"You Can Do This..."

“A man always carries a wallet, wears a belt and looks another man in the eye with a firm handshake.” I grew up hearing this—ever since I could walk! It’s my dad’s credo…the foundational principle and basis of his belief structure on real manhood. And he has hammered this home for as long as I can remember. As I grew older I pushed back on some of it. I’ve worn only jeans since the 7^th grade, so I hated wearing  a belt (and never needed to until age eroded what little butt I had). I now wear one simply out of necessity—to keep me from "baggin' and saggin'". I also hate carrying around a wallet. It feels like I’m sitting on half a phonebook when I’ve got one crammed in my back pocket (most likely age-related, too).

But the firm handshake and looking someone in the eye…that, I stick with.

Which is what I did, over-and-over again this past weekend, as Jim Burgen wrapped up the Reverse Engineering series—ending each service with a challenge and a commitment…and a pledge. Jim asked the men of Flatirons to come forward to the front of the auditorium, step across a thin red line on the floor (a “line in the sand”—marking life before and life after the commitment), read and sign a resolution—promising to be the husband, the father, and the friend God calls us to be…and then, to get a black wristband with a thin red line to signify your commitment.

IT…WAS…POWERFUL.

I had a front row seat to the whole thing because I had the privilege of joining some other guys (staff and ministry team leaders) who got to stand behind a table, look these men in the eye and shake their hand, and then give them their Thin Red Line wristband. The reactions and responses from the men who came forward over the weekend ran the full gamut of emotion:

Men who were almost giddy and exuberant with joy…

Men who solemnly and purposely stepped over the red line to the table…

Men who could barely stand, quaking at the significance of the moment…

But the one who is etched in my mind…the man who I’ll remember forever…is the guy who came up to me, signed his name and reached out his hand with a terrified, almost stunned look on his face. You could tell…this was a HUGE step.

I took his hand (and following what my dad taught), grasped it firmly, looked him in the eye and said, “God bless you. You’re a good man. You can do this.”

At this, the man looked deep in my eyes, as if searching me, to see if I knew something that he didn’t. We stood there for a long moment…his hand clamping down on mine…not wanting to let go. I shook his hand again and reiterated, “You can do this.” Then, his stunned and terrified face sort of melted away into a slight smile. He slowly nodded his head, let go of my hand, took his wristband and disappeared into the throng of guys waiting their turn.

To my knowledge, I’d never seen that man before, but to me, he represents us all—every man who walks through the doors of Flatirons; stunned and terrified by the responsibility laid out before us during this last “man” series…looking for hope and confirmation from someone else…for someone to look us in the eye and say, “You can do this.”

I can’t wait to see what happens in the lives of the people at Flatirons from this point on. I firmly believe that we will see God do great things through what we’ve gone over the last 8 weeks in Reverse Engineering.

And to all the guys who missed out or who needed to catch up on the weeks that they’ve missed…or who just weren’t ready…we’ll be set up and waiting for you in the lobby…from this weekend on…waiting for you to step across that thin red line…sign your name to the roster and make your commitment…get your wristband...a firm handshake…and hear someone tell you…

“You can do this…”

A Torque Wrench, an Old Man and the Son of God

We've got another guest blog this week. This one comes from our good friend Kevin Vannorsdel. Kevin's our group leader for the Theology On Tap at the Rock Bottom in Westminster. Whether you're a "gear head" or not...you're going to love this. Enjoy.

--Dan  

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So, something has been troubling me lately.  A torque wrench.  I bought a nice one a few years back so that I could tighten nuts and bolts "the right way". For those who don't know what I am talking about, a torque wrench is both a wrench and a measurement device. You can set it to a particular tightness level by adjusting a knob at the end of the handle.  Then you stick a socket on the other end and start ratcheting away. When the tightness of the bolt reaches the preset target, the wrench either clicks or beeps or something like that. Almost all fasteners have torque specs and to "do it right"—you've just got to have this tool. But not only do you need the tool—you need the tool to be accurate. 

What's been bugging me about this torque wrench is that the last few times I tightened my lug nuts, the wrench clicked before I had hardly applied any torque at all. It could be that I am just getting stronger in my old age, but it also could be that my precious, highly expensive wrench is malfunctioning. But how can I check it? I mean, the torque wrench is SUPPOSED to be my reference device. You buy one because it itself, is accurate. What should I do—buy another torque wrench and compare it to this one? How would I know if the new one is accurate? Can I get this thing calibrated somehow? And just WHY should I be going through this—the reason I bought this thing was to never worry again about getting bolts and nuts tightened just right!  Such trouble...my reference device cannot be trusted.

