I grew up in Menomonee Falls, WI…, and Linda in St. Paul, MN. We met in River Falls, WI, 30 miles from St. Paul. I was studying at the university…, and she was visiting friends. We were married there in March 1970.

We came to know the Lord Jesus Christ as our Savior in the summer of 1972. We had purchased a farm 15 miles west of Merrill, WI. It covered 80 acres… and came with a big house, barn, granary, and tractor… all in a state of abandonment.

But we saw our future there. We dreamed of getting back to the land… an organic food farm… the freedom of self-sufficiency… a small community of others who shared our vision… and, most of all, a measure of inner peace that constantly eluded us.

The 60’s had a significant impact on us. We were both avid readers of classical literature, Russian authors, philosophy, contemporary poetry, Tibetan mysticism, and Zen Buddhism — particularly authors D.T. Suzuki and Alan Watts. During that winter, we took turns reading out loud until we finished Doctor Zhivago by Boris Pasternak. Our reading blended well with the snowstorms and sub-zero temperatures taking turns on the other side of the window.

The more I applied myself, the more a sensation of despair overtook me. I became aware that I was utterly incapable of attaining harmony with God… with truth… or with self. I studied some Baháʼí writings a friend had given me. I even tried reading the Bible, which was about as satisfying as deciphering a Mayan hieroglyph.

By the end of that winter, we began investing in livestock for our farm. We bought a goat… a good package deal that included two kids and a daily portion of milk. The man selling them was a Jesus follower and pastor of a nearby mission church. The total price was $25.00. At that time, I was working as a milkman for a local dairy. We agreed to give him $5.00 every payday until our debt was cleared.

So, guess what he talked about during our visits? He was never imposing, though… he didn’t have to be. We were generous with our questions and objections, too.

Little by little, the simple testimony of what God had done for us through the sacrifice of his Son won us over. Everything wrong in us could be defined with a single word: sin. Everything we lacked could be found in a single person: Jesus Christ. It wasn’t long before we opened our hearts to this message and surrendered our lives to him.

That summer was the turning point in our lives. It became clear to us how mistaken we had been. Deifying self in our search for a meaningful life was an untenable posture. True meaning does not come through our own efforts… even less by denying or emptying ourselves. Real life is ours when we receive what is lacking. When we welcomed Jesus Christ into our lives, the emptiness within was filled.

“For in Him dwells all the fullness of the Godhead bodily; and you are complete in Him, who is the head of all principality and power.” (Colossians 2:9-10, NKJV)

Why is it that only by Jesus Christ can we be filled and made complete?

He is the only door into the kingdom of God because only he is capable of opening it. He is God the Son… co-eternal with the Father and the Spirit… as thoroughly God as the Father and the Spirit. His sacrifice on the cross was unique… authentically vicarious. Yes, he died because he “so loved the world.” (John 3:16). But what he accomplished benefits us because his sacrifice was the direct, complete payment for our sin.

And this didn’t come out of nowhere. It was in fulfillment of ancient prophecies recorded in the Old Testament… like this one from the prophet Isaiah nearly eight centuries before it happened:

But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace…All we like sheep have gone astray; we have turned—every one—to his own way; and the LORD has laid on him the iniquity of us all. (Isaiah 53:5-6, ESV)

Jesus’ own words brought down hatred and mockery upon him.

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. (John 14:6, ESV)

“I am the way” … The ranting of a lunatic? The lies of a charlatan? Or, God incarnate proclaiming absolute truth? Jesus is God, or he is nobody—no middle ground… no other choice.

In the New Testament, the Apostle Paul declares:

For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God. (1 Peter 3:18, ESV)

No one else could have done this. And there is no need to repeat it. You can’t perfect perfection — one sacrifice, one time, and for all. The last thing Jesus said on the Cross was, “IT IS FINISHED.” Putting down his life and taking it up again three days later was precisely what he had promised to do; he left no room for doubt about who he was and what he had come to do for us.

Because of his sacrifice, we have been granted the offer of forgiveness… the hope of a life worth living… the certainty of being with God forever.

My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me. I give them eternal life, and they will never perish, and no one will snatch them out of my hand. (John 10:27-28, ESV)

Ask yourself the same question that troubled Pontius Pilate. You will never face a more important one. Your future and your eternity will depend on your answer.

What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ? (Matthew 27:22, ESV)

The Apostle John declares:

Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God. (John 3:18, ESV)

At this point in my life, it is even clearer to me that the decision we made that summer on the farm was the most important one we would ever make. It had the greatest impact on our lives and radically changed our future. How could we have imagined going to other countries to share this good news with others… investing in lives wooed by the call of the same Spirit, and seeing believers formed into groups worthy of being called churches?

We went through many experiences and trials…, and we learned a lot. But we never regretted our initial decision to give ourselves to Christ… and personally embrace his call to go and make disciples of all nations.

And how shall they preach unless they are sent? As it is written: “HOW BEAUTIFUL ARE THE FEET OF THOSE WHO PREACH THE GOSPEL OF PEACE, WHO BRING GLAD TIDINGS OF GOOD THINGS!” (Romans 10:15, NKJV)

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I’m writing this as I enjoy being out on our roofed deck. It’s my favorite spot to sit, think, write, and sip hot coffee. The deck overlooks a green space replete with deciduous trees and creeping blackberries. It slopes steeply down to a creek, which we should start hearing again soon.

Fall is here in all of its splendor and northwest wetness. I love the gray, the steady rain, the damp cold, the falling leaves, and the shorter days. The chattering birds sound like they enjoy it as much as I do. I’m looking forward to being out in it later for exercise.

The wind is gusting now. I might have to move inside to warm up, but I can afford to gut it out a while longer. I’m sitting 8’ from warmth and dryness.

And that forces me to remember…

I live in a house I can call home… in a place now where I am free from the agonies of passports and visas. I’m no longer called “Gringo.” And Carol would have said no one pointed at her anymore and called her “Gaijin.”

Many people only dream of a place to call home… a safe space protected from the elements. For some, a tarpaper shack with a dirt floor would be a relief. Uprooted… no place to be… little food or water…, and no prospects. We count them by the millions now…, and it’s almost incomprehensible.

Add to their travail the reality of rejection. In country after country, nationalistic protectionism and economics take precedence over compassion. The assumption of an underlying respect for the dignity of fellow humans is just that… an ephemeral assumption… as distant from reality as a fairy tale.

My eyes burn, and my heart bleeds from the memory of displaced people under a bridge on the Texas side of the border with Mexico… herded and beaten back by uniforms on horseback… like something not quite as human as the rest of us. And this stuff happens in “God’s country” — as some have dared to label the USA.

