Christianity Doesn’t Work for Me

Christianity Doesn’t Work for Me

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Working downtown often leads to unexpected encounters. Not long ago the sun was finally making an appearance in the midwinter sky. Although the air still had a bite, I couldn’t resist the lure of the sun on my face. Sure, I had a reasonable lunch in the fridge, but sometimes a short walk to my favorite lunch destination is the wise choice.

There’s always a line at Boston. The food is the best downtown and they move folks through in a hurry, though. Even if the line appears excessive, the wait is never long and the food is always worth it. As I flew through the revolving door into the art deco lobby, I ran into an old friend. Literally. We brushed ourselves off and began to catch up while waiting in line. 

It’s easy for friends to drift apart. Nothing traumatic needs to happen…we can just naturally drift when our paths stop crossing frequently. That had happened with Pete. We began to catch up like long lost brothers, sharing the latest about our jobs, spouses, and kids, and then pivoting into those hopes and dreams that seemed so important to us all those years ago. By the time we had our sandwiches and sat down, we were going deep. He always had a passion for service and for the work of the church, so that was a natural trail for the conversation to follow. 

“Nope. Not anymore. Those were good times, but I’m not doing that now. Life gets busy. Kids grow up. Seasons change.” 

I hear excuses like that frequently, but I wasn’t expecting it from Pete. He and his family always seemed so…engaged. Captivated. All in. I sensed there was more to the story, so I responded, “Pete, I never would’ve expected that from you. That love you had was deep. Did something happen?”

“To tell you the truth, most people are satisfied with that answer and leave it alone. I should’ve known you’d dig! Honestly, after following that path until I was at the end of my rope I made a discovery. Christianity doesn’t work for me. The last straw was when we were prepping for a mission trip a few years ago. This was before the kiddos moved out, and we were excited to go as a family. As we were finalizing the last details, we got a call from the financial secretary. The money for the trip was gone. Transportation, food, lodging, supplies, and all the other miscellaneous things that kids had been fundraising for…all gone. In the grand scheme of things, it wasn’t a lot of money…18K or so. Not enough to retire on, but way too much to scramble for at the last minute. We were devastated. What had happened? That was the worst part. A staff member at the church drained the account and left town. The church decided not to press charges because they didn’t think it’d be the Christian thing to do.”

“So, Dave, that was it. Seeing the pain my kids endured…the loss and the grief…watching them process the betrayal by those they loved, looked up to, and trusted…that was too much for me. I had to walk away. That’s when I realized Christianity doesn’t work for me.” 

I was shocked. Although I knew where he attended, those details were unknown to me. I guess they didn’t make the news. My heart broke for him and for his family. That pain is deep. Real. Visceral, even, especially for a father who loves his family as much as I knew Pete did. 

“Wow, Pete. I had no idea. I can’t even imagine how badly that hurt.”

We continued to talk for a bit. We both had hurts to share as well as some great successes to celebrate. It was great to catch up over a Cuban. We promised to try our best to reconnect more frequently, both probably somewhat aware we would again fail miserably. After a quick bro-hug, we went our separate ways back to our offices. 

As I walked back my mind went back to that phrase, “Christianity doesn’t work for me.” It seemed to be working for me, even through numerous hurts. But there was something more to it I was trying to pin down. Walking that last block back to the office, it hit me while waiting for the “walk” sign. I’m not a Christian because it works or doesn’t work. That would be what’s called pragmatism. Pragmatic people go with what works, without digging too deeply into the hows and whys. For some people, they grab onto a belief system that works for them in their current life situations and goals. It works within the crowd they’re running with. It’s “true” to them because “it works.”

That’s a common way to believe. In fact, when it comes to religious belief it’s likely the most common way to believe. Even people who adopt the beliefs of their parents fall into this category. It “works for them” to believe what their parents believe for many reasons…a big one is that it makes things easier at home. What they find in large numbers is that when they move to the next phase of their lives, something other than the beliefs of their parents work even better for them, as they discover new friends and new life goals. They cling to entirely different and even contradictory systems of thought and belief in each season of life.

We have a tendency to divide the things that shape our lives into “things that are true” and “things that work for me.” The former are things like putting gas in the tank of your car, showing up to work, and keeping enough money in the bank to cover the bills. What falls into the latter are things like morality, our view of humanity, questions about what happens when we die, how we should develop and maintain relationships. All the questions that tend to be covered by spiritual beliefs–even if claiming to have none–often fall into the category of pragmatism. They are malleable and fluid.

