For the brothers I love, and the brothers I do not know

A few days ago the US Congress cut veterans' benefits. Veterans are men and women who have served in the United States military and who have been promised that when they exit the military they will receive adequate compensation. The group directly affected are military retirees. For about what's happening please read this blog http://mickeyinthemiddle.blogspot.com/2013/12/open-letter-to-united-states-senate.html.

I could stop there, as I am not as well informed about what's happening as I should be, but I believe there's more to this issue then what the US government does or does not do. I ask the question, "What would Jesus response to the men and women in the armed services be? How would he treat them?"

In Jesus day, the Jews did not have a professional military. They were occupied by the Romans. There was enough hate and displeasure among the Jews about the Roman occupation, that it would have been entirely reasonable for Jesus to have a negative attitude towards the military. But he never did. Jesus treated the Romans soldiers the same way he treated everyone else. He healed their sick and he was amazed by their faith (Matthew 8:5-13). It was also a centurion who is the first to make a statement of faith after seeing Jesus death (Matthew 27:54). After Jesus death, the sign to the apostles that God cared for the whole world, not just the Jews, was through a centurion and his family (Acts 10:24-48). In the New Testament, God has a history of using Roman soldiers to show how much he loves the world. It's very accurate to say that God loves the men and women in and out of the military.

And that's where most of us stop. By us I mean American Christians. We remember historic military victories and tragedies, have sales and discounts on memorial day, perhaps even a service or two when we talk about the service our armed forces perform for our country and then we go silent for most of the year. This is not right.

Its not right that many men and women come back from deployments hurting and shell shocked, while the church does nothing. It's not right that many of these men and women struggle with inner demons from their experiences, and the church does not know how to approach them. It's not right that veterans walk the streets in homelessness, consumed by the weight of what they've seen and we do little to help them; they need more than a place to sleep, food each day, clean clothes and to be treated with dignity and respect. They need healing, and they need people who are unafraid to walk beside them through what they've seen and experienced. It's not only for the military to take care of its own; its our duty as Christ followers to stand with them, even if we conscientiously object.

If I were to use a word to describe how we should treat our active duty military, reserve forces, veterans and retired career military, it would be this word: brothers. We should treat them as brothers. In the New Testament to call someone brother did not always mean they were your blood relative. It often meant someone you shared life with, someone with whom there was no social hierarchy, someone who if they suffered you suffered too. A brother is not someone you let down, it's someone you always stand up for, regardless of the consequences.

My response to the government is that if you will not care for my brothers, then I will. I will support them and stand beside them. I will find a way to care for them, and make sure at any age they will never walk alone.

The origin and effects of sin

With the recent debates about what is and isn't sin, I'd like offer up an explanation, citation and a good story. Sin can be very confusing, especially when we take it out of context. Explanations about sin often cite Levitcal laws or the Ten Commandments. While these certainly are a guide helping us understand what sin practically looks like, I often feel we miss something valuable by just looking at 'the rules'. In order to get a better understanding of sin, we need to go back to the first time sin is mentioned: to the first time sin takes place.

What's interesting about our first account of sin, sin, as in the word, is not used. Ironic how sin isn't one of our vocabulary words when it first takes place. To follow along with the story, I'm using Genesis 2:8-9,15-17; 3:1-24. Or if that's confusing just read Genesis chapter 2 & 3.

Allow me to set the stage. God has made a garden and he has put man in the garden. This garden is full of trees that are pleasing to the eye and good for food. In the middle of the garden are two trees: the tree of life, and the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. As God puts man in the garden he tells him, "you are free to eat from any tree in the garden; but you must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, for when you eat of it you will surely die." God makes a sweet garden with tons of awesome looking trees and tasty fruit. God tells the man he is free to eat from any tree in the garden, but that the man must not eat from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil because it will kill him. Let me further emphasize that the man is FREE to eat from ANY tree in the garden, but he MUST NOT EAT from ONE of the trees because it will KILL HIM.

Personally, I wonder what was not so appealing about the tree of life. I mean seriously, its right there. But hey, living forever, apparently not important at this point in the story.

So there's this serpent, who's pretty darn crafty, but no one is afraid of snakes. Why? Because everything God created was still good at this point. The serpent asks a pretty straight forward question to the woman in the garden (apparently a talking animal was not big concern...), "Did God really say, 'You must not eat from any tree in the garden?' " He's asking if the woman can eat anything she wants, by asking if she can eat anything at all. Clever. The woman responds with the truth, "we may eat fruit from the trees in the garden," and then adds, "but God did say, 'You must not eat fruit from the tree that is in the middle of the garden, and you must not touch it, or you will die.' " At this point I give an exasperated sigh. Why didn't the man tell the woman which tree not to eat from? There are TWO trees in the middle of the garden, and NONE of the fruit from the trees will kill you if you touch it. Somebody failed to accurately communicate what God said, but no, that's not the first sin.

The serpent replies to the woman, "You will not surely die," he's actually telling the truth at this point, touching the fruit won't kill you, but eating it will. "God knows that when you eat of it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil." Hmmm. Is he lying? No. He's just repeated the name of the tree they aren't supposed to eat from. Did I mention he was clever? However, he's put a twist on his words, that this fruit is the key to being like God. True, but not true. Why? because the way the serpent describes to become more like God is not to do what God said. Confusing, but when you don't know what God said in the first place, anything is up for grabs.

The woman looks at the fruit. She sees three things: its good for eating, its pleasing to the eye and desirable for gaining wisdom. Two of the things she sees are what she's supposed to see, the third thing is what the serpent has told her she should see. Her perspective about the tree has changed. As has a word. Wisdom. There's an experience to be gained by eating the fruit, not just a head knowledge about facts. It's the desire for wisdom, an experience, that motivates her. She wants to know what it is like to be like God.

She takes some of the fruit and eats it. She also gives some to her husband, who HAS BEEN STANDING THERE THE WHOLE TIME!!! Also not sin (the standing around doing nothing part), but really he could have spoken up and said something. Maybe clarified what God actually said?

And then it happens "then the eyes of both of them were opened, and they realized they were naked." Innocence lost. Sin has taken place and the lives of the man and woman have been forever changed. They have used the freedom God gave them to eat from any fruit of the garden, but that fruit wasn't meant for them to eat, even though like everything else God made, it looked good. And now they see each other in a new light, "so they sewed fig leaves together and made coverings for themselves."

This story doesn't declare "eating fruit was the sin!" Eating fruit isn't sinful. This story is full of details about what God said not to do and then the consequences of not doing what God said. The point is not what they did, its that they didn't do what God said. Sin is actively doing what God said not to do, even though we have the freedom to do anything.

Since we have identified sin, we might want to go home, but there are two more parts to this story; these are the most important parts that we so often miss whenever we talk about sin. "Then the man and his wife heard the sound of the LORD God as he was walking in the garden in the cool of the day," God is taking a late afternoon stroll, which we know isn't unusual for God, because the man and his wife know what God sounds like when he walks. Instead of running up and saying, "Hey, we know what it's like to be like you." they do the opposite "and they hid from the LORD God among the trees of the garden." The man and his wife ran from God. The effect of sin in our lives is that we run from God.

Here's the first important point, "But the LORD God called to the man, 'Where are you?' " God doesn't let humanity stay hidden; he calls out to the man. God goes looking for humanity, individual people, even when we want to run away from God. And he finds them.

The man answers, "I heard you in the garden, and I was afraid because I was naked; so I hid." Sin makes us afraid of being seen by God.

God starts asking questions, even though he already knows the answers (the man is in a tree after all and God made the fruit and knows what it does), "Who told you that you were naked? Have you eaten from the tree that I commanded you not to eat from?" The man gives a wonderful response. He blames the woman. And he kind of blames God for giving him the woman, even though the man's first poetry is written about how awesome the woman is. Lest we blame the man, lets look at the woman's response. She blames the serpent. What a perfect couple! Sin makes us believe its someone else's fault.

God curses them all. Snakes become creepy, childbirth becomes hard and farming becomes difficult. Then God does something we shouldn't miss. "The LORD God made garments of skin for Adam and his wife and clothed them." This is the second important point, God made a sacrifice to cover humanity's sin and shame. It was not humanity that made a sacrifice for their sin, it was God who made a sacrifice for humanity. This is recorded in the 3rd chapter of Genesis. God made a way and a covering for his creation. He didn't leave us in our sin. He didn't let us stay the way we were with our man-made inadequate coverings, he gave us something better, even though we couldn't stay in the garden.

The end of this story, and the first account of sin, is of Adam and Eve being banished from the garden and driven out by God. No more free tasty fruit. No more late afternoon strolls with the creator. No more talking animals. At the entrance to the garden, God places a cherubim with a flaming sword, who guards the way to the tree of life.

Here are the important parts I see about sin:
Its a choice of freedom God gives us.
Its about actively not doing what God says and reaping the consequences.

Here's the bad stuff sin causes:
We become afraid of being seen by God.
We try to cover ourselves with things that don't really cover us.
We blame someone else for our choices.
We run and hide from God.
We miss out on the world as it should be.

Here's the good news:
God comes looking for us.
God already knows what we've done.
He sacrifices on our behalf to cover us.

Note that Adam and Eve accepted the clothing God gave them. They had the freedom to reject it. Much like we do. We don't have to accept anything from God. Adam and Eve could have chosen their leaves, but the clothes of God were much better for them then the coverings they made for themselves.

