The first security company came in with a laptop computer, a projector, with a considerable reputation — at least that’s what my neighbors said; I didn’t know them from Adam. They proposed 53 digital videos to cover our neighborhood. Interesting. Modern. High Tech… and costly; even with all the residents anteing up. The second company was one guy – a hard working Joe (or at least he struck me like that). His presentation was about 8 minutes short and to the point. Nothing high tech, nothing fancy, nothing striking really but he was trying.

As I sat there and observed the ensuing conversation among the almost 30 or so of us left in the room — it was late — I began to sense I was watching a new reality TV show “Suburbanoid” [Suburban and Paranoid]. Alliances being built, smooth talkers with “experience” in neighborhood associations, one sane voice in the crowd (not mine, I was observing), a litany of opinions for what was best for the community, and a subtle level of paranoia.

I was struck at how the glitz and glamor of the fancy digital-cameras-proposal lulled these neighbors in with it’s false promises of security. In fact, the main thing driving this strange love affair with security was pure, unadulterated FEAR disguised under the veneer of the “concerned neighbor exterior”. Marketing says that sex sells, but I think fear must come in at a very close second. So based on fear the neighbors decided on the more expensive alternative. They’ll end up paying over $700,000 within the next three years if this passes. Then the true colors came out with the following question…

What about those neighbors who don’t ante up and pay the monthly quota?? Ahhh, good question! Ideas poured in; none good really. But in the volley of the back-and-forth discussion I began to notice that this issue of “What do we do with those who don’t pay?” was taking a dark turn. I began hearing, “It’s not fair that we should cover someone who doesn’t pay.” or “What right do they have to security?” and “Is there any way to make them pay?”

Then she said it… one stark and sinister comment from a true suburbanoid. She put into words what many were thinking but didn’t want to say: “I think that those of us who pay for this security should get a flag to put on our wall or gate and if the cameras catch someone assaulting a home which does not have one of these flags, we stipulate to the guards not to respond, and to let the thieves break in! I know that is selfish, but hey…” A silent pause, then the heart-breaking assent from the crowd.

Okay, I had already been feeling some inner turmoil at hearing how people were being led by fear like a cow is led by the nose ring. And now I was just plain disgusted for a few reasons: 1) I am one of those who can’t pay what they are proposing; it’s simply not in my budget. I prefer to put food on the table and give my gals an education, 2) this manipulation of fear threw wisdom right out of the window, and 3) the ease with which this lady offered her unjust solution and by which the rest of the herd mooed in agreement. It was downright dismaying and scary.

I have to guard my heart to stave off resentment; but I was angry and justifiably so, I believe. When they come around to do the “census” of who in the neighborhood might join the lemmings, I am going to respectfully and honestly speak my peace. Frankly, we are out of here in a few months as we’re moving to another area, but I’m concerned for those folks who live here who also may not be able to pay… they will be left uncared for and the rest of the good neighbors will seemingly stand idly by. These “unpayables” will suffer the fate of the man who was ambushed on his way to Jericho, and who was met by the uncaring and indifferent Priest and Levite.

“Our Father in Heaven, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” Matthew 6:10 (ESV)

Thanks for letting me vent a bit.

He put another parable before them, saying, “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed that a man took and sowed in his field. It is the smallest of all seeds, but when it has grown it is larger than all the garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and make nests in its branches.” (ESV)

The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed? I’ve heard some pretty preposterous similes, and from a logical standpoint, this one makes little sense. It can be downright depressing if we only take this statement at face value and don’t dig any further as to its meaning. Recently, I was reading the parable of the weeds and the wheat (Matthew 13:24-30) and was intrigued to find this shorter parable resting discreetly in the text that follows, in verses 31 and 32. “The kingdom of heaven is like a grain of mustard seed…”

I began to reflect on some of the interesting elements that God uses to drive home the power of the small and the insignificant. A variety of things came to mind:

• God preferred to dwell in a roving tent, rather than in an ornate temple (2 Samuel 7:5-6).
• God’s choice was the youngest of Jesse’s sons to become the greatest political figure in Israel’s history (1 Samuel 16:6-13).
• The widow’s mite was of far greater value than the considerable offerings of the rich (Luke 21:1-4).
• In order to enter the kingdom of heaven, we must have the attitude of a child (Luke 18:15-17).
• The feeding of the 5,000 was accomplished with only five loaves of bread and two fish (Luke 9:13-17).

These are just a few examples of God’s odds—where the small, the insignificant, and the unrealistic are actually the reverse, or as some commentators call it, the upside-down kingdom.

It is almost mind-bending to think about God’s criteria and methodologies. What is it about the widow’s mite that made it so much more abundant than the rich gifts of the wealthy? How was it possible to feed 5,000 people on such a meager supply? How can it be that the more we are like children, the closer we are to the kingdom of heaven? How can less really be more, first be last, servant be leader, etc?