The breadth and depth of injustice will always exceed our capacity for making things right. It will take the return of the King of kings to make the crooked paths straight. What a wonderful day that will be…!

Meanwhile, coldheartedness and Christlikeness are never compatible traits. A blind eye, a “God bless you” with a tinge of pity, and prayer are inadequate responses from a Jesus lover—to say nothing of treating other humans like our civil governments often do.

The Bible describes the fruit of God’s righteousness in those who belong to him. He transforms the way we interact with the disadvantaged and dispossessed.

He [the righteous man] has distributed freely; he has given to the poor. (Psalms 112:9, ESV)

She [the righteous woman] opens her hand to the poor and reaches out her hands to the needy. (Proverbs 31:20, ESV)

Sobremesa (after-meal table talk)

I have wondered if my Sobremesa thoughts seem too insular. It can’t always be about a meal or coffee with people we already know and have fun with.

Here’s a thought… how about inviting someone to eat who actually needs to eat? That would change the dynamic for many of us. The conversation would undoubtedly go in a different direction. We might learn new things about people… and about ourselves, too. Who knows, maybe it would push us out of a waiting-for-a-door-to-open mode into a which-door-to-walk-through-first mode.

One person at a time… one meal at a time… one friend at a time… one disciple at a time. And the glory of it is… One true disciple turns into more than one…!

I praise you, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made. (Psalms 139:14, ESV)

As we climb out of the valley of a health crisis, the Psalmist’s declaration is a good starting point for reflection. Our individuality and uniqueness unfold from two directions. They seem to be polar opposites, but in God’s hands they are majestically complementary. He is the ultimate artisan.

We feel the dark side first. Mortality and the apparent randomness built into our temporal existence disfigure us in individuated fashion. We are shaped by pre-sets we had no hand in choosing — place of birth, language, color of skin, physical maladies, cultural idiosyncrasies… the list is long. And while we live, we remain exposed to pain and loss… disease, natural disasters, politicians, borders, war, famine, victimization, genocide… so many things beyond our control.

We are each a distinct composite of how life happened to us… and, how we chose to deal with it. We have been broken and warped beyond our comprehension.

But that’s not the whole story.

We are fearfully and wonderfully made. Incomprehensible as it seems, our fragility and brokenness are part of God’s story. It’s a story about redemption. He came to seek and to save that which was lost. The personal disaster of us, interwoven with the restorative purposes of the Spirit, fashion a nuanced tapestry of life, love and grace… the likes of which no man-made religion can replicate.

The Master Artisan is the ultimate perfectionist. If he were human, we might wonder if he weren’t a little OCD. He never stops tweaking. Since he is the God of the dead as well as of the living, we should relax. He is a better long range planner than we are. His designs will work better than ours… and we will be amazed by the results.

Our tapestry’s look is fluid. With the passage of time, brightly colored patterns are supplanted by pastels… distinct lines blanch to blended subtleties. God values us in our old age as much as he always has… even as he orchestrates our physical decline.

At any given point on our continuum, we can be grateful for what the Artisan has done so far. Greg and Carol are who we are because of who we were. And paradoxically, we look back 30-40 years and realize how unfinished our tapestries were. Knowing he’s not finished yet keeps our hope burning bright.

Sobremesa (after-meal-table-talk)

If I’m God’s unfinished tapestry with only the slightest clue about how the completed masterpiece will look, then so are the people at table with me. He’s doing a unique work in each of us… a tapestry of love unfolding in ways we scarcely understand.

Quality sobremesa times remind me: the best thing I can do is get out of the way. I have come to fear the brutishness of thinking I have a handle on what people need to hear from me. No pretention is needed… no personal agenda to impose… no conditions attached to my love for the rest at the table.

Let’s just eat together! Good food provides the setting... it predisposes the heart.

He did good by giving you rains from heaven and fruitful seasons, satisfying your hearts with food and gladness. (Acts 14:17, ESV)

Let’s ooh and aah a lot at the tapestries of each other’s lives. Let’s infuse each other with hope as we cede control of our lives to God today… and again tomorrow.

Who knows where it might lead…

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Our View From The Rim

Do not neglect to show hospitality to strangers,… Remember those who are in prison, as though in prison with them, and those who are mistreated. (Hebrews 13:2-3, ESV)

Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to fall, and I am not indignant? (2 Corinthians 11:29, ESV)

It’s a suffering, unredeemed world out there… so many people who need Christian hospitality extended to them. Real Christian living means attending to real human plights screaming in our ears and pounding on our gates.

How can we possibly politicize human suffering? Jesus didn’t. 

He was…a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief… Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows; yet we esteemed him stricken, smitten by God, and afflicted. (Isaiah 53:3-4, ESV)

We can’t fix the unspeakable miseries fleshed out in living color before our eyes every day. But Jesus can. He found his way to the bottom of the pile… got himself underneath every last gram of pain in every human heart. He bore the weight of it all in his body on the cross… paid for our sin… bought our redemption… infinite, perfect love.

He is able to save to the uttermost those who draw near to God through him. (Hebrews 7:25, ESV)

The Gospel is still good news! Through the sacrifice and resurrection of the Son, the indescribable depths of deprivation and tragedy can be assuaged forever.

Barbarity, fanaticism and injustice will be part of our story until Jesus returns. In the meantime, we have an example to follow. As Jesus opened the gates of heaven to us, we should open our hearts and homes to others.

Christ-like people live out Christ-like compassion.

Like it or not, the real world has invaded our comfort zone.  It’s no longer enough to be comfortable in a comfortable church, sitting comfortably with family and friends who help us feel more comfortable… and praying for God’s mercy to shore up the comfort we’ve come to see as normal. Maybe we should check ourselves into rehab… seek help to get clean from our addiction to personal security and comfort.

Who needs our hospitality? My list starts with people in crisis in their spiritual journey, people devastated by natural disasters, people victimized by the viciousness of others, immigrants with no safe place to be, refugees uprooted from their homeland… 100,000,000 and counting…!

Hunkered down or hospitable?

We all get to choose. We can bar the gates and hunker down in total defensive mode. We can choke on false narratives regarding immigrants. It doesn’t even take a Christian to do that. Or we can choose to extend our personal hospitality to others in need. It’s what Jesus followers do. The loving action of taking someone in yields life-changing blessings with eternal consequences. It’s a chance for another soul to meet our Savior.

Sobremesa is risky business. It stretches us beyond what we choose. It leads us into more deeply committed levels of hospitality. We will be compelled to serve others beyond the confines of coffee and pastry at our convenience.

We should always remember how quickly it could be our turn to be destitute… suddenly dependent on the mercy of other human beings to survive. How exceedingly grateful we would feel toward anyone who helped us!

