The Most Dangerous Idol of the Next Generation

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I’m a Millennial, born sometime between 1980 and Y2K (the day when all the computers and the universe imploded), and my generation has a lot going for them.

Some call us the “Hopeful Generation” because few generations to ever walk the planet were more mission-minded and cause-oriented. I have friends who use vacation-time to serve in third-world countries, who won’t buy coffee from anywhere but direct-trade vendors, who run fundraiser 5Ks every weekend. I even have friends who’ve shaved their heads and cut their beautiful beards because they saw on Facebook a friend of a friend raising money for another friend with cancer (and that’s a big deal, because nothing gives you instant authority in life like a great beard or stache).

Some call us the “Relational Generation” because there’s never been one more connected. Sure, some people (including me) hate on the false-intimacy that social-media provides. Sure, some people need to be given read-only accounts to Twitter and Facebook based on the sheer number of selfies and “look-at-me” posts they publish hourly. But that doesn’t change the fact I communicate with loved ones across the country daily on my iPhone through e-mail, text, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, Skype, and Facetime (sometimes I even use my phone to make calls too!).

Some call us the “Educated Generation,” as already our rate of receiving undergraduate degrees has surpassed all other generations. My generation thinks college degrees are sweet and a prerequisite to life-advancement. So even if we spend our college days doing everything but college work, we still think it’s important. That’s why we’re there on the 6-year plan.

Are you swooning yet? Because you had yearbooks. We have Facebook! You had K-Mart. We have Target (boom!). You had hula-hoops. We have X-Box. You had mass-media. We have personal media, a social platform where we can talk about how awesome we are (on our blog). And let’s not let the one word that shuts the whole “best generation” conversation down go unmentioned… Netflix. Need I say more? …Pandora! Oops, that slipped out.

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“God in a Bod” – Three Steps to Do Christmas Right

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On the first Christmas, God showed up and loved out. And it was that simple, ever since the world hasn’t been the same.

*** JESUS’ INCARNATION ***

In smart-Christian circles, they call this incarnation (in my circles we call it “God in a bod“). It’s a word that gets floated around during Christmas as we reflect on the Word becoming flesh. And during this season of my life, it’s a reality that’s having a most profound impact on me.

In as practical terms as possible, incarnation means this…

I step completely into your mess, no matter how messy it is.
I offer myself, at the expense of myself, for the sake of you.
I choose to be fully present in situations I want nothing to do with.

All because I love you.

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Confessions of a New Christian: Do I really have to love her?

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Updated: 8:50AM, 11/4/13

A few weeks ago, in a small-group I lead for non-Christians interested in Jesus, I heard one of the more terrifying stories I’ve heard since starting ministry (for the sake of privacy, details have been altered). It was a story of an older gentleman, a wonderful older gentleman named Theo.

Theo wasn’t a Christian (until recently). He knew of Jesus but, self-admittedly, he didn’t “follow” Jesus. Nonetheless, he had lived a full life, raised great kids, with healthy grandkids, and had been married to the same woman for twenty-five years.

From the first day I met Theo, I liked him. He had this soft smile that lit up the room, and a dignified manner that made me think he was secretly British royalty. He dressed nice, talked nice, and always had thoughtful questions for the group. Everyone in the group loved Theo, and that’s because they sensed Theo genuinely loved everyone in the group.

Then a few weeks back Theo shared his horror story. About six months ago, his wife of twenty-five years left him. Theo said she decided, “She doesn’t love me anymore.” For the seventh time, Theo caught her having an affair, and despite his best efforts to reconcile the relationship… again… she left him. Kicking and screaming the entire way. Blaming Theo for her years of infidelity. Leaving him standing there cold and alone.

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i wish there was more cross-shaped stuff

I wish there was more cross-shaped stuff.

Not like this.

But more cross-shaped men and women.  Cross-shaped sons and daughters.  Cross-shaped churches.  Cross-shaped preachers.  Cross-shaped teachers. Cross-shaped policies. Cross-shaped books. Cross-shaped movies.  Cross-shaped families.  Cross-shaped smiles.  Cross-shaped tears.  Cross-shaped wallets.  Cross-shaped iPhones.  Continue reading