This pragmatic approach kind of makes sense within many different religious systems (and non-religious systems). In fact, they demand it, because although they attempt to explain the way those elusive things are, they don’t claim to be empirically true or verifiable. Christianity isn’t like that, though. Christianity boldly claims to not just explain how we got here, where we’re going, and how we should live…it claims to be true. Like…really and totally true. Christianity properly understood corresponds to the reality we live in when we test it. 

In 1 Corinthians 15:14, Paul says “…if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation is in vain, and so is your faith.” Paul most likely wrote this around 20 years after the crucifixion. Not only were Peter, John, and many other disciples still alive, there were countless other eyewitnesses to the crucifixion and resurrection. Paul was inviting challenges at a time when it was still possible for eyewitnesses to prove him (and the basis of Christianity) wrong.

Back in my atheist days I would boldly (and naively) claim that science couldn’t prove the existence of God. Faith was nothing more than wishful thinking without evidence. But this claim from Paul invites a challenge from a discipline that predates science. It’s a truth that can be investigated historically, and has been.

When I endure the inevitable trials of life, I don’t walk away from Christianity. When I am hurt and even betrayed by those claiming to be representatives of Christ, I don’t contemplate if Jesus is working for me or not. I can’t. I’ve scoured the evidence for Christianity and the experiences of Christianity and found that I’m standing on solid ground even in the storms. It has been thoroughly tested and holds true. And so when I struggle and when I wrestle with doubt, the words of Peter in John 6:68-69 come to mind, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and know that you are the Holy One of God.”

I hope Pete and I run into each other again soon. I know he has seen the goodness of God, and I’m looking forward to reminding him of where our hope is anchored. 

Condemning Condemnation

Condemning Condemnation

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Condemnation. It’s such a harsh word. The noble goal of our culture in recent years is acceptance. Those two seem to stand in harsh opposition. Acceptance is loving and welcoming. Condemning seems to carry with it disapproval and hate. 

Recently verse 17 of the 3rd chapter of the Gospel of John has been used to condemn condemnation by positioning Jesus as the great affirmer. This verse follows the most famous verse in Scripture and says “For God did not send His Son into the world to condemn the world, but to save the world through Him.” At first glance it appears we have a friend in Jesus in our quest to affirm and accept…He didn’t come to condemn! 

There is a challenge we face if we attempt to draw that lesson from this verse, though. The Bible isn’t a fortune cookie, and so we generally can’t simply grab a sentence we like and draw broad conclusions. There is a coherent, consistent overarching message in scripture. Each historical narrative, poem, letter, and sermon provides an important puzzle piece illuminating the grand message. In short, it all fits together to tell us about God, His plan, mankind, and our purpose in His mission.

Before digging into John 3, it’s good to revisit that overall metanarrative. The story of the Bible is that God created and sustains everything that is, was, and ever will be. Among other things, He is good, He is love, and what He created was glorious. Humans were created in His image and were given stewardship over creation. God’s design for humans was for us to live in relational harmony with each other and with Him. Humans turned from God, though. Even today, we turn from Him both by nature and by our own choice. Every single one of us.

That’s the root of our problem…we were designed to live life in an intimate relationship with God and turning away has left us deeply unsatisfied, but our tendency is to double-down…even though we know our judgment is imperfect, we stubbornly pursue the paths we think will make us whole again. The uncomfortable truth is, we don’t have it in us. We simply aren’t capable of bridging the chasm between ourselves and our deepest need…our Creator. We have run too far. You might even say that in our current circumstances, we are condemned to a life separated from God. 

Now snap back to John 3…that’s right where Jesus is meeting us. God–our Creator–loves us so much He sent His only Son so that anyone who places his or her trust in Him will be reconciled to God (16). Jesus did not come into this world to condemn the world (17)…it was already condemned without Him! If we make it to verse 18, it says “…anyone who does not believe is already condemned…” In verse 19 it tells us that Jesus is the light and “people loved darkness rather than the light because their deeds were evil.” That’s the story of all of us. We’ve lived in the darkness that comes from being isolated from Him. We’re comfortable in the dark and so we shun the light.