Now is not the time to hunker down. Now more than ever, people we were intended to reach with the Gospel are showing up on our doorsteps. Do we shun them? Or do we thank God for the opportunity to love and serve them?

Who knows whether you have not come to the kingdom for such a time as this? (Esther 4:14, ESV) 

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My Passion

I think it was in the right place — even in the beginning. People needed Jesus. I wanted people to love him more than anything. I wanted them to see that being religious and loving Jesus are two distinct universes. “Life for a look…!” is so much better than “do all this stuff until you die and then we’ll see...”

"But what God foretold by the mouth of all the prophets, that his Christ would suffer, he thus fulfilled."  (Acts 3:18, ESV)

"For Christ also suffered once for sins, the righteous for the unrighteous, that he might bring us to God.”  (1 Peter 3:18, ESV)

"For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law."  (Romans 3:28, ESV)

My Confession

Nonetheless, I had stumbled into a preaching style that got in the way of my heart’s desire… more bombastic than substantive. At a minimum, it was misguided enthusiasm, but I’m afraid it was more than that. A more thorough take would include something about my pridefulness, cultural affectations, peer pressure, and lack of insight regarding genuine communication skills.

My reading last week took me to these words:

My use of language in the community of faith was a mirror image of the culture: a lot of information, a lot of publicity, not much intimacy. My ministry was voiced almost entirely in the language of description and of persuasion.

Eugene H. Peterson. The Contemplative Pastor: Returning to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Kindle Locations 823-825). Kindle Edition. 

Changes have come slowly. Sometimes, I still get in the way of the Good News I’m supposed to be sharing. When I think about where I should be, I feel like I’m not even potty trained yet.

I wasn't giving people much help in developing and using the language that was basic to both their humanity and their faith, the language of love and prayer.

Eugene H. Peterson. The Contemplative Pastor: Returning to the Art of Spiritual Direction (Kindle Locations 826-827). Kindle Edition. 

I might be better at teaching Spanish than teaching the language of love and prayer… maybe because I spent more time learning Spanish.

I grew up in a religious framework where you had to memorize and repeat prayers. Prayer should be heart-to-heart conversation. But in my case, breaking free from the formalism translated into not making real prayer and real love for people the first things.

A dear pastor/friend pointed us to a compilation of Puritan prayers called Valley of Vision. Steeped in theology, they pierce to the core of my sinfulness. Reciting prayers still turns me off. But here’s a tool to stretch my praying. It points to things I don’t usually remember to pray about.

My Love Language

My love language would not qualify as verbal. It’s more like a pre-schooler’s picture book. Freeze-frames of faces I recognize… lives now speaking for themselves through the language of love and prayer. It’s a language only God can teach them. And I love that they have learned it well.

He must increase, but I must decrease. (John 3:30, ESV)

I have been crucified with Christ. (Galatians 2:20, ESV)

Whether we live or whether we die, we are the Lord's. (Romans 14:8, ESV)

My brothers, whom I love and long for, my joy and crown. (Philippians 4:1, ESV)

For now we live, if you are standing fast in the Lord. (1 Thessalonians 3:8, ESV)

It’s the language of “Abba! Father!”… the one language I wish to master over any other.

Sobremesa (after-meal, table-talk) is harder… and easier. It’s harder to be bombastic and imperious breaking bread together. It’s easier to be empathetic and loving over coffee. Intimacy, loving acceptance, and joyful celebration… a foretaste of heaven itself. It’s so worth the stretch…!

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The Gospel came to you because it was heading to someone else.

A dear friend recently sent me a book on discipleship. A refreshing read…  Nothing new, but I’ve always wished I had embraced these principles much sooner. 

A few years after settling in the Yucatan Peninsula of Mexico, we met believers near Mexico City who were doing it right. We were received with much graciousness and generosity of spirit. We came away with a living illustration of what making disciples looks like.

I felt like I had been doing Blindfolded Discipleship … I didn’t know what I was missing.

Everyone says the church isn’t the building. So… how come no one tries church without a building? Imagine church reduced to nothing but people and the homes they live in.

But building/no building is a surface issue. Our reluctance to pursue the primitive church model for growing disciples runs deeper. For starters…

Inertia

It’s a powerful thing. I’m in my 70’s… ask me if it’s easier or harder now to get out for exercise than when I was 40. Once we’re settled, we like settled. Getting out of our chair is a process. Comfortable deadens us. We thank God for comfortable and settledness. We are content because we don’t need anything… or so we think. Remember the church in Laodicea? (Revelation 3:14-19)

"For you say, I am rich, I have prospered, and I need nothing, not realizing that you are wretched, pitiable, poor, blind, and naked."  (Revelation 3:17, ESV)

The longer we settle for settled, right angle turns and risk-taking become less appealing. With time, our aversion to “new” has us saying… “but we’ve always done it this way.”

(Tevye)
Tradition. Without our traditions, 
Our lives would be as shaky as... as a fiddler on the roof!
Fiddler on the Roof - Tradition

Pride

We have a saying in Spanish… “Timidity (shame) is pride’s first cousin.”

It’s not easy to try new things… especially when we thought we were ok as worshipers and givers. It’s hard to admit we have little experience with the “personal” part of personal evangelism. We don’t know how to talk to “those people,” do we?

 We didn’t intentionally refuse… we just let good things crowd out the first thing. If we try to do it now, we might make fools of ourselves. What if people laugh at us?

Fear

We are all naturally averse to personal accountability. Even though it’s the undergirding for genuine disciple-making, it’s the overriding reason we’re not interested. We are all like Adam… when we sin, we hide in the bushes. What if people found out who we really are? How can we make disciples if we’ve never really been one?

The second Adam—Jesus Christ—has better things in store for us. Confessing sin and incompetence is humbling, but well worth the pain. Blessings and joy will be the fruit of letting God grow us. We will thrive on watching God bring blessings and joy to others through us… conduits for the Gospel!

Sobremesa (after-meal table talk)

I can still hear the words of my dear friends in Mexico… “Do you want to start a traditional church or do you want to make disciples?” 

We have enough traditional churches rendered anemic by the scarcity of true disciples. If we make discipleship the first thing, we’ll end up with the healthiest kind of churches.

Sobremesa times can be the best times. They promote keeping things real. They are the best format for reminding one another of why God left us here after he saved us. 

The Gospel came to you because it was heading to someone else.

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The rim of Mt. St. Helens points to the desire of our website…  to speak from the broadest, clearest view possible. It’s a battle… lots of foggy, rainy days… and, sadly, too many sunny days spent looking in and down… instead of out and up. 

It’s a fleeting experience. The moments I think I do see clearly, I wish I could sing like Jimmy Cliff…! I CAN SEE CLEARLY NOW

Seeing clearly means connecting origins with consummations… watching an unchanging God carry out his purposes through all generations and tongues and nations... embracing our tiny place in space as part of an infinitely greater whole… discovering what kind of work produces the best, eternal yield. 

