live fully alive

The line always catches me. It’s stuck on my bumper. It’s in Rob Bell’s “Bullhorn” DVD — which I’ve watched 3 times in the past 2 weeks. It’s the message of Jesus Christ. It’s truth.

LOVE WINS!

The words I speak into the lives of my youth and church come from my heart, which has been touched by the message of love. Within my heart is a passion and desire that comes from deep in the depths of my soul, a place so sacred and so holy that it can only be inhabited by a Lover who has captured my heart. A Lover who knew me before birth, who loved me even before I was conceived. This love knows no match, and this Lover gives it freely without even batting an eye at all my failures and scars.

I speak words and trust that God takes them and does something so holy, so remarkable, something that only He can do in the lives of those I speak to. But, aye, how those words of mine are limited when I fail to put them in action myself!

Being in full-time ministry puts me in an akward position. I challenge those I minister to live deeply, fully, and passionately. To step out of their comfort zones and experience God in new ways. Yet, I often find myself living shallow, doing enough to make it through the day, and not living fully impassioned. Serving in full-time ministry serves as a point of accountability for me — am I living the way I am challenging my youth to live? If not, should I really be calling them to something that even I am not participating in?

Today was a defining moment in my pursuit of living fully alive. I woke up around 8am with the biggest headache and feeling like I had hardly even slept the night before — even though I had slept close to 9 hours. This has been my busiest week in ministry here in Oregon… and I could definitely feel the effects. I decided to take the morning off and head to church after lunch.

Creating youth group directory… getting copies of parent info packets… planning for youth group… planning events… reviewing events… All of these items were on my list to get done today. I didn’t get to any of them. Before I even got to my office, I stopped in the copy room (where the church answering machine is) and noticed there was 1 new message on the answering machine. Essentially, it went like this…

“Hi, this is Ginger Buckley, I’m trying to get ahold of my father-in-law who lives on Warthen Road, a few miles down the street from your church. He doesn’t have a phone, and I need someone to tell him that his son & daughter-in-law are coming to visit him. If you get this message in the next hour, please call me back and let me know if you can help. Thanks.”

(name changed for confidentiality)

I played the message at least 5 times, telling myself I simply heard wrong and they had gotten the wrong number. Recollections of my words I spoke to the church on Sunday night started playing back in my head — “what would happen if as Christians we took time every day to show our love for others by helping out, showing God through our actions? Giving a hand when someone was in need of a favor?” … I questioned my sanity and thought to myself, Man, was I on crack when I said those words?? That is no easy task!

After 15 minutes of fighting with myself and replaying the message over and over, I hopped in my car and made the 4 mile trek to this man’s house. Delivered the message, and headed for home… until I realized my gas tank was on empty. I decided to head to the gas station.

As I pulled into the station, I saw a woman “flying her sign,” asking for assistance from those who passed by. I hate cardboard signs. I wish nobody would ever have to fly them like that. I drove to the station and filled up, thinking in the back of my mind, “Hmm… I really don’t have much going on right now. I suppose I could give this lady a hand.”

Have you ever been in a situation where you told God, “Hey, maybe next time, Big Guy. I’m kinda busy with something right now. But I promise, the next time, I’ll do it.” Well, I muttered those same words last week as I drove by a hitch-hiker, at the same intersection as this woman I was considering assisting. As I waited for my tank to fill, I questioned whether my desire to help was just my way of “making things right with God,” as a way of saying to Him, “See, Big Guy, I told you ‘d help out.” A chore.. not an outpouring of love from deep within my soul.

As my tank filled with gas, I realized that God had filled my heart with love so that I could authentically share it with others. I left the station and stopped by the woman, and asked her where she was headed. She said, “Brookings! Its the last city along 101 before you get to California!” I was appalled by what the words that came from my lips … “I just filled up my tank! I can take you! Let me help you get your bags.” To which she replied, with a huge grin that spread between each worn and sunburned cheek, “Why thank you!! Let me call my son over, he’ll be delighted to hear we’re getting there today!”

