Thursday, February 11, 2010
My Friend Bob Pace
My friend Bob Pace died last week. We had his funeral last Monday. I've never been to a more God-honoring memorial in my life! It was truly awesome! Bob was a great individual and a true friend. He loved God passionately and he had this desire to see God's people spiritually formed. In fact, he told a friend that the reason most Christians never grow up spiritually is because they don't know what it means to love God. He said that Christians need to focus on loving God and then all the other stuff that goes with being a follower of Christ will take care of itself. I think he is so right! What if we spent more time learning what it means to love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength? Can you imagine what that would do to a person? It would revolutionize every facet of a person's life! There's no way they would be the same. Life would hold new meaning, relationships would take on a whole new life and the world would look so different from their point of view. You could not possibly stay the same. So maybe we need to stop spinning our wheels worrying about being better christians or running to another meeting on church growth or being concerned about creating another study guide on what it means to be a mature christian. Maybe we just need to focus on loving God. I have a sneaking suspicion Bob is smiling right about now as he's discovered the love of his life is far greater than anything he could ever imagine! Love has never looked so good to him right now! "We love because He first loved us!"
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Seven Thoughts on Suffering
In light of the news about Pastor Matt Chandler and his very public battle with cancer, I came across a great article on suffering from one of his pastors at Village Church. Here's the link to the article, Seven Thoughts on Suffering. Would love to hear your thoughts. http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/blog/theology/?p=287
Sunday, January 31, 2010
Such Great Faith in Suffering!
DALLAS — Matt Chandler doesn't feel anything when the radiation penetrates his brain. It could start to burn later in treatment. But it hasn't been bad this time. Not yet, anyway.
Chandler's lanky 6-foot-5-inch frame rests on a table at Baylor University Medical Center. He wears the same kind of jeans he wears preaching to 6,000 people at The Village Church in suburban Flower Mound, where the 35-year-old pastor is a rising star of evangelical Christianity.
Another cancer patient Chandler has gotten to know spends his time in radiation imagining that he's playing a round of golf. Chandler on this first Monday in January is reflecting on Colossians 1:15-23, about the pre-eminence of Christ and making peace through the blood of his cross.
Chandler wears a mask with white webbing that keeps his head still as the radiation machine delivers the highest possible dose to what is considered to be fatal and incurable brain cancer.
This is Matt Chandler's new normal. Each weekday, he spends two hours in the car — driven from his suburban home to downtown Dallas — for eight minutes of radiation and Scripture.
Chandler is trying to suffer well. He would never ask for such a trial, but in some ways he welcomes this cancer. He says he feels grateful that God has counted him worthy to endure it. He has always preached that God will bring both joy and suffering but is only recently learning to experience the latter.
Since all this began on Thanksgiving morning, Chandler says he has asked "Why me?" just once, in a moment of weakness.
He is praying that God will heal him. He wants to grow old, to walk his two daughters down the aisle and see his son become a better athlete than he ever was.
Whatever happens, he says, is God's will, and God has his reasons. For Chandler, that does not mean waiting for his fate. It means fighting for his life.
Chandler can be sober and silly, charming and tough. He'll call men "bro" and women "mama."
One of Chandler's sayings is, "It's OK to not be OK — just don't stay there."
Chandler's long, meaty messages untangle large chunks of Scripture. His challenging approach appeals, he believes, to a generation looking for transcendence and power.
His theology teaches that all humans are wicked, that human beings have offended a loving and sovereign God, and that God saves through Jesus' death, burial and resurrection — not because people do good deeds.
Congregation explodes
After college Chandler became a fiery evangelist who led a college Bible study and traveled the Christian speaking circuit. He was hired from another church in 2002 at age 28 to lead what is now The Village Church, a Southern Baptist congregation that claimed 160 members at the time.
The church now meets in a renovated former grocery store with a 1,430-seat auditorium; two satellite campuses are flourishing in Denton and Dallas, and Chandler speaks to large conferences.