How great are his signs, how mighty his wonders! His kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion endures from generation to generation. (Daniel 4:3, ESV)

Earthly kingdoms go away. God’s kingdom never goes away. 

It’s in our midst. 

What do we want to be when we grow up? The answer matters. Do we want to live in harmony with God’s eternal purposes or get suckered into the pettiness of choosing sides in the perennial soap opera of human conflict?

We should be careful about boundaries. We seem oblivious to the need for clear boundaries between God’s kingdom and earthy kingdoms. We should not accede to a miniaturized version of kingdom transmogrified by our favorite brand of earthly kingdom-ness.

God patiently exercises his will, age upon age, always with his own endgame in sight. He is the supreme example of patience. For how many millennia has he been orchestrating his unfolding drama with perfect attention to detail?

God builds his spiritual kingdom on earth through vibrant relationships with individuals. it’s heart work… it’s a lifetime of work in us. It’s patient work… very patient. We should be encouraged because there is no one more patient and self-assured than God.

Sobremesa (after-meal, table-talk) is the outgrowth of a clearer line of sight… an eye for the long haul. It’s the part of God’s endgame that pertains to providing the foundation and the means for relationship with him. The foundation was poured at the foot of the cross. The means include you and me… coming to a place where we can say with the Apostle Paul, “imitate me!” Sobremesa means quality people-time.

A clear view from the rim reveals three things worthy of a lifetime of passion and commitment:  the cross... our witness… growing relationships.

Patience is often about putting up with stuff… waiting… not faltering in the midst of trial. But James talks here about God-like patience… steadfastness with an eye on the endgame… patience unto death.

Patience is our mandate… our calling… our privilege. Patience is our birthright.

And let steadfastness have its full effect.  (James 1:4, ESV)

Sometimes we give up on people even though Jesus doesn’t. He showed us how it’s better to let steadfastness have its full effect. He exercised divine patience with his disciple Peter because his plans for Peter had been determined before Peter existed… and in spite of Peter’s blunders. Jesus didn’t give up on him… he wasn’t even surprised. He still included him and used him. Where would the New Testament be without his two letters?

God’s promise is sure… we only need to be clear about how we define “well doing”… it needs to be in sync with God’s endgame.

And let us not be weary in well doing: for in due season we shall reap, if we faint not.  (Galatians 6:9, KJV)

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Bigger, Better, Faster, More! by 4 Non Blonds… was an edgy, 90’s, alt-rock album. It included their hit song, “What’s Up?”

I’ve always wanted to use the album’s title for a blog post. Bigger, Better, Faster, More! epitomizes a predominant force in American culture. It’s been like a toxic chemical spill in American church culture as well.

Living outside of the United States for over 40 years meant plenty of space to reflect on what essential Christianity should look like.

Checking out new cars in Mexico used to be pretty straightforward… you had two options—equipped or austere. “Equipped” was a car including everything you could think of. Austere meant you got what you needed to get from Point A to Point B… nothing more… standard transmission, no AC, no tinted glass, hand crank windows, push button locks… wheels with cheap tires… no power brakes… and no power steering—the kind that made beefing up at the gym unnecessary.

Fully equipped or austere—huge difference between the two… except in one important area—getting from Point A to Point B. It took about the same length of time, in the same traffic conditions, and subject to the same traffic laws. The difference between the two models narrowed down to a question of comfort and image.

How do you take your Christianity... fully equipped or austere? Americanized or the back-to-basics version? I find fully equipped Christianity to be detrimental in ways the Point A to Point B variety is not.

Jesus commands us to make disciples. Making a disciple is a nuanced, Spirit-guided process requiring constant tweaking on the fly. It presupposes the need for genuine friend-making in an intensely personal, private setting. That means one-on-one. Bigger, Better, Faster, More! is not a compatible driving force in essential Christianity.

It may be a function of a different season in my life… but I’m feeling less preoccupied with growing a wider sphere of influence. I’m more comfortable than ever with what Jesus has tried to teach me for decades. I’m learning that…

…small is big.

Reaching into one heart deeply… watching one person’s gaze turn toward God… spotting when someone gets hungry for serving Jesus more than self… prayerfully expectant when a spark of compassion for a lost world bursts into a glowing fire… celebrating the hopefulness of eternal fruit in a newly surrendered Gospel kingdom worker.

Why do I love Sobremesa (after-meal, table-talk)? It’s the convergence of two favorite things in my life. I like my Christianity the way I like my coffee… strong and black with nothing added. The difference I see between the typical American church experience and a quality sobremesa/discipleship time feels a lot like my car shopping experience. It narrows down to a question of comfort and image.

There is nothing wrong with being comfortable per se. The problem arises when we don’t know anything except “comfortable” long enough to stop yearning for something far better. We acquiesce to “churchy-ness” without ever experiencing the dynamism and kingdom opportunities inherent in “sobremesa-ness.”

The first thing I see when I open my laptop in the morning is my Prayer/Influence list… people who know me but probably don’t know each other. The common denominator for me is a desire to see God’s kingdom nurtured and extended through them. If I can be some small part of that… well… what more could I ever want?

I still like my own mantra better…

We’re supposed to be somebody’s Paul. Where’s our Timothy?

Website: Our View From The Rim

…even white supremacists.

Recently, a respected columnist I follow highlighted a TED Talk by Daryl Davis— “Why I as a Black Man Attend KKK Rallies”

Following an incident when he was 10 years old, he asked, “How can you hate me when you don’t even know me?”

I harbor a deep aversion to any white supremacy, Christian nationalism, or “Curse of Ham” theories. Yet I would have a hard time trying to do what Mr. Davis does… and I’m a white guy! 

Watching his story left me thinking about our Christian witness. We categorize many lifestyles, worldviews, and opinions as inconsistent with Bible teaching. How we interact with that reality is a measure of how well we emulate our Master.

The religious leaders in Jesus’ day worked overtime to find fault with him. Sometimes, it feels like they were grasping at straws…

Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!  (Luke 7:34, ESV)

These guys owned the art of public shaming. And we think “cancel culture” is a new thing…?

Cancel culture…is a modern form of ostracism… [It is] a variant on the term call-out culture and constitutes a form of boycotting or shunning. Cancel Culture

Sadly, cancel culture goes to church with us, too. It’s like thorny blackberry bushes overtaking our yard. Why do we find it easier to caricature people on the other side of an argument and treat them like the enemy?

