It Aint Cheap

Jesus' standards were much higher than mine. That raises two questions:

One, should I demand more from would-be followers of Christ?
Two, do I live up to his standard for a disciple?

Jesus traveled countless miles teaching and preaching about the kingdom of heaven for three years, at the end of which his following had waned to a measly eleven disciples. How did this happen? He healed incurable diseases, raised the dead, outwitted the religious geniuses, spoke words that amazed everyone who heard, fed thousands and cast out enough demons to require drastic expansion and renovation of hell.

Yet Jesus ended three years of ministry with only eleven disciples because they were the only ones willing to pay the high cost of following Jesus. Many would-be followers attempted to join him, but the price drove them away: "Sell everything you have," "Let the dead bury their own dead," "No one who follows me can look back," and so on.

If someone came to me and said they wanted to become a disciple, but they first needed to bury their father, I'm afraid that in my mind I would think, "Here is someone with an interest! I should do whatever it takes to bring this person to Christ!" I would spend hours with this person until they became a disciple. But that's not the way of Christ. He had no time to waste on those who were not immediately ready to follow him. Jesus' time would be better spent maturing the faith of the devoted.

What would history be like if Jesus, at the end of his ministry, had produced hundreds or even thousands of semi-devoted disciples instead of eleven disciples so devoted that they would go to their deaths for the sake of the kingdom? I don't think Christianity would've made it. So...

Should I demand more from would-be followers of Christ?

Other important questions: What about me? Do I follow Jesus without hesitation? Do I obey without question? Am I faithful in adversity?

If not, can I call myself his disciple?

March Madness

March has really been blessed.

Kris and I have been overwhelmed with the way God has moved this month. We have enjoyed more success in the past three weeks than in the three months of last semester. Relationships are deepening, new relationships are progressing effortlessly, confidence is building, goals are being achieved. But why? What is so different about this term? I can only guess:

1. The Big Man is in it. It can't be denied that what we're experiencing is the work of his hand. He's moving the mountains. I'm just glad we have a front seat to watch the action.

2. Big prayer. Kris and I both have people thinking about us every day. Not only thinking of us, but of the people we are trying to reach, our students, our friends, all of the work. I know that is playing a huge role in what we're seeing. Thanks to our prayer networks, dozens of people pray for us. Some are praying for us one day a week. Others bring us before the Father every day. On any given day, there are 25 people praying specifically for us. In a week, that's 175 prayers. In a month, the number goes up to 700. Think that goes unnoticed Upstairs?

3. Hard work last semester. The majority of our work last semester was relationship-building. We tried to spread our influence and by our actions let people know what we were about and that we cared about them. I believe all that invested time and effort is paying dividends this spring.

4. Now-or-never-all-or-nothing-we-only-have-a-few-months-left-so-pull-out-all-the-stops Attitude. The clock is ticking on our time in China and we have no reason to hold cards. July is coming, like it or not, and all that will remain in August is regret. We have determined that we will leave China regret-free this summer. With this attitude, we can be more aggressive and that leads to more opportunities.

5 . Yes. This three-letter word is power-packed. We use it all the time. Want to eat together? Want to work out together? Want to play basketball? Want to walk together? Yes, yes, yes, yes. "No" gets you home early and extra time in front of the TV. "Yes" gives you a chance to make a new friend and maybe a chance to plant a micro-seed of the Gospel.

So praise God for March Madness in Hangzhou, even if it has nothing to do with NCAA basketball. For the record, though, I'm still hacked that Calipari went to Kentucky.

Say Something

Today after class I was standing in front of building 10 waiting for Kris to meet me. As I stood there at lunchtime near the center of our campus, there was a mass exodus of students coming from the classroom quad to the cafeteria block. Standing just a few feet off of the path, I began counting students. They were coming so fast that I had to count them in twos. Kris arrived after only a couple minutes, but I had already counted around 300 university students. All studying on my campus. All living on my same square mile. And this was only a fraction of them!

