I finally got around to watching The Chosen. It's early in the series, but one scene has stuck with me. It's of Peter, frustrated after a night of failed attempts to catch fish. If prayer is merely conversation with God, Peter begins to pray. It's not the composed prayer we might recite on Sunday mornings. Rather, it's the kind that grows from weariness and unmet expectations.

Peter isn't happy about his circumstance. And he isn't too thrilled with the Lord either.

As he casts out and draws in his empty nets, he recounts what God has done for his people. What some might call rehearsing the story of God. He does so remembering what God had done for "us," before he let's out some frustration he, personally, has with the Lord.

This kind of scene from projects like The Chosen always spark debate. How much of this is biblical or artistic interpretation? I can remember being so sure of myself and my thoughts of God. Over the years, the Holy Spirit has taught me to consider that all honest engagement with scripture and with God is interpretive.

In every church I've served, we've had what's affectionately called popcorn prayer.

That's when prayer requests pop up from all around the sanctuary. Popcorn praying is a way for the church to share what they've been praying for. Most times, they represent immediate needs. There's something happening right now. Or we're hoping for something now.

Of course, we pray for what's popping in your life today. We want people to experience healing, comfort and well being. We celebrate and mourn with each other every week. And those prayers are meaningful ways to care for one another.

But, in the letter to the Ephesians, we're given something even deeper that we can ask God for. The epistle opens with a broad and powerful prayer request. The community of faith is not forgotten in prayer. The writer prays they would know God, have spiritual wisdom and revelation and have their hearts enlightened. To understand the hope of God, the riches of our faith and the power of Jesus.

What we see is that the writer isn't asking God to change circumstances, as appropriate as that is. The prayer is that God would change people.

What if we started praying like that for our church family? When I pray for our church, Ephesians is a leading source of inspiration. Again, it's important to pray with people for what they're experiencing now. But there's also a great power and hope in helping people discover what they already have in Christ so that they know what the Spirit's already equipped them to do.

For more than four decades, Florence Martus waved at every ship that passed through the Port of Savannah. Day and night, travelers and sailors looked forward to seeing "The Waving Lady." Handkerchief in hand and dog alongside, legend says she waved at over 50,000 ships.

I imagine seeing her waving was like seeing the Harbor Bridge as you approach Corpus Christi. Certain places and even certain people become signs of comfort, hope and joy. Florence's wave was a meaningful travel marker for many people.

In a way, Anna was the same. Luke tells us she never left the temple. Depending on how you read the text, when Jesus was born she was 84 or 105 years old. We don't know more than a few sentences about her. But we know that for decades she personified the later words of 1 Thessalonians 5:7. She prayed and fasted night and day. That speaks to her devotion and faith. It also points to a unwavering hope and conviction.

Imagine going to the temple to worship. As it is, there's a sense of expectation and excitement. As you're traveling, you sing psalms of ascent and talk about what you'll do in the city of God. Chances are, you'll mention Anna. She's the woman everyone sees. How could you miss her? She's always there.

Bruce Springsteen said his father "was always fixated by money." The elder Springsteen would take the family to look at a big house outside of town. This house represented aspiration. It was a symbol of success, and something better than their blue-collar life. The Boss captured this image in his song Mansion on the Hill.

Do you have a symbol like that? Something that points you to something better or that inspires you to pursue your dreams and goals?

Personally, it's the Florida Keys. My stepfather and I always talked about moving there someday. That was our better place.

As Christians, we carry a similar vision. Our hearts point toward heaven. "Our citizenship is in heaven," after all (Philippians 3:20). When someone passes, we say they went to a better place: Home.

Heaven, then, is our reward.

Heaven is also our inspiration. Yes, we believe one day all things will be made new. God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. But does that mean we merely bide our time here and now? Just because things can never be perfect here doesn't mean we don't join in God's mission to bring peace and reconciliation now.

"The ultimate witness is withness." That's a great quote I read the other day. Even though I read it around two in the morning because I couldn't sleep, it's something I've been reflecting on since.

