As I reflect on this past US election cycle, I’ve made a couple of observations.
I apologize now. I’m putting on my old preacher’s cap and I’m going to speak to my fellow Christ-followers. So if you don’t want a sermon, please turn away now. Also, I’m preaching to myself as well and not singling out any person or group.
My first observation is that our behavior during the past several months is symptomatic of a serious problem as Christ-followers. (And again, I’m speaking to myself about this as well.) The fact that we either joined in the endless arguing or stayed on the sidelines confused and befuddled only shows that we have misplaced our trust in our democratic system. So when faced with candidates with little moral integrity, we fell into the trap of voting for the one who would do the least amount of damage or keep the other “monster” out of office and from destroying our country.
I suspect that with the best intentions, all of us believed we should do something, but couldn’t determine the best course of action that resonated with our conscience and values. So most of us compromised in one way or another.
And that leads me to my second observation. Most, if not all, of us have no imagination about how to actually be God’s New Creation in the here and now. It’s true with politics and probably in other important areas of life.
Let me back up and summarize. Christ died to defeat all the evil powers enslaving humankind and restore us ontologically (our nature) and vocationally (our roles) as his image-bearers. The immediate consequence of that victory was Jesus’ resurrection. This launched God’s future New Creation, when God would fully and finally merge heaven and earth, the two spheres of his good creation. But Jesus’ resurrection launched that future reality in the here and now. Jesus’ Ascension and Pentecost then “sealed the deal.” In his ascension part of “earth” — Jesus’ human body — is fully at home in “heaven” and part of “heaven” — God’s empowering Spirit — now dwells on earth in our human bodies.
St Paul tells us in 2Corinthians 5:17, “If anyone is in Messiah, new creation!” That person has both entered God’s New Creation and is God’s New Creation in bodily form.
So everything God accomplished in Jesus is now carried onward by Jesus’ followers. We are his New Creation and we continue his New Creation.
I’ve used this metaphor before, but becoming the New Creation is like training for the marathon. It’s not something that comes naturally. One cannot “Just do it!” Or to shift metaphors, living in and being God’s New Creation is like learning a new language. You may be able to initially fake a couple of words, but it takes time and effort to speak fluently in that language. Or to use another metaphor, living in God’s new world order and embodying his new world order is like learning to play the violin. We can all probably make it squeak and squawk. But to learn and master the instrument in order to play a fine classical number with passion and nuance takes discipline and diligence.
I’m sure you get my point. The fact that most of us either joined in the incendiary pre-election conversations (and I use the word “conversations” in the lightest way possible) or wrestled with almost paralyzing uncertainty about how to vote shows that we have not trained properly to be God’s New Creation. We were not ready to be and act as his New Creation.
So how do we move forward from here? Here are some suggestions that I plan to prayerfully follow.
First, we must learn what it means to be God’s New Creation and how to become it and live in it in our present daily lives. This means growing in our understanding and imagination about what the New Creation is. It also means being formed into Jesus’ likeness so we can be and act as God’s image-bearers.
Second, we must do this in community together. Jesus’ people, as a community, are his Body. We must share in life and in His life together. Regardless of our traditions, we must come together with the common goal of being with Jesus in order to learn from Jesus how to be like Jesus.
Third, in community, we must prayerfully seek and then in faith develop strategies for being God’s New Creation in every facet of life. Remember, God’s New Creation is an entirely new world order that requires rethinking and reimagining how to live in all of its facets.
In some ways, we need to backwards-engineer God’s New Creation. With thoughts and imaginations formed by a biblical vision, we must ask what steps must we take as individuals and as a community to see it birthed and matured in our lives.
For example, what character and behavior needs to be developed in my life and what spiritual disciplines, sacraments, prayers, and activities is God calling me to practice in cooperation with his continually forming process?
Or, what areas of need, pain and injustice exist in our neighboring community that our faith-community can engage with God’s love, compassion, power and healing? And how do we go about doing that?
Or, how do we address the real grit of daily life as God’s New Creation? How to be single as his New Creation. How to be married as his New Creation. How to be divorced as his New Creation. How to be a parent as his New Creation. How to be in business as his New Creation. How to be in ministry as his New Creation. How to be in education as his New Creation. How to deal with injustice as his New Creation. How to engage in politics as his New Creation. The list goes on and on and on.
And none of this comes naturally. It’s fueled by intimacy with Jesus and formed in cooperation with Jesus. And it must be done in community.
But the hard work must be done. Frankly, it’s confusing and painful work. As a reminder, look to our King’s suffering upon the cross and his followers’ confusion at its foot. Look to his followers’ confusion at the empty tomb and subsequent encounters with the resurrected Lord. Look to his followers’ uncertainty at the ascension. Look to the onlookers’ befuddlement at the Spirit’s gifting. Look to the early community’s fumblings as they learn together how to live together. Look to the early messengers like St Paul as they, with much persecution and suffering, contextualized and embodied God’s New Creation in new territories and cultures.
St Paul says in Romans 8:19, “Yes: creation itself is on tiptoe with expectation, eagerly awaiting the moment when God’s children will be revealed.” That day will finally and fully come. But it began when, through his death, Jesus restored us as God’s image-bearers and then launched God’s New Creation so that we may carry it onward until the day when God completes his good work.
