"Christian Geography" by Terry Sheldon

I've been looking at a lot of maps lately. It's always been an interest of mine. My inner nerd comes out when the topic of exploration comes up in conversation, especially here in our beautiful Oregon playground. Yes I really do know where Wagontire Oregon is. Want to stump the master? Go ahead and try. Really.

My fixation lately has been on the Wallowas - 350,000 acres of glaciated valleys, granite peaks and sublime high lakes in Northeastern Oregon. As you read this, I should be pushing my fifty-something body and a backpack up relentless dusty inclines, and for what? The payoff is incredible, or so Google Images show.

For me, part of the fun is just the imagining, the planning - to a point, of course. Maps are a 2-D counterfeit of a 3-D reality. Good for figuring out where you want to go, or where you are once you're there. But they certainly don't capture the aesthetic romance, the emotion of the evening sun peaking over the ridge before it retires for the day, or the dainty loveliness of Indian Paintbrush.

And technical notes like shown distances and topographic lines cannot capture how hard a trail really is, or how your tired body will respond. Or the mood you'll be in at that moment when you've "hit the wall", exhausted and spent like the wadded up Cliff Bar wrapper in your pocket.

I find the same similarities to the Bible, and our assumptions about things we think we know "on paper", versus the times we actually go there. Something in our life pushes us from "volunteer" to "professional", to being forced to practice what has been preached.

Usually they are changes, or challenges anyway that come up. We are forced onto the path. It's our time to learn, to experience, to PROVE something. We want to go back to the security of "the map", where it feels good to just dream. But instead there's no turning back, and we have a job to do.

I am greatly anticipating my trip. But a small part of me is apprehensive. I am not a young man anymore, and the uncertainty of how I will do is a nagging thought. But I am sure God will be speaking to me along the way. For me, He typically speaks best to me, or rather, I LISTEN best, when I am in motion. Hiking is a metaphor for a number of things, and I'm sure we will have many great conversations.

So let's not just think about God and learn about Him. Let's walk with him. Everyday.

"Who We Are" by Terry Sheldon

There has been a lot to chew on lately but so much of it seems to hinge on behavior - my not-so-stellar. Ok, ahem, partially kidding here. What I am learning is the difference between what we do (behavior) and who we are (our identity). So much of our Christian teaching and overall interactions with others concern how we act. Call them the branches of a tree. But if we stop there and don't address the tree's root, the behavior will unlikely change, or we'll attempt change for the wrong reasons.

What God has been telling me lately is this: WHO I am is more important than WHAT I do. Or better, who I BELIEVE I am will ultimately effect what I do. Now I am certainly not saying our actions don't produce a reliable cause and effect. I am no math expert but in my world: Misbehaving + Denial = Extreme Pain. If only I could come up with a great alternative algorithm.

Back to the root of the matter: our identity. In one of His first serious interactions with Peter, after Peter acknowledged who Jesus is (Christ, Messiah, Son of the Living God), Jesus turned the tables and affirmed Peter's own identity:

"And now I’m going to tell you who you are, really are. You are Peter, a rock. This is the rock on which I will put together my church, a church so expansive with energy that not even the gates of hell will be able to keep it out."

Wow, that's not just a compliment. Notice that Jesus did not mention anything about behavior, given Peter's long history of saying and doing stupid things. He didn't say, "Well Peter, IF you remain in my good graces, we're going to give you a pretty important job with the church." Remember, this is the same poor fella who would later deny Jesus three times when he needed a friend the most.

And of course, the Rock deal wasn't off, as Peter went on to be just that. God knew all along, huh? We should remember this when we short-change ourselves by doubting something God has said about us.

Consider this: If you are frustrated with someone, you want to point out their offensive action. But if you really want to stick it to them, you attack their character - who they are. "You're totally worthless" is a long ways from "I struggle when you act that way towards me". It's behavior vs. identity.

So what about my seemingly endless behavior loops? Here is what God is showing me:

First, if you're the recipient of bad behavior, be forgiving and release your friend in Christ from the loop. Even though we battle people, it's mostly not our fight. Compassion always!

Second, the two R's (sorry, I really can't stop the behavior, ha ha). Respond instead of React. Reacting is a fight or flight mechanism, based in insecurity. But responding is what a loving God does with us. Our God is a relational one, and we are secure in Him. We need to care for our brothers and sisters in the Lord in that same way, with both identities secure.

"Getting to Know God" by Terry Sheldon

I am titling this Getting to Know God with purpose, not just because it fits, but because I want to bounce off the cliché essence of the phrase, in our Christian circles. Yes, we serve a relational God, and in my experience, that's what it's all about.