Most historians don't blame the fall of the Roman Empire on plagues. But in the second and third centuries, the empire suffered greatly as the result of, at least, two to three. The plagues decimated the Roman population and exposed some of its weaknesses. It's estimated the Antonine plague, the first epidemic recorded in history, killed up to 10 million people. That would represent a third of the population.

The emperor blamed Christians for the plague. Their unwillingness to offer sacrifices angered the gods, he argued. History, though, shows something else about the Christians. Those Romans who could flee the devastation did. Consequently, many people were left to die. But Christians stayed. They helped. They did not abandon those who were sick or dying. And they didn't just take care of other Christians. Their pagan neighbors benefitted from their withness.

Dionysius of Alexandria wrote of this time: "Most of our brother Christians showed unbounded love and loyalty, never sparing themselves and thinking only of one another."

Stay blessed...john

The first great controversy of the Christian movement surrounded the inclusion of Gentile converts. While we Gentiles today are grateful for the overwhelming affirmation of their inclusion into the faith, unfortunately, we often find new ways to alienate each other. Unknowingly or not, we construct new dividing walls that keep us from knowing the full reconciliation of God. What is worse is that we find these barriers comfortable and we, often, are not willing to further identify or deconstruct them. We are not comfortable even acknowledging them. So, they seem immovable.

Consequently, what is left are unsettling feelings of distrust and suspicion. We cannot trust those from other races, political ideologies or theological backgrounds. Even generations attack each other and blame our collective problems on one another. Hostility remains.

Does this mean the work of Christ has reached its time limit? Has God's work of reconciliation come to an end? Those who have experienced the renewal of life Jesus brings must answer, "No!"

Stay blessed...john

A group of annual conference leaders once visited me while I was in seminary. We shared lunch and they used the time to connect and get to know me. They asked about my family and my background. Eventually, they inquired about my church upbringing. Growing up, I had little experience with church. Upon hearing that, one of my visitors made a comment that has stuck with me. They said, "Not growing up in the church is an advantage for you."

That struck me because, by then, I had young children of my own. I could not imagine raising them without the church's support. I do not want them to know what life is without the local church. My three children had church grandmas and grandpas who loved them, prayed for them and showed them what faith looks like. It was my children’s and my family’s great advantage to have a loving and caring family of God surrounding them. Why would I ever consider that to be a disadvantage?

Of course, I understood what my visitor meant. To some extent, I agree with the sentiment behind that statement. Still, I have often reflected on that experience. What I have realized is that the comment struck me because I had already cemented my love for the local church. Because I did not grow up in church, I had a deep gratitude for it. The church is God's wisdom for the world and for each of us as believers in Jesus. Within the family of God, we learn to love the Lord and our neighbors more faithfully. We experience God's grace and truth in ways we could not always manage on our own.

Stay blessed...john

There's no denying the totality of the greatest commandment. Keep praying and reflecting on what it means and you realize the weight of loving God with all your heart, all your soul, all your strength and with all your mind.

Now, if you give God your all, you might wonder what is leftover for anyone else. Thankfully, our all doesn't work like that. Your all isn't a measurement, but a posture. You give your all to God not so much in quantity but in devotion. Likewise, the love of God is not a reservoir that has the potential to run dry. It is a wellspring that always flows, pouring into us and through us, again and again.

Stay blessed...john

Many people have complaints about the church today. It surprises some that I share many of those same frustrations and critiques. And so some will wonder why I'd continue to be a part of such an imperfect institution.

The answer is pretty simple. First, there are no perfect groups. If I left the church because of its imperfection, guess what I'd find anywhere else. Not even the first group Jesus started his church with was perfect. More importantly, I'm convinced the church is God's wisdom. Through our shared faith, the body of Christ lives and shares the peace of Christ with the world. We're not a non-profit organization. We're a prophetic people called to love and serve like Jesus. And we are at our best when we allow our love of God to guide how we care for others.

Over the years, I've read a lot of church-growth literature. Often, it's business talk wrapped in a church banner. In all our focus on numbers, programs and relevance, something gets overlooked. We forget the heart of our mission: loving and showing compassion for our communities. That's never quick or efficient enough for us. More lasers, please.