The scene unfolds in mere seconds. In the deep darkness lit by a several torches, a crowd approaches. Their intentions are clear. They’ve come to arrest Jesus and his followers. Where moments before the torchlight of his friends had lulled Peter to sleep, the torchlights of this hostile crowd snaps him awake.
Here’s a thought today as we celebrate Thanksgiving in the U.S.
In Revelation, when God is depicted on his throne, it actually conveys a high level of active participation in his reign. Simply put, God’s sovereign good plan for his creation is for his son to save a royal priesthood, to restore the human vocation of being image-bearers and to restore Israel’s vocation of being a rescuing blessing to the nations. Thus, God is on his throne, so we, his royal priesthood, have work to do.
Does that phrase sound familiar? John used a similar phrase in John 1:18, “Nobody has ever seen God. The only-begotten God, who is intimately close to the father — he has brought him to light.”
I’m waiting eagerly and full of hope, because nothing is going to put me to shame. I am going to be bold and outspoken, now as always, and the king is going to gain a great reputation through my body, whether in life or in death. You see, for me to live means the Messiah; to die means to make a profit. If it’s to be living on in the flesh, that means fruitful work for me. Actually, I don’t know which I would choose. I’m pulled both ways at once: I would really love to leave all this and be with the king, because that would be far better. But staying on here in the flesh is more vital for your sake. Since I’ve become convinced of this, I know that I will remain here, and stay alongside all of you, to help you to advance and rejoice in your faith, so that the pride you take in King Jesus may overflow because of me, when I come to visit you once again. – Philippians 1:20-26
“Is it lawful to give tribute to Caesar or not? Should we pay it, or shouldn’t we?”
The news on both traditional and social media the past several months continues to remind me of a very poignant truth. James 1:20 says, “Human anger, you see, doesn’t produce God’s justice!”
I’ve remained fairly silent in regards to the upcoming U.S. presidential election. I’ll be honest, I don’t find affinity with any of the presidential candidates. So I’m not voting for any of them.
Our culture has encouraged us to view our lives as our personal stories, our narratives. From this perspective, my story is what defines me as an unique individual. As such, I am the master and commander of my life. And some of us can get pretty creative and fluid in writing our life’s narratives.
The more I read and reflect on Revelation, the more excited I become about its story. I’m not excited because I believe I’ve unravelled all of its symbols and nuances. In fact, the opposite is true. I feel as if a vast ocean of mysterious imagery and allusions lays before me to explore and learn. But rather, my excitement for Revelation is that it calls me and every Jesus-follower to participate in God’s unfolding plan for his good creation.







In my early years as a Christian, it was easy for me to dismiss liturgy as being ritualistic. Unfortunately, there are too many anecdotes that validated my belief. As I matured over the years, I observed two things. First, many who dismissed liturgy as ritualistic only replaced one form of liturgy with another, albeit a much simpler one. For example, at the Vineyard, we had an unspoken liturgy that we followed at virtually every service — 30-45 minutes of singing, announcements, sermon, altar call, and then prayer time. Similar liturgies were performed in other churches and denominations I attended.
Christian history is replete with this type of misguided zeal. A serious problem occurs when protecting the fidelity of the Faith eclipses the actual values of the Faith. While we may not literally call down fire, we resort to other tactics. We’ll label ourselves and others so that it creates an “us” vs “them” dichotomy. We’ll denounce others who are not in our group while we exalt ourselves as being genuine Christians. We’ll resort to “straw man” tactics or compare our group’s best with their group’s worst.
“I urge you, brothers and sisters, by our Lord Jesus Christ and by the love of the Spirit, to join me in my struggle by praying to God for me. Pray that I may be kept safe from the unbelievers in Judea and that the contribution I take to Jerusalem may be favorably received by the Lord’s people there.” -Romans 15:30-31
The other day I was reading Acts 1:21-26. This is the episode when the Apostles replace the fallen Judas as one of The Twelve.
Around 6pm tonight, Debbie, Chris and I watched our family’s best and dearest friends, Mark and Barbara Feliciano, drive away to begin a new phase in their lives in Idaho Falls. I’ve been dreading this day since October 1, 2015 when Mark and Barb shared with us the potential of moving to Idaho.
Mark and Barb’s home was like a second home to our family. My children were always welcome and enjoyed authentic adult friendships from an early age. Our families have shared more meals, conversations, dreams, laughs and tears than I can count. And our family has benefited in untold ways from Mark and Barb’s wisdom, generosity, compassion, mercy, encouragement, and prayers. They have been such a constant source of love in our lives. Even as the last boxes were being loaded onto the trailer by the moving company, we shared a final meal filled with laughter and joy in their empty living room.
As we helped Mark and Barb pack their last few belongings into their car, hugged them good-bye and watched them drive away, I was crushed by the reality that they will no longer be a few minutes away. Their home that was once filled with warmth and love is now an empty husk. There will be no more times of sharing stories from the past week, no more talking face-to-face about God’s activity in our lives, no more impromptu dinners, no more Super Bowl parties, no more hanging out and just being together.
