faith

Having faith is difficult.

We Christians like to surround ourselves with cliches and platitudes, like: "trust in God's timing" and "God controls the outcome" and "all things work together for the good of those who love God." Theologically, we know that God is sovereign and that he controls all things: he controls us in sickness and in health, in wealth and poverty, in good times and bad. And yet, so often the theologically correct answers leave the heart wanting.

Faith for those of us who do ministry can be especially hard -- at least, that's my experience. So much of what we do is directly reliant on God working on our behalf. We are necessary for the work but not sufficient for it. In fact, we're inadequate for it. As a student leader for Intervarsity (and now as a staffworker) I feel like I'm constantly living in this tension of being used for the work but being a crooked, broken tool. All too often, I see ministry failure that seems to be clearly my fault -- due to my sin, or laziness, or inadequacy. And yet the times of joyful, life-altering success I know I can't take credit for! They're the work of the Holy Spirit.

Is that what there is for us who work with the gospel? Grief for our failures, and joy for God's successes? In doing ministry I've come to really understand what it means to be a "jar of clay." God's goal for (all of us) those of us in ministry is not to use us for a specific task or to accomplish a certain end: his goal is spiritual transformation. He wants to make us more like Jesus. Because what people need is not an abstract set of theological truths, or a two-year strategic growth plan, but a relationship with Christ, who loves us.

And that can be hard for me to learn; I'd say it's taken 22 years and 4 months so far, with no sign of letting up soon. I want "it" to be all about me, even ministry. I want to be the staff with the goals and chapter growth (and prove my worth); I want to be the fundraiser who gets funded super-quickly (and proves my worth); I want to be the awesome speaker who changes students' lives. But what I see again and again is my own inadequacy and my own failures getting in the way, like a garden filled with weeds. And the wedding process is long, and difficult, and painful. So do I have faith in God pulling through?

lessons from america's pastime

I love sports. The excitement, the emotion, the drama. Pretty much any sport will do it for me, though I do have my favorites. Baseball is probably the sport I love the most. A lot of people don't understand that. I'll readily admit that it's probably not the most exciting (football) or glamorous (basketball) sport. But it's my favorite. I fell in love with the Cubs in the early 2000s during the (too brief) Pryor-Wood era, and again in 07 and 08.

The last two years have been rough on my poor Cubbies, but I haven't lose that initial thrill. I love stats, trade rumors, Pat (not Ron) on the radio, and Len and Bob. When you follow a team for 162 games a summer, you always feel like you get to know the players and the coaches a little bit. There's a sense of camaraderie among the fans that other sports lack, too...the games are more relaxed and social. And we all share a LOT of suffering over the course of the season.

But baseball's about the long hall. It's about consistently grinding it out and being disciplined and self-motivated. Some days you bat .600 and drive in a bunch of runs. Some days you go up to the plate and strike out every time. Baseball is about a long obedience in the same direction. It's a journey, not a destination.

You can probably see were I'm going with this. Baseball is like fundraising! I've been thinking about this a lot this summer, and I'm making this comparison half in jest and half in seriousness. Fundraising requires discipline and dedication. You have to grind it out over a long period of time. You have to sell your supporters on a compelling vision (winning the World Series!) and convince them that you can make that vision reality with their help.

Batters hate to strike out. But what a lot of people don't know if they don't follow baseball is there are two different kinds of strikeouts. There's a swinging stirkeout, where the batter swing but just misses the ball and strikes out. But there's also a looking (or called) strikeout. In those, the batter doesn't swing but the pitch is called a strike and he's out anyway.

I've been learning that it's always better to take a swinging strike. Fundraising involves a lot of strikeouts. I've certainly had my fair share (more than my fair share, sometimes it feels like). But recently instead of chickening out on calls I've made them expecting rejection. And you know what? It's not that bad. It doesn't feel that bad at all. And I'm encouraged by knowing that I tried.

what are you looking for?

I spent the last 10 days at Orientation for New Staff with InterVarsity Christian Fellowship. We spent the time being trained in fund development, partnership, evangelism, multiethnicity, and how to do the many jobs of a campus staffworker.

Some of the highlights for me personally were visiting the national headquarters, talking baseball with the president Alec Hill, making fundraising calls together one night, and of course finally learning 6-handed euchre.

I'm inspired by the bold history we have here at InterVarsity. We are a movement built on the boldness, faithfulness, and courage of very special men and women of God. I stand in the shadows of these giants, a person blessed by their ministry and obedience. I feel encouraged, but also ashamed. I often feel I'm so utterly unworthy to serve God. I can't fundraise. I don't disciple well. I'm not bold in evangelism.

Last night we had a time of extended worship and God really met me with conviction and blessing. I'm reminded again of my desperate need for God and my all-consuming desire to be where he is.

Living and fundraising on my own has been so tiring these past 6 months. I've had no comfort, no closeness, and little spiritual life to speak of. Circumstances and my own sin have combined and I've had so few success in following God -- both in fundraising and in my own spiritual life. I have no community, no accountability, and by myself I am too weak to follow God. I've doubted the presence of God in my life.

But there's Jesus. And there's no one like Jesus. Hakuna mungu kama wewe. Palibe ofana ndi yesu.

Tonight I was feeling really down right after dinner, and I'm not sure why. I've been jealous of the presence of God in the lives and ministries of others lately. I've been bitter and angry, mostly at myself. And that's so disgusting. But I think a lot o what my mysterious emotion was was a fear of what will happen when I'm back home. This week I've felt like I could take on the world with God at my side. Next week, will I wonder if he's even there?

