"The apostles gathered around Jesus, and told him all that they had done and taught.  He said to them, 'Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest a while.'  For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure even to eat.  And they went away in a boat
to a deserted place by themselves."   Mark 6:30-31

     As spring washes into summer, and that deep, dark green blankets the trees, my outlook on life seems to change dramatically.  Perhaps it’s due to the nostalgia of childhood, when summer was truly a vacation from the rest of the year.  Back then, summer meant going to camp.  It meant playing sports.  It meant taking swimming lessons, and watching endless reruns of Flipper.  It meant pink lemonade, watermelon, barbecues, and family camping trips.  It meant time -- time enough to simply meander through life, if only for a little while.
     I look back on those days with a sense of longing.  As my life scurries from deadline to deadline, and weaves its way through my tightly packed schedule, I sometimes wonder what it would be like to really rest.  Time is one luxury I don’t seem to have.  And yet, in my heart of hearts, I know that time is essential if I’m going to experience the kind of rest that I need.  I need to get away with Jesus to a “deserted place.”  I need to reflect on my life and listen for His leading.  I can’t let the machine-like drone of my busyness continue to drown out God’s gentle whispering to my heart.
     Can you relate with me?  Are you often so busy that you don’t have “leisure even to eat?”  Are you completely frazzled by the pace of your life?  Then take back your rest.  Take back your time.  It’s like those great Universal Studios commercials… “Take back your vacation.”  How?  By spending time in God’s presence.
     I know, I know, I had you up until this point.  And then I hit you with the “churchy” answer.  But it’s absolutely true.  Only God can give us that childhood-summer-like rest in the midst of our busy lives.  Don’t get me wrong, vacation is great (and necessary).  You need physical relaxation as well as spiritual.  The body and spirit are deeply connected.  But by laying our frustrations, anxieties and fatigue before Jesus, we can handle the storms of stress with a “peace that passes all understanding.” 
     So this summer, let’s together take a chance.  Let’s dare to “get away.”  Let’s keep our ears open for that still, small voice.  Let’s take time to rest in His presence if only for a few minutes each day.  You may not have time for reruns of Flipper, but you may just find that Jesus is all you need.  Hmmm, where have I heard that before?
     One way that you can devote some time for God this summer is by participating in our “Finding God in The Shack” summer book study/discussion group.  We’ll be meeting on Sunday afternoons, around lunchtime, to discuss the book, faith, and how we can use religious fiction to grow closer to God.  The dates: June 20, 27, July 11, 18, and 25 at 12:30 p.m., location TBA.
     May God bless you and your family this summer, and may He grant you His deep and satisfying rest.

In Christ's service,

Rev. Jason Tucker

"Saul spent several days with the disciples in Damascus.  At once he began to preach in the synagogues that Jesus is the Son of God.  All those who heard him were astonished and
asked, 'Isn't he the man who raised havoc in Jerusalem among those who call on his
name?  And hasn't he come here to take them as prisoners to the chief priests?' Yet
Saul grew more and more powerful and baffled the Jews living in Damascus
by proving that Jesus is the Christ."  (Acts 9:19b-22)