There's more to the story of God's relationship with humanity, and we will see the same good news played out, but this is the sad story about sin.

A comment about social comments

In light of recent events about incidents involving a duck and a gentlemen, I, like many others, have the desire to say something. I'm not really interested in what was published in the magazine, the TV show itself or the views about religion, race or sexuality that seems to be scattered all over the place like pieces from a clay pigeon. What I am noticing, is that something seems to be broken. And I wonder "What?".

As I attempt to evaluate this question, I can't help but notice something that happened in my life about a week ago. I was reading the Bible, as I normally do, and finished reading the book of Isaiah. Instead of merrily going to the next book in sequence, Jeremiah, I took a few days off from reading. Why? Because I couldn't bear to read about the destruction of Jerusalem; it was too heavy and depressing. The hard part about reading Isaiah and Jeremiah, two of the major prophets in the Bible, is that they unswervingly point out how far from God his people have gone, tell of the coming destruction in graphic poetic detail, weep over their people, tell how much God loves them and wants to restore them if they turn to him. Basically the prophets can be an emotional roller coaster. One I desperately needed some time away from for a few days. Reading these prophets prompted me to ask what they would say to me and my country. I'm not a fan of my answer.

For starters, they would tell us how we think we're following God, but are really doing whatever we want and using his name. They would lay out all the ways in which we are hypocrites and remind us of all the ways in which God has not let hypocrisy stand. They would tell us of our coming destruction, to which we would get angry and want to kill them. In spite of our actions, they would call us back to following God, forsaking all foreign and alien ways in which we've prostituted ourselves. They would weep, cry out and get emotional over us, for how bad we've gotten and how much God doesn't want us to be this way. They would leave us with hope, hope that even though destruction comes, we can rebuild, for God is merciful and forgiving; all we need is to turn from our wicked ways.

As I write those words a part of me says, "we're really not THAT bad," to which my natural response is duh. We're arguing because we can argue; its sort of what we do. But as a part of me wants to write it all off as a bunch of silliness, another part of me answers back, 'that's exactly what Jerusalem said'. I find myself standing between a social perception and an inward conviction. That we're ridiculous and there's something very serious about the heat of our ridiculous argument. To which I want to respond, "Why so serious?" Because something very serious is at stake.

Our hearts. This whole duck vs pluck thing has gotten out of hand. It's obviously struck a nerve, and the press is loving it, fueling it and hoping to make as much money off it as possible. Facebook is also a mess. I've seen multiple comment threads with double and triple digit comments as people fight for their opinions and keep the internal fires growing. Something is wrong. And it has little to do with the particulars someone decided to publish in a magazine.

Sin is sin. Whether its homosexuality, bestiality, pornography, hatred, lying, stealing or whatever. It all falls into the same category. Our social perceptions try to tell us some sins are worse than others, and that some sins aren't sins. Regardless of our social perceptions about sin, we all sin. We all sin. We ALL sin. No one is pure, no one is blameless, we all sin and have fallen short of perfection. Anything stated to the obvious is a lie, it might be well meaning, but its a lie. It might make us feel good to think we're not as bad as other people, to grade and rank our own personal sins versus our perceptions of others, but that only shows how utterly ridiculous we are to think that we're some how better than someone else. It's false righteousness. Which was a huge problem the prophets addressed, which makes them worth reading, especially now. Especially in the season of darkness.

Every year, near the winter solstice, we celebrate Christmas: the darkest day of the year, or at least it used to be. This season was chosen because of what it represents, darkness overcoming light, but only for a time. For after the solstice light comes back into the world. Jesus is described as the Light of the world; Christmas is the celebration of light overcoming the darkness, of the darkness being revealed and cast out, of hope being restored. Hope that the world does not have to be trapped in its sinful and hateful ways, but set free. This is the true meaning of Christmas. This is what we celebrate in the darkest times of the year.

Darkness separates, isolates and tears down. Light unifies, opens eyes and brings together. That unity is found by accepting that we are all sinners and that God loves us and that he wants better for us. He wants us to walk in the light as he is the light. That light begins and ends at the cross. Because sin has a price, judgment. Not social judgment: Godly judgment. God's judgment against humanity for all the ways we've treated God, each other and the creation he put in our hands. That judgment has to exist, we can't wipe it way, or else there is nothing wrong with the way we treat each other. There is something very wrong with the way treat each other. We treat each other like we cannot change. We treat each other like we cannot be forgiven.

Every duck needs forgiveness; we are all ducks.

Forgiveness creates equality. Forgiveness is the beginning of walking in the light. Its the melting point of our hardened hearts. Its the thawing that takes place over time as we cast aside the social lies and perceptions that so easily ensnare our hearts and minds. Its the freedom to cross battle lines and call for peace, even if both sides ardently disagree. Its the awareness of our own wrongs and the desire to be free of them. This freedom through forgiveness is found at the foot of the cross. That the judgment we have earned and deserve may pass over us. That even though our world may be fraying at its social edges, we can still be united through the price Jesus paid for our forgiveness. That one day we can live in peace and harmony and leave all this silliness behind.

Restarting

In a few days January, the month of resolutions, will arrive. As I reflect on some of the goals I set in 2013, I wonder if I set worth while goals. One of those goals, increase my muscle mass (while keeping my fat mass to a minimum), defines many generic goals. My body weight and composition has changed over the years; I no longer have the pressure of a sport to endless increase my size, speed and strength. I know what it feels like to be bigger, faster and stronger. I also know what it feels like to be out of shape, to rebuild and consequently remember what physical motion feels like. Exercising regularly makes fitness fun and enjoyable. Coming off a month of not doing much feels like I can hardly move. Motivation drops to zero, at which point we ask ourselves the all important question, "Why am I doing this?"

How do we honestly answer this question? I look inside. Inside my head, inside my heart, inside my life. Why do I pursue fitness? I need to know how I define fitness before I can answer why I do it. Fitness is the sum total of activities I practice in order to be healthy. Great, that sounds like it came out of a dictionary. Regardless of my definitions origin, I now need to define what I consider healthy.

This creates a problem. What is health? I see numerous advertisements for health, and as I look at the ads I often find myself thinking, "that doesn't look like health." Either the image is too perfect, photo-shopped or makes subliminal claims about how it will enhance my non-existent sex life, which I am currently happy with. As I ponder why advertising focuses so much on sex appeal, it makes me wonder if sexy equals healthy. To which my honest answer is no. Why? because I know many people who are healthy, but not considered sexy. Some forms of fitness are very sexy, especially when done in hot and sweaty environments while wearing curve caressing clothing. Or are they? When we really sit down and think about it, most sports and exercise activities are not sexy in the nit and grit of daily practice. We glam up competition, taking lots of photos that we then photo-shop, but practice isn't advertisement worthy material. It's too real, authentic and human. Which makes me ask another question, "Why do we focus so much on the end result and not how we arrive there?"

When we think about end results, temptations arise. Temptations to cut corners, take enhancers, quit and try too hard. I believe quitting, trying to hard, cutting corners and taking enhancers all fall into the same category. The category of I'll never get there and I won't get there fast enough. To which my response is, "What's the rush?" Why do we worry and try to change too quickly?

One thing I know about fitness, it takes time to develop, and the more we develop fitness the more time we have. Fitness is an anti-ager, unless we work to hard, then it accelerates aging; it creates dis-ease and dis-comfort. So if fitness is something best taken slow, letting it develop over time, then shouldn't we approach health the same way?

Approaching health requires a steady and consistent pace. On this journey we discover our capabilities, limits and hindrances. One of my personal limitations, attaining goals through the nit and grit of practice while keeping my body healthy, means I won't do more exercise if my body hurts. Pushing my body into the hurt zone is easy, staying out of it while pursuing my goals is not. The answer to gauging the health and pain balance? Community. The deeper the community I find myself in, the easier I find a balance between health and pain. I also find it more motivating to work out when I have friends to work out beside me.

Which then creates a conundrum. Should we all go seeking this mythical stronger community? Or should we build one where we are? And how do we build deep community? My answer to our first question, "Why am I doing this?" is a communal one. We do specific activities because our communities accept them. Which is a logic circle. We do activities because they are okay and accepted, and they are okay and accepted because we do them. So how do we introduce something new into a community?

Someone, at some point has to try something new, either by themselves or with a group of friends. We positively and negatively influence each other to try new activities. Why? Because we want out of our mindless circling. We either try to keep it all the same, and thus all agree nothing is wrong because we agree nothing is wrong, or we admit something is wrong and try to change.

What changes first? The individual or the environment? I can't give you a straight answer because my mind sees a conflict with this statement. Why does the individual need to change before the environment does? As soon as someone chooses to act differently, those actions spill out into our environment, and thus make us consider our own actions. Consider my above statements about my sex life. I mentioned something about the way I live, why did you react negatively or positively to my statement? We are communally wired, and we desire our community of influences to be unified. We dislike dis-unity. It starts to feel like dis-comfort, then we label it a dis-ease and then we try to eradicate it. Which makes me stop and ask, "Why are we trying to eradicate people?" or my preferred way of asking this, "Why are we trying to eradicate human behavior?" or simply "Why don't we like being human?"

I believe there is something deeply wired into us that longs for our behaviors to be set right. Not eradicate the ways in which we feel, move and healthfully change, but to satisfy our desire for wholeness. Our desire to be united internally and with those around us. I believe these fundamental questions lies at the core of our common experiences. How do we come together? Can we stay together? I believe these are the essentials of building health.