I met my friend Bernie back in 1996. I had moved into his house with two other guys back in California. It was a great house. It had a hot tub, a pool, and a three-car garage. It was kind of the church party house back in those days. One time we had over 100 people there for a Halloween party. The cops showed up—it was fantastic! Bernie and I got to be good friends. We were both gear heads and decided to pool our resources and buy a sand rail dune buggy. We lived only a few hours from Pismo beach and only a few more from the sand capital of America: Glamis, CA.

Bernie is a mechanical engineer and a former mechanic. He knew a lot about torque wrenches and that sort of thing and together we did a lot of work on that car. It was a bit of a vicious cycle:  break it…fix it…repeat!  I miss those simpler days—and I often think of the things I learned from Bernie. Not only how to use a torque wrench, but also how to be a good Christian. It was under Bernie's leadership that I preached my very first "sermon" at a homeless shelter in San Jose. He is now doing full time missions overseas. We still talk about cars and tools—but more often, we talk about the Bible, theology and Jesus. Bernie is a good man. Someone who follows Jesus “reliably”. A role model I can trust. A good reference—better than my torque wrench.

How did Bernie become such a good Christian man? I suspect it has something to do with his dad. Jerry is an amazing guy. He is so old. I don't even know how old he is. He kind of walks hunched over and has a lot of wrinkles. His hands are huge and show the marks of a working man. This guy has tools—and every tool he has is top-notch. I used to envy his chop saw and still wish I had that sink in the back that would squirt out solvent—making washing parts so easy! The things that man has built over the years are amazing!  And as far as I know—he's still building things.  Just a couple years ago I was out to visit and this guy was working on replacing the engine in a motor home.  He must have been like 85 years old…still doing stuff.  I want to be like him.  But more important than Jerry's ability to make cool things is his devotion to his savior, Jesus. Now, I don't know Jerry all that well actually.  But he has become my number one human role model. I've spoken of him a few times when this topic comes up in various circles. 

Jerry talks slowly, but when he does, you listen. His words are clear and every one of them drips with some morsel of wisdom. Whether it’s about how to doctor up some salsa or how to approach some problem in life—you listen. It's hard for me to convey the picture accurately to you here, and that is not my goal actually. The point I am trying to make is that for me, having a role model like Jerry is a fantastic thing. Even though I don't necessarily consult him when I face a difficult issue—I often think, “I wonder what Jerry would do in this situation.”  It always helps.   He is a good reference for me.

Human role models (I think) are extremely important to locate. Bernie and Jerry are just that: human. They are not perfect references. I suppose they are more like my torque wrench than anything.

You know what I am going to say next…Jesus is our perfect reference.

It kind of sounds like a Sunday School answer from when we were kids, but Jesus is God in a human form (see Philippians 2). It's a beautiful thing—God actually came down here and walked around as a human so that we could observe, and see how best to live our lives as humans. Jesus is both God and Man. Strange, right? Those in theology call it: The "Hypostatic Union"—sounds like the name of the sweetest tool ever, right?  I'd love to write about that, but it will have to wait for another time. The point here is that God provided an example for us in Jesus. The perfect reference device. Someone we can all strive to be like. I appreciate that.  

The trouble is that Jesus doesn't exactly walk among us these days. It is hard to pattern yourself after someone you can't see or be around. Thankfully we have the Bible. The first four books of the New Testament chronicle the life of Jesus—each from the viewpoint of a different author. In some sense, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John all say the same thing. You can read just one of them and you'll have a pretty good picture of the life of Jesus here on earth…what He did and how He acted.

There are a lot of people saying a lot of things about Jesus these days. WWJD is all over the place. Everyone presumes to know what Jesus would do. But do they? Do they really? My interaction with people tells me that many don't really have a good picture of what Jesus was really like. I think it's because precious few have actually studied Him. If you (like me) haven't read one of the gospels in awhile—why not commit to doing so sometime in the next few weeks.  Pick Mark maybe—it is likely the first one written. Any of them will provide a new or recalibrate an existing reference for you. It'll give you an example of how to act…how to live.   It'll provide you a reference that'll never let you down.