As I moved my car to a better loading location in the parking lot, I was faced with a choice. I could either go with what my big mouth just said, or I could quickly zip out of that parking lot as fast as I could and head home. As appealing as the latter option was — California is a good 5 hours away — I somehow mustered up the courage to go with my offer.

This woman and her son are 2 of the most incredible people I have met in my entire life. We talked for hours as we drove. Esther (name changed for confidentiality sake) is, in all respects, a hippy. A hippy who is deeply in love with Jesus. Turns out that after 30 years of running away from God, she had given her life over to Him 9 years ago and has since committed to hitch-hiking around the country and being the hands and feet of Jesus to those she comes in contact with. Esther has been up and down the Pacific Coast, volunteering at soup kitchens and missions while living in the brush. And flying her sign, using what money she raises to help others.

Esther was recently re-united with her 18 year old son Zachariah on Sunday (name changed for confidentiality sake), and he is now traveling with her. They left Canada on Sunday, and by God’s grace arrived in Veneta Thursday morning. Their goal is to reach South America and reach out to pan-handler children and their families. They told me stories about how police are using brutality to keep begging children out of tourist areas. Ester’s eyes welled up with giant tears as she spoke of her life as a young woman, thinking she was nothing of value, letting any guy sleep with her. She now wants to reach out to such women and feed them, offer clothing, and protect the lives of their children. What an honorable pursuit.

About half-way to Brookings, we stopped by the coast. The oceanview was so beautiful, like one of those sights you see in a movie and wonder where in the world it was filmed. There were giant rocks that came above the waterline and towered over us as we hiked down to the sandy beach. Gusts of wind nearly blew us over as we walked down the slopes that led to the water. Words like “beautiful,” “capturing,” and “glorious” barely do justice to this amazing sampling of God’s creation. Zechariah thanked me for stopping, saying he hadn’t seen anything like that in 8 years. Esther told me of how much she needed to be by that beach, and how much that experience did for her spiritually.

The rest of the drive was marked by listening to Micah McLaughlin’s CD. Esther loved it, and said that she could tell Micah and Erica were so full of love, that it resonated from their music. She was moved to tears by a couple songs, and was constantly nodding in agreement with the lyrics that challenge listeners to live deeply and fully.

I felt so alive today. And all it took was willingness to put aside my plans and reach out in love to those in need. I’ll never forget the time of prayer we had at Esther & Zechariah’s campsite. God felt so close, as if He was standing right next to us as we prayed. After praying, Esther looked me in the eye and said, “Ben, God’s hand is mightily upon you. May you experience the joy of living fully the life that He intends for you to live. Live happy. Laugh. Love, and know that God loves you. God bless.”

I walked back to my car, big tears welling up in my eyes. I hated to part from them, but I knew that God will take care of them and meet their every need. Part of me wants to go with them down to South America… but I have work to do here. I have students who need to experience this sort of love. I have students who need to learn how to share this kind of love. There are people that God has specifically called me to reach out to, people who need to hear and see that love wins.

What a day. God is good.

in oregon now

(insert title here)

All things NEW

A Theology of Poverty -- Closing Comments

• The Roman centurion whose servant Jesus healed (Mt. 8:5-13);
• The royal official in Capernauam whose son was ill (Jn 4:46-54);
• Matthew’s tax-collector friends, who likely weren’t all impoverished (Mt. 9:10);
• Jairus, the leader of the synagogue, whose twelve-year-old daughter Jesus declared was not dead but sleeping (Mt. 9:18-25, Mk 5:22-23, 35-42);
• Joanna, the wife of Herod's household manager, and other women who supported Jesus "out of their own means" (Luke 8:3);
  
• Jesus’ friend Lazarus, whose sister Mary just happened to have costly perfume worth 300 denarii, or about a year’s wages, that she used to anoint Jesus (Jn 12:2-5, NRSV footnote j).
• The owner of the house with a large guest room upstairs, furnished and ready for the Last Supper (Mk. 14:13-16);
• Nicodemus, a Pharisee who was a leader of the Jews (Jn 3:1);