At the core of my health is my spiritual connection to God, even though it often gets challenged, I practice less often then I should, and like many others I struggle to know what 'following God' means. Part of my journey is asking questions, and having open thoughts for others to see. Not because I want to hammer someone into my position, because that violates my definition of health (and I believe following God should be practiced healthily). But because I see a decline in my world of asking questions about God. I see a rise in judgment toward the religious. I see a rise in judgment towards sexuality. And in the midst of rising tides with emotions rising high I want to ask a very small question, "What are we doing to each other?"

As I ask this question I look 'up'. I don't understand why we are so bent on making each other into a perfect image, when our perfect images aren't healthy. I don't understand our obsession with wanting everyone to move and think like 'I' do. The concept makes me want to vomit. I fervently don't want a bunch of people to be like me, but I desperately want community with at least a few like-minded people. And I want that community to be okay with asking questions about God, that as we consider all the logical ways in which we might be able to change our world, we also consider that logic isn't the answer. Perhaps there is more to life than measurable changes and paces. Perhaps life is full of seasons of growth, harvest and decay, which means its okay if our weight doesn't measure the same every day. And perhaps when we think about health we shouldn't be thinking in measurements, but should be considering our qualities and philosophies on life.

Functional versus the machine: the rise of communal fitness

Today I walked into a Rec Center. For $5 a year I could get access to all their activities, but for $25 a month I could use their weight room. $25 isn't a bad price, but I wanted to see what they considered worth of that fee. What I saw was a lot of stationary machines and very few free weights. Disappointed, I walked out. Now that I've had lack of sleep to dwell on what I have seen I know why; we live in a world of unthoughtful movement.

Let me explain. Stationary machines are a modern strength training invention. The first machines were generic, the modern equivalent of a cable cross; you could use them for multiple lifts from multiple angles. One of the oldest machines is Joseph Pilates' reformer. It's a total body piece of equipment, even though it looks like it only slides back and forth. Why is it a total body piece of equipment? Because Pilates believed in training the whole body, not just pieces of it. That's why his original method was called Contrology. It emphasized thoughtful movement of the body. That's still the focus of true Pilates teachers, thoughtfully moving the body. Any machine Pilates built was built for thoughtful total body movement and training. Stationary machines restrict movement and make movements thoughtless.

Why? There's actually a good reason for this: safety. Each stationary machine is built to promote safe lifting habits and to target specific areas of weakness in the body. They are also designed to be fairly intuitive; anyone can use them. Machines have their place and they have been purposefully constructed, but there's a mindset that comes with a room full of machines: this is the best way to strengthen my body, my body can be broken down into specific parts and I can spot reduce parts of my body. As the body is a whole integrated unit, it takes more time to complete a machine based workout than to do functional movements. Functional movements require more thought and body awareness, while machines are route and fairly mindless. The mindlessness of the machines is to help keep the mindless exerciser safe. This is why they only work a single muscle group. The problem this creates is one of variety; we keep doing the same exercises and adding more weight but we're not really getting stronger, we're just improving one area of the body. That area may grow in muscle mass, leading us to believe that if we can grow our mass we can reduce our waistline. Which isn't how fat reduction works, the body picks and chooses no matter what exercises we do. To keep ourselves from dying of boredom in machine workouts, we build new machines with new approaches to the same muscle groups. These machines are expensive and they take up space. Hence the cost of access to the equipment goes up. The problem with machine based safety is that it reduces variety, the equipment is expensive and its not the most efficient way to build the body.

Efficiency is an interesting subject; what we consider efficient depends on our goals. When I consider efficiency I ask a few questions: how much of my body am I using, what are my long term goals, what do I need to do in the short term to achieve those goals? A machine's goal is very focused, workout this part of the body! Machines are great for strengthening injured areas. Machines are also good for the new exerciser who doesn't yet know how to move their body. They also are good for those who lack stability while exercising (the elderly). Outside of these areas I consider machines inefficient; the cost to space required to functional use ratio is low; too expensive for too little total body use.

But how is a new exerciser suppose to learn how to move their body/exercise? That's the million dollar question isn't it? Do new exercisers learn best on a machine or from a person? There are plenty of videos on Youtube of people using exercise equipment improperly. And there are still people in group exercises classes that don't realize they aren't moving in a health way. But who has the better opportunity to learn how to move correctly? A person working alone, or someone working in a group? I would argue that we learn best from other people, even though it takes time for us to become self aware of our movements. The more interactions we have with each other, the more opportunities we have to learn. And the more we move our bodies, the better we understand how our body functions as a complete unit. A machine does not have these capabilities. It's stuck being what it was designed to be; mono-dimensional, which is what we see taking up a lot of space in fitness facilities today.

Current fitness trends are moving away from machines and back into multi-use functional movement driven fitness: Crossfit, Yoga, Pilates, P90X, Camp Gladiator, Tai Chi, Boxing etc. I like this trend, as it means moving away from machines and back into personal interaction for body development.

I can't help myself asking the question, "What's the current trend in spiritual development? Is it machine based, or person based?" As I ask this question I look at my own traditions and the church I currently attend. When I read the Bible, which is the major teaching tool of Christianity, I conclude that we are supposed to be people based. Which means we take the time to teach each other how to move, by practicing movements together.

Is this how we live in the 21st century? Do we live with each other or have we prized independence over community? In my country, independence wins out, but I feel it wins out because it is machine based, which means that it doesn't fully develop the body; it spends too much time focusing on safety, stability and overcoming injury. This mentality doesn't win in the end because we lose the opportunity to explore ourselves in community. In essence, we get stuck doing the same activities with different labels and never make the forward progress we need because a machine cannot recreate the functional movement of the human body. It can support it, but it only goes so far. Eventually we have to step out of the machine and into functional movement alongside other people. At some point we have to say no to the big boxes with expensive machines because they can only take us so far; community takes us the rest of the way.

What does this mean for the church? Church is a word that's supposed to describe a community of people, not a building. But when I say the word church, images of friends and family don't pop into my head. I start seeing walls, buildings, signs, colored lights, projectors, musical instruments, candles, pews and chairs. There's something wrong with the way my brain has been conditioned to think about church. I don't think I'm the only one who's been conditioned to think this way. Its no surprise to me that people are giving up on the material driven church. Lack of personal interaction is more than likely the number one reason people leave the church community. I say more than likely because I don't have statistics, but I do know from a customer service perspective, the people we don't get to know are the people who go somewhere else. Part of the problem of the modern church is that we don't know each other anymore because we don't spend time together.

If church were just a social club, spending time together would be enough to fix our problems. But church isn't a social club, its a way of life. It impacts everything we do: the decisions we make, the jobs we take, the food we eat, the people we choose to live with, how we spend our money, how we save our money, how we spend our time, who we spend our time with, how we raise a family, if we choose to raise a family. Yet too often we only want to spend 3 hours a week thinking about church. We go to a religious service, we hang out with some Christian people and we go out into our community to do some kind of public aid program. Does something familiar with this 3 hour approach ring a bell? Use these 3 machines and you'll build health? Or learn how to do all of these with one functional movement? I'd say get rid of the machine and learn how to be functionally fit. Spiritually fit.

Does this mean I believe we need to jettison the modern church? No, but we need to renew our minds and transform our thinking. It starts with personal decisions and communal living. When I think about the modern church, I think its in a place of dis-ease. It's helping some with machine based practices, but the challenge to become mindful about our activities, to think and pursue our passions without being stuck in an inefficient and expensive setting is going unheard. Why? Because the literature being produced by the church is largely coming out of the expensive church settings. We're not listening to the small successful communities because they aren't materially driven. And we keep reproducing our expensive programs because we haven't accepted the personal challenge to live differently. To integrate our lives, instead of dis-integrating them.

Meditations on Life

What do you do when you can't sleep because your brain is in a different time zone? I like to spend this time thinking about life, even though I'd rather be sleeping. In the past few days I've had the opportunity to reflect on how I'm living my life and how well I'm living as a Christian. I'm in the process of evaluating Christian Values from a Biblical perspective; my desire is to extract my cultural beliefs and ideals from my faith. Cultural Christianity isn't always Biblical Christianity. Given the size and scope of the Bible, as well as the reality of where I've grown up, this isn't an easy task. But we always have to start somewhere :)

Scripture Immersion-
I read the Bible 3-7 days a week. I say 3-7 because some weeks I fall off the bus and don't get to spend as much time reading it as I'd like. Other times its because I'm reading difficult portions of scripture, like the destruction of Jerusalem, and I need a break from the doom and gloom. Should Christians read their Bible? In the 21st century we believe this is a must. A personal must. But for 16 Christian centuries, the idea of a personal Bible was unheard of, Bibles were corporate property; they belonged to a community, not an individual. The point here is to spend time with Scripture, discussing what it means and asking ourselves difficult questions. This is best done in a group, not just privately by ourselves. I'm working on spending more time in groups discussing the Bible, not just hanging around other Christians. This is easier said than done, as not all Christians want to spend time evaluating their lives and asking themselves if they are living Biblically.

