Scripture Plaques You Won't Find at the Christian Bookstore, #1

September 2, 2010 Daniel Harris

[This post is the first of a series of potential Christian plaques that we would never find at a Christian bookstore. See the other posts listed at the bottom of this one.]

For some time, I've entertained myself with thoughts of making a collection of verses from the scripture that are legitimately in the Bible, but nonetheless would never be engraved on a plaque for sale in a Christian bookstore.

And I begin with a classic:

My complete list (so far) of Christian plaques we'll never find at a Christian bookstore:

Pecan Orchards and Holiness

August 31, 2010 Daniel Harris

[This is one of the posts telling a story from the life of my Dad. Click here to see the others.]

My Dad has poured the majority of his adult life's work into his pecan orchard. It's a great place. 53 acres of land and about 2,600 trees in an area where we don't see much water or enjoy many trees is remarkable. More remarkable, though, is how peaceful it is there. It isn't very often in the kind of lives most of us lead that we get to be somewhere where it's quiet enough that we cannot hear the sound of any car, machine, or other person, but it's like that in the orchard. Often the only sound you'll hear is the breeze blowing in the trees. We had some friends in the orchard with us on Saturday, and we all noticed the lack of the sounds we were accustomed to and the presence of more natural ones. One of them said the breeze sounded like God was breathing on us. I'd never thought of it like that, but it's certainly a place where I've been aware of God's presence, so his description fits.

As we were there last weekend, I thought about how similar that orchard is to our lives in God, particularly in understanding God's role and our roles in our growth. There are plenty of things in nature that God has accomplished on his own, but that orchard isn't one of them; my Dad has put nearly 40 years of constant work into it. It would not have just popped up without him. Yet regardless of how much effort he put in, neither could my Dad make those trees grow. All that he has ever been able to do is to put into place the conditions in which growth will occur naturally. The planting, watering, pruning, and harvesting have all required his effort, but all of them together cannot produce a single pecan tree. My Dad has put in plenty of effort throughout the process, doing his part, in order to give nature the opportunity to do hers.

In her book, Sacred Rhythms, Ruth Haley Barton describes the same characteristic of the spiritual life: “In the end, this is the most hopeful thing any of us can say about spiritual transformation: I cannot transform myself, or anyone else for that matter. What I can do is create the conditions in which spiritual transformation can take place, by developing and maintaining a rhythm of spiritual practices that keep me open and available to God.”

That is what we do as Christians, "create the conditions... that keep us open and available to God." In fact, it is all that we do. It can, and will, take a lifetime of effort on our part, yet in what seems like a paradox, it requires much effort and yet we are utterly powerless to make ourselves grow in any measure. We cannot force any more love, joy, or peace into our lives. Thankfully, though, just as there are natural processes in place in nature that have allowed 53 acres of pecan trees to grow in this "dry and thirsty land," God's grace is dependably available to work in us when we arrange our lives accordingly. We have to put in effort throughout the process, doing our part, in order to give God the opportunity to do his.

"...work out your own salvation with fear and trembling, for it is God who is at work in you..." (Philippians 2:12-13)

A Parable of Churchville

August 27, 2010 Daniel Harris

[This is one of a series of posts related to the REVEAL Spiritual Life Survey. To see the others, click here.] Welcome to Churchville, Population 10. (Generally very good and likeable people.)

An exciting opportunity has come to Churchville, as electricity has become available to the residents.

Time passes, and a very interesting thing happens. Half of the residents of Churchville take advantage of the availability of electricity by bringing it into their homes. One of these comes to believe so strongly in the benefits of electricity that he (upper left) is willing to give anything for the sake of electricity and deeply desires for all of his neighbors to come to experience it as he has. The four others who have connected to electricity are also enthusiastic about it. It has dramatically changed how they live their everyday lives. This "connected" half of Churchville's population all exhibit a love of electricity and a high degree of hospitality toward and concern for their neighbors.

But half of our residents of Churchville have never chosen to connect their homes to the available electric current, and they have varying reasons. One of them simply isn't convinced that electricity exists. He says that his neighbors who claim to have electricity in their homes are just fooling themselves with wishful thinking. Yet, even though he thinks these five neighbors of his are living under a delusion, he remains in Churchville rather than leaving, because it's a good place to be.

The other four of our non-electric residents are a bit more of a puzzle. They believe in electricity, but for whatever reason still have yet to make the appropriate arrangements for it to come into their home. The most notable thing, though, was three of these four seem to be unaware that they are living without electricity! They talk and often act as if they have it in their homes, even to the point of occasionally buying an appliance or sending the electric company money for the bill they think they owe. (One of them even volunteers to serve on the board of the electric company.) Yet these three continue to go on with their electricity-less lives, with no realization that they could be living any differently.