What I’ve learned from both Scripture and personal experience is that Jesus meets us where we are. Whatever lifestyle we’re living, whatever we may be worshiping, and whatever speed we may be running from Him. Wherever we are, we can simply turn and discover He’s right there with His arms ready to embrace us. He already knows us deeply and loves us wholly. When we turn to Him, we place our trust entirely in Him. It’s a humble acknowledgment that our Creator knows more about His creation than we do. Although we may recoil against some of the implications of the life He calls us to, we trust and know He is good, He knows everything, designed everything, He is wise, and He loves us. We can trust Him. And so when Jesus meets us where we are, He doesn’t leave us there. When we turn to embrace and trust Him, we don’t turn back! We continue drawing nearer to Him and following Him, even if it means our old life slips away. Honestly, we know it wasn’t working anyway. But like a childhood stuffed animal or an old, favorite sweatshirt…it can be hard to walk away from the things that gave us comfort before we knew Him.

The lesson we learn from leaning into Scripture is that Jesus doesn’t come into the world to condemn us because we are already condemned without Him. The great news is that Jesus knows us fully and loves us deeply…in fact, He is the only one who truly can. The message the world screams at us is that we are fine the way we are. We are captains of our own fate, we are the masters of our souls. These days this is called affirmation and acceptance. But true affirmation acknowledges more than just our preference and inclinations…it acknowledges our circumstance, our loneliness, our pain, and our longings. It acknowledges our weariness. And love doesn’t leave us there. Jesus won’t leave us there.

Contend!

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Contend for the faith… I’ve been wrestling with this verse all week. That’s kind of funny because the Greek word for “contend” has an athletic connotation to it. Wrestle. Fight. Struggle. It seems there is much of that everywhere I look.

It’s easy to stumble across verses like this and misinterpret them as a clarion call to declare war against those outside the faith. That wasn’t Jude’s intent. His warning and call to action was to fight for the faith within the church. As we read the rest of the verse we see an implication staggering to our modern, enlightened minds. Stating that the Christian faith was “delivered to the saints once for all” is a bold claim that God’s truth doesn’t change. It says there was a message delivered by Jesus in the early 30s AD and that message has not changed.

By the time Jude was writing this just a few decades later, there were people inside the church claiming to have new interpretations, revelations, and applications of God’s truth. They claimed that truth changes with the time and culture. They claimed God adapts to each generation. They claimed that if Jesus were ministering on earth today, His message would be similar, but different. What Jude knew and what we must realize is that those outside the church will always disagree with the believers. That’s to be expected. Although our deep desire is for them to agree with us, our methods are different than wrestling and “contending.” But when those inside the faith begin to undermine and distort God’s truth…that’s when we are called to contend.

And so Jude’s clarion call was for those inside the church to wrestle with God’s timeless truths. We are to recognize that His truth never changes and the redemptive work Jesus left for His followers is the exact same as the day He ascended. And the beauty of it is that we aren’t called to quell conversation. We aren’t called to fight using the weapons of this world, but with grace and without compromise. Each generation brings relevant challenges which need to be fleshed out anew in a way that refines our understanding but will never undermine it. This is precisely what has happened countless times over the years, from the Jerusalem Council in Acts to the Council of Nicaea, the Council of Chalcedon, and countless others.

Jude’s challenge is a call to be both wise and humble with our discernment, carefully and intentionally train others in the skill and art of Scripture Interpretation and Godly living, so that when we are gone the faith that was delivered to the saints once for all will continue to be in good hands. If our most precious beliefs were given once for all, it is our duty to diligent seek the timeless Biblical truths that apply to all people in all places at all times, today, yesterday, and tomorrow. Every claim about our faith must meet this standard, and if it does we must contend for it to remain treasured and undistorted.

On The Road

On The Road

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This classic post first appeared on my blog close to 10 years ago. It seems timely today so I am resurrecting it here.

Oh the irony. I remember all those times I drew comparisons between following God’s plan and driving on the highway. How many times have I told people that when God wants you to exit, there will be signs? If you miss them, there will be more chances. Just stay alert.

Nice metaphor as long as your car keeps cruising along. I never counted on a breakdown. I suppose we rarely see those coming. Now it’s apparently broken beyond repair. No mechanic in sight. It’s sickening to think of how much work I’ve put into it, too. Making it shiny. Putting gas in the tank, polishing the chrome. This was my pride and joy. It got me where I needed to go.

So how do I keep cruising down the highway? Well, I’ve still got feet. So I keep walking that highway. It’s the direction that’s important, right? As long as I kept pushing myself up that mountain, everything would work out, just a bit more slowly than I had planned.

The wanderer

The road wasn’t made for walking, so I branched off. I saw a sign. I knew I was supposed to head into the woods. In fact, in retrospect I thought it was a blessing that the car broke down. I would have missed this lovely path entirely if I had continued at 60 miles per hour! I told myself I was grateful I decided to walk. 