As my long suffering wife knows, I am not so much a "rule follower" by nature. Not that I don't try to adhere to essential edicts that keep me (and us) safe and smart with what God has given us to steward, but let's just say I tend to be, ahem, "creative" at finding ways to apply them. "Whatever Terry,” I hear Colby saying somewhere behind me.

For me, I have a hard time buying into a rigid religious system. A REALLY hard time. Typically, it has produced cynicism, frustration, loneliness, and a separation from the heart of God. I can honestly say it's only been the last several years that I've finally come to realize, in my heart of hearts, that God truly LOVES me. Not in the biblical "Christian Code of Conduct" sense, but one on one, father to son, friend to friend.

Why did it take me so long to open up to him? I'm not sure. Yes we all have on blinders, at many, many points along our spiritual journeys. But for someone who has grown up on this road of faith, I would have thought I'd arrive here many years ago. Sometimes I am a bit ashamed, quite frankly, that it's taken me so long.

About 6 years ago I found myself trying to enter in during a worship time at CitySalt. I just couldn't. No words, no melody, just quiet tears. This scenario lasted for months. I remembered back to so many instances before that when I viewed worship as kind of emotional fluff. Ya ya, let's move on and get to the real MEAT of the service. Pastor, give me something good here. My attempts at worship seemed forced. The emotional gap between me and God seemed vast, and in retrospect, emotional closeness to God through worship was painful. Thinking holy thoughts about God through theology was easy. We gravitate towards easy, don't we?

A portion of all this (yes too much) was tied to my circumstances, and of course, that whole is-sue is a double-edged sword. I heard that God, as any father would, wanted to bless me in my personal need. But I also knew I didn't want to base my relationship to God on whether or not I achieved some sort of comfort, position, or security. That felt inauthentic, like a distant relative fighting over a deceased patriarch's will. I craved the real thing, a connection to the heart of God, regardless of my circumstances.

Getting to know God is like getting to know your spouse, or anyone in your life you deeply care about. It takes time. It takes effort. But at its core, it's about true connection. We can't know God without really KNOWING him. "Knowledge about" isn't the end game. It's knowledge plus shared acts of kindness plus forgiveness received plus history together and lessons learned. The result = getting to know the REAL God. And getting to know our true selves in the process.

"The Two Me's" by Terry Sheldon

Note: Dusty's message on our work was great, and timely. I've been thinking lately about my two selves. Yes, I split roughly down the middle, it seems. Is it a split personality disorder? Hmmm, I have to channel the "right me" before I answer. You see, I jokingly call them my evil twins - Expectations-Me and Comfortable-Me. I have them both operating full time, but then again so do we all, I am guessing. They fight like cats and dogs, and it's a constant struggle to see who wins out.

Expectations-Me is the tough guy, and is not just born out of a professional work environment and the closest of relationships - family, spouses and our kids. It also comes at us from impersonal sources too - our youth and gender based society and the massive media/mass marketing machine. We want to, need to, HAVE TO please, so we perform. We compare ourselves with others and take our cues from them (and commercials). We put on a happy face, smile, shake hands, and above all else, "don't let 'em see you sweat.”

If someone is upset with us, or if we THINK they are, we shift into overdrive to step up our game. This constant set of lofty expectations and pressure bears down on us like an oncoming freight train. That motivation isn't necessarily a bad thing because it promotes productivity, but it can also produce a sense of disconnect with who we really are. But who we want people to see and who they likely see anyway can be two different things. Most of us get pretty skilled at being inauthentic - hiding the real person inside.

On the other side is E-Me's more genteel version. Comfortable-Me shows up more when the pressure is off. He loves to make gentle conversation, laugh, and float on life's lake in a kayak, basking in the warm day's gentle breeze. Certainly there is that sense of "this is the way every day should be" - little stress and pressure, the freedom of being yourself and producing good works without being constantly analyzed and evaluated.

Now I know what you're thinking. If we could all be retired right now with a healthy pension and a kayak, we could all be happy Comfortable-Me every day. Yep, already there. It doesn't cost anything but time to daydream, but then POW, that pesky train rudely awakens. I remember noticing how much my father changed after he retired. He smiled more, laughed more. But the value of retirement is not my point here.

What I am suggesting is we learn to straddle the two personalities because they both have value. Going through life's meat-grinder while practicing the act of returning to our real source of calm and security - our Lord's quiet presence is the absolute, don't-miss-it KEY to effective living. What emerges is not only grace under fire, patience, and all other fruits of the spirit, but our true identity, that sense of "real me" we crave.

Doing Expectations-Me without abiding in God's presence tends to drive us to excess, make us shallow personalities, alienate our loved ones, and produce a grotesque fear and success-based caricature.

