Picking Up The Joysticks

Throughout the Gospel, Jesus does some pretty amazing things. Turning water to wine. Giving sight to the blind. Forgiving sins. Walking on water. From raising the dead to feeding a crowd of 5,000 with a few pieces of bread and some Blue Gills, Jesus performed many miracles in a period of about three years. (Forgive the understatement)

But to me, one of the most amazing things he did was also one of the dirtiest: He washed his friends' feet.

Here's the setting: (John 13: 1-17) Jesus is about to have his last meal. He knows that in just a few short hours, his closest friends are going to betray him (Judas), deny him (Peter) and leave him alone to die an excruitating, painful death (all of them). If I were in a similar situation, I would be a basketcase. What I would NOT do would be to get down on my hands and knees to wash my friends' dirty, nasty, road-weary feet. But that's exactly what Jesus did.

Wow.

I mean, I love my friends, but I really can't imagine doing this. Can you? And we live in a modern world with paved roads and lots of shoe options besides open-toed sandals. In Jesus' day, washing guests' feet was a job for a household servant to carry out when guests arrived. So Jesus - God in flesh, the maker of stars and architect of the universe - wraps a towel around his waist (a symbol of what the lowliest slave would do) and washes his disciples' feet. Amazing.

And this type of selflessness and servantitude is what he expects of us.

Gulp.

I have always struggled with this passage and this concept. Don't get me wrong, I enjoy doing nice things for other people. You know, as long as it fits into my busy schedule. And it isn't too dirty. Or hard. And of course, as long as it doesn't involve washing someone's nasty feet.

Obviously, I have some hang ups in this area. So leave it to God to give me a wakeup call and show me that yes, he expects me to serve others in this way. Even if it's unpleasant. Even if it involves dirty feet. Or worse.

It was at my daughter's last birthday party. My wife and I were preparing for an onslaught of about 15-20 hyped-up 5 year olds to invade our home. (is there any other type of 5 year old?) The only entertainment we had secured was one of those giant inflatable jumpy thingys. Like a trampoline on steroids. I must admit I was looking forward to "testing it out."

I knew we were in trouble when it was 3 hours before the party and the guy we had rented the inflatable from still hadn't called to get our address. 2 hours before the party, I finally reach him and he assures me he'll have the thing set up on time. Oh, but he's "running a little late."

I tell the guy that there can't be a "little late." You ARE the party.

30 minutes before the party is supposed to begin, still no inflatable. My daugther senses our tension and starts getting upset. I can't tell if I'm going to hug the guy or strangle him if he ever shows up. Probably both.

During this time of nervousness and anxiety, is when God taps me on the shoulder with a stunning visual. My dad has taken it upon himself to go out to the back yard where the (still missing) inflatable is supposed to be. To pick up dog poop.

We have a 70 pound dog. This is no small endeavor. Literally.

In our family, we call this chore "Picking Up the Joysticks." Why the phrase "joy" is in there, I will never know. And, as anyone in my family will quickly tell you, I've never actually participated in this ritual. Call me crazy, but when it comes to picking up dog poop or doing, oh, about 16,834 other things, I'll do one of the the 16,834 other things.

But here, in this moment of tension and unease, my loyal, loving father takes it upon himself to grab a bag and some gloves and pick up a yard's worth of dog poop, so the kids won't step in it when they play around the still missing inflatable.

No one asked him to do this. He just did. And as I stood in the window watching him, I swear I saw a smile on his face the entire time.

I felt a peace. I felt God telling me to relax - the inflatable would get there when it got there. I felt blessed to have a beautiful, healthy 5 year old birthday girl. I felt grateful for having a dad who would serve in a way that Jesus would.

Oh, and the guy showed up with the inflatable literally 5 minutes before the party began. My daughter had an amazing birthday party, and we jumped on the thing all day long.

It was a joyous day, in more ways than one.

Velvet Elvis

I love that feeling when you read just the right book at just the right time. When the words somehow jump off the page and sink deep within your soul. When you truly grieve the moment that you turn the last page.

It's only happened to me a few times. When I read Wally Lamb's "I Know This Much Is True." The first (of many) times that I read "The Catcher in the Rye." And it recently happened again with "Velvet Elvis" by Rob Bell.

Two months ago, I had never heard of Rob Bell. Now I think he's probably the most inspiring, talented Christian preacher/teacher/evangelist of our day. Especially for us hipsters from Gen-X who have at some point bought into the myth that if you are a Christian you have to be boring. Wrong!

A 2006 article in the Chicago Sun Times predicts Rob may become the next Billy Graham. I'm not sure about all that. I am sure that he is onto something. Rob graduated from the same seminary school as Graham (Wheaton College) but says he never got good grades in his courses because "he was always more interested in coming up with creative ways to share the Gospel."

And man, is he creative. He used to play in an indie rock band. He looks more like he'd be hanging out at a coffee shop or a Cold War Kids concert than in a pulpit. And maybe that's (part of) what makes him so effective. He does those things. But he also posseses an incredible knowledge of the Bible and the Jewish traditions and world Jesus lived in. Most importantly, he knows how to translate all that into a way that's relevant for us today. His teaching style inspires without being judgemental. Brilliant!

In 1999, he and his wife founded Mars Hill Bible Church in Grandville, Michigan. Today it attracts over 10,000 people per service and is one of the fastest growing churches in American history. Many people also download the weekly Mars Hill Podcasts which feature sermons and messages from Rob and other top notch speakers. I highly recommend you check them out.

I also recommend his work through Nooma.com. Nooma is a series of short films with a contemporary look that explore contemporary Christian issues and perspectives. They are beautifully shot and edited. The music is hip. The messages are powerful and inspire, uplift and really make you think.

In short, they work in ways that all other Christian "educational" videos don't. It's more like watching a Ken Burns documentary than Driver License safety video, if you get my drift. I recently did a 4 week study with my Sunday School class (to date there are 17 different Nooma films, each one is about 5 minutes long). It inspired awesome discussion and we are going to do the rest of the series in the near future.

It was during this study of these Nooma films that I picked up Rob's first book, "Velvet Elvis." In it, he explains his vision of the Christian life. "The challenge," he says "is to live with great passion and conviction, remaining open and flexible, aware that this life is not the last painting." He talks about how he became a preacher (he didn't see it coming) and some real struggles he's faced. It's packed with insights on how a story that's 2,000 years old can make sense in today's TiVo'd world.

It's funny. It's eye-opening. It's inspiring. It's one of the best books I've ever read. I hope you'll read it, too.

(Side note: This fall, Rob Bell is going on a speaking tour, called The Gods Aren't Angry It's described as "part anthropology, part history, part deconstruction - featuring new material that Rob hasn't taught before." I'm going to check it out Novemeber 19 at The Tabernacle in Atlanta. I'll blog about that road trip for sure!)