Oh, but my legs ached. They screamed. I’d been pushing so hard. Tired, hungry, and thirsty, I cried out, “God where are you?” I never could have uttered those four words from the comfort of the air conditioned car. Now they were all I had left. Still, I kept trudging along. I knew that if I just worked hard enough, I would find what I needed. I’d find Him.

The forest provided no relief. The cool shade became a chilly darkness. Between the critters and the exhaustion, it felt like there were enemies everywhere. Adrenaline provided the nourishment my body craved, pushing me forward. Lost and utterly alone, I kept putting one foot in front of the other. I kept repeating “I can do this. I can find Him.” I can’t tell you I believed it, though.

To call it a clearing would be generous. There was a space ahead where the shadows were weighed less. I didn’t know if it I could make it, but I decided that was my destination. It would all end there. It was all I had. As I got closer, I saw a bench. It was old and worn, crafted from an ancient tree.

The Path

I plopped down harder than I meant to. The pain shooting up my backbone from my tailbone was the final insult. I was done. I found the end of myself. I sat with my elbows on my knees and my head in my hands. No words were on my lips, I was well past anything resembling coherency. I interlocked my fingers behind my head as it sank lower, almost to my knees. The warmth of the salty tears streaming down my face didn’t do a thing to ease the shadowy chill.

Then I felt a hand on my shoulder. I was too far gone to jump. Whoever it was, he could do whatever he wanted. I was done. I felt him circle around and plop down beside me. The hand became an arm across my shoulders, attempting to comfort me. That arm became two, pulling me close. He held my head to his chest, like a father does a son who just lost his first pet. I could feel his tears on my neck as he gently whispered, “I’m here. I’ve got you. Now and forever, my beautiful son.”

“I have said these things to you, that in me you may have peace. In the world you will have tribulation. But take heart; I have overcome the world.”

John 16:33

Bottles, Boats, and Beliefs

Bottles, Boats, and Beliefs

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Then those who were in the boat worshipped him, saying “Truly you are the Son of God.”

Matthew 14:33

This little verse is easy to skip over. The 5,000 had just been fed, Jesus just walked on water, and Peter boldly stepped out of the boat. It’s easy to focus on the miracles and miss the meaning and message.

Our week in Aracaju started with a walk. The warm ocean breeze had us blissfully chatting and praying as we went. It was nice to be away from the stifling Oklahoma heat. As we turned onto the next block, a chill overtook us.

Groups of men were gathered in front of a few houses. The street was full of empty bottles and loud music. The men were obviously quite drunk. It was 9 o’clock Sunday morning. Although we couldn’t understand their comments, I was suddenly extremely aware of the fact that I was the only guy walking along with five women. Trust me, I’m hardly the one dude any lady would want to rely on in a throw-down.

After a few years of promising economic growth, Brazil was in a downturn the year we visited Aracaju. As jobs were lost and hardship set in, people found comfort in whatever they could grab. The men we wandered into were unfortunately typical. Hardship led to addiction, which also led to abuse. Families were fractured. Each moment spent in drunken numbness have tragic ripples for eternity.

“If it’s you, command me to join you,” Peter said. Jesus said, “Come.” (Mt 14:28-29)

The miracle of bread was not enough. Walking on water was not enough. Peter still wasn’t sure. Who was this guy? Teacher? Miracle worker? Could He be something even greater?

To the men on the street, we offered what we had: prayer and truth, hope and light. But those numbed by the distractions of this world simply can’t hear. Intoxication is denial. In numbing the pain, everything else is shut out as well. In forgetting about the harsh, real-word they lived in, these guys closed themselves from the invitation of Jesus, “come.”

That we were even there was a miracle. A few dozen Okies traveling thousands of miles to talk about Jesus with the people in an overlooked neighborhood of an overlooked town? There’s no logical explanation. Many people we met wanted to hear about the United States. They’re eager to talk about Michael Jordan or Barack Obama. They ask if we’ve met Brad Pitt. But when we tell them about Jesus, many shake their head and take another swig from the bottle in the brown paper bag. “He might have been a teacher, or even a miracle worker. But that’s all.”

Jesus calls: “come.”

Peter steps out of the boat. He accepts the invitation into so much more. That’s where we find this often overlooked verse. They’re back in the boat with Him, but now something has changed. They worship Him. Jesus knows that only God is worthy of worship. The disciples know it, too. Jesus does not stop them, though. Given this confirmation, they find the words that match their actions, “Truly you are the Son of God.”