And the Pharisees weren’t finished yet. Here’s an even sleazier headline from their gossip column… this one is almost adults only…

And the Pharisees and the scribes grumbled, saying, “This man receives sinners and eats with them."  (Luke 15:2, ESV) 

Religious people need for us to see how unspotted they are by their surroundings. So when they say “a friend of sinners” they point and say “a friend of SINNERS.” When we talk about Jesus, we smile rejoicingly and say “a FRIEND of sinners.”

What does a friend do? A friend receives us. A friend eats with us. Jesus must want to be our friend because we have a standing invitation to eat with him. 

If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.  (Revelation 3:20, ESV)

Whose friend are we? Who do we eat with?

In his TED Talk, Mr. Davis sets the bar awfully high. He eats with people who think he is less than they are. He seems to think it’s worth it… maybe a few more white people can be rescued from the pit they are trapped in.

Sobremesa (after-meal table-talk) should be the tactical default setting for God’s vanguard.

Let’s take a break from religious, traditional, and churchy stuff. Let’s do what Jesus did… Let’s find some sinners to eat with. It sounds simple, but we talk more about doing it than actually doing it. Is it because we’re trying to be careful about what kind of people we’re seen with? Or maybe we’re afraid people will find out we don’t have a clue about how to talk to them. 

One thing I miss from Mexico is a “lechero” - a dose of strong coffee in a tall, thick glass filled with hot milk… add sugar to taste. Then choose a piece of fresh ‘pan dulce’ (sweet bread). But what really makes the memory is the people I share the coffee and rolls with. 

If you’re walking with Jesus… expect him to lead you to a sinner’s table… and don’t be surprised when he is not in a hurry to leave. 

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When I was a kid, Mom’s folks owned and operated a resort in Wisconsin’s Northwoods… fourteen seasons managing seven cottages nestled in a heavily wooded shoreline. They lived in the eighth one. It had a tiny office where guests picked up their key on Saturdays. It was a tight space, but enough for perusing some used paperbacks—I liked the Zane Grey novels. There was an assortment of cold drinks and ice cream bars. Remember cream sodas?

Some of my clearest recollections are connected to food… pancakes bathed in warm bacon grease and Log Cabin syrup… vanilla ice cream topped with honey… not all at the same time, of course. 

Food always came with story telling and banter on an array of topics. I can still hear Grandpa’s and Grandma’s voices. He was gruff, deliberate, dominating… she was low-volume, diminutive, but sharp-witted, opinionated… often sarcastic. He reminisced about his labor union organizing days. She read the classics… I still have some of her books. She painted and had refined tastes in music. 

Long before I was born, their story was about putting their lives on the line for a cause much bigger than themselves… a cause they passionately believed in. They unknowingly laid the groundwork for the kind of decisions I would be making not too many years later.

I grew up on the kind of after-meal table-talk (sobremesa time) I try to write about now. It was more of an influence on me than even I could have appreciated at the time. I’ve never been as good at it as they were… they were naturals.  

It’s important to me. I have lived for making disciples. There could be nothing more meaningful than introducing someone to Jesus. It took me a while to understand I wouldn’t get better at making disciples unless I got better at making friends. 

A good way to make friends—and make lasting memories with them—is through food and drink. Nearly everyone I know likes to eat… and for me, talking comes easier in an intimate setting around a table. 

When I have these opportunities, I try to remember my childhood: Other people’s stories should fascinate me. I should be a humble listener, whether I happen to agree or not with the opinions expressed. These days, I don’t like to win an argument as much as I like to see Jesus win somebody’s heart.

The great use of life is to spend it for something that will outlast it. — William James   

Legacy… feeling useful… influencing… When you are in your 70’s, you think more about stuff like this. Grandpa and Grandma never took me to Disneyland… they never bought me anything remarkable. But their legacy to me…? I wouldn’t trade it for anything. What I learned from sharing the same table or parlor with them is as much a part of who I am today as it was then.

How can I best leave my fingerprints on the memories of those I leave behind? A cottage in the Northwoods, warm bacon grease and vanilla ice cream might help, but it wouldn’t be enough. People can choose to listen or not to older folks like me. But I feel compelled to share… to be open about how I got to where I am today… victories, foibles and all. Especially, I hope the gleam in my eye when I talk about Jesus never fades.

Even if itinerating and networking were things I enjoyed, I think I would still lean more now toward the food-and-coffee times, walk-and-talk opportunities, meaningful FaceTime sessions… and rocking-chair evenings. 

It’s not about giving in to the maladies of old age… it’s about sowing deeply where it counts the most… in ways I wasn’t as capable of until now.

A good man leaves an inheritance to his children's children.  (Proverbs 13:22, ESV)

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OUR VIEW FROM THE RIM

so that through the church the manifold wisdom of God might now be made known to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.  (Ephesians 3:10, ESV)

We draw encouragement from knowing a “great cloud of witnesses" (Hebrews 12:1, ESV) watches us… like the cheering section at an athletic event. They have already passed the ultimate test. Their example of faithful-to-the-end compels us to be the same. They teach us how.

But that’s not the whole story…

In the Expositors Bible Commentary, the sub-heading for the section on Ephesians 3:10-13 is “EARTH TEACHING HEAVEN”

It turns out we also are a “great cloud of witnesses” through which God makes known his multifaceted wisdom to “rulers and authorities in the heavenly places.”

All created intelligences are in view here. When the foretelling and accomplishment of the Christian salvation are said in 1Pe 1:12 to be “things into which angels long to look,” something of the same sort is intended here. 

New International Commentary on the New Testament (Ephesians 3:10)

That sounds like:

• we are entrusted with something vital to teach others.

• there are powers in heavenly places that learn from us.

Talk about a platform…! God has already built one for us.

Nothing here compares to it. Famous people can have an impressive platform, but it’s still embarrassingly close to nothing. Maybe they get a line or two in a history book… a few reminiscences in the press.

We who embrace Christ as our Savior have a larger platform. We teach heaven. Even so, we struggle with feeling “less” because our platform appears to be an insignificant sphere of family, friends and acquaintances. It’s good to remember…

You cannot measure a man’s soul by the size of his dwelling-house.

Expositors Bible Commentary (Ephesians 3:10-13)

Our struggle for attention mellows as we garner a sense of the stage we’re already on… spotlights shining, microphone in hand, a sold-out crowd in heavenly places…  all eyes on us. Our entire Christian pilgrimage on earth is our 15 minutes of fame.

We may have no more than a notion of what it all means, but we have enough to stake our lives on. Redeemed by the blood of Christ means we are not nothing. How we live is never insignificant. 

Sobremesa (after-meal table-talk) may not appear to be more than coffee, food and garbled noise. But we should approach it with reverent awareness.

Our Gospel teaching moments reach further than we imagine. We watch people next to us being transformed. Along with that—somehow—earth teaches heaven, too. We can’t see all who watch us… or how keen they are to learn from us. Partly, they watch us because they don’t experience redemption and faith the way we do.