A beautiful piece of our lives drove away today. There is a gaping hole in our hearts and I am sad beyond belief. We will miss them dearly.
“Roundabouts” by Zeb Andrews
This past weekend, I took a walk in Glendora and passed by Finkbiner Park. This park is filled with great memories of my children playing together. It reminded me of how much I loved watching my kids play when they were younger. I remember them playing tag at local parks or gobbling down their food and rushing to play on the slides, tubes and ball pit at McDonalds.
I enjoyed joining them on these excursions. Debbie and I would walk with them, watch them scooter ahead to scout for Pokemon and come zipping back with excitement.
“Forgiveness is more like the air in your lungs. There’s only room for you to inhale the next lungful when you’ve just breathed out the previous one. If you insist on withholding it, refusing to give someone else the kiss of life they may desperately need, you won’t be able to take any more in yourself, and you will suffocate very quickly. Whatever the spiritual, moral and emotional equivalent of the lungs may be (we sometimes say ‘the heart’, but that of course is a metaphor as well), it’s either open or closed. If it’s open, able and willing to forgive others, it will also be open to receive God’s love and forgiveness. But if it’s locked up to the one, it will be locked up to the other.”
“A Christian is: a mind through which Christ thinks, a heart through which Christ loves, a voice through which Christ speaks, and a hand through which Christ helps.” -St Augustine
In this light, right or wrong is either the path toward eternal being or non-being. Or to borrow Jesus’ imagery, it’s either remaining connected to the vine and naturally thriving or being cut off and naturally withering.
Last week for my 50th birthday, I took on a personal project. On my birthday, I took a vacation day and visited several of the important locations from my past. For three hours, I visited my old homes, schools, churches and other important places.
One of the beautiful aspects of Eastern Orthodoxy are the icons of the saints. The saints are those whom the Church recognizes to have lived a full life of actually enduring to the likeness of Christ. Most are apostles, martyrs, church fathers, and monastics. But for every recognized saint, there are thousands upon thousands of unknown and unmentioned saints.
This post concludes a short series that includes the following posts:
As my time at the Vineyard and professional ministry drew to an end in 2003, I began blogging. Originally, several of us who left the Vineyard and started a faith community started blogging through our new community’s website, “The Offramp.”
The recent activity on this blog is the expression of those two facets. I’m making room to pray and reflect. The activity and noise from daily life easily obstructs the internal currents of the soul. Writing clears the debris and increases my sensitivity to my inner life. It’s not always a pretty picture. But it is a necessary task.
“The groanings of the believer are not only expressive of sorrow—but also of hope, of the intensity of his spiritual desires, of his panting after God, and his yearning for the bliss which awaits him on high (2 Corinthians 5:2, 4).”
The largest amount of time I lived in one place was in Glendora. Debbie and I moved to Glendora when Michael was about a year old. We lived in the same four-unit complex for almost 20 years. We started in a two-bedroom 1-1/2 bath unit from mid-1993 until late 1999. Then we moved into a three-bedroom 2-1/2 bathroom unit until February 2012. This home and city will always hold a dear place in my heart.
I remember our moving day on January 28, 2012. It had been difficult packing twenty-plus years of life into boxes and then a truck. It was simultaneously exciting and sad.
As a young girl, I loved watching her run around the house, her curly hair bouncing with each step. Her young infectious giggle made me laugh. Her tears broke my heart. She loves her sister and brothers. As you can see from an early family portrait, she absolutely bursts with personality.
Dani is an incredibly strong and courageous person. I don’t know if people ever see how the occasional stress and heartbreak chip away until there are tears. And then the resolve returns. But I do. And God does.
I first saw this icon in a Facebook post by
This October marks the ten-year anniversary of one of the most remarkable moments of my life — the day I baptized my kids.
The second is Debbie. I cannot state enough how rock-solid she has been throughout the years. While each year brings challenges and changes, she has remained a continual source of strength, love and joy.
Today is our 27th anniversary. Twenty-seven years ago, I cried in front of a couple hundred people as the church doors opened and this amazing woman walked down the aisle to join her life with mine.
As the hymn draws to an end, the iconostasis doors open and the Great Procession begins. The priest carries Jesus’ body and blood into our midst. HE IS PRESENT RIGHT HERE, RIGHT NOW!
I read somewhere that there are two groups of photographers.
I want to ask a tough question. “What’s God doing in and saying to you right now in your life?” I told you it’s a tough question. I’m not sure I could provide a stellar answer right now.
But may all who seek you rejoice and be glad in you; may those who love your salvation say continually, “Great is the Lord!” -Psalm 40.16
Here’s a quote from Archbishop Anastosios worth mulling over:
This is another post in a short series that began
“Theology without love is the theology of the demons.” -St Simeon the New Theologian
One of the things I dislike is “insider talk.” These are words and phrases that people in groups use to communicate with each other. Most of the time, these words and phrases simply become rote to those inside the group and confusing to those outside of the group.
I enjoy rereading books. Even though I know how it will climax, the journey is so enjoyable that I return over and over. And sometimes knowing the ending enhances subsequent readings.
This the second post that began