As I counted the students, I thought about their hearts. How many of the 300 would be open to a Good Word? How can I recognize which of these students is good soil and which is not?

Our strategy is to always speak with loaded statements. They are open invitations to talk about spiritual things. With creativity, these loaded statements can become second nature. As we become more and more accustomed to speaking this way, our speech changes from useless banter to purposeful communication.

"It's a beautiful day," becomes, "God has given us another perfect day."

"This food is so good!" becomes, "God gives us all we need."

"Goodbye," becomes, "God bless you."

"I'm sorry to hear that," becomes, "I will be praying for you."

Sometimes these micro-seeds of the gospel lead to conversations and future opportunities for sharing. Other times, they fall on seemingly deaf ears. However, I believe that His word will not return to Him empty-handed. At the very least, everyone we speak to will know where we stand. And they will know who to come to the day the Big Man finally breaks through to them.

Just A Cup

In HangZhou, we're praying that God can somehow use our influence to radically impact people, changing them from ordinary folks to disciples and eventually to disciple-makers. This kind of influence takes time and exposure and a relationship that persists over weeks and months and years.

One of the problems we face in HangZhou is that most of the people we make contact with we will never see again. Maybe we meet on a bus or on the street or in a nearby city. Keep in mind that HangZhou and the surrounding area has more people than Oregon, Washington, Montana, Utah and Nevada combined. We meet new people constantly. Your situation is probably similar.

If your goal is to go into all the world and make disciples, what is your approach to people you may only have five minutes with before they pass out of your reach and into the sea of earth's billions? You could get a phone number and try to make contact in the future, in hopes that a relationship will develop, but that's only practical a small fraction of the time. At the other extreme, you could save your breath and keep your mouth shut when you know your time and influence with a person will be limited. I guess another option would be to run through the story of God and Christ in two minutes. Good luck with that.

Two days ago, Kris and I were trying to make sense of the Shanghai subway system. It's not too difficult, but it would have been easier if we understood Chinese. Kris suggested that we look for and English speaker to confirm our route before we shot off in the wrong direction. I looked to our right and saw a girl about the age of some of our university students. Something told me to go to her. She happened to speak great English and also happened to be going the same place we were. "Follow me," she said.

She was shy and didn't say much, but I liked that girl. She kept looking over her shoulder to make sure we were still behind her when we walked through crowded areas. The Maglev was quieter than the subway, and I had a chance to talk with her some. She was in Shanghai to meet a friend who had cancer. Her friend, whom she had know since childhood, was going to Canada to get treatment.

Of course I knew I'd never see this girl again, but I wanted to give her some kind of blessing. When we parted ways at the airport, I said, "I'm a Christian and I'll pray for your friend." She said, "Thanks," and walked away. I couldn't tell you her name.

Thoughts?

Scarred for Life

No, I'm not scarred for life, but that little Vietnamese boy probably is.

Ok, I realize that is a scary first sentence in a blog entry, but hang in there. You might already know that Kris and I have been on winter break from our classes. We chose to travel with 9 friends though Southeast Asia. We had a great trip and had enough experiences to fill several blogs, but there was one time in particular, on our last day in Vietnam, that just has to be shared.

After spending nine perfect days in sunny Mui Ne, we decided to move on to Ho Chi Minh city, the capitol of Vietnam. Before catching our sleeper bus at 2pm, we had an early lunch at our favorite little diner where I branched out and decided to try the "beef with noodle" instead of my usual "tuna fish with samwich." Six hours later this would come back to haunt me.

When the bus came at 2, I settled in to a seat in the very back of the bus on the second level of seats. This was the last of about six similar bus rides we took as we leap-frogged from city to city through Vietnam. We always chose seats in the back, where most of us could sit together. I liked the seats on the top because the view was better and because I always wanted bunk beds as a kid. Not very popular for one-child households. Anyway, I found my seat and spent the first three hours finishing a crummy book about hidden clues in the works of Shakespeare, a knock-off of the Dan Brown novels.

