The Missional Church

Implications of Christ’s Ascension—Part II

We left off yesterday in the story of Jesus’ post-resurrection, pre-ascension period with just a glimpse of the magnitude of the commission he was imparting to his disciples. The Savior, loved and followed, was patiently instructing them on the basics of his identity, his purpose in coming, the relational implications of his crucifixion (redemption and forgiveness), and the importance of making him known throughout the world. Peter in particular was singled out to “feed my sheep,” (John 21:15-19), but all were sent to become “fishers of [people]” (Matthew 4:19). Regardless of the particulars, the disciples heard their commission as a […]

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Ascension Thursday—Part I

I am feeling particularly grateful for the discipline of writing this blog, mostly because I have failed to produce anything in the last week and am reminded of how it keeps me centered if I do. The good news is that my energy level is near normal and I have been busy re-entering my world, including going back to active duty (part time) at the church I have served. No excuses here, just an observation that the writer’s life is a lot harder to structure than you might think! Life happens, people call, requests come in, and whoosh! There goes

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Casting a Wider Net

Ministry transitions are sometimes difficult to navigate. There is always the pesky need to “make a living” while following Jesus into the unknown. In the hour-long Q & A with almost 200 Ugandan pastors last August, one of the dominant themes was financial support for the pastors who desired to work in the ministry full-time. They were frustrated because the overwhelming demands of pastoral care and the need to work a job that would pay their living expenses clashed. The deep poverty of their parishioners—a pastoral care issue in its own right—meant that the community did not have the funds

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Unbind Her and Let Her Go!

The evening after my lung surgery I was tethered to my bed. No, I wasn’t handcuffed to the bedframe, but I might as well have been. There were nine different ties holding me down: automatic leg compressors wrapped around my calves, a surgical drain from my side, a catheter, a blood-pressure cuff, five leads adhered to my torso for the EKG and respiration counter, an IV in each hand, another PICC line, and an oxygen thingy stuck in my nose. These various input and output devices gave medical staff signals as to my wellbeing and access for treatment. Through them

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People Need Some Good News

Yesterday I got to meet with my “Peet’s Ladies,” fellow gym enthusiasts who gather daily for coffee at Peet’s next door after their workouts. They saw me through the window coming into the coffee shop, and it was a joyful reunion. We sat down for a cuppa and caught up with each other. My prayer list for each one was renewed, and they were encouraged to see me with their own eyes and know that I was doing well. During all this treatment for my lung cancer since November, I have had a steady parade of home visits from friends,

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The Law of Love in Missional Endeavor

After two good weeks of being on my own between chemotherapy rounds— lonesome for the stimulation of daily conversation with care-giving friends—yesterday at the start of Round 3 my day was full of interesting dialogue. I find myself “rehearsing” my blog topics and get the most interesting feedback!  We’ve been talking about a missional mindset and its implications for evangelism and outreach at the personal level. My last two posts (here and here) explored our mission field of the religiously allergic and our own reticence to take risks in order to convey the gospel to them. Today, I would like

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Nothing, and Everything, to Lose

In my last post, I observed that the religiously allergic around us need a winsome witness to the gospel and that we must enter into the sort of discipleship practices that will help us give it. Perhaps my readers have had a chance to think about their own resistance to this calling, and in order to do that thoroughly it is wise to count the cost and face it head-on. When we do so, the cost loses its deterrent power over us and puts us into a position to see the mighty hand of God at work in and through

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Suppressed Immunities

As my blood counts sink lower, my immunity to “normal” disease and viruses diminishes. Yesterday’s trip to the nurse practitioner for my periodic check-up assessed my vulnerability, which turns out not to be too bad yet. The numbers of white blood cells and hemoglobin are going down, suggesting caution, but this is normal and par for the course. It shows the chemotherapy is doing its job. The advice was, Go ahead to the Aquarium because it is not packed with people and is a wide-open space. But now would be the time to avoid packed-like-sardines scenarios (I translate that to

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Spurring One Another On

Cancer treatment varies depending on the type and stage of one’s particular disease. The protocols tend to be repetitive and cyclical. In my case, chemotherapy runs on a four-week cycle:  one week plus one day “on,” and the remainder of the four weeks “off,” recovering. By the time Week Four rolls around, I am feeling pretty good, almost normal! This is one of those weeks, and I am getting a lot of things done around the house as a result. I’ve been through two complete rounds, and Round Three of chemo begins next Monday. I can pretty much plan on

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The Great Cloud of Witnesses

The daily radiation treatment has become a quiet time for me, albeit a short, disciplined pause in my morning. Because I must lie very still and relax in an awkward position held in my custom-made cradle, I have found it helpful and even entertaining to let my “holy imagination” roam for those precious twelve minutes or so. Yesterday, my thoughts drifted to the “men [and women] behind the curtain.” I gave thanks to God first of all for the technicians in their cockpit behind that 3-foot lead wall, pushing the buttons and running the computer program that governs the radiation

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