Life's rhythms

Have you ever noticed how our life is about rhythms?  There is an ebb and flow to just about everything we do.  For instance, we live in a world of seasons.  No matter how hot summer may be in August, we know what is heading our way in January (usually).  It’s what I love most about living in this part of the country — we move in and out of seasons: spring, summer, autumn and winter.  You don’t have to live too long with one, before another comes back around.  It creates a rhythm for us, an expectancy.

Other rhythms come back around based on the calendar:  New Years, Easter, Memorial Day, Fourth of July, Labor Day, Thanksgiving and Christmas.  These too become rhythms of life for us.

Others are more personal.  For instance, I take a vacation with my wife every summer, go bow hunting every October, celebrate Thanksgiving and Christmas with family, and vacation over spring break at the same spot in Florida the first week of March.  These create rhythms for my family.  You and your family have them too.

Many of life’s rhythms are based on what could be considered traditions.  We have them here at Olivet:  Ollies Follies, the Block Party, Homecoming, Recess, Mr. ONU and TCW, to name a few.  These are a part of what we call life at Olivet.    

There is one other tradition we have around here that I’d like to mention.  It comes around early in the fall and spring semesters.  It was here when I was a student and when many of your parents were students.  We call it revival.  Revival is a part of the rhythm of life here at Olivet.

It’s a week for renewal, awakening.  It’s a time we set aside to focus our attention, to turn our ears, to listen intentionally to the things that God is saying to us.  I believe God is already moving on our campus this semester.  We don’t limit God to dates on a calendar or the clock.  But revival is our way of saying, like Samuel, “Speak, Lord, for your servants are listening.”  It is a time as a campus community we all “gather in” to see what God wants to say to us in new and fresh ways.  It’s a time when we expect God to have a new word for us.  Revival is a rhythm of life for us.  We could call it a practice.

Here at Olivet, we believe that God still speaks.  We believe He speaks on our campus.  We believe that when faculty, staff and students alike set everything else aside to focus on what He is saying, then we “will hear from heaven.” 

Will you join me this week, as we “listen in” once again?  Will you join me in praying for revival?

·         Pray for Dr. Warrick, our speaker.

·         Pray for Fred Meadows and the worship band that will be leading at College Church Sunday morning, and Monday through Wednesday evening. 

·         Pray for Jonathan Burkey and the worship band that will be leading our morning chapels.

·         Pray for our campus, that we listen and obey.

Practice makes perfect

Text for the week: Matthew 5:48

Perfection is something we all strive for, and we even talk about it when it comes to our faith.  What exactly is perfection?  When Scripture says we are to be perfect as our Heavenly Father is perfect, is that even possible?

Those are great questions, with centuries of debate behind them.  That being said, I’m not going to try to tackle them here.  But, if holiness is the goal, how do we get there? 

The verse referred to above is found in Matthew chapters 5-7, in the Sermon on the Mount, and can be confusing and haunting at the same time.  Jesus is teaching on the “way we live” in Matthew 5:48: “Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  This is in the context of the command to love those who hate and persecute you.  Be perfect in the way that God is perfect?  Who can do that?

It’s another one of those verses, like doing greater things than these (John 14:12), that we put off at times, not knowing what to do with it.  Is Jesus serious?  Well, what if he was?  How does that affect the way you and I live?

I think the answer to that is found in the question.  In our search to figure out what perfection means, and how to be holy, we need to come to grips with this way to live.  Maybe for some, we need to even admit there is a way to live, or that the way we live matters.  We cannot “make ourselves holy” or “earn our salvation,” but the work that God is doing in our heart is expressed by how we live.  

In chapel last Wednesday, I told you that I hate to practice. Practice takes discipline.  I quit playing the cornet because I didn’t want to practice anymore.  The same was true for basketball.  I never liked all the drills that went along with the teaching of the game — I just wanted to play! So, I was never much of a basketball player because I didn’t put the time in to practice it.

You know as well as I do that practice is necessary.  And in order to practice, you need to be disciplined.

It’s why J. J. Reddick was one of the most prolific three-point shooters in the history of college basketball — because he shot 300, three-pointers every day after a 2 ½-hour practice.

It’s also why Luke Donald is one of the most dominant golfers in the world — because he hits golf balls off the practice tees well into the evening, after playing an exhausting round of 18 holes.

It’s why Yo-Yo Ma is considered one of the greatest cellists in history — because of the countless hours he practices scales on his cello.

If perfection is the mandate, then practice is a necessity.  There is a way to live.  How’s your practice?

What is Advent?

Text for the week:  Luke 1:67-79

As I reflect on this semester, I think we’ve come full circle.  Here’s what I mean:

While suffering from a mild case of writer’s block, I was reading through some of my reflections written earlier in this semester, realizing that what I had written in September was really about Advent.  That’s almost like playing Christmas music before Thanksgiving — or is it? 

