On the significance of the sacraments...

One of the most challenging seasons I have ever experienced in ministry came when the fellow and I stepped in to meet a need in the children's ministry of our church. I love and enjoy kids, but I don't really know what to do with them. Suffice it to say, it was a rocky couple of months.

That said, it was a season full of learning. I learned so much about joy and beauty and innocence. And I learned so much about patience and discipline and trusting God when you are certain you have nothing left to give.

One moment in which what I learned caught me by surprise came when I was trying to teach the kids why we get baptized and why we take communion. Trying to give expression in the simplest terms of something that is often described in a very complex manner proved to be no easy feat.

But in the weeks and months following that experience, and in light of all of the experiences that this season has brought us, suddenly simplicity has become far less difficult to attain.

It's fascinating to think about all of the things that Jesus never told us to do. He never told us to read ten chapters of the Bible each day. He never told us to pray long, loud, eloquent prayers. He never told us to build buildings with pristine carpet and tastefully selected pews or padded chairs. He never said dress clothes. Or three fast songs followed by three slow songs.

There's nothing wrong with these things in and of themselves. Quite the contrary, I have to believe that church traditions have been established for a reason. Over the years, these things have become traditional because they've been seen as aids in helping people to approach God and each other.

But at the end of the day, we so often forget to differentiate between the mechanisms or vehicles that we use in our pursuit and the pursuit itself.

Approaching God. Approaching each other as we approach Him together. That's it. That's the whole point. That's why we're here.

And when squabbles about the mechanisms and vehicles of that approach create distance between us, then I think it's safe to say that we've lost our focus.

That's what I've come to love most about the simplicity of the sacraments. All theological debates aside, they take us right back to the center of our faith.

In baptism the old, tormented, sin-riddled version of ourselves is laid to rest in a watery grave. And we are lifted up clean, a new creation. We die to self and to this world. We rise to Christ and to His people. Completely forgiven.

In communion, we share a meal and we remember. We remember that Christ lived. That He walked with us, that He ate with us and that He taught us of His Father. And we remember that Christ died. That He poured out His blood and that His body was broken. All to rescue us. To reconcile us to God. And, an unexpected side effect, to reconcile us to one another.

The reminders that Jesus left us of Himself take us immediately back to the heart of God and the heart of our faith: forgiveness. Forgiveness is the heart of who we are. We are a tribe that bears a simple, humble name: the redeemed. Forgiveness is our identity.

And forgiveness is also at the heart of the sacraments.

So perhaps if we practiced them more often and made a point to take note of their meaning, we wouldn't forget who we are. Perhaps if we spent more time remembering that the central reality of Christianity is that God forgives each of us and reconciles us to Himself, then we wouldn't have so much trouble reconciling to those who have wronged us. Perhaps if we remembered forgiveness and restoration to be the heart of God both for us and our competition, for our friends and our enemies, then we would have less contention and more community. Perhaps.

Perhaps if we got back to the basics, we as a people could be more united and less divided. Perhaps we could set aside our petty differences and get about the business of letting a world of broken hearts know about the redeeming love of the Healer. Perhaps the Church could be a more accurate reflection of the heart of God.

So today, I am grateful for the sacraments and for the reminder they bring to this stubborn heart. God's forgiveness has changed my entire world. And He stands at the ready to love and to forgive every single person on earth.

May He make my heart the same.

That atrocious thing - independence...

Dependency. It is not something that we like to entertain in day to day life. We have learned to stand on our own two feet, to rely on our own abilities and understanding and to make our own choices.

We go through the grind. We bark our orders. We rack up our regrets. And we try to change the lives of others with our own limited means. I have seen and I have been this ugly side of leadership. To those who I have wounded struggling to do the work of God relying only on the resources of man, I apologize. I am wholeheartedly sorry. Please forgive me. It was such a mistake.

But for my own heart and for the hearts of every leader, a simple question: why would we ever choose to lead this way?

It must be because we see no alternative option. Because who would ever elect to lead in such a painful, counter-productive fashion if there were another way?

Far too often, I forget that Jesus' instructions to the early church about how to reach the world never left us lacking His assistance. He promised to send us a Comforter, to be with us until the end of the age, to write His law upon our hearts, to fill us with His Spirit and to give us the words to speak. In His comissioning of His followers, there is not a trace of abandonment.

Jesus promises to be present.

While we strive to lead, to speak, to love and to do what He's called us to in this world, we have the full and unmistakable promise of our Savior that He will be with us. He invites us into a state of complete dependency. He never expects us to "make it;" to arrive at a place where we are no longer in need of Him.

Rather, He invites and wholeheartedly encourages us to lean on Him in every moment. To rely on His wisdom, His grace and His leading is the mark of a follower of Him. It is the life that we sign on for.

I am unashamed of my need of Him. I must have Him every moment and I make catastrophic mistakes when I am without His aid. I am not independent. And standing on my own two feet is unwise because far too often they lead me in the wrong direction. Many people have been hurt by those wrong turns in the past and I openly repent. I repent also to myself, for foolishly forcing myself to do what I was never created to: to live and to lead without relying on the Lord.

It is too great a burden for me to bear. And it is not a burden He ever asked me to bear. And I willingly and joyful lay it down at His feet and am met with such sudden relief.

With all of my imperfections and foolishness, I will not posture myself as a perfect example to follow. I will not establish myself as the one you should look to for a model of living for God.

I am broken and imperfect. But my Father loves me. And He is leading me. And I will do my best to follow Him. And the best I can hope is that we can follow Him together, depending on Him to help us do all the things that we alone cannot.

Dependency. The beauty of a God whose love matters in my living; who delights to accompany me in my living. This beauty I cannot contain in words.

It is my joy to need Him.