Tim Clark’s Blog

“Six days do your work, but on the seventh day do not work, so that your ox and your donkey may rest and the slave born in your household, and the alien as well, may be refreshed.” (Exodus 23:12)

All of my life I’ve struggled with the practice of Sabbath. For a long time, it was because I thought this was an old law that didn’t need to be taken too seriously anymore by a new covenant kind of guy. By the time I realized how off base that theology was, I wrestled with the command because I was not used to slowing down. I reasoned that I could take a Sabbath in my heart or live with an attitude of Sabbath. The Apostle Paul seemed to argue that it wasn’t about a specific day of the week, and even Jesus said that people were not made for the Sabbath, but that the Sabbath was made for us.

In the culture most of us were raised in, a real day of rest is about as difficult to come by as a winning lottery ticket. In fact, that is exactly how we treat it: It’s an unexpected treasure to discover a 24-hour period where absolutely nothing productive needs to be done and during which we can simply rest, recreate, and enjoy relationships. Recently in my life I’ve recognized that I can’t wait for these days to magically happen, but that I need to plan them regularly if they are ever going to take place at all.

For my life to be healthy, the experts say, I need to take a Sabbath—I need to rest from my efforts. I can buy that. And I’m doing my best to try it.

But all this time I’ve missed something very important. Sabbath is not just about me. This verse in Exodus (23:12) is clear about the fact that one of the reasons I must take a Sabbath is so that others around me can rest.

When I decide to burn the candle at both ends for seasons on end without a break, I’m not the only one who feels it; everyone around me suffers. Now, I don’t have an ox or a donkey, and would never own a slave, but this principle can be quickly contextualized. How often does my wife suffer because I can’t slow down? When do my kids not feel short-changed as I charge off to more work or further ministry, having not spent a legitimate day of rest with them for weeks? How hard do I drive my staff or co-workers because they feel they should answer my email or cell phone call on a day when we are called to unplug?

We living creatures were designed to be refreshed. I deny that possibility in other’s lives around me when I refuse to submit to a Sabbath. Even if I can take a Sabbath “in my heart”, I’m doing nothing for the needed rest or refreshment in those I care about. There are other reasons to follow this important mandate, but even if following the Sabbath were only for others, it would be well worth it.

I was just talking to a friend of mine (thanks Scott McBride) about Luke 24 & Acts 1—the place where Jesus tells His disciples not to leave Jerusalem but to wait. What an incredibly difficult proposition! They had been given a mission (a great one at that) and they must have been pumped full of passion after spending a little over a month in dialogue with the risen Savior. This was no time to wait; this was the time to act.

But, the Master told them to wait. They knew they were ready; Jesus knew they were not yet fully equipped. They believed they had all the information they needed; Jesus understood they required more than information—they needed the overflow of the Holy Spirit’s presence. They had a huge task ahead of them, but it would all start with a lot of sitting, a lot of praying, and a lot of waiting for a “something” that was not very clear at all.

Yes, the 120 got to hang out and pray together, and that had to be encouraging. But I wonder about the times when normal life was happening. Someone had to go get food. I imagine there were kids to take care of. Do you think someone in that bunch may have still had to go to work? What about sleeping arrangements?

Regardless of the specific conditions present (we’re just not sure), the fact is, it is hardest to wait in the day-to-day. Getting a mission from God is grand, and praying or dreaming with your fellow believers about your future can be exhilarating. Waiting for “something” to happen and having to continue to live life well in the mean time…that’s just plain difficult.

Yet they are told to wait. Jesus had been getting His disciples ready for 3 years, but those last few weeks were imperative. I’ve found that sometimes it’s the last little bit that really makes the difference. When we take a shortcut to get to our calling, we miss the best part of the preparation He may have for us. When we think we understand the assignment well, and when we “help God out just a little” before all the pieces are in place, we may jeopardize the entire mission.

Though waiting isn’t fun, especially after we have received a promise, it is often essential. I do find two very encouraging things about this scripture in that regard:

First, what the Lord had them wait for was better than anything they could have engaged on their own—Taking things into our own hands never accomplishes the purposes of God that are “immeasurably more than all we can ask or imagine”.

