Relentless Grace

Recently I have grown increasingly aware of God’s relentless grace patiently and quietly pursuing me. In spite of all my arguments, excuses, and accusations against him, he continues to follow, refusing to let go, refusing to let me remain unchanged.

I haven’t always thought I needed to change much: I grew up in a strong, loving, Christ-following family. I’ve had good self-confidence since I was young, bolstered by success that has come fairly easily. I married a woman with an equally strong upbringing, whose talents continue to amaze me, and together we have three kids with good looks, better-than-average intelligence, and winsome personalities. The stories of transformation I'd heard usually involved radical change from lives of addiction, abuse, crime, and so on.

I wonder, though, if transformation is actually harder for those whose depravity is less obvious. I don't hear people talking about being transformed from lives of pride or greed. Maybe their pride led them to an affair, or their greed resulted in drug addiction, and they later repented and were changed from those very public signs of brokenness. But the underlying sins? The pride, the greed, the gluttony? No, I don't think I've ever heard a lifelong Christian talk about being transformed from those.

I'm pretty introspective, and the challenges that I've faced over the past few years - failure, unemployment, spiritual doubts - have turned me inward. In the valley it is easy to be misled by one's inner thoughts; inappropriate self-doubt can creep in. At the same time, reflection can reveal truth about ourselves that has been hidden under layers of worldly success and well-practiced confidence. The trick is to sort through, to weed out the truth from the error, the wheat from the chaff, so to speak. And to figure out what to do about the truth that needs to be transformed. And, hardest of all, to submit to God's transforming work.

I don't know how a caterpillar feels when it's in a cocoon or a bird in an egg. I don't think either is a particularly comfortable position, though. Neither is transformation. It's hard, painful, challenging, terribly uncomfortable. It's also necessary, and can't be rushed. Yet God's grace is relentless, pursuing us in and through the process of changing us to reflect more of his image...the image in which we were created in the first place. And that can't be bad!

Attack of the Angry Squirrel!

I was upstairs looking for some bandages for my 9-year-old daughter's skinned knee, when all of a sudden I heard a blood-curdling scream, "There's a SQUIRREL in the bathroom!!!!!", followed by running footsteps. I ran downstairs to find Molly standing, breathless, pinned against the hallway wall with saucer-sized eyes and racing breath. From the bathroom - door now closed - I heard the unmistakable sound of a small, terrified animal running, jumping, and knocking things off shelves in a desperate but vain attempt to find an escape from this white prison!

Being the brave but animal-loving hunter that I am, I entered the prison cell with thoughts of gently coaxing the unwanted captive to freedom. He would hear nothing of it. Quicker than jolly old Saint Nick, the little grey fuzzball jumped from the floor to a 5-foot-high wall shelf, to another on an adjacent wall, then along the counter, before scurrying up the open medicine cabinet and into the farthest corner of the top shelf...where it crouched and chattered and tried to hide.

I opened the window, surveyed the situation, then went out and closed the door. I hoped he would smell freedom in the fresh air wafting from his exterior home, and would run out on his own. In the meantime, I donned my best protective gear: thick denim jacket, leather gloves, and the "Indiana Jones" hat (nothing like his, really) that had so recently protected my head in Liberia. I also got a broom to help with the coaxing. My son Morgan, always ready to help(?!), started loading his 400-feet-per second air soft rifle with sniper scope, but I wasn't quite ready for that.

Reentering the cell, there was my scared little friend, still huddled tightly in the corner of the medicine cabinet. (I'm still not sure who, at this point, was more scared: the squirrel or my hyperventilating daughter!) The broom handle, prodding ever so gently, did nothing but make the squirrel hoarse with chattering. I called for a net...which, of course, no one could find. A cardboard box was found, though, and I tried for several minutes to coax, prod, bump, or startle the little antagonist - not so much a friend anymore - into the safety of the dark box. He, of course, was having none of it.

Ten minutes later, with no progress having been made on either side of the bathroom door, I once again left. Now I was on a mission; I was going to get that thing out of the house one way or another. I looked briefly for some wire, thinking about making a snare, but couldn't find any. Instead, I found the fishing net and returned. I also took Morgan's air soft rifle as an absolute last resort. (Air Soft, by the way, is similar to paint ball, but without the paint. It uses plastic pellets that, from a distance, won't do much more than raise a welt on a person. I'm not sure what a rifle would do to a squirrel at point blank range, though, and I was really hoping not to have to find out.) I also took the camera with me and set it on a shelf, hoping to capture the excitement...and the squirrel!

After several more minutes of coaxing, poking, prodding, and sweeping with both ends of the broom, the squirrel finally jumped out of its corner right into my waiting net, where it scrambled as much as it could to get free. I held the broom above and moved quickly to the open window. Holding the net out, I realized that there was no roof overhang below...just 25 feet of air above the wood deck below. Having not studied squirrels prior to this, I had no idea what would happen to it if I just dropped him. And I didn't particularly want to find out.

At this point, Eileen stuck her head in the bathroom door, with my son behind her, just as I was opting for Plan B - go back out through the front door. As they backed out of the way, I went into the hallway...just as that doggone squirrel got a grip on the broom, scrambled on top of it, and jumped down onto the wood floor! I yelled to Eileen to close the kitchen door, while Morgan chased the squirrel through the entry way, dining room, kitchen, and - finally - into the garage! (Of course, it turned the wrong way and didn't go out into the great outdoors as it ought to have! We believe - though there are no witnesses - that it did eventually return to its family.)

You can watch most of this. The audio isn't particularly exciting, but you can hear the squirrel growling!. The real action takes place in about 30 seconds halfway through, but here is the uncut, unedited, unscripted real reality TV!

Happy Birthday!

Some adults reaching their 40s try to make one last, desperate attempt to hang onto the past. Maybe they buy a sports car, take a vacation in the Caribbean, or - like the characters in the movie "City Slickers" - try to prove their masculinity by spending a week driving cattle! Others realize that it's about time to finally grow up. They put away the "Grecian formula" and stop worrying about the strands of grey that increasingly pepper their hair. They decide to stick with a job for longer than just a few years. They begin to think seriously about what it means to raise their kids to be responsible adults (and just in time, too!). They may begin to question some of those things they've been so certain about for so long, whether it's religion or politics or the importance of pro sports!

Next month marks my 40th "birthday" as a Christian and I find myself wrestling with similar issues on a spiritual level. It was easy when I was a kid to simply believe that God is good, He's always loved me, and as long as I believe in Him I'll go to heaven. But I find myself now struggling with really knowing God. My Dad asked me a couple months ago what I thought God thinks of me. After a few moments of pondering, I realized that the one word standing out in my mind is "disappointed." I'm sure part of that comes simply from the realization of how many times I have let down my wife (and others) in ways big and small. But as I've continued to think about my dad's question and my response, I just can't seem to shake the feeling that, in spite of my very real, very strong, very heartfelt desire to serve God and glorify Him, I nonetheless fail frequently, and each time I do, I feel God's haunting look of disappointment. (What's even more concerning is that I'm afraid I'm giving my 13-year-old son reason to feel the same from me. At least I have some cognitive theological recognition that my view of God may be slightly skewed; I'm not sure my son does yet.)

At an even more personal level, I am at the same time struggling with allowing God to truly transform me - my actions as well as my view of Him. I'm afraid of what the short-term impact of that transformation may be: Will all my hidden sins be broadcast for the world to see? Will my wife and family accept a transformed me? What will transformation cost me? It is a colossal struggle that Paul captured well in Romans 7, a battle between good and evil, light and dark, Luke and Darth Vader (sorry!).... Maybe I am less concerned with the outcome than I am with the process - I want the result but not the struggle, the gold medal but not the marathon.

In less than a month I'll be going to Liberia, with the conviction (from others who know the country far better than me) that it is a land in need of transformation. But how can I bring that message when I am so desperate for the same? I hope and pray that God will reveal Himself to me in new ways in these last weeks, that I may go with the hope-filled message that God can and does work in us, even when we struggle against Him. I go with the hope that if God can use a murdering fundamentalist like Saul/Paul, then certainly He can use me, too.

