the drum|rob fairbanks

I know who you are

My mom has had cancer for almost five years.  She prays that she will live to see her three daughters get married.  Last summer, the first one of us daughters had her wedding in our front yard.  My mom wept: It was like God was giving back, gift-wrapped, her deepest desire that she had surrendered fully to Him.

 

One of our friends who had been battling brain cancer died last week, leaving her two sons without a parent.  One of her sons has Asperger’s syndrome and will need to live with and be cared for by her other son.  She told me once her prayer to see her first grandbaby…God didn’t grant her request.

I don’t know why God hasn’t healed my mom from cancer, and I certainly don’t understand why He would take this mother away from her young sons, never realizing her dream of seeing a grandbaby

Yet “sometimes the only way to understand is fall on your knees and say you don’t…Because God knows sometimes there is suffering beyond our knowing.

When we want to know answers, God simply wants us to know Him.

The answer to our suffering is so incomprehensible that it has to be incarnated — the Word must come to us as flesh…He came – because in all our pain, we don’t want some answers like we want a Someone”

                ~Ann Voscamp.

J.J. Heller echoes this belief in her song lyrics: “I don’t know what you’re doing, but I know who you are.”

Yet again, we hear the reverberations of this faith in the powerful words of Oswald Chambers: "Faith is deliberate confidence in the character of God whose ways you may not understand at the time.”

This I know with all my heart: The character of God is trustworthy and steadfast.

                And I know He knows our pain: He loved enough to lose a child so we could live.

“Since the children have flesh and blood,
[I] too shared in their humanity –

so that by [my] death, [I] might break the power of him who holds the power of death—
that is, the devil—

and free those who all their lives were held in slavery by their fear of death.”

~Hebrews 2:14-15 

“There is no pit so deep, that God’s love is not deeper still.” ~ Corrie Ten Boom

Jessica

Thankful

Today as I sit in my house in Portland, sipping coffee, and listening to the sweet sound of rain fall on the ground outside, I am thrust into waves of peace. I am reflecting on a month of learning, laughter, increased friendship, sorrow, and deep joy. The past three weeks I got to spend listening to amazing classmates (who I now consider friends) discuss and grow in what it means to be the church. I again learned that there is no perfect church, mostly because there is no perfect person. And in my most vulnerable moments, I have to remind myself that the church is people. Beautiful, broken, alive, and challenging people. 

We read the Gospel and understand maybe a tenth of what Jesus was trying to teach and model to us. Reading through Mark 10 and 11 a few minutes ago, I am in awe of how little I seek the Kingdom of God and instead seek the opinion of the world. How often do I stop and listen? How little do I remind myself that joy is a gift and a choice? How terrible am I at thinking of myself as a little child, hopeful that God redeems and saves? How often do I care more for my possessions than I do for my present relationship with God? 

All of these questions I examined this past term and found that there is no greater answer than the person of Christ. And for me, that begins by being thankful and being disciplined enough to listen wholeheartedly to God. So today, I don’t have any huge theological answers to how the church should function better, serve God more, or be wholly united. But I am able to live into the posture of being thankful. Thankful for a class who tested me, encouraged me, and put up with me. Thankful for a Creator who is infinitely more able and loving than I. 

Thankful.

Katherine

Move It! ‘Cause you really ‘ought to

    There is something heartfelt and immediately piercing about praising God with
movement. There is a part of ourselves, our physicality, that we have neglected in our
worship. And because of it we have lost touch with our emotional souls; our movement
and our emotions are intricately linked. It is hard to lie and keep the world out when you
are engaged in authentic movement. I have found that some of my most honest and
vulnerable moments have been when I have used movement as a form of worship.
    Our bodies, our movements, I think, are that last piece in our worship; the piece
that connects it all together. I cannot express how freeing it is to use dance and
movement to pray and worship God, and at the same time, I cannot express how hard it
was to get to that place. It is not natural for us to be open and vulnerable with each
other. It is not natural to be uninhibited in our emotion and movement. So we have
learned to worship unnaturally: keeping everything inside locked up tight. But I don’t
think God wants us to worship only with our voices; I think we glorify Him most when we
are authentic and honest with each other. And I think that we could do that better if we
all learned to move a little more; to dance a little more. David danced, after all, as did
Jesus. So why can’t we?

Zach

missional life?