Second, the definition of wait here does not imply that they needed to sit around with their hands in their pockets until something happened. Wait means to expect with hope; this is an active waiting that is full of faith and anticipation.

I can grab onto that. I can remember the things God has said to me and faithfully and expectantly believe that He is at work in me, around me, and even through me to bring what is promised about. And I get excited to think that it is going to be better than anything I could ever manufacture on my own.

Yesterday I read, in Luke 18, the story of the Blind man Jesus encountered on the way to Jericho. Mark 10 tells us that his name was Bartimaeus. As Jesus was walking by the place where Bart begged, he shouted out to Jesus, “have mercy on me” and the crowd—those who were in front of him—rebuked him. Well, he finally gets Jesus’ attention and then the question is asked, “What do you want me to do for you?”

When I look back at Mark 10, I realize that just before this episode, Jesus had asked two of his disciples the same question. James and John wanted Jesus to do them a favor and Jesus replied, “What do you want me to do for you?”

They wanted power and authority. They wanted to sit on His right and left when He became King. They wanted to be the most important of the disciples. And Jesus essentially said, “That’s not something that I can promise you.”

Jesus gave a radically different answer to Bart’s request which was polar opposite to the favor His followers had just asked. The beggar said, “Lord, I want to see”. He knew that he was blind, that mercy was required to even get the ear of the Lord, and that the power of God was necessary to address his condition.

The crowd who had good seats to see this miracle-working teacher was annoyed and embarrassed by the beggar behind them. The disciples who were already in the inner circle were jockeying for the position of the coveted ‘most inner circle’. Maybe calling them fanboys and synchophants is too harsh. Regardless, there seems to be a clear case of entitlement mentality in both parties. “We deserve this” is a readily visible attitude, not just in the disciples and the crowd, but in our own lives as well.

Bart didn’t deserve what he was asking. He understood that he didn’t deserve anything. As a beggar in that culture, he knew that nobody was required to give him anything so everything he had was due to the mercy or kindness (or perhaps guilt) of friends, family, and strangers.  Bart was the poor in spirit that Jesus talked about. He was about to be blessed.

When I read scripture, I always want to find the metaphorical ‘you are here’ dot (you know, the one that gives your location in the mall?). Who am I in this story? Am I part of the crowd, embarrassed by the passionate cries of a blind beggar that I have effectively learned to ignore all my life? Or am I a disciple who, having given up everything, feels that there is some obligation on God’s part to return the favor?

Though I definitely find a personal point of challenge here, I also know where I want to be—I want to be Bartimaeus: Embracing my constant need for mercy; Recognizing that I am blind and only through the touch of Jesus can I be made to see; Never thinking that God or anybody else owes me a thing; Embracing my great, daily need for God and, regardless of my position or income level, identifying with all those who are poor in spirit, who are promised the Kingdom of Heaven.

This week I participated in an intensive Grad class on strategic design and organizational change. Besides the delight of this being my last Masters-level course before I will receive my degree (yeah!), I thoroughly enjoyed this class. Our world is in a period of profound cultural transition, and churches need to be aware of how to thrive, and not just survive, during this time. This class confirmed something I have been noticing regarding how various churches are navigating this turbulent time.

First, there are those who want to deny that culture-defining transition is even taking place. They want to assume that any change which may be happening now is simply continuous change: This is the kind of change that is largely predictable, expected, and can be managed well using the same systems currently employed to take care of past challenges. These folks believe any opposition their churches may face right now simply reflect the same kind of issues that have always been around. I think this response can be dangerous, and I’ve watched a number of churches that I am connected with, who have Godly leaders and wonderful congregations, encounter massive problems because they have not recognized the need to address a serious cultural shift.

Then, there are some in the emerging & missional church community who seem to be pushing the pendulum as far the other way as possible. They want wholesale change. In their opinions, church services, structures, and ministries should look radically different, our current model can’t work very much longer, and if leaders don’t get on the ball, the Church will not last another 10 years. I wish this was an exaggeration of what some are saying, but sadly it’s not. These writers and thinkers don’t feel that the current church has within it a model that is sufficient to address the discontinuous change that is totally disruptive and unanticipated—change that is taking our culture from a modern to a post-modern society.