We prayed for those drunk men. We prayed for every neighborhood around that chapel build. The warm ocean breeze returned and accompanied us most of the week. Aracaju is a beautiful town. Children were playing beneath cashew trees on most streets. The last few days we were there, house after house after house that we visited all came to know Jesus. We saw miracles, but never lost sight of the message or its meaning. And we worshipped.

Everywhere we go, we see the same pattern. Some marvel at the miracles. Some mock them. And some accept the invitation Jesus so graciously give, “Come.” And they worship.

A Great Light

A Great Light

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The people living in darkness have seen a great light…

Matthew 4:16
Itabi, Sergipe, Brazil

Of all the imagery used to describe the call of our Creator, my favorite is darkness to light. This motif moves me to look at where I’ve been and where I am while looking ahead to what is to come.

Imagine sitting in a windowless room. The door is shut and there are no obvious sources of light, although a murky twilight fills the room. A life lived here may feel complete. Having never glimpsed a sunrise or a starry night sky, you would never long for the beauty that only light can reveal. Surrounded by others in the same state, you would not necessarily be lonely, even if you feel incomplete. You never hear anyone describe trees or puppies or Van Gogh’s Starry Night. Everyone you know is in this darkness together, assuming this is all there is. On some level would you feel a nagging sense of discontent? Would your gut long for more? Would your soul cry out to be filled without even knowing what you lacked?

One day a stranger arrives. He describes a life that is at the edges of your comprehension. Unimaginable yet plausible. Although his tales of flowers, waterfalls, blue skies, and mountain peaks sound intriguing, they also sound bit fanciful. You wonder if it could be true…Is it possible to see in full the things that are currently only imperfectly imagined? Is there more in creation than what we realized?

This metaphor has limits but the spiritual analogy holds. Darkness leads to hopelessness and resignation. Not knowing what light looks like leads to searches for fulfillment in a thousand things that can never satisfy and were never intended to. Living in spiritual darkness, we seek relationships, material things, or indulgence to fill the void. As we repeatedly come up empty, we slide into desperation or denial. The only two obvious paths are either more vigilant efforts to fill ourselves up (i.e. try harder) or to settle into a state of reluctant acceptance (i.e. lowered expectations). We think our only options are to define our own meaning or deny that meaning exists.

It’s into this desperate hopelessness the glimmer of our Creator’s light shines. Perhaps a light comes on in the next room and leaks under the door of your dark room. A warm, inviting glow breaks through the dreariness saying “come and see.” Do you stay in the familiar darkness or move toward the light? In Matthew 4:6, Jesus quotes Isaiah 9, who is in turn speaking of Jesus. From the beginning, God has been reaching out to us. He calls us with and into a great light. The Prince of Peace brings the fullness of what God foreshadowed from the beginning.

The town of Itabi (eee-tah-bee) is a small and lush town nestled among rocky hills. Having lived there for years, most of the people I met are blind to the ever-present beauty. Through the eyes of an outsider, each overlook and slope full of precariously balanced rocks are simply spectacular. The perspective residents share are of being overlooked and forgotten by the world. Many feel resigned or even condemned to a life that is less than that of people in the “big city.” The good life is more than elusive, it’s unobtainable. We met many people who had turned to alcohol to numb the dreariness of mere existence. Many had been neglected or abused by those who had selfishly sought meaning in life through power, control, and indulgence. There were intricate, tangled webs of abuse cycles from which no one seemed to be able to break free. It was remarkably similar to how people are in my home town. Everywhere, people are seeking satisfaction and comfort in places that can only bring deeper darkness.

But life doesn’t have to be like that. We are called out of the darkness and into the marvelous light. Immanuel means “God with us.” God Himself comes to us, breaking into the darkness with light. The Creator enters Creation, stepping into the muck and darkness that can consume us. Through Him, the Gospel brings good news to all of us, everywhere. In Him we can find peace. We can find rest. We can find joy.

Two years ago God used our little mission team to bring this good news to a small town in Brazil. Lives were changed. Eternal destinies were secured. These experiences in Itabi continue to ripple throughout my mind as they echo throughout the world. God’s light is calling to every person in every people group everywhere in the world. The invitation is open.