One of the drawbacks of the back of the bus is that it is very bouncy and swervy. It's the best place in the bus to get carsick. Especially if you're reading. So after I finished the book and my stomach was feeling rough. I thought I was just a little bit car-queasy, but I found out later that night that I was poisoned by that Vietnamese beef.

As the need to hurl intensified, I was thankful that my seat had direct access to the window. I, like almost everyone else, hate vomiting, so I was taking deep breaths and trying hard to beat the beef. I actually made it pretty far. We got all the way to Ho Chi Minh. We got all the way to the street where the bus stop was located. We even stopped in front of our destination. Then the driver threw it in reverse. He was only backing up enough to parallel park, but it was enough to put my stomach over the edge- and my head out the window.

So I puked. And three things made it amazing:

1. Altitude. From the upper-deck window of the bus, mouth to ground was a good fifteen feet. New personal record.

2. Audience. Although my traveling companions inside the bus had no idea all this was happening, I had a huge audience outside the bus. Only a few feet away, one of the workers was guiding the driver. He might've been splashed on a little. At a distance of about fifteen feet, people were standing on the sidewalk with looks of disgust/horror on their faces. I tried to make it as enjoyable as possible for them, smiling and waving between convulsions, but...

3. Sheer volume. Upon viewing the carnage, I heard people make comments: "Oh my word." "Never in my life." "That is the most vomit I have ever seen." Needless to say, my ego was stroked a little.

Now this post has gone on too long, but I need to tie up the loose end- the Vietnamese boy. He was standing with his mother only a few yards away. While it took everyone else a few seconds to figure out what was going on, this child was locked in from the instant my head came out the window. I distinctly remember making eye contact with him as the impurities fled from my body. Then he reached for his mother's hand and opened his mouth and screamed. Then he inhaled. Then he screamed again. I'm no expert, but I think moments like these are what causes children to have issues. I'm sorry little Vietnamese boy. So sorry.

Power Perfected

A few nights ago we sat around a dozen empty dishes reflecting on 2 Corinthians 12 and trying to make sense of the phrase, "The power of Christ is made perfect in your weakness."

The answer is found in the 1994 family comedy, Little Giants.

I know you've seen this movie and I'm positive you remember in detail the final sequence, in which the rag-tag Giants face off with the muscle-bound, peachfuzz-bearded, fire-breathing pee wee force, the Cowboys. As you know, the Giants were pummeled in the first half, leaving them in the locker room at halftime with a 21-point deficit and very low spirits. After a rousing speech from Rick Moranis, the Giants took the field in the second half, in which they score repeatedly and execute a dramatic goal-line stand, resulting in a score of 21-21 with 00:01 on the clock and 99 yards to paydirt. Not enough time to get in pee-wee football field goal range. Only enough time for... One. More. Play. Which play? A trick play called "The Annexation of Puerto Rico." Stunned, the Cowboys can do nothing but watch as the Giants move the ball 99 yards to score the winning touchdown. Moviegoers across the country simultaneously reach for a tissue.

Why didn't producers cast more athletic kids to play for the Giants? Why did the writers stack the odds in the Cowboy's favor? Why give the Giants a 21-point margin to overcome? Why start the final play on the one yard line? Because no one notices when strength wins or when power prevails or when the 50-point favorite wins by 50 points.

But when weakness triumphs in spite of limitations, people stand up and cheer.

36

Topher. Chris. Topherious. Mr. Right. You may know him by many names. You may know him as "that guy who made a perfect score on the ACT and gets ragged for it daily." However you know him, you are bound to love him. He is...


...Christopher Jennings Wright.

Chris was a prime member of the youth group when I worked in Nashville at Crieve Hall. Still up to great things, he's at Freed now, majoring in Biochem, et cetera and generally living the dream. One of the things you need to know about Chris is that he can lead all eight verses of Just As I Am blindfolded in a hurricane and never lose the beat. No, that's not it. You need to know that he's going to Costa Rica to do Work for the Big Man. If you have a minute, send one up for Chris and his friends who are spending a week or so of their winter break serving in a foreign land.

Great talking to you, Jennings.