Shortly after Jesus tells his disciples he's going to be killed and that he'll be leaving them to set up his kingdom, his disciples start questioning Jesus about "who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?" They were looking at this new kingdom through "earthly" eyes, and so they were trying to figure out what cabinet position Jesus might appoint each of them to in his administration. 

So Jesus, in response, pulls a child next to him and tells the disciples if they don't become more like that child they'll never even see that new kingdom. He tells them, "Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

The other day, I shared a story about my 11 year old son Ian becoming suddenly willing to help with the chores without being asked. It was intended to be a humorous post, really. But a lot of people responded with testimonies of their own children pitching in and helping out. 

You know, these are hard times for our kids. Confusing times. They see the adults in their lives struggling in some ways, they don't completely get it, and the only way they really know how to help the situation is to - well - to help out. 

Kids are pretty quick to slip into a servant's heart. Many times quicker than adults. Kids haven't been around long enough to be shaped into a desire to be the biggest and baddest and smartest and highest paid of the operation. So when the operation starts to collapse around them, and titles become worthless, they aren't as likely to feel lost as much as they might feel compelled to pitch in. 

Oh, trust me, I know kids aren't angels. Mine aren't. But my point is - in situations like we're in - humility is a little closer for kids to grab hold of than it is for many of us adults. 

I suppose some might read the verse below and interpret it as a threat. Jesus demanding: Be like a child or I'm not letting you in. But I don't hear it that way. 

I hear Jesus saying the joy of heaven is found in serving others. It's found in a humbleness that LONGS to serve others. I think Jesus is saying, if you can't find that joy in THIS kingdom, you'll never WANT to be a part of mine. And places you don't WANT to go - well you just never end up going there. 

I think Jesus was telling his disciples, look at this child - humble yourselves like this child - as a way to fuel their DESIRE for his kingdom. He wanted to help them see that the joy in his kingdom was found in the opportunity to elevate and celebrate others, and not in reaching a position that elevated themselves.
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Many of us have been humbled. Maybe more than ever in our lives, we are left with no more control over things than we had as confused kids. So maybe we do what many of our kids are doing in response. Maybe we just try to simply help out. 
And maybe in doing so, we discover the joy of heaven.

So it hit me this morning, like it had never hit me before - God named his son. Like, he had his own "popular names for boys" book and he picked out a name. 

I remember when we were expecting Elliott. When we knew he was going to be a "he" - we knew we'd name him Elliott Thomas. Now, jokingly, I always said that's because his initials would be ET - and forever saddle my son with the name of my all-time favorite movie character. But the reality is, Elliott is my great-grandfather's last name, and Thomas is Katie's grandfather's first name - 2 men important to each of us. 

Ian Paul, well with Ian, I remember doing an online poll to come up with his name.

In the end, though, we didn't go with the winner. We went with Ian, which is the Scottish translation for John - the first name of the doctor who saved Elliott's life as a baby. Weird way to get to Ian, I know. And Paul is my favorite biblical character aside from Jesus. (With hopes that maybe some day Jesus will meet Ian on the road to Damascus....)

The point is - we all put a lot of thinking into what we name our kids. So I'm thinking maybe God did too. 

God said, you shall name him Immanuel, which means: God with us. 

God with us. 

It wasn't God fix us, or God save us, or God change us, or God shame us or berate us - it was God WITH us. In naming his son, God wanted his first message through that baby to be, he is with us. 

I think that's important to remember today, in these challenging times. When we are socially distant and isolated from one another, God is reminding us that he thought long and hard about the name he would give his Son. And he settled on Immanuel.
 
God with us. 

So as we spend more time NOT WITH one another, it might be a great time to reflect on that name - Immanuel. Reflect on the peace and comfort God intended with that name, the promise he made through it. He is with us. Through that name, God promised he will never practice social distancing. 
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He is Immanuel.

In a devotional I read this morning, Henri Nouwen challenged me to take a look at my true identity. He challenged me to embrace this truth that my true identity rests in understanding that God loves me - he loved me before I came to this earth and he will long after I'm gone. 

I suppose many will read that and think, well that's just a little too simple or too dismissive of life's challenges. And I get that. 

But I think back on the kids I worked with over the years. I think back at kids who seemingly had it all together, were successful at all they did, but were struggling mightily because they felt unloved by their parents or other important people in their lives. And then on the flipside of that, I think about kids who had more struggles than one can begin to imagine, but found healing when they discovered someone loved them. 