     Sometimes I wonder why I’ve become so desensitized to the incredible tragedies going on in the world.  Sometimes I wonder why my heart is not stirred to tears every time I hear about: war, babies found in dumpsters, economic collapse, murder, theft, arson, and on and on and on.  I suppose there’s a part of my heart that has been hardened by the deluge of information that washes over me every day: waves of emails, newscasts and podcasts that beat against me so often, I’ve become accustomed to it.  It’s as if every day I take an emotional Ali-esque beating, with the world shouting from the center of the ring, “I am the greatest.”  And, perhaps in self-defense, my proclivity to avoid sorrow and run toward laughter creates a powerful outer husk that protects me from the pain of such awful truths.
     The reality of being human is that our hearts can easily harden.  In fact, from a spiritual point of view, one could say it’s our natural inclination to be hardened toward God.  And yet, God can soften or even melt the hardest of us.  In my own experience, I’ve seen God soften the hearts of friends and family who I thought would never soften toward Him.  In fact, some of the strongest leaders in the Church today are those who once committed their lives to opposing Christianity.
     Saul (Paul) is the Biblical example of this.  He was a persecutor of Christians, and by all accounts, he enjoyed his job.  He was good at it.  And because he was good at it, he had developed quite a reputation.  People had heard of Saul’s exploits against the Christians in Jerusalem all the way in Damascus (150 miles away).  Saul (Paul) was smart, prestigious and popular.
     Then, God knocked him off his high horse (so to speak).  With a word, He humbled and softened one of the hardest hearts around.   Many people see God’s interaction with Saul as a miracle.  If a miracle, by definition, is “an act of God,” then yes, it certainly was.  But I think the next part of Saul’s story, as told in the above passage from Acts, is an even bigger miracle.  For after his conversion, he went out and proclaimed the Gospel, leaving his friends in bewilderment and anger.  He started living for the God he once despised.  And that’s the power that comes through a relationship with God.  It turns everything on its head.  It resensitizes that which has been hardened toward God.
     I think the Church has a tendency to over-complicate the Gospel.  When someone asks what Christianity is all about, some Christians (of course, none of us here at Avenel), drone on and on like they’re trying to pass some kind of exam.  They try and fit every theological truth they ever heard into a kind of “spiritual filibuster” that leaves the poor questioner drowning in information overload.
     If we learn anything from Paul’s conversion, it’s that his transformation, his heart-softening, didn’t come by examining complex matters of theology (that came later), but first and foremost, through a relationship with God.  And that, brothers and sisters, is where every hardened heart must begin: with an encounter.
     Have you encountered the Gospel of Jesus Christ for yourself?  Don’t get bogged down in all the theology (important and necessary as it is), at least not right away.  Allow yourself to experience God’s saving grace in your own life.  Allow Him to walk with you in your pain and brokenness.  Allow Him to speak to you in your daily circumstance.  And when He says, “Follow me,” then follow. 

In Christ,

Rev. Jason Tucker

“But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, in order
that you may proclaim the mighty acts of him who called you out of darkness into
his marvelous light."  (1 Peter 2:9)

      He has risen!  Could you imagine what was going through the disciples’ minds when they heard these words?  There they were, holed up in a room, scared for their lives, confused—wondering, “Have I just wasted the last three years of my life?  The Lord, the One I dared to call ‘Messiah,’ is now dead.”  Could you imagine what it felt like to hear that Jesus had risen?  I’m sure the word joy doesn’t even begin to capture it.
     That first Easter was the definitive moment in human history, where God changed the trajectory of life, as we know it, forever.  “For God so loved the world,” that He sent His Son, Jesus Christ, to save it.  The powers of sin and death were overthrown forever, and God’s kingdom on earth broke through.  I wonder when the disciples really understood this.  I wonder if we really understand this today.
     Sometimes in all of our Easter celebrating, we forget a crucial part of the resurrection story—in fact, it’s the whole point of what it means to be God’s people.  Jesus didn’t just rise from the grave to tell everyone, “Go and have faith.”  No.  That’s only part of the story.  Instead, His final words to His disciples were: “Go into all the world and make disciples of all nations.”  It’s not just about believing in Easter; it’s about sharing our beliefs with the world.  We are sent into the world “in order to proclaim the mighty acts of him who called us out of darkness into his marvelous light.” 
     You see, faith is not an end in itself.  Faith is the beginning of the Christian life.  And the Christian life is life in execution of a task: sharing the message of Jesus Christ with the world.  Jesus said to God the Father, “As you have sent me into the world, so I have sent them into the world” (John 17:18).  What does it mean to be part of this community of God?  It means that we exist for the execution of God’s mission here on earth. God calls, forms, equips and sends His people to be witnesses to his love and salvation.
     What 1 Peter 2:9 reminds us is that the Church is essentially missionary in nature.  That is to say, mission is the essence of what it means to be the Church.  The people of God are those who have been “called out” in this life and in the life to come, to proclaim the gospel.  They are a “chosen race,” a “royal priesthood,” “God’s own people.”  As the theologian and missionary Lesslie Newbigin writes: “We who have received reconciliation live between the times as the ambassadors and ministers of reconciliation.”
     So what does that mean for this church?  What does that mean for you?  It means that your faith isn’t just for your own benefit or satisfaction.  It is meant for a purpose—God’s mission to the world.  You have been called to ministry!  (And you didn’t even need seminary for that.)  That’s right—you have been called.  And Jesus Christ wants to send you out…to people in this church who need a friend…to people in the community…to those who live in our neighborhood who desperately need Jesus Christ.
     So don’t be afraid to get involved!  He has risen!  And He is waiting to use you!  Let’s not just say to the world that we believe in God; let’s resolve to show the world that we believe in God.  Happy Easter, everyone.