Here’s what I wrote:

I’m reading a book by Phillip Yancy entitled, Rumors of Another World.  In it, he talks about the tension we live in between two worlds; one filled with disorder, pain, sorrow and death; and another that gives signs that point to a reality different than what we often see.  At times, the disorder of one acts as a signpost to the other.

I’ve been reflecting on how that shapes how we remember, especially this week as we arrive at the 10-year anniversary of the September 11 attacks.  There is a lot being said about how to move through this weekend — preparations being made by every organization, from churches to the NFL.  As people of a particular faith, shaped by the one called Jesus, we move through it remaining hopeful that the world that is disordered will one day be made new.  We long for the day when there will be no more crying, pain, death or sorrow, and work to make this Kingdom a present reality.  So we lean into that future, in hope and faith longing for the day when Friday is gone and Sunday is here.

That’s Advent.  Living today, shaped by the hope we have for tomorrow.  Christ has come and will come again. While we wait, we experience His presence here and now.  Advent living isn’t seasonal, like Christmas music.  We don’t remove it from our thought, like the tree from our family rooms.  We don’t put it away, like the lights on our porch.  It shapes us every day as we remember the first time He came by the retelling of the stories of the birth of Jesus; looking ahead to the day when He will come again; and allowing those thoughts to shape how we live today. 

So, until He comes again, Merry Christmas!

Christmas is everywhere

Text for the week: Luke 2:1-20

You can’t go anywhere this time of year without noticing that there is something different going on here.  From the lighting of Michigan Avenue, more music than any one person can listen to in a month, Black Friday every week, a Michael Bublé Christmas concert, Bieber ruining a song forever, guaranteed pricing at Wal-Mart, and even Panera opening at the end of this month (Can I get a “wahoo”?), Christmas is everywhere!

But if you think it’s all “out there,” it’s also all over our campus — Party for the Kids, The Messiah, The Christmas Bizarre, Sounds of the Season, and Party with Baby Jesus. Christmas is everywhere.

All of these things are great, and remind me of the first Christmas, which wasn’t such a great celebration. Oh, I suppose you could technically say there were lights (hello, star!), music, and fanfare (hello, angel choir!). But it really started with a young couple showing up in a busy town, surrounded by busy people, sleeping in a stinky stable with stinky barn animals, and the only ones paying enough attention to show up were shepherds — who no one believed anyway!  Quite the beginning, right?

I’m not sure about you, but I’m so glad we’ve come as far as we have in how we celebrate Christmas. After 2000 years, we finally have it right. In the church, we decorate properly, sing properly, dress properly, and celebrate properly.  We know when to start playing the Christmas music (sort of), when to put up the decorations, when to take them down, and when and where to shop.  We never grow tired of singing the old carols, because you might only get to sing your favorite once a year, if you’re lucky.  Christmas is everywhere! I can’t speak for you, but I’m really glad to be celebrating now, and not then!

This week, don’t miss out on your chance to celebrate Christmas properly by hitting the new layaway plan at Wal-Mart, insisting on their lowest price guarantee through Christmas, listening to as much Christmas music as possible, and counting the days until the semester is over. Christmas is everywhere!

So close, yet so far. 

Everything matters

Text for the week: Colossians 3:17

Well, that about does it, right?  That’s about all that needs to be said.  We’ve transitioned and turned the corner.  Because of where we are in the semester, we find ourselves thinking about Thanksgiving break and all that goes with it.

I think of Thanksgiving Day (the first day Christmas music is allowed in my home), putting up Christmas decorations, watching the Lions lose again, eating turkey till I bust, and the traditional clash between my beloved Buckeyes and the boys wearing the ugly helmets north of the state line. (Got your attention on that one, didn’t I?)

I’m not sure how you are, but I compartmentalize my life pretty easily.  It’s natural for me to just move on and forget what I’ve just done because it’s done, over, finis (thought I’d throw a little French in there). It’s already getting colder, getting dark early, and everything seems to be rapidly moving us toward the end of the semester and on to Christmas.  So, before our minds wander too far away from topic, here is one last thought: Whatever you do for God matters.

This semester, I know we’ve talked a lot about going, but I want you to know that whatever you do and wherever you do it, matters.  When Tony Campolo was here, he challenged us to go where we are needed — not where anyone else could do what we do.  I think he said it something like this:  “Why would you go someplace and do what you do, if a lot of other people can do it, instead of going someplace where what you do is needed, and no one wants to go?”