Matt prays that his friends and family, especially his children — Audrey, 7, Reid, 4, and the baby — do not grow resentful.
Chandler says learning he had brain cancer was "kind of like getting punched in the gut. You take the shot, you try not to vomit, then you get back to doing what you do, believing what you believe.
"We never felt, still have not felt, betrayed by the Lord or abandoned by the Lord," Chandler said.
Chandler never thought such a trial would shake his faith. But until now, that was just hope.
"This has not surprised God," Chandler says on the drive home. "He is not in a panic right now trying to figure out what to do with me or this disease. Those things have been warm blankets, man."
Chandler has, however, wrestled with the tension between belief in an all-powerful God and what he can do about his situation. He believes he has responsibilities: to use his brain, to take advantage of technology, to walk in faith and hope, to pray for healing and then "see what God wants to do."
"If he suffers well, that might be the most important sermon he's ever preached," said Mark Driscoll, pastor of Seattle's Mars Hill Church and a friend of Chandler's.
Chandler has preached the last two weekends and is planning trips to South Africa and England. He lost his hair to radiation but got a positive lab report last week and feels strong.
The average life expectancy for a patient with the type of malignant tumor Chandler has is two to three years. But his doctors say Chandler will live longer because of the aggressive surgery, treatment and Chandler's otherwise good health. There's also a chance the cancer goes into remission for years.
Chandler is drinking life in, watching his son build sand castles at the park, preaching each sermon as if eternity is at stake, and feeling a heightened sense of reality.
"It's carpe diem on steroids," he says.
Chandler's lanky 6-foot-5-inch frame rests on a table at Baylor University Medical Center. He wears the same kind of jeans he wears preaching to 6,000 people at The Village Church in suburban Flower Mound, where the 35-year-old pastor is a rising star of evangelical Christianity.
Another cancer patient Chandler has gotten to know spends his time in radiation imagining that he's playing a round of golf. Chandler on this first Monday in January is reflecting on Colossians 1:15-23, about the pre-eminence of Christ and making peace through the blood of his cross.
Chandler wears a mask with white webbing that keeps his head still as the radiation machine delivers the highest possible dose to what is considered to be fatal and incurable brain cancer.
This is Matt Chandler's new normal. Each weekday, he spends two hours in the car — driven from his suburban home to downtown Dallas — for eight minutes of radiation and Scripture.
Chandler is trying to suffer well. He would never ask for such a trial, but in some ways he welcomes this cancer. He says he feels grateful that God has counted him worthy to endure it. He has always preached that God will bring both joy and suffering but is only recently learning to experience the latter.
Since all this began on Thanksgiving morning, Chandler says he has asked "Why me?" just once, in a moment of weakness.
He is praying that God will heal him. He wants to grow old, to walk his two daughters down the aisle and see his son become a better athlete than he ever was.
Whatever happens, he says, is God's will, and God has his reasons. For Chandler, that does not mean waiting for his fate. It means fighting for his life.
Chandler can be sober and silly, charming and tough. He'll call men "bro" and women "mama."
One of Chandler's sayings is, "It's OK to not be OK — just don't stay there."
Chandler's long, meaty messages untangle large chunks of Scripture. His challenging approach appeals, he believes, to a generation looking for transcendence and power.
His theology teaches that all humans are wicked, that human beings have offended a loving and sovereign God, and that God saves through Jesus' death, burial and resurrection — not because people do good deeds.
Congregation explodes
After college Chandler became a fiery evangelist who led a college Bible study and traveled the Christian speaking circuit. He was hired from another church in 2002 at age 28 to lead what is now The Village Church, a Southern Baptist congregation that claimed 160 members at the time.
The church now meets in a renovated former grocery store with a 1,430-seat auditorium; two satellite campuses are flourishing in Denton and Dallas, and Chandler speaks to large conferences.
Matt prays that his friends and family, especially his children — Audrey, 7, Reid, 4, and the baby — do not grow resentful.