Only one of the non-electric residents notices the gap between how she is living and what her life would be like with electricity. One of the "connected" neighbors gave her a light bulb, and she really wants more light in her house. Neighbors and electric company workers are confident that she will make the necessary arrangements and become connected soon.

So what's the point of the parable? I am a big fan of the REVEAL Spiritual Life Survey for churches. It seeks to give church leaders a measurable way of looking at how effectively they help people grow. Our church participated almost two years ago, and will take our second survey this fall to see how we have improved.

Our results indicate that somewhere close to 1/2 of our people have yet to significantly arrange their lives in ways that would make growth in their love for God and others natural. Also, of these, only about 1 in 5 recognize that things should be different.

Of all of the things that are presented to church leaders as worthy of our time and energy, nothing is more essential than this: modeling and communicating how profoundly good it is to live our lives fully in the kingdom of God, so that any others who desire to do so will know how, and that others will have a more accurate understanding of what it is they're being invited to in the Christian life.

"Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news: 'It's time. The kingdom of God is now available. Change your mind and direction and believe the good news." (Mark 1:15, paraphrase)

Congratulations, Elmer!/¡Felicitaciones Elmer!

August 24, 2010 Daniel Harris

Among the friends I am privileged to have in Guatemala is a man I particularly enjoyed spending time with while we lived there, Elmer. Elmer is on staff at New Life Children's Home, where we were very thankful to have the opportunity to serve for two years. His job description there is hard to define: he is one of the workers who can drive, so he spends a lot of time fighting traffic in Guatemala City running errands for the home and also helps with maintenance and construction projects. More than those things, though, he is a mentor to many of the boys who live at NLCH.

Elmer and I got along well because I'm not sure which of the two of us is more laid back. (I might have thought we were related if he weren't a foot and a half shorter than me.) I enjoyed life at the Guatemalan pace, and (other than the speed at which he drives) he exemplifies it. I remember riding with him on some errands in the city one day, when in the small Ford Ranger-type pickup he was driving, we drove over a huge, deep pothole (more like a sinkhole) in the middle of the street. Because of the traffic, we couldn't see it until it was right in front of us, and our truck had to have just barely been wide enough to clear it. My eyes got huge, and I looked at Elmer, who had no reaction whatsoever. Didn't say a word. After my heart resumed beating, I asked, "Did you see that?!?" In his normal voice, without ever looking back at the street or at me, he said, "Sí... Muy peligroso/Yep... Pretty Dangerous."

Elmer and his family live in similar conditions to many Guatemalans. I don't know what his salary is, but an average Guatemalan lives on something around $2/day. Yet he's very content. He told me "Sometimes guys try to tell me that I should go work with them, doing this or that and make more money. But I have what I need. My family has a place to live and my kids are fed. Everything else is in God's hands."

As Elmer and I got to know each other, I discovered a love for learning in him, which furthered our friendship. As a boy, he attended school through the third grade, then his father told him, "now that you can read and do math, it's time to go to work," and his schooling was over. As the older boys at NLCH would occasionally complain about having to go to school and complete their studies, Elmer was always quick to remind them how privileged they were to have the opportunity, and would talk to them about the possibilities that education could open for them.

He particularly wanted to study the Bible. Not long before we moved back from Guatemala, I learned that he was one of the leaders in his church. He told me that he had heard of courses being offered for those who wanted to become ministers and he really wanted to participate but hadn't been able to yet.

This past June, we returned to visit NLCH for the first time in the two years since we left. I was thrilled to find out that Elmer's church had been offering ministry classes and that he'd been able to participate. He invited us over for dinner one evening, and we had a great time with his family. His boys were all dressed up for our visit (see photo below) and his wife had a good meal of taquitos, fried plantains and coffee ready for us. Elmer proudly showed me his study materials. It was obvious he had been working hard, because the courses were pretty in-depth: New Testament, Old Testament, Church History, and some good material on ministry skills. One section of his material dealt with "success in ministry," and we had a good conversation about that. I told him I'd recently read an article by Dallas Willard with the best definition I'd heard: success for a pastor is having a vital relationship with God and the capacity to pass it on to others. That's important (and difficult) for any pastor to hang on to, regardless of which culture we're in.

Elmer's graduation from his ministry courses was Sunday, August 22. I wish I could have been there to see it, but look forward to celebrating with him the next time we visit.

Elmer, yo quería traducir esto en español también, pero ya es tarde y mi cabeza no me sirve. Te lo prometo que todo lo que dice es amable, ¡y no tenía que mentir! Que sepas que celebramos contigo. Que los estudios que has cumplido te sirven para seguir ayudando a otros conocer mejor al Señor, igual como me has ayudado a mí. Que nosotros dos siempre recuerdan que el éxito para un pastor es tener una relación viviente con Dios y la capacidad de pasarla a los demás, y también recordar que nuestros ministerios primarios siempre son nuestras esposas e hijos. Cualquiera cosa más de esto no es central. Hasta que nos vemos, mi hermano, que la gracia y paz de Jesucristo sean tuyos en abundancia.