Perhaps part of the answer to this divine arithmetic lies in that tiny little mustard seed. First, in ancient Jewish Palestine, the planting of the mustard seed in a garden was forbidden (Mishnah Kilayim 3:2) because of its subversive impact. It was the kudzu of antiquity. Planting mustard would ensure that one’s garden would be overrun by the weed and the gardener would eventually be left with a plot overflowing with mustard. Secondly, the potency of the mustard seed is only realized when it is crushed.

If we apply these truths to the analogy, it gives extra poignancy to the parable. God’s intent is for the kingdom of heaven to permeate every fissure and fracture of this hurting world. And like the mustard seed, that will happen only when we are the broken, crushed vessels through which our families, neighbors, and communities are able to taste and experience the realities of Jesus’ presence and his love for them.

Reflection Questions

1. Our culture usually believes that bigger, newer, and faster is best. How are you intentionally looking for and appreciating the small and the insignificant?
2. In what ways have you experienced being “crushed” or broken in order for the fragrance of the kingdom of heaven to be released?
3. As you reflect, what other ways have you experienced God’s upside-down kingdom as you follow Christ?

1) She has been graced with such strong giftings (pastoral, mercy/compassion, wisdom) that this is a natural building experience for her and her future ministry.

2) I’m so thankful that CRM acknowledges and inspires spaces for women to grow in leadership, recognizing that women are truly of significant influence in many spheres.

3) I’m thankful that our mission is leading the dialog on empowering women in ministry and leadership. Personally, this means that my two girls will be influenced by a mom who has had the blessing of opportunity.

So, I’m glad my wife left me today knowing that she’ll come home with a sharper set of ministry tools, with a hope for more graceful influence in many spheres, and with a sense of joy that she could spend unbroken time with women colleagues and dear friends. We will all benefit from this work of God in her life!

• Fervent and strong manifestation of Jesus’ sonship and kingly authority.
• Jesus ruling the earth as a political overlord.
• Jesus dominating, subjugating the kingdoms of the world.
• Introduction of theocracy.
• Strengthening of God’s Kingdom and his justice through political power.
• No suffering.

Sounds pretty nice as a missions strategy. Imagine how the world might look and the potential for the peace that might reign if these mission’s elements were put into practice. Well, Jesus had the opportunity to accomplish these strategies when he was tempted in the desert… and he said NO to everyone of them. He said no because this was Satan’s mission strategy and not the will of the Father in whom he did everything.

What I love about Jesus (among many things) is how he could see straight through the facade of this power trip. Satan was so setting him up and yet in what may have been one of his more fatigued moments, Jesus declared a resounding no to the path of least resistance and highest personal glory. In fact he flipped it all on its head.

Jesus’ mission strategy manifested the following elements:

• Debunk the top-down approach, in favor of his Immanuel “God with us” reality.
• He left his position of prestige and power to “dwell with among us”
• He said no to manifesting his power and satisfying his hunger and thus can relate with those who hunger.
• He didn’t usher in his Kingdom by triumphalist acts, but by the cross.
• His Kingdom was inaugurated in by his suffering.
• He has solidarity with those who suffer.

Johannes Nissen, states, “In short, Jesus was tempted to abuse his strength, his gifts, his relation to the Father. It was the temptation of triumphalism, forgetting or bypassing the cross.” I love that Jesus chose another way. I can easily follow such a God into wherever he will take me!

*Adapted from Johannes Nissen’s book New Testament and Mission: Historical and Hermeneutical Perspective

The gist is something like the following: Big animals (the elephant) have slower heartbeats, because they are bigger they have more cells, because the cells have to communicate over a vast area they are more efficient, thus the heart can beat slower. In the case of the shrew the inverse is true: the small animals have more rapid heartbeats, because they are smaller they have less cells, because the cells don’t have to communicate over such vast areas, the heart beats faster.

Well according to Geoffery West, research and head of the Santa Fe Institute there is a mathematical unity that helps unlock the answer to such questions. Biologists have compared the heartbeats of mammals and discovered that on average (this won’t apply to any individual, just to groups) elephants and shrews and most of the critters in between have a limit of about a billion and a half heartbeats in a lifetime and then they die.

I got curious and calculated the avg human lifespan according to this mathematical unity theory. According to my whiz-bang math abilities, I’m supposed to live until roughly 47.5 years, then my ticker is supposed to poop out at a billion-and-a-half heartbeats. I’ve got to figure out how to spend my time over the next 6 years! If this is so, then why do many humans live almost twice as long?

Turns out that there are some mitigating circumstances like 1) we take baths, 2) we don’t eat rotting flesh, 3) we brush our teeth, and 4) we enjoy the benefits of medicine. That’s a relief!

However, in light of Psalm 144:4 “Man is like a breath;
 his days are like a passing shadow”, a billion-and-a-half heartbeats is sounding pretty good! The great thing though is that God isn’t concerned with the number of heart beats he gives us, he is much more concerned with saying, “Well done, good and faithful servant. You have been faithful over a little… Enter into the joy of your master.” (Matt 25:23). These are the words I want to hear whenever my ticker dwindles down finally, be it a 1.5 billion, less or more.