Chandler says learning he had brain cancer was "kind of like getting punched in the gut. You take the shot, you try not to vomit, then you get back to doing what you do, believing what you believe.
"We never felt, still have not felt, betrayed by the Lord or abandoned by the Lord," Chandler said.
Chandler never thought such a trial would shake his faith. But until now, that was just hope.
"This has not surprised God," Chandler says on the drive home. "He is not in a panic right now trying to figure out what to do with me or this disease. Those things have been warm blankets, man."
Chandler has, however, wrestled with the tension between belief in an all-powerful God and what he can do about his situation. He believes he has responsibilities: to use his brain, to take advantage of technology, to walk in faith and hope, to pray for healing and then "see what God wants to do."
"If he suffers well, that might be the most important sermon he's ever preached," said Mark Driscoll, pastor of Seattle's Mars Hill Church and a friend of Chandler's.
Chandler has preached the last two weekends and is planning trips to South Africa and England. He lost his hair to radiation but got a positive lab report last week and feels strong.
The average life expectancy for a patient with the type of malignant tumor Chandler has is two to three years. But his doctors say Chandler will live longer because of the aggressive surgery, treatment and Chandler's otherwise good health. There's also a chance the cancer goes into remission for years.
Chandler is drinking life in, watching his son build sand castles at the park, preaching each sermon as if eternity is at stake, and feeling a heightened sense of reality.
"It's carpe diem on steroids," he says.
Friday, January 29, 2010
God's Knowledge of Me! Wow!
"What matters supremely, therefore, is not, in the last analysis, the fact that I know God, but the larger fact which underlies it--the fact that he knows me. I am graven on the palms of his hands. I am never out of his mind. All my knowledge of him depends on his sustained initiative on knowing me. I know him because he first knew me, and continues to know me. He knows me as a friend, one who loves me; and there is no moment when his eye is off me, or his attention distracted from me, and no moment, therefore, when his care falters.
This is momentous knowledge. There is unspeakable comfort... in knowing that God is constantly taking knowledge of me in love and watching over me for my good. There is tremendous relief in knowing that his love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench his determination to bless me."
J.I. Packer, Knowing God,InterVarsity Press, 1993, as quoted in "Intimacy with the Almighty", Chuck Swindoll, Insight for Living, 1996.
This is momentous knowledge. There is unspeakable comfort... in knowing that God is constantly taking knowledge of me in love and watching over me for my good. There is tremendous relief in knowing that his love to me is utterly realistic, based at every point on prior knowledge of the worst about me, so that no discovery now can disillusion him about me, in the way I am so often disillusioned about myself, and quench his determination to bless me."
J.I. Packer, Knowing God,InterVarsity Press, 1993, as quoted in "Intimacy with the Almighty", Chuck Swindoll, Insight for Living, 1996.
Wednesday, January 20, 2010
Haiti Rescue
There was a great video image coming out of Haiti today. The story said that a ten year old girl and her eight year old brother were found alive in the rubble of a building. The video showed a host of rescuers gathered around an opening in the rubble and all of a sudden the eight year old boy was lifted up out of the hole and the crowd began to cheer and applaud and the little boy, dirty and bruised but alive and well, raised his arms into the air, smiling all the while, as if he had just won a race at the Olympics. It was awesome to see! Cameras flashed and people were smiling and celebrating the rescue of another missing Haitian, snatched from the claws of death and destruction. I wonder if that's what happens in Heaven when another person, lost in the clutches of sin and death, is rescued by God's saving grace? I have a feeling there's a party going on there always! Just a reminder that life is short and oh so fragile and we have a job to do-never stop telling the Story!!
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
Praying for Matt Chandler
Recently I asked that you pray for Matt Chandler, the Lead Pastor of the Village Church near Dallas. He was found to have a brain tumor on the right front of his brain. Surgery was performed over a week ago and yesterday the pathology report was shared with Matt and his wife. Today they posted a blog about Matt's tumor. You can read the blog by going to this site: http://fm.thevillagechurch.net/blog/pastors/ Please continue to pray for Matt's healing and for strength for his wife and family and the Village Church.