I think it's possible a lot of people are going through identity struggles right now. Things in life that made them feel like life was all together are suddenly on pause or are on shaky ground or are gone. To the degree those things defined their identity - who and what they are - they may be lost right now.

I have been there. I have been in this spot of losing my identity as things of this world were lost - mostly through my own reckless choices. But through that - I was gifted a new identity that is bullet proof. 

I am a child of God. When my life is good - there is nothing so good in my life that makes my identity greater than that truth. And when my life is challenged - like by a virus - no challenge is so bad that healing can't be found in remembering I am a child of God. 

I love how Nouwen closed his devotion. He said this life, it is our brief opportunity to embrace the chance to tell God, I love you too. I thought - what a great personal test - every day - every choice - does this choice say, God, I love you too? 
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Because if our true identity is found in knowing God loves us, then no matter if times are good or times are bad, we never run out of opportunities to say God, I love you too. 

Especially when we know God feels our love most through the love we share with one another. So embrace that opportunity, today, while it's there, to say God, I love you too.

It is written about leprosy:

"Being contagious and unclean persons, lepers were supposed to isolate themselves from others, demonstrate their impurity and warn people of their illness. They had to wear torn clothes, let their hair be unkempt, cover the lower part of their faces and shout 'Unclean!"

I realized as I was out in public today, taking part in a couple of essential appointments, we are suddenly all lepers. As I approached the few people who were out, they quite demonstrably moved to a path that avoided me. Almost as if I was shouting "unclean."

As I look down at my hands, now 74 skin layers deep from obsessive and compulsive handwashing, I realize - in many ways - we are all lepers. 

There is some humor in that, for sure.
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There is also an opportunity for empathy. What many of us are facing now, challenges that are unique to us, others have been battling a long time. For them, the greatest sadness of this all is the lack of anything new and unique.

I was on a zoom conference call with a work colleague yesterday. This colleague began talking about a sadness they felt. Sad being away from the people they work with. Sad being away from the clients they serve and typically interact with every day. 

For an instant, it made me uncomfortable. Because for an instant, I felt pressured to have an answer for the sadness. This is a person who navigates life with a perpetual smile and a life-giving sense of humor, but none of that was there. I felt obligated to remedy that. 

It's good others chimed in before me. What did they say to fix it? They said we feel sad too. We're in this with you. I watched my colleague's face in that moment. The sadness didn't go away, but the sadness was embracing the company. 

Bob Goff says this morning, in challenging times "we don't want someone else's answers, and we don't need someone's opinion, because more opinions just create more anxiety. What we really want to know is that we're not alone."

I've watched my friends and countless leaders try to navigate these unprecedented times. I find myself drawn to the ones who seem more driven by the desire to make sure the people around them and the people they serve know they aren't alone. These folks don't feel compelled to make up answers and fixes that just aren't there - but instead feel drawn first and foremost into the hurt people are experiencing in the unfixable. 
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Yesterday, for a moment, I felt the burden of having to fix the unfixable. What eased that burden? Understanding the healthiest fix we have for one another is simply saying I don't know the answers, but I'm sure willing to discover and experience them by your side.

In this challenging time, I think we are all looking for peace in our own ways. Each of us is conducting our peace search the only way we've ever known to pursue peace. And if you're like me, now and in the past, that search can too often come up empty. 

The biggest mistake we make in that search, I think, is too often we think peace is something we find or it finds us, and not something we have to work for. 

The thing is, we are wired to be anxious. We are wired to be constantly on the lookout for the next danger or struggle in our lives. It's this big favor/curse our brains do for us to keep us safe. So, by our very nature, if we did nothing to counteract ourselves, we would live in a constant state of uneasiness.

Yesterday, in my own pursuit of peace, I spent time in Phillipians chapter 4. The popular chapter that promises us a "peace that surpasses all understanding." I mean, if we're going to look for peace, please, give me a bucket full of that peace that just blows my mind away!  

We are told in this chapter that prayer is our road to this peace. Bring all of our concerns to God. But you know what, sometimes prayer just seems insufficient. Not that I'm diminishing the power of prayer, but sometimes I think we see prayer as a handoff. Here God, I've got this thing going on in my life, I want to hand it over to you with this prayer, so how long do you think before you get around to fixing this thing? I've got a life to live. 