Equally sad, avoiding pressure by only wearing Comfortable-Me can produce a kind of fantasy-based wimp - untouched, unchallenged, a shallow person bereft of deep Godly character. 

Let's all practice abiding! Seeking his face in quiet moments. We have to be proactive and purposeful about this. In our society, it does take practice.

"Salting for Good Taste" by Terry Sheldon

As we are deep into saltiness right now, I wanted to sprinkle on top of what Dusty spoke about - adding flavor to our city. As it was pointed out, light seems to be the more "glamorous" from Jesus's salt and light proclamation. Light is bold, dynamic, and really gets our attention, whether from the exquisite beauty of a sunset creation or the ominous warning of that oncoming train we best take heed of. 

But salt is, well, just SALT. It's like blue-collar’s younger brother, not flashy but quietly essential, and content with toiling in the background. As Dusty spoke, I was struck with how being salty in this city seemed to be a "good fit" for us Christians. What do I mean by this? Read on. 

Salt is a noun. Jesus didn't begin by saying "go sprinkle people with salt". He said we ARE salt. Yes the implication is that salt will be useful and used, as are we in the cities and situations of our daily lives, but he started the conversation by speaking to our identity - by naming us. Rubbing shoulders with Eugene, we will by default sprinkle on people. It's up to us to learn the nuances - to cooperate with the Holy Spirit and follow his lead with when, where, and how much salt our situations need. 

In cooking, salt contributes to taste, but it is not THE taste. If you taste the salt, you've used too much. Here are the ways not to use salt: First, it would be foolish to salt most food in the very beginning. You need to wait until the elements and flavors come together under heat, and start to meld. The spiritual implication is this - you can't influence someone for the gospel without first being in relationship with them. 

Secondly, you don't salt at the end because the crystals will just sit on top of the food. You'll taste its salty harshness, plus you've missed the opportunity to allow the salt to do what it does best - become an agent of change that brings together and enhances the diverse flavors of the raw foods. Salt dynamically changes things, and along with the heat, causes the ingredients to - together - become more than the sum of their parts. The implications? We don't drop in, dump on people, then expect change. Cooking takes an investment of time. It's a process. 

So how do you salt? Usually, it's as you are most the way through the heating process, after the ingredients have melded together. You salt a little, and taste. Salt a little more, and taste. Just like Goldylocks, not too little, not too much - JUST RIGHT. Perfect salting takes great care - and LOVE. 

All of this seemed like a good fit to me because all too often when we think of evangelizing our world, we think of being pushy and loud, debating politics, and winning arguments. For most of us, that's not comfortable, and I'm not at all convinced we should be behaving that way even if our personality allows it. But I think any of us can just be salt, under the loving care of our Supreme Chef. We are to sip with people at our round tables and quietly do our job, adding his good flavor to the food our city desperately needs.

"All Things New" by Terry Sheldon

I know some of us don't like change, but there is one type that I think everyone can agree is good - change for the better. There is a spiritual, mental and psychological health available to us all as we allow the Lord to occupy new areas in our battle-weary temples. But sometimes - no, frequently - it seems like one step forward, two steps back, when the most common phrase from the Lord seems to be "Ok, let's try that again". Will I ever change? Glory to glory seems to be an infinite distance to travel. 

According to science, you and I are brand new every 5 years - in terms of our cells, that is. At that basic core level our bodies, in a constant flux of jettisoning old and dividing anew, purges and begins again. So if true, why can't I get out of bed in the morning without feeling like I'd spent the night being drug behind a truck? Surely after my 20,440 or so nights on this earth, prying myself up from the sheets should be old hat, right? 

But all too often, my spirit feels the same as my 6:30 am body - sore and lifeless, and the bad habits I've been working on all these years don't go away just because I sing soulful songs at SouthHills. Why is that? The Apostle Paul said as much in Romans 7 in his classic description of the epic struggle of spirit vs. flesh. His lament: "I do what I don't want to do, and I don't do as I should.” Sound familiar? 

I am no psychologist, but it seems to be an issue of both our willingness and our readiness for change. At first glance these brothers seem like twins, but although similar, they are not the same. They work in tandem and must come together at the same time. Sometimes I am willing to change, but not ready. Other times the reverse is true. I think I am ready - tired of the pain, but not willing to do what it takes to step away. 

It's been said that there is a certain safety in our emotional pain. I think we settle for less because it's common, easy, and known. But the good hard work of spiritual change is the opposite - uncommon, hard, and risky (what if I fail?). Like getting out of a warm and cozy bed, it takes work, but it also takes a readiness. I think our Lord understands this. I hear him whispering "Are you ready now?" and "Are you willing to put in the work?"