BEING MISSIONAL
Why are we here? I mean, why is the body of cciph in this building and in Price Hill? But more importantly and personally, I mean, why are you here, and why am I here? Why this neighborhood? Why this planet? Why this time in history? Why the circumstances of your life right now?

There are as many “right” answers as there are people. But I suspect most of us have not found the “right” personal answer. As a collective body, can we agree on one overriding, powerful, consuming mission that gives us all direction and drive and purpose?

I don’t’ suppose there has been a week in the last three years that I have reflected on and wrestled with this question, in various ways. But I still don’t have a snappy, definitive answer, boiled down into a slogan or formula.

We are here to glorify God, and worship is our highest priority. We are here to be light in a dark place, and prayer is our highest priority. We are here to be faithful to the point of death, and teaching is our highest priority. We are here to love one another, and relationships are our highest priority. We are here to rescue people from hell, and evangelism is our highest priority. Which one is most correct? All of the above, and much more?

I’m not sure that the early church had a snappy slogan to rally themselves. They just had Jesus, and He radically changed their lives and gave them purpose and meaning. They didn’t need slogans, logos, programs or teams. Can we accomplish that same single-minded purpose and calling? We must.

NOTHING IS UNCLEAN

In Leviticus 11, God spent much time telling the sons of Aaron what animals are unclean. The clean animals the Israelites were free to eat, but unclean ones are not to be touched (at least by the Levites) or eaten. In fact, an unclean animal that dies on something holy makes the holy thing unclean, at least for a time. Unclean was a powerful concept.

Then comes the passage in Acts 10, when Peter is given a vision. The end of the vision is this statement from God: “Do not call anything unclean that I have made clean.” The immediate context God made clear: Peter may enter the home of Cornelius, and the Gentiles may receive the Gospel. Extended out, God made it clear that they did not have to become circumcised, ever, to be God’s people.

I was thinking, “What is the difference between everything that was formerly unclean being clean now, and everything formerly clean being unclean now?” In other words, everything now is holy, everything is clean, rather than nothing being holy, there being no sacred, nothing being clean.

Because everyone is clean, there is no distinction at all among people—Jews, Gentiles, Arabs, terrorists, people with AIDS, slave owners, outcasts, slaves, the educated, the homeless—all are now clean! That doesn’t mean that all are saved, and it doesn’t mean that there is no such thing as “clean” anymore, in the sense that there is no consecration or dedication to the Lord. But what it means is that anyone can receive the Gospel, and no one is left out.

“LORD, I thank You that while I was unclean, lost in sin and selfishness, You did not regard me to be unclean and unworthy of Your speaking to me. Jesus is the one who went outside the camp, the one who became sin for me, so that I could be washed, I could be purified, I could be cleansed of all guilt. You spoke, and when You spoke, You called me, and when You called me, I answered, I awoke, the chains fell off, and You washed me, You purified me, You made me holy, set apart for You. Hallelujah! Amen!”

A DEEP-SEATED SENSE OF FAILURE

I had a long and uncomfortable dream the other night. In my dream, first I was confronted for failing as a husband and father. Someone else told me that I was a disorganized and uncaring teacher. Then someone else accused me of starting our church without proper reliance on the Lord. And further, that we were not following up to find out why people were leaving. The next day, someone who had visited on a Sunday a few weeks ago said that we should have followed up to invite them back. It felt to me like my dream was continuing, only this time I was awake.

Apparently, I am haunted these days by a deep-seated sense of failure. Coming off of a time of sabbatical, I knew that this semester would be a busy one, but here at the end of it, I find myself losing on every front. I am not home enough, because I'm doing too many things at school. Yet, I am not doing enough at school. And in the midst of running too fast and too long, I hardly do anything with the church. It's not that I'm a slacker, I don't think, but that I am over-committed to too many things at once. And there is no easy end in sight, I'm afraid.

I know where my priorities should lie. I need to be home. But part of my duty as husband and father is to be diligent in providing for the family, and that involves being responsible at work. When I try to be responsible in both areas, I neglect others, like my extended family and my church.

I learned some time ago that a workaholic is not a super-diligent person, as I used to think. To be called a workaholic was almost a compliment to me, like saying I am so responsible and disciplined that I have gone above and beyond the call, and am somehow worthy because of it. No, a workaholic is not a SUPER-diligent person, but a SELECTIVELY-diligent person. I am responsible when I am at school 60 hours a week, but that means I'm not somewhere else during those hours. When I select being diligent as a musician, I select being irresponsible as a homeowner. When I am generous with someone, it means I have nothing for someone else.

And so, I am a failure. A failure in not being more than one place at a time. A failure at not fulfilling all of my implied promises. A failure at saying no at the right time. A failure at not saying yes at the right time. I stop living with a thankful heart and start living with a guilt-ridden heart. Or maybe that's how I got out of balance in the first place.

I think that more than once the apostle Paul reached this point. He felt like a failure, despaired even of life itself, begged the Lord to remove a thorn from his flesh. Yet his answer was that God is made perfect in his weakness. So tonight, like Paul, I will rejoice in my weaknesses, boast of my faults, confess my sins, and live with nothing in my hand. And when I do, strangely I find God, faithfully, gently rebuilding me from the inside out. For when I recognize that I have failed, that is the first step to letting Jesus succeed through me.

"LORD, I have nothing but Jesus. And He is enough. Take my weakness and use it for Your glory. That's all I have, but I sacrifice even that on this altar, in the name of Jesus, the Lamb of God who takes away the sins of the world. Amen."