Tuesday, December 15, 2009
Immortal, Invisible - “Something Greater”
The following is a blog from a very good friend of mine, Laura Story. You may know her from the popular worship song, Indescribable. She wrote that a few years ago and Chris Tomlin made it famous.
“In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. The first living creature was like a lion, the second was like an ox, the third had a face like a man, the fourth was like a flying eagle. Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.”
Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne, and worship him who lives forever and ever.
They lay their crowns before the throne and say: “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.”
- Revelations 4: 6-11 (NIV)
There is something mysterious about worship. Even as I child, I remember singing songs like, “‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus” and “I Surrender All,” and feeling all warm inside. Whether it’s the thunderous voice of a hundred-person choir or “Amazing Grace” being played by a single violin, there is a tenderness that cannot be explained with words. It’s the feeling of being part of something greater than myself. And in the book of Revelation, John gives us a hint of what that “something greater” might be. There are many theories suggesting how the book of Revelation should be interpreted. Some think that John, the self-professed author, is speaking strictly about the end times. Others view the book as a panorama of historical events throughout the life of the church. But either way you slice it, God gave John a vision and what he saw was magnificent. It was so magnificent that John was in too much shock to even stand! The Lord spoke with a voice like a trumpet, and there were angels and other creatures consumed with worshipping the One who sat on the throne. They were bowing low in awe of their Radiant King, singing “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power…”
Though this may not sound like normal worship services at your church or mine, we still may see small glimpses. Here on earth, we will only experience a taste of this splendor. But it is enough; it’s enough to remind us that this life is about something greater than ourselves. When we sing praises to our Lord, we join in the chorus that creation has been singing from the beginning of time. And it is the same anthem that we as believers will be singing for all eternity.
God, may I savor each moment in your presence as a glimpse of the glory that is to come. May I never grow weary of singing Your praise.
“In the center, around the throne, were four living creatures, and they were covered with eyes, in front and in back. The first living creature was like a lion, the second was like an ox, the third had a face like a man, the fourth was like a flying eagle. Each of the four living creatures had six wings and was covered with eyes all around, even under his wings. Day and night they never stop saying: “Holy, holy, holy is the Lord God Almighty, who was, and is, and is to come.”
Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to him who sits on the throne and who lives forever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before him who sits on the throne, and worship him who lives forever and ever.
They lay their crowns before the throne and say: “You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power, for you created all things, and by your will they were created and have their being.”
- Revelations 4: 6-11 (NIV)
There is something mysterious about worship. Even as I child, I remember singing songs like, “‘Tis So Sweet to Trust in Jesus” and “I Surrender All,” and feeling all warm inside. Whether it’s the thunderous voice of a hundred-person choir or “Amazing Grace” being played by a single violin, there is a tenderness that cannot be explained with words. It’s the feeling of being part of something greater than myself. And in the book of Revelation, John gives us a hint of what that “something greater” might be. There are many theories suggesting how the book of Revelation should be interpreted. Some think that John, the self-professed author, is speaking strictly about the end times. Others view the book as a panorama of historical events throughout the life of the church. But either way you slice it, God gave John a vision and what he saw was magnificent. It was so magnificent that John was in too much shock to even stand! The Lord spoke with a voice like a trumpet, and there were angels and other creatures consumed with worshipping the One who sat on the throne. They were bowing low in awe of their Radiant King, singing “Worthy are You, our Lord and our God, to receive glory and honor and power…”
Though this may not sound like normal worship services at your church or mine, we still may see small glimpses. Here on earth, we will only experience a taste of this splendor. But it is enough; it’s enough to remind us that this life is about something greater than ourselves. When we sing praises to our Lord, we join in the chorus that creation has been singing from the beginning of time. And it is the same anthem that we as believers will be singing for all eternity.
God, may I savor each moment in your presence as a glimpse of the glory that is to come. May I never grow weary of singing Your praise.
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