Giving-
I give 10% plus. The Biblical word here is tithe, which is Hebrew for one tenth. This fraction is an expression of giving a complete part of ourselves to God. In other words its a reminder to give all of ourselves, all of the time. Its also used in practical ways, such as supporting pastors, ministers, teachers and caregivers. When we don't give, the gospel and its mission goes unfunded. Tithing isn't just about an individual, its about communal support. If all Christians tithed and took care of the sick, poor and downtrodden, we wouldn't need government programs that do the same. I give more than 10% because I want to give more than what is required. I say plus because I don't really keep track of it. I remind myself that living the gospel isn't always about money, but personal costs such as time and effort. I give because I want to, not because I have to. Sometimes giving is hard, but I remind myself that God can meet my needs much better than a few dollars I earned at work.

Church Attendance-
This is a hot issue for me. Hot, as in it gets me fired up and looking for a soap box! I attend regularly; its rare for me not to be in a church on Sunday. I believe that we need to come together to hear the Bible, to listen to someone else's perspective, at least once a week. We should know whether or not the person teaching is preaching truth, or making it up. I've never left a group of Christians because the preacher wasn't a good speaker; I've left churches because preachers have been unbiblical: like always asking for money, focusing on emotions, focusing on self-help and focusing on disorderly spirit-led worship. I'm not always happy when I leave a church service, but I know that attending sharpens my faith and helps me identify truth.

Community Involvement-
I am involved in communities. I am not dedicated to a single one. I view this as somewhat of a personal problem that I haven't figured out how to solve yet. I want to bring my life into one singular focus, to not scatter myself all over the place. I'm working on it, but I'm also learning as I go.
Eating with Others-
This gets mentioned quite a bit in Scripture, and I'm just starting to get it. More often than not I eat alone; I'm too busy doing my own thing, going to my next community to stop and eat with others. I can grow a lot in this area.

Taking care of the Downtrodden-
I am regularly involved in an underserved community, with underserved youth, but to be honest, I suck at this. It's not a regular part of my life.

Prayer-
I pray. More often than not its on a regular daily and constant basis. I feel like my prayers have recently been weak, not much of a long term vision, but more hope and strength for the day. I pray a lot for my work, my small group, my basketball team and for other areas of my life. The problem is I spend a lot of time praying for me and those immediately around me. I need to spend more time praying for others.

As I look at my list I know its not complete. And it's clear to me I'm only doing the basics, that there's a communal aspect to my faith that I'm barely scratching the surface of. I'm doing the things I've been told I need to do: go to church, give, read the Bible, pray, but I'm missing out on the togetherness aspect of Christian life.

Injury

The hardest injuries to overcome are repetitive stress injuries and reoccurring injuries. Repetitive stress injuries occur from doing the same activity or motion over and over and over again. Reoccurring injuries stem from previous injuries They have names like tennis elbow and stem from too much of a good thing. I remember one of my earliest repetitive stress injuries, the inside of my elbows, which was not only a difficult place to mend, but almost impossible not to flair up while wrestling. The tendons in my elbows were separating from the ligaments, (think shin splints only in your elbows). Not only was this painful, but because of my wrestling schedule, it was a constant problem, and it followed me into my first tournament.

I wanted to win so badly I didn't care what it might cost me. My first opponent I finished pretty quick and my elbows didn't bother me. My second opponent took more effort, and my elbows were starting to flair up. Going into my third and final match for a title spot, I knew my elbows were going to be a problem. We were so evenly matched that by the third round I was exhausted and my elbows were on fire, but I needed one point to win. All I had to do was stand up and escape his grasp, hard to do when flexing your arm muscles hurts. I stood up and got slammed down. I stood up and got slammed down again. My coach was yelling, "Stand up! Stand up!" it was about all I could hear. I tried to stand up; I got slammed down again. The sixth time I got slammed back down, the referee awarded me a point because the slamming had become too violent. I won my first tournament because I refused to give up, despite the pain in my elbows. If I'd had any common sense, I probably wouldn't have won, but as a young freshman, winning was all that mattered. I cried out of joy and pain.

As a senior, I learned that some injuries were more serious than others. Having lost my junior season to a shattered hand, I was determined to win back the time I had lost. Winning mattered, but survival was more important. Fast forward to the day before the regional tournament. I got slammed into the mat at just the right angle to hurt my lower back. I knew that if anyone went after that injury, it was game over. Fortunately, no one did, and I fought my way into the state tournament. But state, which happened a week later, was a different beast. My back hadn't fully recovered, and I had the same mindset walking in, winning was important, but survival was key. What good is a state title without a lower back? I won my first match, no problems; I lost my second, no problems; and then I encounter the perfect storm: the Russian bear hug. It was literally the only move in my opponents repertoire: grab, squeeze and throw. It worked because he outweighed me by at least 10 pounds of muscle. So he grabbed, squeezed, threw and I escaped, but I knew my back couldn't take much more. I didn't push my limits and walked away with a healthy back. I cried out of disappointment and frustration.

My lower back has been a reoccurring injury because of a fallen left arch, that and maybe being slammed into the ground too much :). A lot of the exercises I do are effected by my lower back, and protecting it while strengthening it has been my primary focus ever since high school. When my lower back starts hurting I have to assess what I've been doing, how I've been doing it and if I've been letting my body rest and recuperate. It still flairs up from time to time, which makes me rethink and reconsider my actions: am I doing too many exercises, am I lifting too much weight, am I exercising too long, too hard, etc. I also know that doing nothing causes more pain, than doing something; my lower back feels healthiest when I exercise regularly. I walk a fine line between growth and pain, disappointment and frustration. When I get overly zealous for too long pain is around the corner, and the best thing I can do when I'm in pain is to back off and lighten up my exercise.

I believe these same principles apply to our spiritual lives.

My spiritual life has had similar re-occurring injuries. I'm very passionate about truth, and I can't stand lying. I've know a handful of men in different cities who have said one thing and done another, particularly in the area of physical purity. Sex. And relational boundaries. One of the most damaging experiences of my life was when a man I looked up to, and was hoping to intern under, left the ministry due to an inappropriate relationship. I had fought to get in the door, to try and make something happen, as most college students do, only to discover the truth. I pursued my ministerial studies, but decided going 'home' was no longer an option (I was attending college in a distant state).

I've never questioned that decision, survival was more important than winning. Fast forward to the end of college and the end of summer, and yet again I'm trying to get in a door that just won't open. I feel like I'm not taken seriously as a candidate, and then they ask me to come in on the day my parents need my help to move (I was living in an adjacent state). What was more important? A job? The idea of pursuing a position within a religious organization? Or taking care of my parents? Survival was more important than winning.

I found myself in the Midwest. No job, little money and trying to figure out what my next move was going to be. Having no where else to turn, I prayed and I fasted. I prayed and I fasted until I headed south to Texas and landed a job at the YMCA: working a dollar above minimum wage; living with my aunt, uncle and two wonderful cousins.

I had been to their church once while in college, and had really liked it, but when I tried it being a local, something smelled wrong. It didn't fit. I didn't want to be a part of it. At all. I said some harsh things, and I commuted to help a start-up church an hour away; in the 2nd hottest summer on record, without AC. I found a small community of loving, but broken people, and it was worth the drive. Every time.

Fast forward to the end of my first summer. The smell I didn't like was coming from the lead pastor who was involved in an inappropriate relationship. He was out. I was looking for more local work, and felt convicted about separating my two communities; no one would know if I was miss-stepping on the other side of the metroplex. I wanted to bring my two communities together, but I wanted to go anywhere but my aunt and uncle's church. I had recently moved out and wasn't excited about the idea of going "where I was supposed to go". Having set my eyes on a different but local church, I tried it. It didn't smell bad, but it didn't fit either. I walked out frustrated, wondering why it didn't fit. I didn't want to become a church shopper. I wondered if there were any other churches who had a service happening within the next few minutes. The only one I could think of was my aunt and uncle's church. So I be-grudgingly gave it a second chance. And I liked it. I apologized to them for my harsh words.

It wasn't perfect. (Is there such a thing?) but it was good for the moment. I got plugged in, tried an internship, and completed a school year's worth of time. Sort of. I gave up Sunday attendance to help the YMCA open its doors to a Hindu-based philosophy group. I'm still figuring out how to accurately describe it. For six months I disconnected from the Christian sub-culture. I stopped listening to music. I stopped listening to sermons. I read my Bible every day and once a week I met with a small group of men for breakfast. The book we were reading was entitled, "Radical: taking back your faith from the American Dream" I guess it wasn't too much of a surprise that I started seeing Christianity differently than I had seen it before. I started to see the sub-culture: the things we do that are not part of the gospel, and the more I saw them the more I disliked them.

After six months of sub-title reading and loving on a different community I was tired. I liked standing out in that crowd, but I also liked standing in. It was wonderful to be invited to participate, to share home cooked Indian food, to play sand-volleyball. But I knew something was missing; I wanted to go back to church. I arranged to serve the Hindu based group bi-weekly, and went back to church. It was weird. It felt foreign. It didn't make sense. And suddenly I knew how everyone who had never been in a church felt when they walked in the doors for the first time. Like an alien. Yet, I heard the truth. The unmistakable sound of the truth, even though it had a hazy shroud of culture around it. And the truth warmed my heart and told me that feeling like an outsider was okay. That the gospel was preached not to an inside crowd, but to an outside crowd.