Completely Unhelpful Things to Say to Someone in Grief, Part 1

August 22, 2010 Daniel Harris

[This is the first of a series of posts on completely unhelpful things to say to someone in grief. See the others at the bottom of this page.] Since learning of my Dad's cancer, we have had some very well-meaning people say utterly unhelpful things to us in an attempt to console us, or encourage us, or... something. In no means do I intend to be hard on these people. In ministry, I've been with people in life's worst moments and the search for something to say is inevitably difficult. Rather than being resentful of their comments, or intending to be critical, I've started keeping a list for two purposes: the humor of it, and so that I and others can learn more helpful ways of being with someone who's going through a bad time.

Third Place: "I have a cousin who several times in the [same body part as your loved one] has had to have a [different procedure than your loved one], and is doing just fine." Well, good for them. This is more rare and just as unhelpful as closely related comments, which consist of people's tendency to describe the worst thing they have ever heard of happening to someone in a similar situation to what you're describing. When we were preparing to move to Guatemala, we would often hear something like, "My brother-in-law's cousin went there in 1962 and got gangrene and he had to have several amputations." Or with medical issues, "Wow, you'd better get a second opinion, because a guy at work had that and he was gone a week later."

People do say these things out of genuine concern, either to point out something that may be a danger we haven't thought about or to try to assure us that things may turn out better than we're expecting. At least in the comment above, the person is trying to be positive. I really was glad to hear that their cousin was doing fine, but it was not relevant to my situation, and didn't serve to encourage me like they'd hoped. Whether it's the positive or negative form of the comment, whatever happened to the person that you've heard of (whether they got better or came to a horrific end), they are not the same person, nor facing the same situation, and therefore probably will not have the same outcome as the person I'm talking about.

Second Place: "Sometimes you just have to have a good attitude about these things." I'm not sure how to have a good attitude about losing someone that I love, but thanks for the suggestion. If I give the benefit of the doubt here, I'll say that the intent was to point out how much the way we choose to look at a situation impacts us. For example, it's my choice whether I will only think about the sad parts of losing my Dad or whether I will think about how grateful I am for his life and example and continue looking for ways to treasure the time we have left together. I've had to learn to pay attention to how much the way that I approach this situation mentally makes a difference.

I guess that may be what they meant, but it came across as if the person was telling me, "Buck up and get over it. Everybody goes through stuff." Not helpful.

First Place: "I know what it's like. I've sat in your seat twice. Actually three times." The biggest lesson I've learned in dealing with people through this is our tendency to try to communicate to someone else that we know what they're going through, but how that is never true. Although you may have lost someone, even in a similar way, you have never lost the person I am losing just like I never lost the person you did. None of us have really ever sat in another person's seat, walked in their shoes, etc. Even within a family, everyone has their own relationships with everyone else. My brothers' relationships with my Dad are similar to mine, but not the same. We all have different memories, experiences, etc., so none of us are in one another's seats.

I certainly can't condemn any of these comments, because I haven't done any better in trying to console people. Especially with this grand-prize winner, because I know that I have said to people at times, "I know what it's like to go through that." We want very much to assure people that they aren't alone and that there is life on the other side of awful situations, but the reason that I, or anyone, is in grief, is because the person we're losing is like no one else. Our relationship with them cannot be replaced, and so the well-intended comparison to someone else's situation just isn't the same thing.

Not all of the comments we've received have been unhelpful. The things that actually give comfort are simple and go something like this: "That stinks, Daniel." I realize that another person cannot fix the situation, and I don't expect them to do so. What I most need is for others to acknowledge that the situation is hard and sad, that I won't always be able to function as if it isn't happening, and that even though it can't hurt them in the same way it hurts me, they recognize that it stinks. These kinds of comments, along with people just continuing to be present, check in with us, and continue being our friends as they always have been are what helps, and I hope to learn from them. Other ways that people have done this are:

My pastor saying that he has never experienced such a profound loss as when his father died. That wasn't putting himself in my place; rather, he just recognized how hard it is.
My old basketball coach still calling to check in on me 15 years after I played for him. He doesn't have any answers- he just genuinely wants to see how we're doing, and after I give him an update, he gives me someone to talk about sports with.
People who have known my Dad for a long time coming to see him, tell old stories, and by their presence let us all know how much he means to them.

See these other posts on completely unhelpful things to say to someone in grief:

The Best Thing I do in Ministry

August 20, 2010 Daniel Harris

Being in ministry in a situation like mine requires doing a wide variety of things (often with opportunities to dabble in new areas of my incompetence), but among the things that I do, there is one that stands out to me above the rest as

being the most enjoyable,
helping me become more the kind of person I want to be,
making the biggest difference in others' lives,
developing good and needed personal friendships with others,
and responding the best way that I can to the invitation from God that I've sensed for a long time to help others mature in their love for God and for others.