NTS 510 Texts for Sale

Three of these texts are required for NTS 510; Methodical Bible Study is collateral reading. All are brand-new (Metzger is still in the plastic wrapper!); I purchased them through Amazon a year ago, but do not anticipate taking the course and want to make them available to another student at my cost – an average savings of 30.5% versus retail and the same price you’d pay today on Amazon. (In full disclosure, Greenlee is currently available for $11.53.)

Shipping/delivery options will be arranged by e-mail.

If you want to buy through PayPal, click the links below. There is a separate link for each book, one for the three required texts, and one for all four.

Greenlee (required)

Metzger (required)

Osborne (required)

Traina (collateral)

Three required texts (Greenlee, Metzger, Osborne)

All texts

We Will Believe...

Directly across from me, leaning back against a tree, sat the family patriarch. He looked 75 but was likely 15-20 years younger. Around us sat his family – young children, teenagers, and a few perhaps in their early 20s. My hosts brought me a small stool on which to sit, and for the next 30 or 40 minutes we talked about my faith and theirs, the Bible and the Q’ran, about Jesus and Islam. Several times, the patriarch – I never got his name – told me, “What you say is good.” As we concluded our conversation he invited us to return the next day to talk more, but with regret I explained that this was our last day in the area. Repeating his affirmation, “what you say is good,” he added, “We will believe, me and my family. Not today, but probably in two or three days, we will believe.”

“We will believe….” The words of this patriarch have come back to me again and again – sometimes almost hauntingly – in the three years since I sat with him in Ethiopia. I have prayed for him and his family often, and long to return and meet him again. Perhaps I will, or perhaps we will only meet when we stand together before the throne of Jesus.

This fall I have the opportunity to travel once again to Africa – not to Ethiopia, but to Liberia on the west coast. This oldest of African republics was devastated by civil war over the past two decades – a war that left 250,000 dead, thousands more displaced, a nation in economic ruin, and rampant corruption and unemployment. Significant portions of Monrovia, the capital, remain without electricity and running water.

Our global pastor, Josh Butler, and his wife, Holly, were recently in Monrovia. Read her first impressions: "The city is glum, there is trash piled everywhere and most buildings are either bombed out and empty, bombed out and being used still, or made out of pieces of trash. The poverty here is extreme."

Our church here in Portland, Imago Dei Community, wants to be part of the solution in Liberia, and so we are beginning what we anticipate will be a long-term partnership with key Christian leaders there. In the midst of the corruption and largely ineffectual progress in other relief projects, the integrity and wisdom of these leaders has attracted the attention of the very highest levels of government.

In October, I will join an 11-person team from Imago Dei going to Monrovia to join the work already in progress. Mount Barclay, a refugee camp outside Monrovia, is home to about 15,000 residents living in abject poverty. Last September, working with Liberian pastor Saah Joseph, a Portland-based organization called Plan Loving Adoptions Now dedicated a school that now hosts 600 children in the Mount Barclay region. These children either walk or are driven to the school from several villages – requiring two vans and multiple trips per day!

Our team will focus on four primary needs:

• Additional construction work on the elementary school, a kitchen, and a secure storage facility


• Counseling and job skills training for girls transitioning out of prostitution


• Pastoral training with local church leaders


• Long-term strategic planning for our partnership

Over the past few years, God has been impressing upon me the changing role of the American church in global evangelization. While in Liberia, I will not only be helping with construction, but also listening to and learning from the pastors and other leaders there, with an ear specifically toward understanding how Imago Dei and other US churches can best support and serve our brothers and sisters in Liberia. (This will also benefit my seminary studies, as I was recently approved to do an “individualized study” course I designed on “Developing a Church-Based Short-Term Mission Strategy.”)

Of course, a trip like this is expensive – but what price do we put on the lives of people who may gain eternal life through our efforts? What is the value of the patriarch and his family with whom I sat under a tree in 2005? Or a child, orphaned by war, whose future is bleak except for the hope offered by a good education, healthy food, and loving caregivers? Imago Dei – an eight-year-old church – has already contributed more than $12,000 toward the construction needs, plus thousands more toward clean water wells in Liberia and elsewhere.