But, and I don't think I ever made this connection in this chapter in Phillipians, immediately following this recipe of sorts we get for a peace that surpasses all understanding, we get a chore list. We are given an assignment. It goes like this (Phillipians 4:8-9) -
Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things. What you have learned and received and heard and seen in me—practice these things, and the God of peace will be with you.

I think I've always read this added assignment or this chore list as something outside of the recipe for peace instead of ingredients in it. I just feel like I hear God saying in this - come to me to unload these things that are bothering you, but once your mind is unloaded, here are the things I need you to THINK about and PRACTICE. 

I hear God saying, you've come to me with your fears and anxieties around this virus, now you have space to think about the good things. 

Listen, I'm well aware of alot of the privileges I have in my life right now that make it easier for me to think about the good things. Life is a challenge, but it's without the challenges many have. At least for now. 

But I've been in some rock bottom peaceless places in my life. And my rise from those places began with what I insisted that my mind think about. When you're in the darkest places of life, and you spend your hours there praying for light but never focus on it, never think about it or practice the things that look and feel like light, then you are never going to find light. 

Today, I encourage you, when you feel the anxieties we are all naturally inclined to lean into, think about something that is good in your life. Think about something that is true: I have my family, I'm healthy, I have friends checking on me, I've survived hard times before, I'm discovering things about myself I didn't know before. On and on.
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Today, make a commitment to work for peace. I think when we begin working for peace, sometimes it finds us in some unexpected places.

Yesterday, I wrote a message in this space. To be honest, when I was finished with it, I was like, where did that come from. That's not what I really set out to write at all. It was close, but it didn't capture the theme I originally intended. 

That happens to me occasionally. And I'm left wondering, was that a message TO me and not FROM me. 

One of the things I wrote in that message was this:

"The past couple of weeks, much like during 9/11, I've pictured God scooping some of the loudest voices from the stage and replacing them with the quiet and the humble. Only, these folks don't have time for the attention or any desire to make a speech when the stage is theirs. They just simply want to get back to doing what they've been doing all along. They want to get back to loving. They want to get back to quietly holding the world together the way they've been holding us all together all along."

This morning, when I read the two morning devotionals that I consistently go to each morning, I read eerily similar messages. 
Bob Goff said today, "God delights in our secret sacrifices. He created us with the hope that we'd join Him in restoring all that's gone wrong with the world, wherever we find ourselves. He uses the big, grand things everyone knows about, but he also uses the barely seen." 

Then, I went to my Henri Nouwen devotional, and Nouwen said this: "Maybe, while we focus our attention on the VIPs and their movements, on peace conferences and protest demonstrations, it's the totally unknown people, praying and working in silence, who make God save us yet again from destruction."

After reading those two entries, back to back, and reflecting on my words yesterday, I could only say "I hear you God." 

I have a favorite book - Whisper, by Mark Batterson. I go to it at times when I feel God whispering something to me. This morning, I went to the chapter that talks about feeling and understanding God's prompts. Because, to be honest, I was feeling him prompt me this morning. 

In this chapter, Batterson led me to this scripture in Isaiah (message version) - Chapter 30 verses 19-22:
Oh yes, people of Zion, citizens of Jerusalem, your time of tears is over. Cry for help and you’ll find it’s grace and more grace. The moment he hears, he’ll answer. Just as the Master kept you alive during the hard times, he’ll keep your teacher alive and present among you. Your teacher will be right there, local and on the job, urging you on whenever you wander left or right: “This is the right road. Walk down this road.” You’ll scrap your expensive and fashionable god-images. You’ll throw them in the trash as so much garbage, saying, “Good riddance!”

You know, I've said it, I hear and feel my friends saying it, I hear government officials saying it as they try to speed us back to this place called "normal." And trust me, I long for normalcy. But the last few days, I've heard God saying to me, I think there are some things you need to leave behind when you back there - to this place called normal. I've heard him saying, you have some "expensive and fashionable god-images" in your life that are keeping you from experiencing my "grace and more grace."

I've heard him say, you know, there are people all around you who get this. They really do. They are "praying and working in silence" - they are walking down the right road. They are joining God in restoring all that is wrong with the world through their secret sacrifices. They are quietly holding the world together the way they've been holding us all together all along.

I've heard God repeat himself. Over and over the last couple of days I've heard him yanking at my attention. And I know when he does that, he's insisting that I hear something. 
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And I hear him. Oh do I hear him. The question is, when I find this road that leads back to normal, and I begin to travel it, will I still hear him?