Stay blessed...john

I once visited a church that did its best to live up to its name: Scum of the Earth Church. Their drive was to be a place for anyone to feel welcome and at home. In the congregation, there were khakis and high tops, young and old, a professor and a single mom.

I loved it.

The guy next to me was dressed in all black, had long hair, make up and probably more piercings than I could actually see. While I sat in a chair, he perched confidently atop a ramp at the side of the room.

The leader finished our worship time by having us gather in a large circle. We held hands and recited The Lord's Prayer. Now, I've recited that prayer, probably, thousands of times. My impression was the guy next to me wasn't as used to it. But you could tell the words meant as much to him as anyone else. As usual, I finished the prayer with a hopeful, "Amen." He finished differently. Just as hopeful, mind you.

I've prayed before that these words would never escape my memory: For thine is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Right on!

Stay blessed...john

Sometimes, I wonder why I even watch the news. It feels like every headline brings too much tragedy, scandal, conflict or brokenness to my soul. Do I need that? There are days when I finish a news segment and think I really didn't need to spend time hearing that.

But I keep watching.

Maybe to stay informed or maybe just out of habit. Who knows? It could be one day something good breaks through the noise and chaos. More often than not, however, I end up sighing. I get frustrated and tired.

Hymns are for church, I know. But one line from an old hymn often comes to mind after the news: Kings and kingdoms will all pass away.

I take it as a reminder and a call back to the reality of God's rule and reign of this world. Everything we see today--governments rising and falling, powerful voices speaking over each other--none of it will last forever. It's all vapor.

What endures, of course, is something far greater: the true and faithful presence of Christ. His name. His way. His love.

That kingdom doesn't stand on fear and greed, hatred or blame. Instead, this kingdom is from God. It is rooted in justice and peace. Love is it's rule.

I guess that hymn reminds me that the news may show me what's broken in the world. But it also points me to what's eternal. With faith, keep your eyes on the kingdom that cannot be moved.

Stay blessed...john

Chances are you've heard a pastor say they've preached their sermon to themselves before they've preached it to the congregation. I'm one of them that does. I'm walking a journey of faith right along with you in the same community. We're a part of the same family of faith. So, what the Spirit wants you to hear, the Spirit wants me to hear, too. Not hear with your ears, but with your heart, and to obey. How, then, could we share that faith if I'm not willing to be obedient to what I'm offering to you?

At my current church, I preached with a plunger on my first Sunday. The idea was that I was going to ask the church to do hard things sometimes. But I wouldn't ask anything I wouldn't do. I thought it was a good visual, but it wouldn't stand against any of the prophet Ezekiel's visions.

In chapter 3 of Ezekiel, the Lord commands him to eat a scroll and fill his stomach with it. The scroll represented the word God wanted to give the people. So, Ezekiel ate the scroll. It turned out to be "sweet as honey," even though he would first go in bitterness (3:14). But he internalized what God told him. He heard it himself and preached it in accordance to what God commanded.

Now, you may not be a preacher or a prophet, but there's a challenge you have as well. Are you willing to hear what God says and live and share it accordingly? The world needs fewer polished sermons and more faithful people who walk with Christ honestly and with humility and courage.

Stay blessed...john

People of God, we are noise makers.

At least, the psalmist encourages us to be. He says, "Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all the earth" (Psalm 100:1). All people from all nations share the same invitation because we know God's goodness. It is steadfast and endures for all generations. And we know we belong to God. As a result, our lives are an ongoing praise service.

Now, we often joke about our singing not being quite in tune, but at least being a noise. I'm someone who resembles that remark. So, I appreciate that even non-singers can praise with joy and conviction. Praise isn't limited by your vocal range.

But let me encourage you to think of your joyful noise a little differently. Keep singing, mind you. In fact, sing more. When you join the church in worship, sing like you want heaven to hear you. Like you've been paying attention to how good God has been to you. Also, know that the psalmist isn't just talking about singing. A literal translation of Psalm 100:1 is: Raise a shout.