Eileen and I have prayed for this opportunity and the lifelong impact we believe it will have…for Imago Dei, for Liberia, and even for our family. We would ask you to pray about whether and how you might help make it possible for me to go. We would love to have your prayers, your encouragement, and your financial support.

Would you take a moment right now to pray for this opportunity? As God leads, please contact me for specific information on how you can support me.

- Randy

Short-Term Missions

Welcome, MMI readers! Thanks to Todd Rhoades of MMI, I read a good Washington Post article about the changing face of short-term missions. You can read Todd's post and the followup comments here, as well as link to the WP article.

What I'd like to hear is what your churches are doing in the way of missions...specifically short-term missions (STM). Hear are some things I'd love to know; feel free to go beyond these questions, though:

• How does STM fit into your broader mission strategy? (Does it? Do you have a broader strategy?)
• Do you have an ongoing relationship/partnership with a western/US-based mission agency through which you implement your STM strategy? Who/what? What is the focus?
• Do you have ongoing relationships/partnerships with non-western agencies or churches?
• Do you have a particular focus area? If so, how did you identify that?
• What is the nature of your involvement? (e.g., relief, development, evangelism, medical, etc.)
• How do you select and prepare short-term missionaries/teams? What do you do "post-field" with your team, the people you visited, the senders/supporters, etc.?
• How do you seek to get your whole church engaged, versus merely the "mission zealots" (my term!)?

Finally, what is the one thing you wish you did better?

Taking Jesus Seriously - Part II

Rereading my last post, I realize that I wasn't terribly focused. I went from Shane Claiborne to the righteous rich kid (aka "the rich young ruler") to God dealing with oppression throughout the Bible to a guilt trip because I'm in the classic oppressing group (white male American Republican evangelical Christian)...to trying to figure out how to battle oppression from within. Kind of a dizzying post, I must admit, so let me step back a bit and try to focus on two related questions: first, was Jesus serious when he spoke?; and second, what would it mean for me if he really was serious?

So, was Jesus serious when he spoke? I'm not talking about whether he was making jokes, but did he mean what he said? When he told the rich kid to sell everything, was he really asking the guy to do that, or was he exaggerating to make a point? When he said to turn the other cheek, did he mean it? Or when he said that you can't be his disciple if you don't hate your mom? I know there are hermeneutical principles we need to know and understand that will help answer these questions. I also know how easy it could be to explain away any significant meaning behind Jesus' words; and in doing so, to justify my desire to not take him seriously. Which leads to my second question...

What would it mean for me if he really was serious? This is where guys like Shane Claiborne make me just a bit uncomfortable...because they take Jesus seriously, and they live it out. Not that they do it perfectly, mind you, but they're trying. So when they read about Jesus taking care of the poor, they figure they ought to do that, too. When Jesus talks about feeding the hungry and clothing the naked, they do it. And when they do, it really messes me up, because I figure if they're taking him seriously, maybe I need to, too!

One thing about Jesus, though: he didn't seem to say the same thing to different people too often. Not that he was inconsistent, mind you; rather, he individualized his message. Go figure - he met people where they were at and spoke to their particular need. So when the rich kid asks how to get eternal life, Jesus hits at what's keeping him from having it: stuff. When he sees a diminutive tax collector up in a tree straining for the slightest glimpse, Jesus goes the distance by inviting himself over for dinner. When Peter boldly proclaims his undying devotion, Jesus points out the chicken within.

So to figure out what it means for me to take Jesus seriously, I have to open myself to his probing eyes and words. I have to let him look into my fears, my idols, my security blankets (which are little more than rags)...and I have to open my ears to him, to whatever he might say to me. And more than likely, whatever he says is probably going to be difficult in some way - it might mean giving up something I don't think I can live without; or looking foolish to someone...maybe even someone I'd like to impress; or displeasing parents. It may look radical and unconventional and countercultural and...well, it probably is.

Take a look at Jer 42. Some people come to Jeremiah, asking him to ask God about something and promising to do whatever God says, good or bad. But when Jeremiah tells them the message, they respond, "you're lying!" Not the most charitable or faithful response, huh? I wonder how many times I've done that?

I'm sure I'll be pondering this some more; I hope I get a chance to write more, too.