The story: I recently bought the Prince of Egypt DVD for my girls. They have heard the story of Moses and the Israelites and the Exodus many times. But the day they watched the story animated, was the day story began to take shape in ways we could not anticipate. My adult eyes have witnessed the scenes and glossed over small but significant details. My daughter’s eyes riveted on something that has made man think deeply about the interaction between God and humanity.

The Scene: Moses warns Pharaoh of the impending [10th] Plague—death of all firstborns, if not covered by blood of a lamb—later that night the angel of death descends from heaven and goes into the Egyptian homes taking the last breath away from the eldest born. Afterwards we see Pharaoh holding his dead son in his arms, laying him on a stone table and covering his face with a sheet.

Normally, adult eyes see this and move on. But a dichotomy arose in my daughter upon witnessing this. Later in the evening as I was fixing her supper, she asked, “Daddy, why did Jesus kill the king’s boy if he was nice.” In other words, “How can God kill the [seemingly] innocent?” Ooof!! I instantly prayed for some high wisdom and began trying to formulate an answer that was not theologically rigid nor candy-coated.

We were soon conversing about about God’s great mercy and grace as Moses gave Pharaoh God’s warnings, we talked about sin in each of us and how none is worthy, we talked about how the blood of the lamb is a representation of Jesus blood on the cross and how he forgets our sin, and we talked about how daddy’s and mommy’s response to God has direct impact on her’s and sister’s life, so daddy and mommy have a high responsibility before God just as she will have when she’s a mommy.

I don’t know if I answered the depth of her question. All I can hope is that Jesus translated my feeble words in such a way that she readily understood and was drawn more into him and not away from him. I have faith this is so.

This analogy (obviously limited, but I think also helpful) is a visual picture of the of God’s missionary heart that he has woven all through the Bible and how this tapestry model of mission changes the way we read, understand, and respond to this motif—God’s mission to bless the nations. All of a sudden the discovery that God is a missionary God explodes throughout the whole Canon of Scripture and into our personal reality.

At some levels I see the barrier that prevents us from adequately seeing this overarching theme of God’s Mission in Scripture is due to many things. Among those might be, our personal worldview, the impact of reductionism in our perceptions (separating Scripture into neat theological categories), or a fear of what we might see and have to respond to. But I also believe that we must plod onward to reach a point where we allow this “Trinitarian missionary filter” to inform the response of our lives to God’s Word.

Does this perspective negate other traditional views of God’s interaction with mankind, with the church, with the individual? No, I don’t think so. What I think it does is help tie together many of these issues under a more holistic understanding of God’s Word. For example, if we read the story of Creation we see themes of God’s origination of the heavens and the earth, the waters, vegetation, animals, and finally man and woman.But looking at the Creation story in light of Acts has an “all nations” flavor to it. It may not be as evident if we only look at with traditional lenses or if we look at the story segregated from Paul’s statements in Acts. But when we lay Acts 17:24-27 on top of the Creation account, all of a sudden we get a picture of God’s missional intention as far back as the beginning of time: His great love for humankind, His desire to be in relationship with humanity and his desire to bless the nations, and the possibility of the nations to draw near to him! He is a missionary God.

The exciting thing is that we see this kind of weaving throughout the whole of the Bible. It changes the way I will read and interpret God’s Word and what He is asking of my personal response. It engages me to take the investment of my life and weave into God’s loving tapestry for the Nations!

Reductionism… first time I heard that word was this week during a Fuller Seminary Intensive Seminar I’m at. What does it all mean?

The analogy of cake baking might shed some light. Imagine if you will, your favorite cake just out of the oven. After cooling it off, you cut a big hunk of it, pick it up and then as you take it to your mouth with great anticipation, it separates into it’s individual ingredients. The result is that what goes into your mouth is not the tasty sum of the parts [the cake] but the individual ingredients such as flour, salt, vanilla, chocolate, eggs, oil, milk. In the end its very anticlimactic. This is reductionism in a nutshell.

This idea of reductionism entered into the human reality during the Enlightenment and found a home in Foundationalism espoused by Descartes – “I think, therefore I am.” The idea is that eventually this concept found its way into the church, and under the influence of foundationalism, theology then found two reductionist platforms by which to build upon: Scripture or Experience. So the natural divide created was that conservative theologians stood on the foundation of Scripture and liberal theologians stood on the foundation of Experience.

Turns out that the emerging generational world view of Post-modernism is seeking something radically different; an integrated reality. But the friction comes from the individual and reductionist love for the parts and not for the integrated whole.

What are we to do? Are we to live separated in reductionist, individualistic foci or are we to reframe the important questions of our lives: What might happen if we stopped asking the question, “How do we save people?” and started asking, “How ought we to live in the Kingdom of God for the sake of the world?” Something to think about, no?