What happens in Las Vegas might stay in Las Vegas. But what happens at our table is known in places we haven’t even conceived of yet. 

But you, take courage! Do not let your hands be weak, for your work shall be rewarded. (2 Chronicles 15:7, ESV)

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Website: Our View from the Rim

Did you ever see the movie? Here they’re handling the nerve gas… don’t let a single ball hit the floor… it’ll melt your face off and cause horrible death and destruction.

It reminds me of how discipleship goes sometimes…

Sobremesa (after-meal, table-talk) promotes transparency. Pretty much everyone enjoys food and after-meal chatter. But the crowd thins when things start sounding like real discipleship. Much like how… 

We smile when we meditate on Jesus’ invitation to eat with him:

If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.  (Revelation 3:20, ESV)

We cringe when we meditate on Jesus’ call to follow him:

So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.  (Luke 14:33, ESV) 

Discipleship isn’t for everyone. Discipleship isn’t easy because it requires humility. Humility isn’t easy because it requires transparency. 

The need for transparency is a big part of why so few want to pay the price to become real disciples… It’s also the reason there are too many mentors who shouldn’t be mentoring—at least not yet—and not enough for-real mentors.

Humility and transparency are harder for people in positions of authority. They have an image to maintain. They think if people really knew who they were, they might be asked to step down. That isn’t necessarily how it should be, but that’s often how it is.

Humility and transparency are hard for people because… well…we’re all people. We don’t communicate perfectly… serve others purely… react exactly like Jesus would… nor stop with the “gotcha” mentality… you know… when your juicy little secret feeds my evil inner child who thrives on feeling one up on you.

There are all kinds of reasons why discipleship can explode in our faces. It can be painful… with lots of collateral damage. So why do we bother? 

There are a few basic things real disciple-makers keep in mind.

• We’re dead already, so what’s the big deal?
  I have been crucified with Christ. It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me. (Galatians 2:20, ESV)

• We can’t predict outcomes, so why do we have to own every mess as a personal failure?

• We know how delightful one “Timothy” can be. So much so, it’s worth whatever we risk to find one. Nothing compares…!

For what is our hope or joy or crown of boasting before our Lord Jesus at his coming? Is it not you? For you are our glory and joy.  (1 Thessalonians 2:19-20, ESV)

We’re supposed to be somebody’s Paul. So where’s our Timothy?

Here’s a link to our new “Spotlight on Compassion” page. The first installment is about vulnerable children whose lives are warped by violence and death.

SPOTLIGHT ON COMPASSION

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“Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time.” (Colossians 4:5, ESV)

Our sobremesas ought to be as inclusive as possible. That’s why I’m saying: I’m an outsider… AND you have to be nice to me. 

Everybody enjoys laid back, after-meal table-talk with our people. We can relax and just be ourselves… coffee (strong and black, please), good food, conversation… what’s not to love?

But if our hearts are set on an effective Christian presence in the real world, evaluating our weaknesses will benefit everyone. For now, I’m thinking about what happens when we don’t resist the temptation to discuss things unique to our spiritual family—in a language outsiders are not familiar with. If there is someone at table with us who is not a believer we would do well to avoid shoptalk. Otherwise, the outsider might end up feeling more “outside” than before.

Sometimes I see us inconsiderate and self-absorbed… so much so that the time spent sharing our wonderful words turns into a squandered opportunity to draw someone from outside into our circle.

When we start talking shop, do we think people around us will be impressed by our fine-tuned grasp of Scripture and sound doctrine? Their real reaction might be closer to:

• “What the___ are they talking about?”

• “Do these people think they are closer to God than I am?

• “Am I less than they are?”

Who wants to make friends with someone who makes them feel inferior?

When we are alone among unbelievers, it can be hard to find ways to contribute meaningfully to the conversation… but it might also be easier to avoid offense. On the other hand, a core of discerning disciples in the presence of just one person who is not a believer, can make a huge difference in that person’s experience at table with us. 

It’s no fun feeling like the outsider. I’m an outsider… always have been. Now I’m a veteran missionary (picture a silver-haired old guy in raggedy clothes, leaning on a crutch with a bloody rag wrapped around his head). People—including Christian people—often struggle with what to say when I tell them what I did for 40 years in another country. “Oh, that’s nice.” And then we pivot back to sports… or cars… or politics… or the weather. 

There are other factors that make me weird and unfit to be with you. I might be more strange than you imagined. But it doesn’t matter how strange I am or how uncomfortable I make you feel. There is a Biblical exhortation for you about people like me:

Walk in wisdom toward outsiders, making the best use of the time. Let your speech always be gracious, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how you ought to answer each person.  (Colossians 4:5-6, ESV) 

See? it’s right there in the Bible…

• I’m an outsider… AND you have to be nice to me.

• I often have outsiders at table with me… AND I have to be nice to them.

It takes time to have a disciple or two around us who think of the outsiders in the room first.

It takes patience to cultivate a tacit understanding in which the presence of someone new means we drop the Christian slang. Instead, we share testimonies of how Jesus found us…  how he has changed our lives… and how certain we are of our eternal destiny. Lots of hugs and kisses won’t hurt either.

In the midst of an increasingly sleepy witness for Jesus among “normal” Christians, we might look radical… but we will look attractive and welcoming to outsiders.

Sobremesa: It should be one of the most inclusive things we do. There is joy in heaven when a sinner repents. (Luke 15:7) There is joy in our hearts when an outsider becomes one of us.

VERSION EN ESPAÑOL

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My failed attempts at disciple-making have been less about a lack of knowledge and more about my lack of brokenness.

Our call to make disciples is not enigmatically embedded in the Bible. There’s no secret code to decipher. Jesus was straightforward about it:  

However, disciple-making doesn’t just pop up spontaneously… kind of like how you don’t see a house framed in first, then the foundation.

Someone needs to "go” first…

People who do not know the Lord are not innately predisposed to seek him. People who do know the Lord experience a paradigm shift in how they think: The world is not here to serve us... we are here to serve the world. That means we go first. But let’s be clear: Going to people already congregating elsewhere is not the “going” Jesus mandated. We should go like the Apostle Paul did…

“and thus I make it my ambition to preach the gospel, not where Christ has already been named, lest I build on someone else’s foundation, but as it is written, “Those who have never been told of him will see, and those who have never heard will understand.”” (‭‭Romans‬ ‭15‬:‭20‬-‭21‬ ‭ESV‬‬)

Someone needs to go where it’s really hard to go…

• To people who know little or care nothing about our conception of God or our devotion to his words. For people like this, it’s harder to begin by talking about God or the Bible. Lifestyle and a long term commitment to selfless love of neighbor will help pave the way for building relationships and drawing people to our message.