Bob Goff this morning talks about this idea that "when you love Jesus, you'll discover you love being last in line."

I love how he phrases that. He doesn't say you'll be "willing" to be last in line, but rather, you'll "love" being last in line. 

It got me to thinking about these challenging times we're in. And to continue with a theme I can't shake - that these unprecedented times provide us with unprecedented opportunities - I got to thinking about what it truly means to "work for Jesus" in these times. 

I imagined applying for a job with Jesus. And asking him, could I see your company's vision and mission statement please? Jesus would reach into his warn from the travels pocket and pull out a business card and say, here it is. It's rather simple, really, but you're welcome to it. 

I'd quickly read it. Then, that's it, I'd ask. You just want me to love my neighbor?

Yes, all of them, he'd say. Even the ones you don't like much or agree with at all. 

OK, I can hear myself saying. A bit skeptical. I get it. I think. But this mission - the last shall be first and the first will be last. Seems like some kind of company lingo to me. What's that all about?

Simple, really, he'd tell me. Any line you stand in in this life, you have to crave for everyone else to cut in front of you. 

Oh boy, you're talking about this whole toilet paper thing, aren't you?

No, not really, but now that you mention it..... 

But what I'm saying, Jesus would say, is nothing you have in life is going to bring you the joy you'll find in living with a constant desire to look out for the people around you. Nothing will compare to passionately longing to put others above self. Even the ones you don't like much - or agree with at all. 

This sounds like a tough, job, I'd say. And, I'm guessing it doesn't pay well.

You won't find a higher paying job, he'd tell me. The problem is, the pay is a little different than you're used to. Your checks get mailed to our father in heaven. He'll hold them for you - and yes, they do accrue interest. 

What about rent? Food? That new big screen TV I want?

March Madness is cancelled - what in my name do you need with a big screen TV? 

Listen, here's the thing - you put OTHERS first, then I'll put YOU first. This job doesn't come with the kind of security you are used to chasing. But really, just how is that security working for you right now anyways? This job comes with a security and a joy you're just going to have to put some faith in. But believe me, as your potential new boss - I can promise you a security and a joy beyond anything you've ever experienced. 

This morning - as I consider my imaginary job offer - I'm thinking of so many of my friends out there. Friends working in the healthcare industry. Friends working in grocery stores and other places essential to us all. Friends who are teachers who are sad about their school years cut short, but still looking for ways to put their students first. I'm thinking of friends who are out of work but proclaiming whatever I need to do to keep my friends and family safe. I'm thinking of pastors and church leaders embracing technology to keep their flocks united. I'm thinking of so many more who are honoring the mission and vision of Jesus. 

I'm loving the way so many of you are loving your neighbors. I'm loving the way you are loving the unprecedented opportunity to be last in line. 
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The Lord bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you, And be gracious to you.

So here we go. I guess in the big picture of things this morning begins week two of social distancing. 

Depending on who you are, this comes with a few hundred million American possibilities. 

For us all, to some degree, it comes with the possibility of another week of running and hiding, and in sad cases - being captured by - an invisible predator that seems to be pursuing all of us, without regard to our color or our religion or our social standing. 

It seems to want us all. 

It comes with the possibility of another week without income. 

Another week at home with kids who just don't get it. 

It comes with another week of unimaginable sacrifices being made by those who have no choice but to socially engage with the sick, as in the case of our first responders and healthcare workers, or, folks engaging with those trying to hide from the predator, in the case of our grocers and our restaurant folks and delivery people and more. 

It comes with the possibility of fading patience. Irritability. Loneliness. 

It comes with the possibility that the novelty of it all quickly fades into the hopelessness that comes from the relentless fight to hide from the unknown. 

For me, the only answer I know to that comes in remembering the strongest certainty in my life. 

Henri Nouwen says, "When everything is dark, and we are surrounded by despairing voices, when we do not see any exits, then we can find salvation in a remembered love, a love that is not simply a wistful collection of a bygone past, but a living force that sustains us in the present."
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For me, knowing God is with me in this moment, that the stories I read of what he did on my behalf in the past, and what he promises for my future, remembering these things are my known defense against this unknown predator. 

Yes, I get it - I'm leaning on an invisible God to protect me from an invisible predator. But for me, it's where I find a very real and visible hope. 

If this week turns to struggle, simply pause - and remember.