Hide or Go Seek: New Bern 1

This will be an unusual summer. I am interning with Mark Cooke, Pastor at an AMiA church plant in New Bern, NC. My job description: interning. That's all I've got so far.

I arrived yesterday. I'm living with their current worship guy, Joel, his wife, and their two year old. And their lap dog. Reminds me more of a jackal on the safari than a house dog, but sure is a rambunctious pup. And deceived. Buster honestly believes he's ferocious.

In truth, he has left a mark on me already. Well, really just on my rug. Good morning, New Bern.

I drove around downtown for a few hours today, stopping at antique shops, coffee shops, and Lowes to buy a nut for an ancient Raleigh three-speed I'm fixing up. It uses an epicyclic gearing system. Try throwing that into a conversation. Automatic win.

My leaving home and my arrival here slid well into my personal scripture-studies. In Ezra 3:11-13, the temple is being rebuilt, starting with a new foundation. There is singing, shouting praise, celebration. Then it says "But the older priests and Levites and family heads, who had seen the former temple, wept aloud when they saw the foundation of this temple being laid... No one could distinguish the sound of the shouts of joy from the sound of weeping, because the people made so much noise. And the sound was heard far away."

What an arresting description. Often I'll be moving through a passage, when something 'arrests' my faculties and forces me to 'dwell' on some word or phrase, even when I don't immediately see the relevance. I assume that's the Holy Spirit at work.

Ezra, weeping mixed with shouts. My life.

Too often I cry with the elders. It's hard to move on, even when it's progress. Hershey appeals to my soul when it advertises"change is bad", even though we all know air conditioning, penicillin, and epicyclic gears (automatic win) are incredible counter-examples. Too often I want to sit, even if it's in the ruins of a demolished temple. It hurts to see something new replace something old. Even when it's a good thing.

God, at least in my life, must be chased beyond fond reminiscences. He must not be left to the moment I first acknowledged my need for Him, in 6th grade, Mondo Weekend, with KB speaking in a circus tent. He will not be contained by the past, nor by the present. Nor by camp, as I must remind myself. He does not stay anywhere. He's moving, and so I am going to follow, if I can.

Many people have asked why I chose not to be at camp this summer. I chose to leave camp because I felt in my gut that God wanted me gone. Simple as that, in theory, but a painful decision, with much wrestling.

I do have some ideas as to why God sent me out, general truths that I see accomplished in my leaving. God may laugh with joyful, me-contradicting omniscience as I write these, but it's what i see so far:
1- God is in the business of multiplication. There is a dearth of leadership in the church, and so God wants to create more leaders, to spread His kingdom. If I get out of the way, new leaders are raised up. It's a good thing.
2-I am sinful. I seek admiration, even worship, for myself, from those to whom I minister. To be embarrassingly honest, much of my identity is tied up in what peers, particularly girls, think of me. God has gifted, anointed, blessed (pick your word) me in leading worship, a calling I will claim gladly. But I am quick to hold it up to my peers, that they might be in awe of it, the gift, and of me, instead of the giver. The creature, over the creation. You see, my soul is quite sick. And so, God is calling me to a place where my gifts pale in the presence of worship leaders far better than I, to lead in worship those who I am less interested in impressing. It's a good thing.
3-I am still more broken, in that I seek my steadiness in friends, family. I often believe my faith will be secure if I am close to my family. If I am with friends. If I am with those I trust, or agree with, then I will be secure, my salvation solidified, my path clear and well lit. Yet this too is sin, for it is based on two false principles. First, that my family and friends are perfect, and two, that I know perfection when I see it. In reality, my eyes are as blind as a mole, and my friends and family will fail. Christ, as it turns out, is the only solid rock, the only firm ground. I empathize with Peter, when he responds, to Jesus' asking if they want to leave, with "Lord, to whom else can we go?" There's a little resignation present in his voice. At least, in my voice, when I read it aloud. Me leaving means i can no longer lean on my incredible family, and my great friends (particularly at camp). But they simply are not it. Nothing is, save God. Where else can I go?

The old stuff was good. Is good. Youth retreats led me well. Camp, family and friends led me well. God has done undeniable work in me, through all these gifts. And they are probably not done. I may yet return to summer camp, or youth retreats. I am fairly confident that family and friends will remain integral parts of my calling. I owe Him all the gratitude I can find for them- yet He himself is something altogether different, and therefore, I think, must be known separately. And so, in pursuit of Him, I must count all things as loss.

I hear He's in New Bern for the summer.

Mark says the definition of a religious spirit is one that sees God in the past yet resists Him in the present, while he that has the Holy Spirit seeks first the kingdom, even today, forcibly overtaking it.

Religious spirit, or holy spirit. Old Temple weeping or new temple shouting. Hide or Go Seek.

Pick. And pray for me as I pick the latter.

More news/thoughts soon. I'll post my summer booklist as soon as it's finalized, for discussion and review. Heck, I'll post my job description too, if I ever get one ;). And maybe some pics.

-Drew