The Door Opens

The Door Opens

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“…to the one who knocks, the door will be opened.” Luke 11:9

It’s a new dawn. It’s a new day. It’s a new life for me. And I’m feeling good. – Nina Simone

Suspense movies fascinated me as a kid. Hitchcock films taught me that closed doors provide one of the most terrifying moments of fear on the big screen. Anything could be behind it. The music builds and the door fills the screen as the camera inches ever closer. The rattle of the doorknob brings me to the seat’s edge…my heartbeat quickens. The door suddenly springing open always results in a good scare and frantic jump. It didn’t matter if opening the door revealed a fluffy kitten or a psychotic killer, the anticipation could drive me to the edge of a panic attack. It was thrilling. Like a great roller coaster, I would seek it out again and again.

Doors protect us from the unknown. They can also keep us from stepping into new opportunities and new life. The imagery of a door is used in Scripture repeatedly. In Luke 11, Jesus tells a parable of a desperate man. He needs a few loaves of bread, but the door to get the bread is locked. Even so, in his “shameless boldness,” he pounds on the door until it is opened and he receives what he needs.

New Year’s Day is a door. Behind it we may find adventure or tragedy, beauty or pain. Like Hitchcock’s doors, the thought of what could be behind it can cause anxiety spikes. Despite the uncertainty, we have no choice but to step through. What we can choose is our posture as we walk through. Are we anxious, gingerly stepping into the unknown full of trepidation with our heads hung low? Or are we eager to let go of what’s behind us as we boldly march into whatever may come next?

Jesus refers to Himself both as the bread and as the door. Bread provides nourishment and life. The door provides entry into new life. As we open the door to enter into a new year, we find that we long for both. Deep down we have a hunger that nothing in this world seems to satisfy. We have a longing for truth and purpose that cannot be filled by our resolutions and hard work. We need more. We need Him.

As you enter this new dawn and this new day, reflect on the words of Jesus. Like the man in the parable, we cannot fill ourselves. We will never find satisfaction or peace by scribbling on the pages of our own lives. Approach Jesus…knock on that door with shameless boldness. Give control of your life over to Him, allowing Him to write the pages of your story. Instead of clinging to our own desperate efforts to control our destiny, cling to the truth I found scrawled on a wall in Itabi, Brazil: “Deus é Fiel.” God is Faithful. As we let that sink in, we can walk into the new day feeling good.

This post is the first of twelve in a series. For three years I have been selling calendars full of my photography to support our mission trips to Brazil. This year I’ve put together a truly special calendar with photos from my 8 trips to Brazil. On the first of each month a post will go live that complements what is found on the calendar for that month. If you don’t yet have a calendar and would like one, please let me know. They are $20 (plus shipping if necessary) and all proceeds go toward the Brazil mission trip to Pontos do Volantes in the state of Minas Gerais, Brazil.

One Chapter

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Every Christian I know holds the Bible in high regard. We carry them dutifully to church every week, own multiple copies, and download Bible apps to our phones. Unfortunately, despite our reverence for God’s Word and its extreme availability, surveys show both Biblical literacy and Scripture intake are at their lowest in generations. Why is it that those of us who earnestly believe the Bible to be the inerrant Word of God struggle to integrate it into our lives? Honestly, the why doesn’t even matter. The real question is what do we do about it?

When I became a Christian at 32, I thought I had a lot of catching up to do. Unlike so many others, I didn’t grow up attending church regularly. Within a year of coming to faith, I was diving into Scripture for the first time. As I poured over the pages and got to know the histories, parables, wisdom, and poetry, it was life-changing. There have been innumerable things that have stretched and deepened my Christian walk, but none so much as getting into God’s Word. This is why I’m passionate about helping others get into the Word.

Many of us fall into the routine of attending weekly services to be taught. We’ve been lulled into thinking a half-hour on Sunday is all we need in order to know and understand God and His will for us. I believe I speak on behalf of most preachers when I say their deep desire is for every believer to learn to read and interpret scripture personally. Sunday morning is the cherry on top of our weekly walk with God, it is not intended to be our sole soul sustenance.

At the beginning of this year I invited a few friends to get into the Word with me. We started in Luke and then moved to Acts. It was an incredible time of growth, community, and encouragement. The plan was reasonable and a bunch of us moved through it. Last week I invited my friends to get back on the journey with me. This time we’re going through the entire New Testament. 260 chapters. If we read five days a week, it will take exactly one year. The five-days-a-week plan gives us the flexibility to miss a day or two without getting too far behind. If we find ourselves a week behind, it’s still easy to catch up.

To help everyone out, I’ve got a Facebook group going. We can post encouragement, insights, and questions while also helping with accountability. Jump in any time you like, we’re right HERE.