I'm reminded of the verse in the NT that describes how the Holy Spirit prays on our behalf when we don't know the words to pray. Spirit, will you pray through me? I'm frayed, broken, and heartsick instead of joyful and inspired. Will you restore my spiritual health and heal my physical tiredness? Will you protect me from the devil who is trying to undermine all the good work you've done already?

With red eyes, what are you looking for?
With red eyes, red eyes

(in this needle and haystack life
i've found miracles there in your eyes
it's no accident we're here tonight
we are once in a lifetime)

an open letter to money

Dear Money,

We're not the best of friends, right now. I've started to really resent you, and the attitude everyone has about you. True, there are still people you haven't quite corrupted yet. But for the most part it seems like you have everyone inside your nasty green-fingered grasp. I'm no exception; I believe it's been quite some time since I last gave any of my money away, for example. Actually, it hasn't been that long, but my check bounced and I was instantly pissed at myself for giving as much as I did. Whoops!

Last night I was talking over my IV budget with my parents and comparing my monthly income with expected monthly expenditures. I had considered not putting a line in to avoid arguments, but thought it might be a good opportunity to talk to my parents about my attitude towards money and make it into a witnessing moment. Instead, they got really mad at me. My dad thinks I shouldn't give any money away at mall. My mom argued that I didn't have to give away 10% anymore (I *know* that...but decided not to explain that I felt like that was a minimum).

It just frustrates me. So many people in the world live on so little, we have no right to get as uptight as we do about money in the US. The stats on Christian giving make me sick. It disgusts me that we give so little percentage wise, but it looks like a lot because we were born with more money than anyone else. I hate that whenever we *do* give money, the donors and the charity-givers become heroes and saviors.

Oh, well, money. We certainly can't break up, because I know I can't live without you. But man, this relationship is awkward right now.

Greg

why i loved cfw

If you don't know, CFW (Chapter Focus Week) is InterVarsity's annual end-of-the-year training camp for students at Cedar Campus in Michigan. Students flee to the Upper Peninsula for a week after finals to rest, recreate, be trained, and make space for God.

This year, rather than going with my peers and being trained to reach U of I, I went up to staff the week and spend time getting to know the students I'll be working with next year at SIU-Carbondale. And my conclusion: they're such a good bunch of kids. I was involved in training students to lead Bible studies during the week; spent time with them praying and worshiping; stayed in the same cabin as my students (which led to getting pranked at least three times); and got to spend time hiking and playing volleyball with the kids God is preparing me to minister to next school year.

I loved it. Absolutely loved it. I only spent one week with them, and I know no chapter is perfect, but the SIU chapter feels like a breath of fresh air. They are students with a deep, living faith that informs everything they do. They are the most missional bunch of students I've ever met. They are vulnerable and honest with each other. And God is doing a mighty work in their midst -- their chapter has doubled in size, reached out to so many non-Christians, and the chapter seems poised for even more growth and outreach.

Honestly, it was like a breath of fresh air. I spent my last semester in InterVarsity leadership extremely frustrated. My spiritual community was a mess. I had a vision for outreach that I thought God had given me but that few other people seemed to value. Most people involved in my little section of IV turned their back on our mission, and among those who didn't it seemed like they were having a different spiritual crisis every week. I constantly felt worn down, exhausted, and hopeless -- and really hurt, as numerous times a few people would do or say things to others in our community that were like slapping me in the face. And I was constantly frustrated by leadership structures that strangled the vitality out of my faith.

So many of the values that I missed and longed for in Allen Hall are present in the SIUC chapter. I was floored even just by the way they pray for each other. It felt like God was taking that week to say to me "Greg, that desire you had to see a witnessing community was right and valid. I am who you thought I was (and so much more, but we'll save that for later). I did call you to student ministry." So many of the doubts I've been having vanished in the sunlight of Michigan (it was 70 there all week! I wore shorts!)

every tribe, every tongue, every nation
hallelujah, he reigns

hallelujah, every breath is a second chance

Alright God,

So here's what I need. I need a big week to encourage me in fundraising. I need a big week to remind me why I was so confident you were calling me to IV staff. I need to be reminded that You are at work far more than I am, and that this whole thing is about Your mission, Your plan, and Your love for me. That it's not about me.

And by "big week" I don't mean I want a week where you bring in hundreds of dollars (though that would be AWESOME). I mean I need a big helping of your strength. I can't do fundraising on my own anymore. I need your voice, your encouragement. I need you to help me make calls and deal with both rejection and acceptance. I need your presence.

Amen.

hallelujah, i'm caving in
hallelujah, i'm in love again
hallelujah, i'm a wretched man
hallelujah, every breath is a second chance

word, yo.

This year Easter kind of snuck up on me. I mean, I knew it was coming obviously. I can read a calendar. But it seemed – spiritually insignificant. My relationship with God has been lacking (non-existent?) of late, and so Easter did not bring joy and thankfulness and worship. I basically ignored Holy Week (spent it flaking on fundraising). My Lent sacrifice had lasted all of 5 days, I think.

My ideas of the resurrection this year were really strongly influenced by all the thinking I’ve been doing about the Incarnation since Urbana. The Word of God put on flesh and moved into my neighborhood. It’s been such a powerful idea for me for the last couple months. The far-off King of the Universe decided to come near to all of us, and to me.

I remember the art piece from Urbana with the tap dancing and spoken word. It’s such an awesome illustration of the Incarnation. I think of God’s work in my life as this constant rhythm now. Can I hear it? Sometimes more clearly than others. Sometimes not so much, like this past month.

But any understanding of the Incarnation is incomplete without Easter. God moved into our block not only to be with us, but to die for us. Wow. And then he rose from the dead. And so did we.