Now…about that torque wrench…

Jesus Wept (Chuck Burgen 1933-2012)

Death is just part of life, right? I mean, all of us have experienced it in some form or fashion; whether we've lost a dearly loved family member or the family dog, cat or hamster. Either way, we know the pain and ache of loss. And I don't care what the circumstances might be. It always hurts.

Twenty-some years ago, my grandfather died after an excruciating battle with esophageal cancer. The last three months of his life were the worst. Radiation and chemotherapy had left him frail and emaciated—a skeletal shadow of the wirer-y muscled farmer he had once been. And as thankful as we all were when Grandpa Foote died (easing his pain and suffering), it was still a mournful day at his funeral. Our family laughed and reminisced about life with him throughout the calling hours and...we cried, equally as much, at the family cemetery where we buried him.

I've thought a lot about this since Monday, January 30^th. That morning Jim Burgen sent word out that his dad, Chuck, had died. Chuck had really left his mark on our church—not only because of the son he raised, but also because of his inspirational testimony in last year's "Grow a Pair" series. But over the past few months, Chuck has been in a lot of pain, fighting through his own battle with cancer. And even though there was a great celebration of Chuck's life and legacy at Bunker Hill Christian Church in Indiana today (February 4, 2012), and the family was comforted knowing that Chuck got to see Jesus face-to-face that morning...it still hurt. Chuck still leaves behind his loving wife Ann, Jim and his sister Julie, and all the rest of the Burgen clan.

I’m sure that over the next few days, weeks and months the Burgens will continue to miss Chuck...and mourn. And you know what? Jesus does the same thing.

I take comfort knowing that Jesus understands what it's like to lose someone. The story in the Gospel of John about Jesus bringing Lazarus back from the dead is one of my favorite stories of Jesus in the Bible. Not necessarily because of the end of the story...when Lazarus is raised from the dead...but because of what happens before…when Jesus wept.

Every kid who grew up going to church having to memorize Bible verses in Sunday School knows what I mean: John 11:35 was every kid’s favorite verse in the Bible. Why? Because it’s the shortest. And I was no different. Today, though, it’s still one of my favorites. But I love it now because of what it means...and how it shows me that Jesus knows my pain and suffering when someone I love dies.

In this story, Jesus is away from home and is told that His good friend Lazarus is sick and dying. And what does He do? Does He pack up immediately and race to heal His buddy? No. Instead, Jesus basically tells everyone, "We're going to stay put. We'll get to Lazarus later...after he's dead and buried." Jesus even tells His disciples that He's going to bring Lazarus back from the dead to bring glory to God—so that they’ll truly believe in Him. But when Jesus gets to Bethany, He's met by Lazarus' sisters...and they're upset. Really upset. Lazarus is dead and in the grave...and Mary and Martha are confused…and hurt…and angry at Jesus. They want to know why He took so long getting there...because they know He could have done something... He could have healed Lazarus and kept him alive. And He didn't. We’ve all been there, right? Questioning why Jesus didn’t do something to stop a tragedy. And what does Jesus do?

“Jesus wept.” (John 11:35).

Now, I've heard all kinds of sermons where pastors and teachers have pontificated about why Jesus cried (i.e., Because He was mourning the plight of sin and death for all mankind, etc.). I don't know. Maybe. Here's what I think, though: I think Jesus was just sad. I think He was mourning. I think (knowing full-well He was going to bring Lazarus back from the dead) Jesus was doing exactly what God says we should do when we love each other. We should “…rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn…” (Romans 12:15)

Even when our faith in Jesus is rock-solid…and when we know that our dead family and friends are in a better place with Jesus...it still hurts. It's still hard saying goodbye. We know we're going to miss having them around. And Jesus not only sympathizes with us...He empathizes with us too (Hebrews 4:14-15). He knows exactly what it's like to mourn a loved one.

I take great comfort in that. And I know that the Burgen family does too. Chuck’s funeral (from start to finish) echoed Chuck’s love for Jesus…and his love for others. It was a great old-school, Midwest, small church funeral and celebration—held in a church at the top of a hill that was established over 150 years ago…a gravesite service at the family cemetery (a stone’s throw from the church’s front steps)…and a full-on potluck dinner…served by church ladies. It was just as Chuck requested; simple…and always pointing to Jesus.

And Jesus was there—to be sure…comforting and supporting the Burgens. Jesus was surely there…and even though Chuck was standing at Jesus’ side the entire time…I am also convinced that Jesus was standing alongside of Ann, Jim, Julie and the rest of the family and…

Jesus wept.     

--Dan