Fast forward a few months. I had moved to a new city, started a new job and was looking for a new church. Everything was still within driving range (about an hour) but I wanted to be a part of the community I had surrounded myself with. I tried the church across the street. It was odd, but due to my recent experiences with feeling odd in church, I resolved to give it a good chance. And then it got too odd. Repetitive odd. Repetitive painful. As I started examining the sub-culture, it got even odder. I couldn't see or hear the gospel by what they were doing. I got angry. They were misaligning the truth. And I was giving in because I wanted to fit in.

I quit going.

I intentionally skipped the following week.

In the intermediate time I managed to give voice to my frustrations. Not everyone understood. Some thought I was a church breaker, a heretic or an atheist philosopher. That I was trying to lead people astray by saying that Sunday attendance isn't all its cracked up to be, that its not the pinnacle of the Christian life, that there are more important things, like living our values and seeking truth, than just staying in one place because its comfortable, normal and easy.

I went back to a church the next week. I Google searched the words 'Irving' and 'Church'. Guess I shouldn't be surprised that I ended up going to Irving Bible Church! What I thought was a small church of two-hundred or so turned out to be several thousand, and one of the largest churches in the metroplex. Go figure. But I gave it a chance. And I liked it. I also rode my bike to it on my first Sunday and discovered that churches really don't have bicycle parking, nor is it normal to carry a helmet with you into a service :)

But I liked it and I felt welcome AND I heard the truth. And as I have been to this church on a regular basis and have become a small group leader its starting to feel like home. Which is something I've really missed ever since I left my previous home in Washington. There's something really nice about being in a stable community and seeking after God. Its the foundation of Church. But its not THE foundation of the Church: Jesus is. And Jesus spent a lot of time on the road journeying from place to place. He encounters a lot of people on the road, and some of the best stories we keep telling are about the transformations that happen along the way. Not the planned stories that came from stable communities, but the unplanned ones that happened during communal upheavals.

I believe in stable communities. They are great places to grow and grow deep. But I also believe in the strength that comes from being tossed around by the wind, of finding our way, even though we're not entirely sure where we are going. The direction we end up going isn't as important as the compass we use to guide our lives: Jesus.

This is why I believe that taking time off from church attendance can be healthy and beneficial. That sometimes we don't have to force our faith, that we don't have to manage it, even though we cling to it. That we can find ourselves sharpened by experiences that should dull us, and find planned sharpenings oddly dulling. Faith isn't a dead object for us to shape; it's a living breathing entity. It's a part of us, just like our elbows and our lower backs. There are times we can push them to their limits and there is a time we should refrain and protect them. But above all we must keep using them. Just because they have been hurt once and have the possibility for reoccurring and repetitive injuries, doesn't mean we can give up on their usage. We shouldn't have to sacrifice our bodies, we should be sacrificing our lives. Which require pulling back, rest, recuperating and living to fight another day.

A letter to my small group

Hey Everyone,

 

I will be leaving for Australia on Friday and I'll be out until Black Friday. And since that's Thanksgiving weekend, I think it's safe to say we should be spending time with family and friends.

 

What should we do in the mean time? Since Jacob's not around does that mean that we can't meet as a small group? No. My presence is not required for meetings, nor is any authority required for any of us to gather together in part or as one.

 

?

 

Let me explain. Ideally we could all meet together every week. Practically, we know this isn't true. Honestly, I respect that life happens unexpectedly, but practically we can plan ahead most of the time.

 

In the past few weeks, group attendance has been low, but the quality of the conversation has been high; it's been wonderful to get to know those in attendance and practically discuss how the gospel is affecting our lives. How it effects the jobs we're in, how we interact with our co-workers, how we interact with our family, and how we interact with our pets (I couldn't leave Mindy out of this could I???)

 

It has been a blessing to spend uninterrupted and unplanned time talking about life & God. Some of our meetings have gone 4 hours, some only 1, some have ended exactly on time. While I recognize this as a blessing now, I didn't see it that way from the start.

 

My modus operandi is to manage and plan. To have a checklist and do everything on it. Always. All the time. Even if its a proverbial checklist that only exists in my head. It has to be right. It has to be accomplished. It has to be done when it needs to be done. The way my brain works is not the gospel of our LORD Jesus Christ. Jesus faced numerous interruptions, set backs and as far as I can tell didn't have a checklist of things he needed to do, and boy did he get stuff done! Jesus had greater efficiency with less planning. Which doesn't exactly fit my modern mindset.

 

If Jesus is my LORD and Saviour, then I need to do as he did and practice what he preached, which means letting go of the small group checklist. The study guide? We're not using it anymore. I personally blanched when I heard they were coming out with a new and 'improved' version. the gospel is about people, not management, even though great management can help people grow. I don't think management is what our group needs to grow. And I apologize that in our early meetings this is what was nonverbally communicated.

 

What are we doing in place of the study guide? Reading the Bible. Or asking the question, what did you think about the sermon? And I'm also discovering that we all aren't making it on Sunday.

 

It's okay.

 

?

 

Let me explain. The Sunday Service is for the edification of the body. If attending on Sunday is not edifying don't do it. If when you think of attending on Sunday, all you hear is the crack of the whip, don't go. Still seek God, still seek Christian community, seek edifying dialogue about this thing we call faith, and you will grow. And maybe you'll come back to Sunday, as I did.

 

?

 

Let me explain. I have a love hate relationship with the Church. I'm trained to be pastor, but finding my way into a christian community has been hard; I've felt like an outcast since college. And I've only wanted to be a part of a church where they accept outcasts. Where they find a way of encouraging the lost and confused and help them become whole. And let me tell you I've found a lot of fraudulent churches on my journey.

 

In some ways I've seen the worst, but I've also had the opportunity to see greatness in the ugliest of places. I've seen so much love in the smallest places that when I go to the larger ones I wonder what happened. Even so, I've seen ugliness in small places and true beauty in the largest ones. Its not the size of the building or the number of people inside that determines our ability to follow the gospel. That responsibility falls on us, our communities are supposed to help us, but even when communities fall and break apart we have the choice to stand by our values or to give them up.

 

In my own personal brokenness I have struggled with this idea. That even though I hate what I have seen, and hate the actions of some Christians, I am still a representation of Christ. That the bad name they generate for me, my friends and my family is one I will have to live with, and its one I must opposed. Not with angry words, not with my talents, but with my heart and the way I choose to live every day for Christ.

 

Even in christian circles, this is not always accepted. It's even frowned upon because it upsets the status quo. It sends out the message that we are imperfect and have work to do, even though we want to believe we have everything together. Living like Christ is a threat to those who do not want to honestly face their Creator and humble themselves before him.

 

I had to separate from the church for a while before I could understand this. And even in my coming back, the church is still a strange place. The customs I once found normative and comforting now seem strange, alien and foreign. My mind practically grasps how our christian cultures have been formed, how our traditions have taken place, how we have walked away from the person of Jesus. And I'm learning how to walk like Jesus, even though most days I trip and stumble.

 

I choose to carry on, because I believe in Christ, and what's he's done for me. What he's done for us all. I do not choose to be labeled a Christian because of what a religious organization called a church is, says, or does, but because of who Jesus is. He is someone I want to be like. Even if that means people think I'm a fraud, liar, heretic or some other form of common slur.

 

My prayer for your journey is that you find out who Jesus is. I can't give you a booklet to guide you on your path. I can suggest that you read the Bible and talk to God, and I can't tell you how you should do that, but I can tell you that if its a part of your daily efforts it can change your life. It's changed mine; its still changing mine.

 

So as our holidays come and we go our separate ways, go in peace. Go in the knowledge of our LORD and Saviour. Walk with God beside you, let him walk beside you, everywhere you go.

 

The purpose of our group is to glorify God and help each other. May that be who we become.

 

Amen.

 

 

Body Building

Body Building is a sport. It takes time, effort, dedication and a lot of planning. Competition day takes weeks of preparation, good nutrition and focus, In a few poses judges determine the value of weeks, months and years of work. The goal?  To stand out among the crowd with the most complete physique. Its not just about size and mass, but about how the pieces of the body fit together into one cohesive whole; whether or not all parts of the body show the same level of training and tireless sculpting. Body building is a beautiful sport, not because of the muscle on display, but because of the time it takes to bring one's body into a unified harmony of strength.

The sport of body building is a science of precision and movement. Judges specifically look for 5 things: mass, definition, proportion, symmetry and stage presence. Some of these seem quite obvious, but lets take a look at the judges vocabulary:

Mass- are the muscles big enough to stand out
Definition- how visible are the muscles
Proportion- have all muscles been strengthened and are they showing good relative size
Symmetry- when comparing the right and the left how even does the body look
Stage presence- how confident is the bodybuilder, how does he look in his poses

It's not enough for a body builder to be large, we need to see definition in the muscles.
It's not enough for a body builder to be well defined, good shape is also required.
It's not enough for a body builder to work favored muscles, the small and weak ones must be worked too.
It's not enough for a body builder to work one side of the body, both sides need to be equal
It's not enough to have a complete physique, we must be moved and impressed by the poise of the builder.

There's something about all the effort it takes to bring these five qualities to life; the juggling of exercises, the tempering of each and every myofibril and the confidence in what has been built that makes for a captivating sport. There's something about body builders that makes all of us wish we could be stronger; they inspire us to achieve in our bodies a part of what they've achieved in theirs.