Before we put a bow on this box and put it under the tree, I hope you will think about that challenge one more time.  I don’t care where you go.  I just want you to find God waiting for you when you get there.  I don’t care what you do — that’s not my call.  I just want you to do the very thing that God created you to do, and that’s between the two of you. 

I trust God to help you discover what that is, and where you will do it.  I believe He is capable of speaking that into your heart, if you’re listening.  I don’t think we necessarily need to do anything differently to hear Him, just be attentive to the ways He is speaking to us every day.  It’s the little things that matter most.  Whatever we do for God matters. It makes all the difference in the world. 

Bigger hands

Text for the week: Exodus 3:13-4:5

A couple weeks ago, I had a conversation with two professors and we wondered together how God was going to use one of our guests in chapel.  What would God say to us through them?

During the course of the conversation, I said something — maybe in an attempt to ease my mind as much as to come up with a response.  In a moment of inspiration, I made this statement:  “Bigger hands are shaping this semester than mine.”  It was intended to be a statement of faith, but is one I believe has become a reality to us.


Since then, I’ve thought about that conversation and my response several times.  I’ve actually used that phrase often, maybe with some of you.  The further we move into the semester, the more profound it has become to me — not because I said it, but because it is true.  The evidence is right in front of us, again showing up this week through three of our own faculty and two alumni. 

Bigger hands have been shaping this semester than mine — than all of ours.  This is a not-so-subtle reminder that we aren’t in charge.  God is, and He will do what He will do, when He wants to do it.  We can plan, pray, and do everything we can, but ultimately, this is His.  We believe that God is ever-present, but it has been apparent to me, and many of you, that He has chosen to be close to us as well. 

Yet in the midst of saying that, we need to also be reminded that He sees us; He sees you and me.  He is aware of the deepest desires of our hearts. As we seek Him, He wants us to not only find Him (Jeremiah 29:13), but find those desires met. 

I had this conversation with a student just this week, reminding him that God doesn’t jerk us around, doesn’t play games with us concerning the things that matter most.  He desires to shape us, helping us to experience life that is more than we could ever imagine in our wildest dreams (Ephesians 3:20, The Message Translation).


So, the question of the semester remains: What will you do with what God has placed in your hands?

Lessons from a ballpark

Text for the week: Jeremiah 29:10-14

I’m a recovering baseball fan.  The strike of ’91 hurt, but the strike of ’94 killed me.  I know, ’94?  The team with the best record in baseball before the strike of ’94 was the Montreal Expos. Again, I can hear a resounding, “Montreal Expos?”

But, it’s not the teams I want to talk about today. It’s the stadiums they played in: Olympic Stadium in Montreal. Municipal Stadium in Cleveland. Old Candlestick in San Francisco. The Big “A” in Anaheim. Three River Stadium in Pittsburgh. Riverfront Stadium in Cincinnati. The Astrodome in Houston. And even my beloved Tiger Stadium in Detroit. 

None of these stadiums are standing anymore, but do you know what else they had in common?  They were large, cavernous stadiums built to get as many people in them as possible.   Not much personality.  As a matter of fact, you could almost say that if you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all.  Big, oval, concrete structures that, once inside, you couldn’t see beyond their walls to the outside world.  You didn’t go to the game for the ballpark, you went in spite of it. 

It’s why people value the older stadiums like Fenway and Wrigley, with their personality, charm and individuality — remembered for things like ivy and “a green monster.”  People still go to watch those teams, just to visit the ballparks.  It doesn’t really matter how well the Cubs are doing; they still draw over 2.5 million because of the ballpark. 

So, if you visit the stadiums that have replaced the ones listed above, you will see that they are all built with a different purpose in mind.  They are all individually shaped not just for the team, but even around the city they inhabit. 

Did you see the arch cut in the grass of Busch Stadium during the World Series, showcasing not just the Cardinals, but the entire downtown skyline of St. Louis?  Or have you been to The Great America Ballpark in Cincinnati, where you are on a river walk once you walk out of the seats in right field?  Or how about the new Miller Ballpark in Milwaukee, where every time a homerun is hit, Bernie slides into a huge stein, and every fifth inning you have the mascot race, made up of a brat, sausage, hotdog, and polish?  See what I mean?

Each is creative and individual, having its own personality, experience, charm and even story.  Just like us.  I don’t think I’m being romantic, either — because we matter!   We are wired by our Creator to long for meaning and purpose and to see ourselves as He created us to be.  And like we were reminded this week, not one of us is wired the same, and that’s okay.  (I’m glad I wasn’t called to math, either!)

Just like the new generation of major league ballparks springing up across the country, maybe their rebuilding is expressing the greater longing within each of us to find our own meaning and purpose for this life.   Maybe we can learn a lesson from a baseball park, because maybe they are betraying our hearts.   

What are you hearing?