cuteness that we should probably charge admission. It’s a tremendous blessing to have a church that acknowledges the sacrifices of having a youth pastor at my stage in life. They could have a younger, “pre-child”-stage youth pastor with unlimited time and resources to give. They could have an older, “grown-child” stage youth pastor, who can pack up the kids or leave them at home and knows how to navigate parenting with professional life. Instead they’ve been enduring a youth pastor who is still learning how to balance a hugely demanding family role with a job that he never clocks out of.

I like to believe my family is a HUGE part of my life as a minister. It seems my church family agrees. We continue to experience God’s “Yes!” to this path of raising a family and ministering among the people of the greater Decatur area.

There’s another side to this coin. I’m almost 30, and there’s that overly-quoted statistic about the short tenures of most youth pastors. Any youth pastor with a balding spot gets asked, “so when do you think you’ll become a senior pastor?” My response, this morning at least, would be something like:

I get to preach often. Sometimes to the whole congregation. I get to lead worship on occasion. I get to teach/discuss/study scripture. I get to visit people in the hospital, and pray with people in their homes. I carry a burden for our church’s needs in a way that drives me to prayer as one of their pastors. I also have a special love for the youth, and this stage of life that is so ridiculously fluid and foundational. I get to focus much of my energy/efforts towards calling these young adults and their families to the revelation/transformation of Jesus Christ and His Spirit. I get to help feed the hungry. I get to minister in a city that is marginalized, and actively working to reach out to the marginalized…in a congregation that is increasingly globally-burdened and active. I am in the midst of God freeing captives, bringing redemption, and giving New Life. And that’s an abbreviated list.

I think this is a pretty good place to be. And we have only begun…

I know “ascenscial” is probably not a word. But there is an assumption within the “ascension” that can lead to all sorts of other messes, if we don’t sort it out ahead of time.  Of course, it could also simply be interesting speculation…

In Luke 24:51, “While he was blessing them, he left them and was taken up into heaven.”

and in Acts 1:9-10, “When he had said this, as they were watching, he was lifted up, and a cloud took him out of their sight. While he was going and they were gazing up toward heaven, suddenly two men in white robes stood by them.”

The word used in the Luke passage for “taken up” does not automatically mean “up” as a direction. Anymore than when my 2 year old “swallows up” her food, does it mean she took it in a direction opposite the floor.

In Acts, we find a similar situation, with Jesus being taken out of their sight as literally “a cloud received him”.

These are human attempts to describe something that doesn’t occur on a regular basis. Something “science fiction” authors hadn’t yet developed easily-grasped modes of describing yet  (if we can consider todays common sci-fi terminology “easily-grasped”).

To put it simply, if Jesus went “up” from one spot on the world into “heaven”, that means he went “down” from another spot on the world.  We have seen the galaxies and solar systems beyond our own a bit more than they had in the early Church, enough to understand “heaven” is probably not simply “up there somewhere”.

It seems more likely, especially with things like Christ entering the locked room after the resurrection, that “paradise” as Christ called it on the cross, is a realm that is not far from our own. The resurrected Christ seems to be physically going in between “paradise” and our world in a way no one else can. Recent science fiction might even refer to it as “another dimension” occupying a space very near to ours.

So what does all of this mean for us?  Why does it matter?

It may not be a big deal.  But it definitely offers to give us hope, as we look forward to a New Heaven and New Earth being married together.  Perhaps someday we will all share in the resurrected existence we see in Christ, crossing back and forth between the two dimensions.  We do not have to believe in a moment where Jesus, like Superman, looks up and thrusts his fist into the air – blasting off from the surface of the earth.

Is it any less fantastic to believe that Jesus is simply “taken into” another dimension?  I suppose not.  But at least I don’t feel as silly.  I guess it also makes me feel like God is a bit less removed than some would believe Him to be.