Sample dialogue for any conversation ever right now
Well-meaning person: well now, and what are you going to do after graduation? 
Me: *turns into a monster taco and eats them*
Okay, actually I mumble something about looking mainly for internships and a few jobs, mostly in churches. But inside that panic attack is kicking into high gear. I’m not making assumptions for the rest of the senior class, but I have no clue where I’m going to be after graduation. What I’m going to be doing. Where I’ll be living. 
Hello, terror. 
Worst of all is that feeling that I won’t end up in the right place, that I’ll suddenly discover I hate what I’m doing and now I’m stuck with it. for me, that confusion is compounded, because I’m about to switch to only a music ministry track and what if I suddenly decide music ministry is just not for me? or I’m really bad at it? I can barely stumble through the prayers of the church on Sundays, and I want to lead services? 
Okay, step back for a second, Anna’s just writing a post about general graduation freakout, we’re in a class called missional church, how do these connect? 
Well, they sort of do in my mind. When I track my terror to its source, it’s that I’m not sure I’m going to end up in the right place. And oh, God’s not going to guide me to the right place? God has no plans whatsoever? great. Once again, my anxiety is really just me pushing God away. No big deal, I got this, I’ll panic about it on my own thanks very much. 
Wherever I end up in four months, God’s going to have work for me to do there. And this is the big takeaway for me from this whole class: I’m on mission for God wherever I am. Whether I’m living in my parents’ basement or working at a megachurch (or both), I’m living out God’s mission. And as long as I spend a lot of time prayerfully asking for guidance, I can’t go too far wrong. 
Can I?

Anna

The Church: A Banquet for Your Friends or a Refuge for the Poor?

Then Jesus said to his host, “When you give a luncheon or dinner, do not invite your friends, your brothers or sisters, your relatives, or your rich neighbors; if you do, they may invite you back and so you will be repaid. But when you give a banquet, invite the poor, the crippled, the lame, the blind, and you will be blessed. Although they cannot repay you, you will be repaid at the resurrection of the righteous.” (Luke 14:12-14)

             The great eighteenth-century hymn writer and ex-slave trader John Newton marveled at the far-reaching impact of these words spoken by Jesus in Luke. “One would almost think this passage was not considered part of God’s word, nor has any part of Jesus’ teaching been more neglected by his own people. I do not think it is unlawful to entertain our friends” he says, “but if these words do not teach us that it is in some respects out duty to give preference to the poor, I am at a loss to understand them.” Looking at the current state of the American church, one can’t help but wonder if the “luncheon or dinner” Jesus was referring to could be what we call our church service today. We spend so much time catering our churches to our friends, brothers, sisters, relatives and neighbors, that we completely disregard those Jesus is calling to invite join us in our “banquet.”

            It’s not that Jesus commands us, his Church, to disregard those who we consider being friends, peers or of high economic status, for Jesus himself often ate with his peers and people of wealth. However, his mission was still for the poor. Jesus commanded that his disciples should share their homes and build relationships not with people of their class or higher, people they could profit from or that would pay them back, but with people who were poor and without influence. I believe he is calling his church to do the same; to be for the poor, with the poor, and in pursuit of the poor.

            Although I am unaware of any churches that actively turn the poor away, I am also unaware of many that actively seek out those in extreme poverty as being a part of their community. Most church facilities and services seem to be catered more to the middle-class who drive in from their different neighborhoods to come together with like-minded, similar looking people of their social class for once, maybe twice a week, fellowship and teaching. Although I’m sure many of these churches do really wonderful things to help the underserved and poor, it’s not as easy to make the case that they are designed “for the poor.” The Bible speaks of God as being “a refuge for the poor” (Isaiah 25:4; Psalm 14:6). Therefore the Church, as the body of Christ, is called to stand with the poor as a physical and spiritual place of refuge for them in this world. Is your church a banquet for your friends or a refuge for the poor?

Melissa

Food and Family

    I walked in the front door of my church at 9:55 and headed to a college bible study class. We pored over Romans 6, prayed together, and dreamed about how to serve our church body and the surrounding community. Then, at 11 we wrapped up and joined the congregation in the sanctuary for worship and the sermon. We sang, heard the message, and prayed together, and if the church part of my day had ended here, I wouldn’t have been disappointed in any way. I had learned, praised, and fellowshipped with my church family and now I would head back out into the world renewed by some time with God.

BUT WAIT! DID SOMEONE SAY IT WAS POTLUCK SUNDAY?!?!

    Heck yes! We all headed for the food and sat in the church basement as delicious scents wafted by. I sat at the table with older couples, young families with toddlers, teenagers, and widowed grandmothers around me, and we ate homemade lasagna, meatballs, salad, and cookies, laughing and talking about whatever we wanted. I heard stories about war, about shoveling the snow, about grandchildren and children, and I told about my family, my home, and my hopes. And as I sat there I realized that it was in this context that I truly interacted with this new family of mine. Yes, we had all listened to the sermon together and spent this Sunday and others sitting in adjacent pews exchanging hugs and handshakes, but here we could love each other in a tangible way over a good meal.