I remember writing in my journal years ago that I wanted to shape my life around two simple things: being a disciple of Jesus, and helping others to do so. This opportunity in ministry has helped me to do both of those things more effectively than anything else in the decade that I've been doing this kind of thing full-time, and it's nothing unique to me or my situation. Whether you're in ministry or not, you can easily be involved in the same thing I'm talking about: being part of a group of people going through The Apprentice Series by James Bryan Smith.

Because of the nature of the roles that I have had in ministry, I usually stay pretty familiar with a good deal of the curriculum available to churches. There is a multitude of good stuff out there, but I have never used or seen anything else like Apprentice. It is the only material I am aware of that does such an effective job at helping us to think about God in a way that is consistent with the scriptures, arrange our lives in a way that gives God room to work in us, and connect with others in the relationships that we must have for Jesus' kind of life to keep growing in us. Or, as one of my heroes, Dallas Willard, describes it, it is "the best practice of Christian spiritual formation that [he has] seen."

Apprentice isn't exactly a book study, but it is based around three books, all by James Bryan Smith: The Good and Beautiful God, The Good and Beautiful Life, and The Good and Beautiful Community. A leaders' guide and other very helpful resources are available for free at www.apprenticeofjesus.org.

We've greatly enjoyed going through the first two books with a group of friends at our church, and will begin the third book in a couple of weeks. One of the things we have enjoyed most is the mix of people in our group: from people who were very new to church and Christianity to others who have probably averaged being in church 3.5 times per week for their entire lives. It has made a difference for all of us. We love the relationships with one another, and those friendships have been an important part of how Apprentice teaches us overall to shape our lives in a way that we are Jesus' apprentices in how to live life in the kingdom of God.

I remember a specific time as a teenager, after I had committed my life to Christ. I wanted to learn to live my life as God wanted me to, but was having trouble figuring out how to do so. I was in church, I prayed and read my Bible, but I still wanted to know, "what's my life supposed to be like from now on?" I went to a Christian bookstore, hoping to find something with a title like, How to Live as a Christian, but I didn't have any such luck. That was almost 20 years ago, and I have kept looking hard for that answer, with some very good help along the way. If that is a question you have in your life now, the Apprentice series is the first place that I would point you. Find out if anyone in your church is going through this, and if not, get a group of friends together (who can be very committed to it) and start.

If you're someone who goes to First Methodist of Midland with us (or if you're anyone else locally), and this sounds interesting, there will be two chances to jump in during the coming months: one group will start in September on Wednesday nights, and another will start in January on Tuesday nights. Email me for more details.

There's a Better Solution than Telling Your Kids You Love Them

August 19, 2010 Daniel Harris

[This is one of my posts about the life of my Dad. Please see a list of the others at the bottom of this page.]

My Dad is dying of cancer. We found out a couple of months ago, and it has been very, very hard. It is hard to think of the future without him, and it's hard to see how he has already been affected by the disease. After we first found out, I felt like I was in a fog a couldn't find my way out. I still feel like I don't know how to deal with it very well, but the fog began to lift a bit when my wife helped me to realize something: the reason I have so much to mourn in all of this is because I HAVE A GREAT DAD.

After we learned the diagnosis, my wife and I seemed to take turns on which one of us was emotional on a particular day and which one was more stable. I've certainly had the majority of the emotional days, but during one of the times that our roles switched, she was able to name her own feelings in a way that also summed up much of why I have loved him so deeply for all of these years. She said, "I have just always felt loved by him. I've never had to be any certain way, or do anything, but I've known that he loves me."

It's a perfect description. As I was growing up, if there was something that I could do well, he enjoyed it, and I knew that he loved me. If there was something that I stunk at, I knew that he loved me. Simply by the way that he has lived his life, particularly in his constant willingness to always sacrifice of himself first for the benefit of the rest of us, I have always known his love for me.

I wish that I would hear a parenting expert, especially in addressing fathers, encourage parents to live their lives that way. Okay, surely there are some who do. Yet we hear so often about the importance of parents telling their kids that they love them. That's fine, but it doesn't cut it. A better solution is my Dad's way: Parents, live your everyday lives in a way that your kids know, in the deepest parts of who they are, that you love them. Regardless of what happens, they know that you will love them. When they succeed, they know, and when they are dismal failures, they know, "I am loved."

This has very little to do with words. On the negative side, our words can do serious damage to any efforts to convey this to our kids, but on the positive side they are inadequate to ingrain it deeply enough in our children's souls. The best that they can do is to reinforce the message that we send with our lives.

I don't think that I've ever heard my Dad say a word about how to be a successful father, but I know. Because I have one.

More Posts About My Dad: