The Mined of Christ

“But he knows the way that I take; when he has tested me, I will come forth as gold.  My feet have closely followed his steps; I have kept to his way without turning aside.  I have not departed from the commands of his lips; I have treasured the words of his mouth more than my daily bread.”  Job 23:10-12

Job, in his journey of holiness, is confronted with a faith fork in the road.  It is a crisis of belief that will determine the path ahead.  The road on the left is paved with the philosophies of his buddies.  It is a self-made theology that says “you just need to do more to be at peace with God.” Good ol’ Eliphaz bubbles over with his babbling beliefs…

“Submit to God and be at peace with him…”  Eliphaz is basically pointing out the supposed sin in Job’s life.  “Surely,” he would say, “God is testing you in order to deal with and cut away all the sin in your life.  Boy, Job, you must really be out of fellowship with God.”   Ever had a friend like that?  They seem to always have the right answers in their hip pocket.  They toss out their religious jargon offering up simple solutions.  Yet, the road to holiness is not always paved so clearly.  Faith is believing even when you don’t see the road ahead.  Faith is driving without your lights on.  It does not always involve the simple, quick-fix methods that some want to offer up.

So, Job takes the other path.  The path of trusting obedience.  The path of simple faith.  He answers in the next chapter with something that is profoundly applicable for our individual journeys. The testing that God allowed in his life was for the purpose of bringing forth the gold of integrity and character.  He had been faithful.  He had been keeping God’s Word.  Was he perfect?  Of course not.  Yet, his heart was set on journey. 

Testing is God’s tool of mining the heart of every believer.  To mine is to go deep in order to find treasure and gold.  To get there, you must cut through layers of dirt and rubble.  But that is not the goal.  The goal and ultimate desire is to find hidden treasure.  Hidden treasure is only found in the depths of the earth.

Deep within every believer is a gold mine, a treasure beyond measure.  It is the hidden character of Christ.  The fruit of His Spirit.  The mind of Christ.  These jewels are buried deep within the heart of the chosen ones.  Yet, they need to be discovered.  They need to be mined.  So, God uses testings and trials to reveal and expose these treasures.  Certainly there are layers of sin and pride that must be carved through.  There is much earthy dirt and rubble that must be hammered through.  Yet, that is not the goal.  God’s desire is to mine deep in order to bring forth the mind of Christ.  To have the mind of Christ, you must be the “mined” of Christ. 

Today, be thankful for seasons of testing.  Others, even friends, may try to offer up man-made solutions about your unique journey.  They may say that you are out of fellowship with God.  They may want to concentrate on the rubble in your road.  Though their path looks paved and well manicured…be cautious.  To steer clear of testing is to steer clear of God.  Embrace the testing as the mining tool of God.  Get ready to go deep.              

Reading the Bible

"Reading the Bible, if we do not do it rightly, can get us into a lot of trouble. The Christian community is as concerned with how we read the Bible as that we read it. It is not sufficient to place a Bible in a person's hands with the command, "Read it." That is quite as foolish as putting a set of car keys in an adolescent's hands, giving him a Honda, and saying, "Drive it." And just as dangerous. The danger is that in having our hands on a piece of technology, we will use it ignorantly, endangering our lives and the lives of those around us; or that, intoxicated with the power that the technology gives us, we will use it ruthlessly and violently."
--from Eat This Book by Eugene Peterson

Funeral After-thoughts

Attended a funeral today of a 30 year old man...4 years younger than me. Tragic and sudden death that left behind a wife and 2 daughters. It was a weird but convicting experience for me. The little, white church was filled to capacity with an emotional thickness in the room. No one plans for this kind of farewell. And many showed up to convey their love and support of the family.

During the service, there were hymns sung and scriptures read. The pastor shared some biblical truths and reminders about resurrection and hope. Typical funeral stuff...except for one man that spoke...Brian.

Brian was a close friend of the young man that died. He essentially gave the "sermon" today. What he shared was real, it was honest. He spoke about his relationship and shared some fun memories. But, at the end, he talked about grieving and hope being in partnership. He talked about providing "space" to grieve in moving forward. It did not provide clean-cut answers with formulas and solutions. It left much mystery. The way he communicated invited you in...to participate and struggle. It was unusually biblical and Jesus-like. Almost story-like...parable-like.

To the point that it has me blogging about it late tonight when I could be doing other things. I'm still having funeral after-thoughts.

And here is where I'm really hit with the events of today. Who and what would be shared at my funeral...if it would have happened today? Now, I know that is kind of a morbid thought...or is it? I'm not referring to some "Stephen Covey" exercise where you "begin with the end in mind" and plan your own funeral.
No, I'm referring to who really knows me.
Who would stand and express the truths of my life?
What would be said?
I'm not talking about when I'm 78 and dying. I'm talking about right now.
Am I living my life in such a way, day to day, that life would be communicated in death?

I do have a love-hate relationship with funerals. I hate to see people hurt and grieve. I hate to see flimsy proclamation from funeral pulpits. I hate to see doors of grieving closed in order to highlight hope. Aren't the doorways to hope and grief on the same hinge? I hate to see funerals and processions rushed so that we can "get back to our lives". I hate caskets. I hate death.

But I love the honesty and necessity of wrestling with life when viewing death. Funerals make me think. They force me to see the brevity of life. They compel me to hold my kids a little closer tonight...and put off that "have-to" project for another tomorrow. They invite me to participate in community not just give it lip-service. Funerals help me to see that the means and the end are inseparable. Good endings happen...when the means are fought for.

So, today has really settled me and unsettled me...and I am thankful for both.

expecting...

expecting is a word that can mean many things...
*hoping
*looking forward to
*to wait
*to suppose

well, how about another Hemphill is on the way...were you expecting that???

Patterned responses

Excerpt from "The Search for Freedom" by Robert S. McGee:

"These patterns develop at a time when we are in poor condition to make good choices. To help you grasp this, let me use as an example something that happened a few months ago when I had my appendix removed. While in the hospital, my attention was riveted to one of two things: either the pain I felt or the relief that the morphine brought. Many of my friends called or visited during the hours following my surgery, or at least they told me they did. I don't remember some of them.

Let's suppose a person called several days after my surgery to inform me that he had visited shortly after my operation and that I had signed all types of business agreements. Some of these arrangements, as it turns out, were extremely detrimental to me. As you might expect, I would not accept the legality of any documents I signed or verbal agreements I made. I would have such decisions set aside on the basis that my reasoning was extremely impaired. Both my visitor and I would clearly know this to be true.

Yet there was a time in my life when my judgment was even more impaired than during my recent post-surgery haze. It was during the first several years of my life. My thought processes were essentially dictated by those around me. Other people taught me what they believed to be truth (or, at least, what they wanted me to think truth was). Eventually, these truths became absolute convictions--about myself, the people around me, and the world in general. These basic convictions then became patterns of responding to myself and to other people. I can tell what I really believe by how I respond to life, not what I say I believe."

My Fam Pic

latest pic from Christmas 08 of my family... (left to right)
Brett, my Dad Carl, Ty, My Mom Shelbie, Me, and Rich

this pic was taken in front of my parents' home in Zephyrhills, FL. they live in a retirement community...referred to on their neighborhood sign as "an elegant retirement community". our favorite part about visiting is the community pool where we can all swim. we just have to make sure we go after the morning exercise group and not during "adult only" time. the rules of retirement living!!!

hard to believe how we are all getting older. i am the youngest of 4 boys. i hope you also notice from the pic that Ty is wearing the best shirt ever...ROLL TIDE!!!

Pastors are too damn busy

Eugene Peterson quoted from Leadership magazine.
In this interview, Peterson is talking about listening reflectively to scripture. He is specifically talking about pastors and the need to learn the art of spiritual reading.

"It takes practice. Pastors have to practice it first; they must enter into it. And in order to do that, pastors simply have to quit being in such a damn big hurry. Pastors are the busiest people in the world--always making an appointment or rushing to a meeting. They have no time to listen.
I think pastors are the worst listeners. We're so used to speaking, teaching, giving answers. We must learn to be quiet, quit being so verbal, learn to pay attention to what's going on, and listen.
It's not only about listening to the Bible, it's about listening to people--taking time to hear the nuances in their voices and language, and repeat what we're hearing. We're all very poorly educated in this business."

Some reading this blog are more distburbed by the word "damn" in the blog title and quote than the fact that pastors are dying by the day. Eugene Peterson is a sage in my life and has taught me more about pastoring than most. I had the privilege of growing up with a pastor/father. My dad pastored small Baptist churches for over 35 years. I watched him shepherd some of the most difficult people. I watched him visit hospitals, hold hands with the dying, and walk with peoople through their stuff. My dad is not a megachurch pastor...never got the salary or notoriety. But he pastored well. And he still is to this day.

I was once in that trap that Peterson referred to. Spent several years climbing the ladder and filling my day with busyness. I almost lost my family over it. It is a part of my addiction and recovery...the intoxication of pastoring and people-approval. So, yes, I'm recovering from this. I still take a hit of this drug every now and then. But I am choosing a new road now. The pastoring I am doing is much more unseen. It is much less noticed...atleast in human eyes. But I actually feel like I'm working with God instead of for God. Everything is not riding on me. And I actually slow down enough to enjoy my wife, my sons, my friends, and my community. Some days I feel guilty for "enjoying" ministry. I was never taught that in church.

So, here I am...34 years old. A ragamuffin being redeemed. A vagabond minister living full-time on support and barely paying my bills. Attending a megachurch that once paid my salary. Now I am a church member...that is something new to me. Still striving at times and struggling with who I am. But, at the same time, more content than ever to be who I am. Pastoring is not an occupation or career for me. It is the way I try to live and walk with people. It is much more the overflow of daily walking with God and people. I have more questions than answers. I have more doubts/fears than faith to match it. But I am proudly a prodigal-come-home who has now been privileged to shepherd God's people. Thanks Father for prophets/sages like Eugene Peterson who remind me to slow down and not be in such a damn big hurry!!!