Now, here is what I believe. Yes, our culture is facing massive and rapid transition, and the church needs to be ready to address it. Yes, some of our systems and structures may be unprepared to handle many of the challenges that are coming our way. But Jesus established the church, is building the church, and is completing the church to become His bride. God knew about the current paradigm shift that would hit Western culture well before any of us had any idea that it was coming. I don’t think we need to be worried about whether the church will continue.

We are, however, called to faithfully discern how to reach the people God loves and who live within our culture that is clearly shifting. As a pastor, I am not given the task to come up with a plan about how to accomplish this and somehow get everyone to follow my strategy. As a leader I am part of a community that God has already been working in the midst of; my job is to discern, together with that community, what God has been saying and doing, and then help focus us to get in on that. That might very well mean organizational change, but only when it lines up with the purposes of God that He has already been at work revealing in a situation.

Because of this culture shift, we get to be missionaries within our own society. That is exciting. This missionary mindset—this incarnational lifestyle—can happen through a small edgy new church that meets in a pub or in an older established mega-church that has a giant campus or campuses. As long as the local church is made up of the people of God who are doing God’s work in the world (both individually and organizationally), there is great freedom concerning the style or structure of that church.

My wife, Deborah, writes the weekly email to the church we serve. This week’s note was so profound I wanted to share it with you all…..

My kids are back in school and we are getting back into our daily routine. The tree is down, the lights are off, the ornaments are packed up and the nativity scene is safely wrapped and in its box. As we were putting things away and the kids were helping, we said, “Time to put Baby Jesus back in the box.” Of course we were talking about the ceramic Baby Jesus from our manger scene, but the phrase caught my attention.

How often do I put Jesus “back in the box.”  How many times am I too busy or too scattered or too tired to take time to be with Him? And I realized the answer to that was much more than I would care to admit.

This past Sunday, we wrote letters to God, reflecting on the year gone by, and full of hope for the year ahead. It’s one of my favorite New Year’s traditions. And I loved the reading plan that Tim presented.

Snack – Meal – Feast. It encouraged me. And challenged me. I may not always have time for a feast. But I can certainly fit in a meal. Or at least a snack. Knowing that without the nourishment of spending time in the Word and with my Lord, I will waste away spiritually. And while I can survive for a bit on a snack here or there, I recognize the need for a real meal. And sometimes a great feast! I don’t want to keep Jesus in a box in the garage. I want Him to be right in the middle of my day! And that is where my strength comes from!

Whatever you are facing, whatever may come your way during 2009, may you be fed and nourished by the Word.

Yesterday Deborah shared a response with me that came to her from one of the members of the church. It seems that years ago, this lady was putting Christmas decorations away with her family. Her little boy (now in his 20′s) didn’t want to ‘un-decorate’ Christmas. The mom told her son that he could pick one decoration to keep out…and he picked Jesus, because the boy did not Jesus to go away.  They were so touched that they not only kept their nativity scene out for the months that followed, but have left it out for over 2 decades. Whenever anyone comes to the house in July and asks about the display, they have an opening to share the reality of keeping Jesus in the middle of it all throughout the year.

Thanks for the note, Deborah! Let’s remember to keep Jesus front and center all throughout the year.

New Years Eve was my birthday: I turned 40. Leading up to the big day, I had been feeling pensive about this jump into middle age. Now I’m thrilled about the next season ahead.

My wife threw an incredible surprise party for me. Most of my closest friends and family were there, and those who couldn’t attend sent notes that I will treasure for a lifetime. I received about 100 posts on my facebook wall from folks who wanted to wish me a happy birthday. The interaction with people who have touched me and who the Lord has touched through my life was priceless. It reminded me that through the last 20 years of ministry, and 40 years of life, Jesus has been gracious to work through the people He has put in my life. I encountered a tribe of folks who serve as the foundation for the second half of my life that I have every reason to expect is going to be frutiful and effective.

I believe all of that because God is so faithful, and if He has been faitfhul and intentional to provide such a great foundation, then He must be preparing to build a strong building. So now comes the fun part—and I can’t wait!