Body building is impressive. One of the most commonly used words to describe believers in the New Testament is, "the body" as in, "the body of Christ". It was more popular than the word, "church" or Christians. Paul, writer of numerous letters to early groups of believers, referred to them as the body. He taught then to treat each other as members of one body. Implying that each of them was a part of the greater whole. Listen to what he wrote about the body in Corinth, Greece:

"For just as the body is one and has many members, and all the members of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ. For in the one Spirit we were all baptized into one body-- Jews or Greeks, slaves or free-- and we were made to drink of one Spirit.
Indeed, the body does not consist of one member, but of many. If the foot would say, 'Because I'm not a hand, I do not belong to the body,' that would not make it any less a part of the body. And if the ear would say, 'Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,' that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would the hearing be? If the whole body were hearing, where would the sense of smell be? But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose. If all were a single member, where would the body be? As it is, there are many members, yet one body. The eye cannot say to the hand, 'I have no need of you,' nor again the head to the feet, 'I have no need of you.' On the contrary, the members of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable, and those members of the body that we think less honorable we clothe with greater honor, and our less respectable members are treated with greater respect; whereas our more respectable members do not need this. But God has so arranged the body, giving the greater honor to the inferior member, that there may be no dissension within the body, but the members may have the same care for one another. If one member suffers, all suffer together with it; if one member is honored, all rejoice with it."

When I consider what Paul wrote, I think body builders get this; the whole body has to be worked as one. We can't seek to break it down into inferior and superior parts. All parts must work together: the strong with the weak. We cannot discard part of the body because we are frustrated with it. If a part of it is behaving inconsistently, we should train with it and around it to bring it back to stability. And bringing part of the body to a place of stability is a difficult exercise.

What I love most about body building, is the attention to detail; every part of the body is considered, cared for, and brought into supportive harmony. But more so than this, is the consistent drive to sculpt and shape. It's not enough to have built a body, it must continually be worked. Body building requires a lot of dedication. Growing the body as a body builder means consistently stepping outside of our comfort zones. It means finding the line between healthy burns and painful aches, and riding that line each day at the gym.

This sounds overwhelming, and it is. It is not possible to focus on all aspects of the body at one time. The body is too big. It is enough to focus on small little parts, understanding how the tiniest movements create big gains given enough time and dedication.

We are the body. We are the body builders. This is what it means to be a believer. My hope is that a piece of this goes with you into your day, even if its the piece about smiling confidently while you flex :)

Body Movement

When exercising for the first time, we do not move our bodies correctly. We may be able to go through proper looking motions, but truly and fully engaging our muscles comes with time and practice. When most people enter a gym for the first time, they assume with a little bit of exercise they will get great results. Within a few weeks they assume their body will look entirely different. They also assume the best way to change their body is by beating it up and breaking it down through overexertion. These assumptions are not entirely accurate: with a little bit of exercise over a long period of time, we can get great results and breaking down our muscles is necessary but we often only break them down one way, and in such a way that our bodies don't get a chance to recover.

Speed. It's the most commonly assumed part of exercise. If it isn't done fast and if I don't get my results quickly, then its not worth doing. Exercise without results is heartbreaking and deeply frustrating, but just because it feels like we're getting nowhere does not mean that we aren't growing. It may mean that we are discovering ways in which our body won't grow. Which means we need to change our methods, or it means that we are focusing on external and easily visible growth. Which means there is such a thing as internal and not readily visible growth.

Flexibility and balance are two examples of internal and almost invisible growth. Looking at two people on the street, we have no idea how flexible they are or how good their balance is. When we think of muscle development, we often overlook these areas, in part because we don't take pictures of balance and flexibility; they aren't considered attractive qualities on Facebook, we'd rather see someone's six pack. Yet balance and flexibility are two key components of stability: the sum total of forces that help us maintain good posture and health. Stability helps us maintain key changes in our body by providing a platform upon which we build everything else. The number one thing we need to build when going to the gym for the first time is stability, not mass or weight loss.

Why? Without stability we will not keep our mass and we will not keep our weight loss. There are plenty of quick options on the market to building mass and losing weight, but these quick and easy options do not last. Building stability is slow at first, but once we obtain it we can grow rapidly. Once our body has learned consistent stability, in various forms, we can then increase the load, frequency and duration of exercise. In short we can grow exponentially.

What happens if we try to grow exponentially and haven't build stability first? Injury and re-occurring injuries. Most injuries in the gym are due to lack of stability. We don't know how to move properly through our existing range of motion to strengthen and improve our range of motion. Too often we think if we push just a little harder and a little faster then we'll get the gains we desire. Once we know what we are capable of, having achieved a stable base, this is a decent way of increasing or decreasing our body size. Without knowing what we are capable of, this is a sure road to injury, frustration and quitting.

Some of us are too stubborn to quit. We know we must keep moving, but at what price? The worse our injuries the more we need to slow down and build stability. Which means we may end up moving at the pace of a snail. The snail, for all its faults and failures, achieves its goal. It successfully moves from point A to point B. My encouragement for those who are struggling and unstable is to slow down and take some more time. Once we figure out how to move as a snail, we can start moving as faster creatures. We all have to start somewhere.

Pain

We often don't like talking about pain, as it makes us uncomfortable, but pain gets worse the more we ignore it and the more we try to mask it. Think of a past physical injury. Did pretending nothing happened make it feel better? Did continuing to move the effected area as normal help recovery? Perhaps the old adage, "walk-it-off" helped? Too often we ignore pain as an inconvenience; we don't think of pain as our friend. Yet the truth about pain, that it is a guide to healthy recovery, goes un-promoted. Why? Because we'd rather not feel discomfort or be confronted with the truth: pain is a sign something is wrong.

How does pain signify wrongness? Let's consider the absence of pain. There is a degenerative disease of the nervous system that shuts down nerve receptivity. No reception from nerve endings means no pain, which means no feeling. No feeling means that people who have suffered from this disease have literally worked the fingers off their hands and the toes off their feet. Which is why leprosy was once believed to be a magical wasting disease that struck suddenly and without warning. And the only way to cure it was to cut off the affected appendages or limbs. Amputation is not the answer. Amputation was only the answer when an infected wound, which the affected person's body couldn't feel, became gangrenous. Which is a fancy way of saying part of the body was rotting while the rest of it was still alive. Anyone still want to go out for lunch?

Injuries are not rot, but unhealed injuries can be devastating. Crippling, even. Not just physically, but also emotionally. The physicians who overturned the magical diagnosis on leprosy did something unheard of, they didn't run away from their leprous patients, that is they didn't run out of fear of catching the disease. They sat down and studied the lives of their patients, and discovered that many of their wounds were overuse injuries that were never given the opportunity to heal. They discovered that fingers disappeared because open sores smell and rats like to eat smelly things. No pain means no feeling, even while being nibbled.

These grotesque images would surely be enough to convince a majority of people that its better to listen to our pain, then to ignore it completely. Or perhaps there aren't enough hungry rats in our lives to remind us to take better care of our bodies. But the rats we often see aren't the dirty and ferocious rodents we imagine slinking away in the dark. The rats many of us face are clean, well groomed and friendly. In other words the rats at our fingers are wearing us down with the promise of health, if we would work just a little harder for it. Or they tell us not to worry about it, take a couple of pills a day for the rest of our life and everything will be fine. We will be normal. Or they can take us away in a straight jacket and keep us away from society because they can't fix us.

Pain. It's a gift no one wants.

A gift that tells us when we're trying too hard. It tells us when we need to ease up on the reigns and relax a little bit. But too often we don't listen to this message. Instead we look for more stimulants, more masking additives that will keep us from focusing on the pain, but in the end make us cranky, irritable and completely oblivious to a beautiful morning sunrise. Many of us live with chronic pain, because we don't know what life would be like without it. Pain becomes apart of us, even as we try to get it away from us.

Jesus healed a man who lived in a cycle of constant pain:

"When Jesus had stepped out on land, there met him a man from the city who had demons. For a long time he had worn no clothes, and he had not lived in a house but among the tombs. When he saw Jesus, he cried out and fell down before him and said with a loud voice, 'What have you to do with me, Jesus, Son of the Most High God? I beg you, don't torment me.' For he had commanded the unclean spirit to come out of the man. (For many a time it had seized him. He was kept under guard and bound with chains and shackles, but he would break the bonds and be driven by the demon into the desert.) Jesus then asked him, 'What is your name?' And he said, 'Legion,' for many demons had entered him. And they begged him not to command them to depart into the abyss. Now a large herd of pigs was feeding there on the hillside, and they begged him to let them enter these. So he gave them permission. Then the demons came out of the man and entered the pigs, and the herd rushed down the steep bank into the lake and were drowned. When the herdsman saw what had happened, they fled and told it in the city and in the country. Then people went out to see what had happened, and they came to Jesus and found the man from whom the demons had gone, sitting at the feet of Jesus, clothed and in his right mind, and they were afraid. And those who had seen it told them how the demon-possessed man had been healed."

The man in this story has deep problems. Problems no one in his community can solve. Problems so big that chains and guards can't sedate them. This man is crazy, by an ages description. He's so crazy he can come before Jesus and fall down at his feet, because no one is willing to try and stop him; they are all too afraid. Jesus doesn't pull back in horror of who this man is. Jesus could have easily jumped back in the boat and set sail without having to confront him. But instead Jesus steps out of the boat and into the man's world of darkness. A world of loneliness and failure. And where others have tried to set him free through chains, Jesus simply says a few words, and the demons depart from the man's mind. Clarity and health are restored, but the people of the city are afraid.

