Rick Nier...Woo!

So there was this one time when I took off all my clothes at church. Ok, that's not quite accurate. I did take off my coat, shirt, tie, shoes, socks, and yes, my pants. I did have on shorts and a ratty t-shirt underneath. I was making the point that all our righteous acts are like filthy rags. My pastor told me to do it. Why would I tell my pastor no? You really should have seen the look on people's faces when I reached for my belt and started to take off my pants. That image will forever be etched in my mind, which is probably better than the image etched in their minds of a stripping pastor. I bring all this up because I am starting to feel naked again. Except this time it's not with clothing. This time it is my soul which is being bared for everyone to see. I'm fighting hard, going back and forth between two desires. The one pulls at me to keep it together. The other longs to take off all the exterior, which means very little anyway. This morning I read from 1 Timoth

I've been re-reading Donald Miller's book Searching For God Knows What . This means a couple of things. I've rethought whether I am a good writer. It means I've been refreshed to know, yet again, that this life is not about me and what I can possibly cram into a day, even if everything I crammed was uber-spiritual. The most recent chapter I read talked about how we have taken the personal relationship out of the personal relationship with Christ, making Christianity more of a business transaction. It gets me excited when I think about God like this. I just hope I can treat others with the same conclusions that Donald comes to. It makes sense when you read scripture. For instance, 1 Timothy 6:6-10 reads this way; "A devout life does bring wealth, but it's the rich simplicity of being yourself before God. Since we entered the world penniless and will leave it penniless, if we have bread on the table and shoes on our feet, that's enough. But if it's only

I wish I knew some drinking songs. I don't drink, which is to say I don't drink alcohol. It's kind of silly that people say they don't drink. Everyone drinks something....water, coffee, Kool-Aid. Does anyone still drink Kool-Aid? But drinking songs have always looked like fun to me. A bunch of friends swinging around their frothy mugs while loudly singing off-key. Perhaps the fact that they are inebriated while they do this makes it look like more fun, but still. Of course, if I did know drinking songs, I'd be forced to rethink singing them when I came across this. "Sing hymns instead of drinking songs! Sing songs from your heart to Christ. Sing praises over everything, any excuse for a song to God the Father in the name of our Master, Jesus Christ." (Ephesians 5:18-20) I don't think this means I can't sing jubilantly while getting my milk and cookies. I could go without the song, but something about those cookies makes me want to sing. But I suppo

Though I like Steven Curtis Chapman's music, I always questioned when he called God the 'Lord of the Dance'. Perhaps it's the instant imagery of men in tights high stepping all over. Maybe it's my Free Methodist roots and fear of dancing coming out. Either way, it's always makes me stop and wonder. Is God a line-dancer? Can He break dance? Would He dip a lady in a tango? But then I come across words of the Apostle Paul like this (found in 1 Thessalonians 4:1) We ask you—urge is more like it—that you keep on doing what we told you to do to please God, not in a dogged religious plod, but in a living, spirited dance. It makes sense that God doesn't want dogged religious plodders. If I started a religion, I wouldn't want plodders. Soldiers, yes. Someone to cook, sure. But not plodders. The reason is simple. You can't plod without looking sad. Go ahead and try. But dancers. I suppose this does make sense. It's hard to dance and be down. And dancers ar

I've been told that my young children will one day become useful to me. Cleaning rooms, washing dishes, taking care of their laundry...all these will become things they do all the time. It almost makes me want to have 3 or 4 more when I think about it. If they were organized properly, my castle could be a well-oiled, smooth-running machine. Imagine what I could accomplish once all of the mundane things are taken care of by my miniature army of pasty-white children. Perhaps this is silly, but I sometimes think the same way with our church. I imagine what would be possible if we had more people taking care of daily tasks and even others to help dream forward. What would be possible? This isn't all bad as growth is a great thing to strive forward towards, but I wonder if I sometimes cross a line that Paul warned about. "You can be sure that using people or religion or things just for what you can get out of them—the usual variations on idolatry—will get you nowhere, and certa

Ephesians 5:2 (The Message) Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that. I spent the last couple of days at a retreat. It's a yearly required event. You wouldn't think that a retreat would have to be something that is required. But it is. This is good because if it weren't, I would not go. Most years I might be just as happy I didn't. But this year I would have missed out on something. This year was a pleasant surprise as the speaker took us on a journey of self-exploration. And though he ma not have intended for me to get the result I did, I think God showed me that I make way too much in my life about me. I preach against this kind of thing so often that I guess I thought I was exempt. Apparently not. I needed a reminder. That's what we have here in