• To people who know about Jesus but choose not to follow him. Some mistake the way of Jesus as just one more religion of “comply, behave, don’t mess up before you die… or you’ll go to hell anyway.” They haven’t seen or felt what fullness of life in Jesus is like… a life of joy, peace, hope and intimacy, while we wait to be carried into his presence forever.

• To people who have been misled—even abused—by some who claimed to be representing God. They have been betrayed in the worst possible manner.

We should go because we should. But oddly, the last thing we can do is make anybody follow Jesus. We will need more than we can give. Disciple-making will be the hardest thing we do… until it becomes the easiest thing we do.

Missionary and author Amy Carmichael (1867–1951), wrote a poem entitled, “Fire-Words”1 She cries out, “O God, my words are cold.”

Then the response comes to her…

Thou shalt have words
But at this cost, that thou must first be burnt…
Not otherwise, and by no lighter touch,
Are fire-words wrought. 

I repeat: My failures in disciple-making have been less about a lack of knowledge and more about my lack of brokenness. True brokenness is still out there on the horizon for me. Pulpiteering has not helped me with this. What helps me today is spiritual communion with others who share the same desire: “Draw me nearer, nearer blessed Lord.”2

Sometimes sobremesa (table-talk) turns into an internal wrestling match “Go, Greg… here’s the window you’ve been waiting for… do it now!” Invariably, lightness and freedom follow on the heels of true brokenness, along with a full confidence in The One who will do as he pleases with the Gospel seed.

Speaking the Gospel is never in vain.

“For Christ did not send me to baptize but to preach the gospel, and not with words of eloquent wisdom, lest the cross of Christ be emptied of its power.” (‭‭1 Corinthians‬ ‭1‬:‭17‬ ‭ESV‬‬)

The Gospel—the good news—of Jesus Christ is the source of our passion to make disciples.

but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ died for us.  (Romans 5:8, ESV)

Jesus said to him, “I am the way, and the truth, and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."  (John 14:6, ESV)

The Gospel is so clearly recorded, you would think it hardly needed explaining. We can believe a lot of things about God… we can even say we believe in God. Yet, there is only one door into the eternal kingdom of God: Jesus Christ, God the Son. “I am the way” was not the boasting of a lunatic… it was simply God Incarnate stating the facts.

He came to die… 

• in fulfillment of prophecy: “he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities.”  (Isaiah 53:5, ESV)

• for our sake: "For Christ also suffered once for sins, the just for the unjust, that He might bring us to God"  (1 Peter 3:18, NKJV)

• once for all time: "sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all."  (Hebrews 10:10, NKJV)

The root of the matter? Ask yourself the same question Pontius Pilate wrestled with…

What shall I do with Jesus who is called Christ?  (Matthew 27:22, ESV)

Why?

Whoever believes in him is not condemned, but whoever does not believe is condemned already, because he has not believed in the name of the only Son of God.  (John 3:18, ESV)

Vicarious sacrifice… the offer of forgiveness… the grace of restoration… the joy of his presence… the assurance of a life worth living, both now and forever… wow!

And if you are Christ's, then you are Abraham's offspring, heirs according to promise.  (Galatians 3:29, ESV)

The Gospel is absolute… clear… universally needed… and it’s accessible! 

This post should be the easiest of any to write… and without surprises. There’s no  room to get cute with the Gospel. Still, it is worth considering: Is our fruitfulness hampered by our constricted take on preaching? Doing the bulk of our Gospel preaching inside of church buildings feels a little self-serving… potentially stagnating… and to some degree, irresponsible.

I did not shrink from declaring to you anything that was profitable, and teaching you in public and from house to house, testifying both to Jews and to Greeks of repentance toward God and of faith in our Lord Jesus Christ.  (Acts 20:20-21, ESV)

Sharing thoughts about “sobremesa” (table-talk) before introducing this Gospel post was intentional. What if we were more prone to “declaring” like the Apostle Paul did? If we were, any setting would do… even mealtime!

Next: The fear of trashed expectations… 

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It’s always fun, but there is a caveat… 

Just because we have a great time, doesn’t mean everything is ok.

I don’t recall ever suffering through a disagreeable sobremesa (table-talk) time. And I’m sure I never had one end in a fist fight. It has always been refreshing to interact with people after a meal, second cup of coffee in hand.

However, loud banter, delicious food, and laughter are simply a drug of choice… if that’s all it is.

Bona fide disciple-makers manifest a particular facet of spiritual maturity. We are aware of our place at the table. Far from dissatisfied with the good times, we drink in the moments—just as much as everyone else does… yet we remain keen for things hidden behind the door of coffee and camaraderie.

Between the seminal moments for church and the readiness of our disciples to transition into disciple-making, there are more than a few potential stumbling blocks along the way…

• People can say they belong to Jesus when they don’t.

• People can be less hands-on with the Bible than we assume.

• People who belong to Jesus can struggle with a besetting sin.

• People who hurt can feel more alone amidst the mirth.

• People who swear allegiance to Jesus can deny him when it starts to cost them too much.

But Jesus…needed no one to bear witness about man, for he himself knew what was in man.  (John 2:24-25, ESV)

Jesus wasn’t cynical or pessimistic. He was perfectly realistic. He knew what he was dealing with. Maybe that helped him later when one week they were all about “¨Hail to the King!” and the next, “Crucify him!”

If we are realistic, it is because we never forget what we are without Christ. If we are realistic, nothing surprises or disappoints… we deal with human beings—fallen creatures just like ourselves.

Humble people speak love whenever they see an open heart, whether it’s on a stage or by a hospital bed. They speak their words quietly, whether they are in the limelight or in a dark night.

Goff, Bob. Live in Grace, Walk in Love (p. 107). Thomas Nelson. Kindle Edition.  

We don’t need to button-hole people with platitudes or stuff a tract in their pocket as we move on to our next victim. Our relaxed mindfulness will smooth the way for connection in ways non-invasive, yet with a lasting imprint.

Yes, it is prudent to assume nothing. But let’s keep reveling in our sobremesa times…. and expecting the best outcomes for the kingdom.

What has God done for us that he cannot do for others?

Next: The root of the matter…

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For most of our years in Mexico, church happened in our house. As our gatherings grew, our Sunday routine would begin on Saturday. We had to get living room, kitchen and tiny bedrooms ready. The back bathroom became the dog’s meditation room. After morning Bible study and kids’ classes, it took the afternoon to make the house our house again.

“Intimate” is not strong enough to describe those Sunday mornings. They clarified and refined our focus on what really was the Lord’s work. They were the best of times!