They would rather have a crazy man and a herd of pigs, than a restored man with no pigs. The pigs are the price of this man's sanity is not just a few words from Jesus. Its not that the pigs were a sacrifice. Pigs are not a sacrificial animal. But the pigs represent something wrong with the community of Jews. Jews don't eat pork. So why is there a herd of pigs near a Jewish city? Pigs are good for one thing, and one thing only. Eating. Somebody is eating something they're not supposed to, or taking advantage of an industry they are not supposed to be in.

Jesus didn't come across the lake to lecture the Jewish community about pork and pigs. He came to set a man free, and in the process he pointed out that something was wrong with their community. But the people don't want to be confronted with what's wrong, they were afraid of being judged. Which is a stark contrast to the man who has not moved away from Jesus feet. Despite all his flaws, lack of clothing, lack of friends and lack of just about everything, Jesus did not judge him. Jesus healed him. Jesus did not blame the man for his problems, Jesus set him free from them. When we fall down at Jesus feet, he does not condemn. He sets right. He heals. Not temporarily. Purely and fully.

It is the purity of Jesus that scares so many people. We'd rather cling to the pigs in our lives then let go and be free from the demons in our heads. Pain is a gift that tells us something is wrong. The man at Jesus feet was freed from his pain and restored to a healthy mind. Pain is not meant to be a state of being, its an indication something is wrong. It exists so we can be made whole. It exists so we can be healed.

Foundational Steps

The most difficult aspect of Tai Chi is the constant movement, even though most of the movements are slow. Each of the 108 short form postures is a series of flowing movements that continuously challenge balance, posture and body position. While there is always an opportunity to correct these foundations, I have often found myself one step behind; I've been slightly out of position and unable to explain why, even though I've been practicing these postures for more than a year. A few days ago I had an observational epiphany, which became a practical epiphany, and has strengthened my movements ever since. I was literally stepping with the wrong foot.

Since Tai Chi requires constant steps in various directions, movement isn't as simple as stepping with the left or the right. The angle of the step, the distance from one foot to the other, all play into the short form positions. Having spent most of my time focusing on angle and foot distance, I missed a core truth about Tai Chi movement. It's all about balance! Not balance as in achieving equality between right foot and left foot, but balance as in the ability to shift weight from one foot to the other while moving. This is incredibly easy to miss, especially if you have strong legs. The temptation with strength is to force the body into movement. Instead of flowing smoothly from posture to posture, from foot to foot, we end up flexing, holding and releasing; which is one step too many. There is a better, more efficient way.

Tai Chi is about emptying and filling. I empty one foot of weight and fill the other. I shift my weight into one leg, balance on that foot, move the other leg, then transfer my weight and balance on the foot I moved. This is extraordinarily simple! But I missed it because of all the distracting upper body motions. It's hard to think about our feet while thinking about our hands. So yes, it has taken me a year of practice to figure out how to correctly step and move my feet. It's not that I was putting my feet in the wrong positions, but I was stabilizing them incorrectly in those positions; I was not balanced. Balance is key to foundational movement. Not balance in the sense of equality, like balanced scales, but balance as the sense of emptying, filling and moving.

But how did I get to a place where I could think about my feet? How did I arrive at the conclusion that I was not moving the same way as the master? I didn't use mirrors to visually check my movements, rather I checked my difficulty of movement against his effortless flow; something had to be wrong, and I needed to figure out what it was.

Before I started thinking about balance, I started with posture, and I wasn't thinking about posture (spinal alignment) while practicing Tai Chi; I was thinking about it while weight lifting and doing boot camp. With my history of low back pain, stemming from a fallen arch in my left foot, I've learned a lot about strength and posture within the last three years. Foundationally, our body is a muscle. We can choose to strengthen it, prop it up, or do both. A healthy body does not need props, but a sick body does. A sick body needs external help, outside observations, and the occasional prop, to bring itself back into alignment. Once alignment is achieved, strength needs to be built in order for the body to maintain alignment. The health system I am most familiar with is all about external help and props, but it does not teach us how to be strong. And most of us don't ask, because building strength takes time. It's a slow activity; we'd rather do something else. We settle for someone else's advice and expertise, rather than digging into our foundational movements, comparing our movements to those who are healthy, and mirroring the movements of healthy people. I am for healthcare, as I have benefitted from healthcare providers, but there is a gap between those who rely on healthcare and those who are healthy. There will always be sick people in need of help, but we must own our bodies health or we will never be healthy. The study of posture has given me health. The practice of posture while lifting weights and moving quickly and diversely, has made me stronger and my health more secure. The greatest challenge of posture is to maintain alignment while moving. Building proper movement means slowing down, going at eighty percent, instead of one-hundred. At eighty percent we are still in conscious control of our bodies. At one-hundred percent we stop thinking, we just do. One-hundred percent is fun, but most of our injuries stem from going a hundred without the proper posture. We need to dial down our effort, take a little more time, take off a few weights and practice moving properly. It's not fun, and it almost feels like a waste of time, but it is worth the effort.

Achieving proper posture feels like this: doing multiple functional movements like running, squatting, dragging, pushing, jumping, planking and carrying. When we do these activities properly we feel it in our core muscles. Too often when exercising we do not engaging our abdominals, obliques, or spinal erectors in a way that functionally supports our movement. As we learn to engage these core muscles in our activity, our core muscles feel the burn; the idea of doing abs afterward sounds absurd, because our core muscles were already engaged and working. Proper functional movement engages the core and supports the spine. It doesn't cause pain, it eliminates pain. Which leads us to our last foundations: body position.

Exercising for an hour is only four percent of our day. The other ninety-six percent, how we position our bodies, plays a larger role in determining our health. How we walk, sit, sleep, what we wear on our feet impacts our posture and our balance. It's not enough to devote an hour of mindful exercise each day, we need to mindfully consider our environments. Are our habits supporting our health? Or are they taking away from the health we're trying to build? For example, I love taking naps. My favorite place to nap was a rug on my living room floor. Around a time I was taking more naps, I discovered my lower back was hurting more and more. More pain meant more naps, since I fully believe in resting sore muscles. Instead of getting better I got worse. One day I woke up from the floor and my lower back felt noticeably worse. I cut floor napping out. Soon my back started feeling better, and everything returned to normal. As a result I take less naps and have more time in my day. How we position and support our body matters, exercise isn't always the answer. How we position our bodies throughout the day, even while sleeping, impacts our overall health.

The most difficult aspect of healthy Christianity is the constant movement. Living and breathing Christianity requires observation, mindful movement, balance, proper alignment and good body position. Unhealthy Christianity requires no movement, no pondering, no risks. In other words, it is dead, because dead things don't move. Dead Christianity lives, because their are Christians who choose to lead dead lives. Our experience of Christians depends on whether they choose to live or be dead: to be healthy or unhealthy. To discover their own health and take charge of it, or to rely on props provided by others. Foundationally, Christians are supposed to move and be healthy, because they mirror their God.

The first description of God can be found in the opening words of the Bible, "In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters." The Spirit of God, literally the breath of God, not only describes God as alive, but also moving, 'hovering over the face of the waters." The image here is one of an eagle riding a warm breeze. In all of the Bible, the LORD God is never described as stagnant, even when His Spirit rested on the Temple Solomon built. "a cloud filled the house of the LORD, so that the priests could not minister because of the cloud, for the glory of the LORD filled the house of the LORD." God filled his house, the cloud is how he led the Israelites out of Egypt and to the Promised Land. God returned in the cloud after they established themselves as a people. It was His way of showing His people that He was still alive and active among them.

Fast forward a few hundred years, and several wicked kings, and the LORD is no longer pleased with His people. He's not pleased with the stagnant religion that's deadened the hearts of the followers who are called by His name. Even so, listen to how God deals with his people, "The LORD, the God of their fathers, sent persistently to them by his messengers, because he had compassion on his people and on his dwelling place. But they kept mocking the messengers of God, despising his words and scoffing at his prophets, until the wrath of the LORD rose against his people, until there was no remedy." God gives his people every chance to rebuild, to pursue health, until the very last moment. He keeps inviting them away and warning them of the path they are on, until it is too late:
"Therefore he brought up against them the king of the Chaldeans, who killed their young men with the sword in the house of their sanctuary and had no compassion on young man or virgin, old man or aged... And they burned the house of God and broke down the wall of Jerusalem and burned all its palaces with fire and destroyed all its precious vessels." At this point, God had already left the Temple; it was only a mass of religious-looking rocks. Even so, if we keep reading until the end of Second Chronicles we find hope, that even though God destroyed the place where people practiced in his name, he wasn't done with his people, "the LORD stirred up the spirit of Cyrus king of Persia, so that he made a proclamation throughout his kingdom and also put it in writing, 'The LORD, the God of heaven, has given me all the kingdoms of the earth, and he has charged me to build him a house at Jerusalem, which is in Judah. Whoever is among you of all his people, may the LORD his God be with him. Let him go up.' "

The final note of Second Chronicles is not one of anger and wrath, but of a chance at new life. That even what was deformed and dysfunctional can be renewed. Even though it seems like God is dead, because his people live dead lives or have all passed away, it isn't so. God is not tied to a building, He moves and breathes, even when we can't see him move or feel his breath. God is alive. He wants us to have life. He wants us to be healthy. He extends hands out to us to consider his ways, to live his movements, to learn how to shift our weight and stay in constant motion, even when it feels like we're moving very slowly and making no progress. It is in these moments that God is remaking us anew. He's stripping us of our bad habits, unhealthy environments and teaching us how to live again. This is the foundation God wants to build in us, even though its tiring and frustrating, it is the way of a healthy life. God's desire for us is to live healthy; its why his healthy followers are patiently persistent.