I keep referring to this as a “bookmark plan” because if you’re using a physical Bible all you need is a bookmark. No checklists are necessary. Just move your bookmark every day and you’ll always know where you are. However…because many people love checklists, I’ve created one for you here: 260 Day Plan.

Join the journey. Get into the Word until the Word gets into you. Our first goal is to get into the habit of getting into Scripture. We’ll share tips along the way and introduce more ideas to help get you deeper into the Word and draw nearer to God.

Where’s John?

Where’s John?

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I embarked on a communal journey through scripture way back in January. A bunch of brave and slightly crazy folks joined in, committing to read about a chapter a day in Luke and then Acts. Signposts and reflections of that journey have appeared here along the way. As planned, we made it though Luke in four weeks and then through Acts in the following four. Although there were no formal checklists, I personally found it helpful to write a quick reflection on my personal Facebook after each day’s reading. This had an additional benefit of reminding everyone we were still moving along together. The encouragement I received also helped motivate me to continue daily.

As the end of the Book of Acts approached, there were questions regarding where this journey would go next. A couple of my original goals were to encourage others to read chapters rather than verses, demystify Bible reading, and foster a love for God’s Word in the people of God. When the end approached, it was clear many people were finding new joy and life in the Word and that the journey should continue. And so…we boldly dove into the Gospel of John.

But…then…the rhythm got off somehow. The daily sharing and accountability became inconsistent and essentially stopped. In the past month or so, I’ve made it through John 11. I fully intend to continue reading and sharing, but want to share the “behind the scenes” happenings and lessons since we began the Gospel of John. In other words, what’s happening in the Bouchard Bubble? Where’s John?

First: Filled

I’ve often encouraged others to “serve as an overflow.” In other words, become so spiritually full that the work of God spills out of us. To posture ourselves in the opposite way–serving in order to receive from God–is fruitless and leads not to God but to burn-out. I have found that it’s vital that followers of Christ “fill up” through personal discipleship habits. Our community gatherings can be refreshing, but it’s our daily habits that keep us turned toward our Savior. As my life got a bit chaotic, I recognized that there were things I simply had to let drop. Although the side of me that seeks the affirmation of others wanted to push through John and enjoy the feedback and encouragement I was receiving from so many of you, the wiser path was to let that drop. A piece of me still hoped I could fit it in every day, but it simply didn’t happen.

The public “chapter a day” posts are a ministry. It falls into that “overflow” category. Although those posts dried up, I have personally continued to stay in the Word daily. I don’t often publicly talk about my scripture intake. Honestly, it’s the spiritual discipline I find easiest and enjoy the most. Not everyone has the same experience, so I stay quiet. Even though I haven’t been pushing through John, I am 100% caught up on my personal “Bible in a Year” plan. Last fall I began supplementing that with a plan that involves reading one Psalm per day out loud. Both of these provide spiritual nourishment that sustains me through darker days and fuels ministry when things are going well. My hope and prayer is that through this dry spell, all of you have continue exploring and enjoying the Word of God on your own as well.

Second: Opposition

Many of you already know that I’ve been pursuing a Master’s degree in Theological Studies. I began that journey in the Fall of 2014 and completed my FINAL class on March 8, 2018 (woot, woot). A Master’s degree is a lot of work and a lot of stress. It’s interesting to note that our reading of Luke/Acts coincided with my final class and John didn’t kick off until class was over. Because of the timing, I thought I’d have ample extra time to spend on John. However…

Although some people erroneously think I’m a relatively laid-back person, I’m actually naturally quite tense. Throughout seminary, I never was able to be content to simply pass class (okay…or even get a B). Although my grades likely will never be relevant to any circumstance I face in this life (or the next), I just couldn’t help but overachieve in every class. Looking back, I realize now that adrenaline had been a vital sustaining fluid for the past few years. Once class was over…well, let’s just say there was a bit of a crash. In the weeks since, I’ve been discovering a new and healthy rhythm of life. This has been thrown off by a random case of strep throat and a huge, high-pressure implementation at my day job. In addition to those big things, it seems as if there have been a thousand tiny gnats of darkness buzzing around my head for the past month. I’d love to say every bit of opposition is in the past. It’s not, but surely it’s back to normal levels.

Finally: The Layers of John

I said this when we started and quite a few times since: John is deep and layered. The first couple of times I shared about Luke, I summarized it in a few words. Every now and then I’d write a bit more. People kept reading in spite of the length, so I threw caution to the wind and began just saying what I had to say about each chapter. This worked well through Luke and Acts. The reason I picked those to begin with is because they are so matter-of-fact. Although there is depth to be explored, it tends to be historical but still approachable by most of us today. John, on the other hand, is full of depth impossible to even scratch in a single rambling Facebook post. Honestly, it’s a bit intimidating and I’ve shied away from it.