We were learning: my amazing preaching wasn’t stirring people to get with the program. Their lives weren’t smoothing out simply by listening better.

We were learning: real disciple-making requires building relationships… and you don’t grow relationships from behind a pulpit.

Solid exposition of the Bible is requisite… somebody has to do it. But the pulpit comes with its own set of pitfalls and shortcomings. The main pitfall: undue authority resting on the shoulders of one man or leadership team (a subject worthy of it’s own post). The main shortcoming: the not so subtle shift away from investing in relationships… the kind needed to make new friends and nurture new disciples.

Every scribe who has been trained for the kingdom of heaven is like a master of a house, who brings out of his treasure what is new and what is old.  (Matthew 13:52, ESV)

Rats… I was hoping for organized and efficient... like a how-to video on Youtube. Jesus saw it differently though.

Handling the treasure—the Word of God—requires we be appropriate every time we use it… the right words… in the right measure… at the right time.

To make an apt answer is a joy to a man, and a word in season, how good it is!  (Proverbs 15:23, ESV)

So… our modus operandi—ordained by Jesus—is being intentionally flexible… subversive almost. It requires an eye for the endgame… a proactive searching for the Spirit’s leading… patience to lead by nudges… and a loving desire to preserve relationships. 

Disciple-making is hard work. It humbles and stretches the disciple-maker in ways that preaching a sermon will not. And it’s so worth it! There is nothing more exciting than watching people enjoy discovering Jesus… and making life-altering decisions—even in the face of resistance from friends and family.

Sobremesa (sobre=over; mesa=table)—It’s our time to shine! Do you have a table? A couple of chairs? A coffee pot? A Bible? A neighbor who needs God?

Let’s plan some coffee dates! Let’s pray about the next after-meal table talk!

Next: A Dangerous assumption…

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But there is a madness to our method… because making disciples defies our idea of methodology. For example:

We have a purpose… but we don’t have an agenda.

We have a mandate to point others to Christ. We seek their growth to maturity. Maturity includes the disposition to become disciple-makers themselves.

 But making disciples is not boot camp. It’s not one-size-fits-all, break their wills, get them marching in step and responding to voice commands without hesitation.

That’s why when we meet with people, we have no agenda. It’s not simply 10 lessons in 10 weeks and on to the next level. It’s better to be in the moment, listening well, ready to walk through any opening door into a more intimate place… where the Holy Spirit wants to minister deeply and thoroughly.

We are intentional… but we don’t impose.

It’s a hard balance… If Jesus is the greatest thing happening in our lives, how can we not be enthusiastic when we talk about him? The proper balance comes from never disrespecting the personal space of our prospective disciple. 

God gave me the space to decide for myself. God gave my friend the space to seek Jesus or not. We dare not invade that sacred space. It doesn’t belong to us.

For those of us who like to use words like “effectual call,” it should be easy to get this. It should be a quiet resting place. We smile inside as we share the Gospel message… we know what the Holy Spirit can do with our words… if and when he chooses.

We love freedom… but we spurn anarchy.

Where the Spirit of God is there is liberty… but there is also no distortion… no dumbing down. If we get too creative with our freedom, we might end up looking like a bad Picasso: lots of bright colors, but what is it? Nor can we afford to let our discipleship slip into little more than a church potluck where we eat, smile and pretend we can hear the person across from us over the din… (sorry for sounding old). 

Pulpit has its place… but much of what disciple-making needs is more nuanced… and requires a different setting in order to thrive.

This is where sobremesa (sobre = over; mesa = table) comes in… 

Next: When sobremesa trumps pulpit…

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Behold, I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.  Revelation 3:20 (ESV) 

A few evenings ago, Carol and I were invited to supper. It was our first time to be in their home. Along with a delicious meal, everything around them spoke for them… the welcoming entrance, the vaulted ceiling, the open expansiveness of the kitchen, the dining room table that could comfortably seat more than 20… these folks were all about receptiveness and embracing others.

And they seemed happy to receive and embrace us, too. They asked about us. We got to know each other better. There was more going on than just small talk. It was intentional, but not invasive or agenda-driven…  a challenge at times for the best of us.

The four of us are committed to following Jesus. It was enriching to share our widely different paths to serving him while at the same time celebrating the commonality of the Spirit’s work in each of us. There was plenty of joyfulness… and a keeping-it-real attitude all around.

The Two H’s

Hospitality and humility go hand in hand. Together, they become a Jesus thing. I don’t see how you can have one without the other. These two qualities fleshed out before our eyes are critical from the outset of our Christian walk. The refreshing of spirit and the strengthening we need in order to thrive begin here.

Remember when you first came to Christ? I look back and smile when I think about people who made us feel welcome, granted us fridge privileges and answered our dumb questions without wincing.

Sobremesa… one Spanish word comprised of two: sobre (over) and mesa (table). 

It’s one of our sharpest tools for serving Jesus purposefully and loving people unconditionally. It will open doors like little else can for lasting relationship. It is an essential element for growing bona fide disciples. You can’t grow a disciple without availability, openness, humility, mutual accountability… and lots of food and hugs.

Next: Beware this caveat—there is a madness to our method…

Making disciples is not a method… it’s not a catechism class. Enthusiastically transmitting great information doesn’t make it happen. I’ve tried… it’s like trying to make water sit up straight.

The constant in the disciple-making equation is not how we take a stand for truth… or how fantastic our teaching is on Sunday. 

It’s about relationships… how do we strike up new ones… how do we grow them… how do we preserve them… how do they become part of our walk with Jesus?

It has to start with embracing people—all kinds of people—like Jesus did. Building long-term relationships has to be preserved as our primary goal. I can tell right away if you enjoy being with me or if you are trying to sell me something. I’ll bet you can tell the difference, too. Are you truly loved or are you a notch in someone’s belt?

So again… relationships are the medium for discipleship. Once we own this as our mantra, we start seeing what it could look like in our own corner of the world. 

It’s worth another look at Jesus and one of his go-to methodologies… 

SOBREMESA… ‘sew-bray-may-sah’… sobre (over) and mesa (table)

Never underestimate the potential in a meal or a cup of coffee.

How did the Lord’s Supper end up being a thing? Jesus planned for it. It came out of a crucial hour, a looming darkness, the intimacy of a core group of followers… woven together by an overriding purpose. Out of a moment that could have easily been overrun by fear and panic emerged a divine example of calm, a graphic illustration and a promise of eternal hope.

I will not drink again of this fruit of the vine until that day when I drink it new with you in my Father's kingdom.  Matthew 26:29 (ESV)

If he were walking about this frantic, thirsty wasteland we call home and country today, what would Jesus do? He might just say… “Let’s eat.”

Who knows where it might lead…

(Next… a little more about “sobremesa”)