Striking

A few days ago a friend described me as a boxer and football player, and then remarked about my peaceful disposition. In his few short words, he expressed that boxers and football players are not often calm and peaceful. They are often thought of as forceful, emotional and quick tempered: personality traits he did not associate with me. Such a contrast creates a paradox, a sense of enigma, for it is not often we find our views of this world conflicting with the reality of others lives. His unspoken question, "how can a peaceful person partake of violent sports," went unanswered. As I reflect on his question, I do not have a simple answer. Love. Like I said, not simple.

I do not love violence, but I love moving. I love striking. There is something thrilling in the execution of a solid punch, or the crack of a precise tackle. There is something glorious in a solid defense. Either the duck and dodge, evading incoming blows, or the hands of an offense player keeping his teammate safe. There is nothing wrong in these movements. But occasionally there is something wrong in how they are carried out. I have vivid memories of a few times I have felt anger in the hands of teammates. It is one thing to know an opponent dislikes you, that is to be expected, but it is another to feel the anger of a teammate in his hands as he strikes you. It's a disgusting feeling. An enraging feeling. And rage is anger out of check.

Why is anger and rage a part of sport? Why is it that we associate these emotions with sports, even those that do not strike? Often the first emotion I see when I see a team start losing is rage. Someone breaks out in an angry shout. Equipment gets thrown. Cursing follows. Why? Why is it that defeat is visible, tangible and irrational? Does anger make us any stronger? It may cause a momentary adrenaline rush, but the rush fades, and it fogs our minds. Adrenaline, like any drug, takes stronger doses to get the same feeling, unless the body is given time to recover. If adrenaline use, for the purpose of fueling ourselves with anger, is left unchecked, we toe a line that can make adrenaline our only competitive savior: the only way we can summon the energy to win. Should we consistently behave this way, there is an emotional price to be paid.

I do not relish striking with anger. As such I try to avoid striking with rage or malice in my heart. Occasionally I do, but I do not wish for anger to become the source of my strength. Anger is a quick burning fuel; when it burns it consumes more than just energy, it takes a little bit of our calm, peace and love with it too. It becomes hard to focus on these things while we are angry. Anger is not sin, but it is an open doorway to dangerous and costly actions; we simply stop thinking about what we do and the consequences involved. I love striking, but I do not strike out of anger. I strike as a way of focusing my body into a precise movement that takes all of my attention, all of my being. I strike with purpose and care, not swinging wildly like a brawler or frightened school child. Striking precisely with my hands, shoulders and feet helps me strike precisely with my mind. And occasionally I practice striking at very slow speeds so that I can learn how to properly land a quick movement.

Did Jesus ever strike with such care? Did he ever strike so fast and precisely that he left his opponents wondering what happened? Did he slowly practice his striking, preparing for the day when he would talk action? Yes, he did:
"And they came to Jerusalem. And he entered the temple and began to drive out those who sold and those who bought in the temple, and he overturned the tables of the money-changers and the seats of those who sold pigeons. And he would not allow anyone to carry anything through the temple. And he was teaching them and saying to them, 'Is it not written, "My house shall be called a house of prayer for all the nations?" But you have made it a den of robbers.' And the chief priests and the scribes heard it and were seeking a way to destroy him, for they feared him,"

Let me explain this with a western edge: Jesus forced the cheats and liars out of the temple. He flipped over the carts and kiosks of the con-men who were taking advantage of the pious poor. He stopped people from making the temple a means to an end. He stopped people from walking over the temple because they were too lazy to walk around it. He openly accused those in authority of their purposeful misuse and abuse of his Father's house. He accused them of closing the temple towards outsiders. He accused them of creating an in-crowd. He accused them while they were watching. That day he openly confronted their thieving. The crowd listened to his words, and all the while the authorities sat back in the shadows afraid to confront him in the open. Jesus struck openly, intently, with a ferocious sense of indignation flowing from the love of his Father's house, and the people who should have been safe within it's walls. Jesus is a precise striker.

Jesus actions in the temple do not bear the mark of a man driven by anger or rage. Although they appear to be his dominant emotions. Jesus is in complete control of himself, even though this tale is full of violent imagery. Jesus had a stronger motivation, a motivation that would take him far beyond clearing the temple. His last week in Jerusalem, he confronts the religious authorities. He exposes their reliance on man-made laws, tells stories about unfaithful and corrupt tenants, he attacks their false doctrines and puts a spotlight on their filthy lives. He expertly disarms every faction of the religious authorities, by showing how little they know about their God, and the public cheers for him! This is why the authorities decided to kill him.

 His motivation is what I strive for when I strike. An action that has a greater and more significant purpose. The action is more complex than the visual. Jesus is still a man of peace, even though he lands crippling blows of criticism. Jesus is still be a man motivated by love, even when he looks angry and out of his mind. Jesus, who we often make out to be a simple quiet man, is very complex. To understand him as a person, one has to study how, when and why he strikes.

Jesus is not simple. As we come to understand his motivation, we come to understand his complex and puzzling movements; we begin to understand his mission. Jesus occasionally appears as a contradiction to his own cause; that is only because we don't understand how he strikes.

Movement

The body is made to move within it's range of motion. A motion's duration depends on how stacked a body is. Stacked, meaning how the body functions as a whole. For example, flipping a 300kg tire requires the upper body to lock-out while the lower body does the majority of the lifting. Any break in the tension between the hands gripping the tire, the elbows, shoulders and chest position cause the tire to become an immovable object. No matter how large the lifters physique, moving the tire requires proper alignment. Proper alignment is hard; dysfunctional alignment is much easier.

Dysfunctional alignment is simple, part of the body compensates for another part that is injured or misaligned. Dysfunctional alignment works for a time. The duration of its function depends on how big the dysfunction is. Small dysfunctions, which can be easily corrected if caught early, usually result in little discomfort. But the longer a small dysfunction takes place, the greater change it has to become a bigger dysfunction. That's the law of compensation. Once compensation begins, it has to be confronted before it will change; there has to be a will and a knowledge of what and how to change.

Most of the time, we are only aware of a dysfunction once it becomes painful. Small dysfunctions can be lived with because we don't often push ourselves to our limits; we like to stay within our comfortable boundaries, but outside our boundaries we discover truth. We test our knowledge of movement, to see if our constructed theories function in the real world. The truth about our theories? If they are stacked on fundamental truth and properly aligned, they will hold. If they are not, then our dysfunctions will surface. Pain, or lack thereof, is a good indicator of proper alignment.

Yet as we talk about the physical, the social world doesn't always adhere to proper alignment. Often times it follows the law of compensation, letting things get worse and worse while not address the underlying dysfunction; sometimes we prefer to numb our pain rather than let it heal properly.

When I think about the market for physical pain killers, I shake my head in disbelief. There is a time and a place for pain relief. But there is no such thing as vitamin A, T or I (Aleve, Advil, Tylenol or Ibuprofen) These pain relievers may help to reduce swelling, but taking them everyday is not the answer to pain. They simply let the pain get worse while we refuse to deal with the source.

So what is the source of our pain? Why do we push our bodies into dysfunction and misalignment? Sometimes it is unintentional, other times it is pursuit of the cure. Other times its in pursuit of money, or a relationship, an opportunity to win or get ahead of the competition. But are these movements, and are these actions justified?

If we look at history, we can point to times and places where dysfunction replaced health. It's usually toward the end of a people's existence; the end of their way of moving. Dysfunction always leads to the brink of annihilation. But before it goes, it often makes a final desperate attack on health. What happens when the healthy are pursued and struck down by dysfunction? What happens when dysfunction becomes the accepted norm?

King David lived in such times. Here is how he faced them; he cried out to God for deliverance.

Hear my prayer, O LORD;
give ear to my supplications in your faithfulness;
answer me in your righteousness.
Do not enter into judgment with your servant,
for no one living is righteous before you.

For the enemy has pursued me,
crushing my life to the ground,
making me sit in darkness like those long dead.
Therefore my spirit(breath) faints within me;
my heart within me is appalled.

I remember days of old,
I think about your deeds,
I meditate on the works of your hands.
I stretch out my hands to you;
my soul thirsts for you like a parched land.

Answer me quickly, O LORD
 my spirit(breath) fails.
Do not hide your face from me,
or I shall be like those who go down to the Pit.
Let me hear of your steadfast love in the morning,
for in you I put my trust.
Teach me the way I should go,
for to you I lift up my soul.

Save me, O LORD, from my enemies;
I have fled to you for refuge.
Teach me to do your will,
for you are my God.
Let your good spirit lead me on a level path.

For your name's sake, O LORD, preserve my life.
In your righteousness bring me out of trouble.
In your steadfast love cut off my enemies, and destroy all my adversaries,
for I am your servant.


What I like about David's prayer, he doesn't base his plea on his own personal proper alignment. Instead he prays to be properly aligned, while those who are not (those who are pursuing him) to be brought to their end. David prays because God is aligned and fundamentally stacked on truth, and it is David's trust in God on which he bases his hope that the dysfunctional will not overtake him, but that instead their dysfunctions take their final course, so that health can be restored.