    As I left, an older woman I had been talking with walked out with me. She had told me about her husband who had recently died, her daughter who owned a bakery, and her beautiful granddaughter, and as we pushed past the door she turned to me. “I’m going to be your grandmother here in Spokane, Katie,” she said as she hugged me. We said goodbye and all I could think about was how much love she held in her heart for a college girl she met barely an hour before. At times it is easy to forget that our one to three hours on Sunday isn’t always true fellowship. When we invest in the lives of those around us and love our many brothers, sisters, and grandmothers we experience the joy of family. That is why I love the Church; they are my family in the best sense of the word.

Kate

Church Planting

From Rob...

As I as reading the Bible today I came across this statement by Moses to God.

‎"If your presence will not go with us, do not send us up from here." Ex 33:15

It is a sending (missio) passage, but Moses is literally begging God to suspend the mission if He will not accompany him along the way.  Moses makes his case even stronger in the next verse by saying, “How will anyone know that you are pleased with me and your people unless you go with us.  What else will distinguish me and your people from all the other people on the face of the earth?”  (v. 16)

I am embarking on a new church planting effort, but have a seriousness and tentativeness (unusual for me) about it that reflects Moses’ position.  I am 54.  I have done a lot of things (some even good).  I do not want to plant “A church.”  I do, however, crave God and his love movement toward the world.  My prayer is found couched within Moses’ request…please don’t send me unless Your Presence will go with and before me/us.

Would you be willing to pray with Robi and I?  Pray for passion and clarity and teaming and overwhelming compassion for our city…and most of all, for God to accompany the effort with His grand life.

Amen

r

Being Missional Will Kill Me

    Relationship. This is the word I keep coming back to the more I learn about the true calling of the Church and the people of God. Everything centers on the idea that to be a “city on a hill” we have to have relationships with the people around us that will allow them to see what the family of God looks like and what being a dedicated disciple of Christ really means. And, yes, I love the idea of “doing life” with fellow Christians and living in a way that shows what the gospel is about.

    BUT, I am terrified at the idea of relational. I’m not kidding; I am not good at first impressions, holding coherent conversations, making small talk, meeting new people, etc. Don’t get me wrong, God has given me a heart for people and I love being around those whom I already know, but for some reason God also made me a person that would rather stay in a corner than engage others. So when I think about starting conversations with strangers and putting myself out there with other Christians, it scares me.

    At times it is easy for me to tell myself that God must have a more “behind-the-scenes” plan for my place in the Church, since He made me an introvert. However, I have realized that in some way or another Jesus calls everyone to radically change who they are and how they act when they join the family of God. He asks us to lay down idols and sins and our old selves in order to abide in Him and rescript our stories to include the fullness of life that He wants to give us. Jesus says to us in Luke 9:23, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.” What if, for me, denying myself means denying the part of me that would rather not talk to anyone? It might be that being missional will kill that part of me, but I am called to die to myself anyway; “I have been crucified with Christ and I no longer live, but Christ lives in me.” Reaching out to strangers and engaging the world might scare me, but if stepping outside of my shell and into Christ’s power allows me to be a part of the work of the Kingdom of God, then it will be entirely worth the pain of death.

Kate

Eucharistic Mess

Jessica

Where does your allegiance lie?

    Why do we have different church denominations? I mean, I understand how they came into existence and the reasons behind it, but why?

    I think that having different church styles is extremely important because it can be hard to meet the vast variety of needs amongst us as individuals. We are strengthened when we come together with our differences. However, saying that, I think the church has been splintered rather than strengthened by its denominations. Instead of drawing closer together under one banner, Christ Jesus, we've separated off into factions, each claiming its own ways and rights. If we follow Christ, and are His, why do we claim alegiance to any other spiritual background? Why do we place our identity in anything other than Him?

    We are ultimately not Lutherans, nor Baptists, nor Presbyterians, nor any other denomination and we are not Non-denominational (which has become a denomination of sorts in its own right).

    What kind of a witness are we? One to a fractured church? If you have placed your faith and trust in the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ then you have been adopted into the family of God. You are His. And as His body, you are called to be unified. As a follower of Christ Jesus, a son of the King, and a brother in the family of God, I'm done being defined by what denomination I do or don't belong to. I am His, and that's where I choose to stand. It's enough.

Zach