The Gospel of John is beautiful and life-changing. As I write reflections about it, I’m balancing the goal of demystifying scripture while attempting to remaining true to the depths of the text. During our walk through Luke and Acts, I would pretty much share off the top of my head after reading the chapter. With John, I tend to reference a few commentaries before I share. Perhaps I’m returning to my old ways and setting a higher standard for myself than is truly necessary. Even so…this is where the path has led and so it is what I will follow.

What’s next?

I’d love to continue this path through the Gospel of John. One thing I’ve learned in my decade or so of following Jesus is that persistence is a more valuable trait than perfection. I invite you to persist with me in this journey. I’m again setting a goal of a chapter per day, starting with John 12. Come along with me. If there is anything I can do to assist your journey, please reach out.

The Beginning

The Beginning

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Our Story

As our calendars changed from ‘17 to ‘18, a bunch of us embarked on a journey through scripture together. There are no checklists or daily reminders. There is no guilt or condemnation. Our strategy is grace-filled engagement with the Bible. The guideline I recommended was about a chapter per day through Luke and then Acts. The goal was to discover the joy of the habit of reading God’s Word. And we did it.

What’s next?

As the end of Acts approached, it was clear that this journey must continue. After a week of rest and grace, today we are starting the Gospel of John.

What to expect

The Gospel of John is quite different from Luke. As I mentioned during our Luke/Acts reading, when you spend time in the Word, you begin to recognize the voices of the writers. John is poetic and sweeping, as opposed to the matter-of-fact gritty writing of Luke. John is more concerned with ideas and themes than chronology. When we read it straight-through, we tend to assume the events happen in the order they are presented. That’s the way we tell stories today. In first century literature it was common to arrange a story by themes instead. We get a bit of that in this book. It progresses sort of in order (with the beginning of Jesus ministry at the beginning and the crucifixion/resurrection at the end) but not entirely in order. Even Luke did that a little bit in his Gospel, but not as much as John.

Although we don’t have a firm date on when this was written, it is widely accepted to be the last of Gospels. Matthew, Mark, and Luke were all written much earlier and have quite a bit of overlap. John, on the other hand, has more unique material in it than any other Gospel. As we read Luke/Acts, I share that they were written in the late 50s to mid-60s AD. John was likely written somewhere around 70-100 AD. Historical writings outside the Bible tell us that John died around the year 100 AD, and the leaders of the early church (many of whom would have known John personally) tell us that this book was written late in his life. So as you read this, imagine a wise and gentle old man reading it to you. Once known as one of the “sons of thunder,” as he grew older he picked up the name “the beloved disciple.” He was a leader in the early church, likely writing this Gospel from the church in Ephesus.

Why did John write?

The book of Ecclesiastes tells us “there is nothing new under the sun.” Even in Paul’s day (and he died way back around 65 AD), people were claiming that Jesus was an enlightened or inspired man but was not God. Some claimed He was a special man who had divinely revealed special knowledge from God. People claimed to have new and special knowledge from God to supplement the teachings of Jesus. These same claims are being made today. As the eyewitnesses died out and these new and false teachings became more widespread, he took up his pen and recorded what he knew to be true. He writes as an eyewitness to the life and teachings of Jesus, but also as a wise leader who has seen the tragic consequences false leaders who twist the truth. Just like Luke, the Gospel of John confronts you with the most important question of our lives, “who is Jesus?” John begins his answer in the very first sentence.

As we soak in the sweepingly poetic writing of John, we’ll see that he beautifully records the most important things he knows about Jesus. This book is one that a new believer can read and come away with increased knowledge and faith. It also is so layered that we can return to it over and over again for the rest of our lives and never fully plumb its depths. As you read, two things to look out for are the miracles and “I am” statements of Jesus. The other Gospels have numerous miracles. This book has seven. Each is recorded in order to affirm an important truth about who Jesus is and what He has dominion over. There are also seven sets of “I am” statements. Each of these reveals something important about Jesus. Pay attention to them. Let me know what you think.

Finally…let me know if there is anything I can do to support you in reading this book. I’ve been posting a few thoughts on the chapter on my personal Facebook timeline as we go, but I am open to other options. I have a public Facebook page as well and can share there instead (if someone asks me to). As always, feel free to shoot questions my way any time. Let’s pray for each other as we continue our journey together.