A shout can be a song or a hymn, but it can also be a victory cry or an affirmation of some sort. In Joshua 6, the people of God approached Jericho. If you recall that story, they were to march around the walls of the city six days. Joshua told them to not utter a word as they did (Joshua 6:10). On the seventh day, they'd hear the trumpets blast. Then, anticipating the victory God would give them, and knowing how God had already led them, their orders were to shout.

Of course, I understand how shouting as worship might disturb some of our reverent sensibilities. But sometimes the most reverent act of worship is raising your voice to disrupt the silence of complacency and apathy around us (or within us). 

Is there a wall you're walking around? What if today's the day to raise a shout and expect God's victory?

Stay blessed...john

Admittedly, I should've waited longer to lead worship again after my transplant. Many of you were too nice to say it, but the videos prove it. I always struggle deciding where to put the line between persistence and stubbornness. I'm hopeful you can be faithful in both. Still, part of my healing was having agency again. Being able to do what I once did.

That isn't always possible, of course. But in our helping and encouragement of others, don't we want people to have their lives back as much as they can?

In Acts 9, Peter finds himself in Lydda. Some commentators suggest he has committed to searching for people in need as he travels. Whether that's accurate or not, in Lydda, Peter came across a man with a great need. Aeneas was his name, and for eight years his condition limited his life to his bed. When Peter saw him, he told him that Jesus healed him. Then he told him to make his bed.

Such a simple thing to do. It takes me two minutes. I can't imagine it would've been any more difficult in the ancient world. Maybe it took Aaneas a little bit longer that first time. But in his healing, Peter gave Aeneas control of his life. Get up and begin taking your life back with a simple task.

We want to help people as much as we can. That's a sure sign of being human. But even in our compassion, we must be mindful not to take away what people need to reclaim: their agency. The hymn reminds us that "they'll know we are Christians by our love, " and part of that love is our promise to "guard each one's dignity." Agency is dignity. So, wherever you find yourself doing God's healing work, let your help be a pathway, not a barrier, to the life God desires for others.

Stay blessed...john

Our church lost a beloved saint this weekend. She lived on earth for more than one hundred years. We have young adults today who remember her as a Sunday school teacher. That's how long she served--for as long as she could.

Over the last month or so, she became more vocal in worship. Oh, yes, she was there every Sunday--except for a couple of weeks after she fell. Lately, you'd hear her voice after a prayer or song or during the sermon. "Holy, holy," she would say.

As we hold on to our faith in Jesus, we see how our faith in Jesus has carried us. The trust we give to God isn't for a season of life. It's certainly more than a Sunday obligation. Our faith in the Lord delivers us and makes us victorious for eternity.

In Revelation 15, in what appears to be a "sea of glass mixed with fire," John sees "those who had conquered the beast." These are the people whose faith remained steadfast, even in the face of persecution. They defeated the beast by remaining faithful to the Lamb.

And that's how we live into the story of Revelation. We remain faithful. We keep "holy, holy" in our hearts so that our focus remains on the One who gives victory over sin and death. The beast looks scary and might seem in control. How could, for example, a 102-year-old woman conquer the beast? Easy. All it takes is for the faithful to stay faithful all the days of their life.

Stay blessed...john

There are holy places. That is not to suggest that God's presence or power have limits. The highest heaven cannot contain God. But we do construct and maintain sanctuaries, camps and other spaces where we experience God's grace and mercy together. And we return to them.

For most of us, church is that place. We know church, as a concept, is not a four-wall development. Church is the people called by God. Still, church as a place for God's people to gather is important.

For generations, and for some still today, church was in homes, caves or under the brush arbor. No matter where it was, where the people met was a holy place. Sacred memories enfold these places. God meets us in these places.

As a pastor, I'm usually quick to get things done. I always pause, though, when it comes to the sanctuary. People have strong feelings about changes in those places. Yes, we can have unhealthy overattachments to our pews and stained glass windows. But God does use our shared spaces to heal and shape our souls.