In Christ,

Rev. Jason Tucker

Thus says the LORD: "Stand at the crossroads, and look, and ask
for the ancient paths, where the good way lies; and walk in
it, and find rest for your souls."  Jeremiah 6:16

     What does it mean to truly find rest for our souls?  We know that rest, on a physical level, is the absence of work, the absence of those things that drain our energy.  But it’s not only the absence of work is it?  Sometimes it’s the addition of certain activities that brings the deepest rest (e.g. fishing, hiking and reading).
     Spiritual rest works in a similar way. It is the absence of those things that drain us (e.g. guilt, frustration and anger) and the addition of those things that fill us (e.g. scripture meditation, prayer and service).  Every day we “stand at the crossroads” of life and are reminded by the prophet Jeremiah to look for where the good way lies, and walk in it.  But what does the good way look like in everyday life?  What does real spiritual formation look like in the Christian walk?
     The language of “spirituality” has become pervasive in contemporary American culture.  Talk of spiritual wholeness and wellness, once relegated to Sunday morning sermons, can be found in health clubs, spas, boardrooms and magazine covers.  Whenever pollsters ask about faith, it seems that most Americans overwhelmingly affirm that: they believe in God, pray to God, and share “testimonials of personal encounters with God...”[1] even as participation in traditional religious activity in America continues to decline.  Simply put, religious institutions are no longer the places where people are getting all (or any) of their spiritual information.  Many Americans have become skeptical of religious institutions and have turned to a burgeoning “spirituality industry” to meet their needs. 
     Over the last few decades, this “spirituality industry” (a conglomeration of religion, philosophy, supernatural phenomena, psychic readings and self-help psychology), has flooded popular culture with books, movies, television programs, seminars and media personalities, all promising answers to the fundamental questions of all things “spiritual.”  Sociologist Robert Wuthnow, in his book, After Heaven: Spirituality in America Since the 1950’s, argues that all of this is a sign of a profound change in American spirituality that has taken place in the last half of the 20th century: a traditional spirituality of dwelling (e.g., congregations, denominations and neighborhoods) has given way to a new spirituality of seeking.  Popular notions of “spiritual experience” (such as angels, spirit-guides and near-death experiences) and the development of the “inner self” are examples of a growing seeker-oriented spirituality that places a premium on individual experience. 
     There is a very real danger that the Christian notions of “spirituality” and “spiritual formation” have been tainted by popular culture.  Is Christian spiritual formation primarily about the individual journey of the spiritual self?  Not exactly.  “Spiritual formation,” for the Christian, is not focused on the self, but on the Person of Jesus Christ.  It is “secular spiritual formation” in reverse—it focuses on God so that God can form the self.  It is a spiritual journey with an end in mind: the loss of self—Christlikeness.  It is a constant shaping and reshaping of the human self more and more into the image of Christ. 
     Lent is one of the oldest observations on the Christian calendar.  Like all Christian holy days, it has changed over the years, but its purpose has always been the same: self-examination and penitence, demonstrated by self-denial, in preparation for Easter.  By observing the 40 days of Lent, believers are called to imitate Jesus’ withdrawal into the wilderness where he faced the stark reality of sin and temptation—to allow God to conform us more and more into His likeness.
     As we prepare for Easter here at Avenel, there are several opportunities for you to work on true spiritual formation in the way of Jesus Christ:

     1.    Worship:  Sunday morning series “5 Things God Uses to Grow Your Faith”; Wed. Night Lenten Vespers; Holy Thursday Tenebrae Service 4/1; Good Friday Worship Experience (non-traditional) 4/2; Easter Sunrise Service & Traditional Service 4/4.

     2.    Study:  Adult Sunday School series “Cultivating Spiritual Practices”; Wed. Night Lenten discussion “5 Things God Uses to Grow Your Faith.”

     3.    Fellowship:  Wed. Night Soup Suppers; Family Bowling Night 3/6; Deacon’s Tea 3/21.

     May God bless you and your family this month.  And may we all allow God to give us the kind of rest that only comes from walking “the good way.”

In Christ,

Rev. Jason Tucker

----------------------
[1] Wuthnow, Robert. After Heaven: Spirituality in America since the 1950s. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998, p. 1.

February 2010

“Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will in all things grow up into him
who is the Head, that is, Christ” (Ephesians 4:14-15).

      It’s truly amazing how God’s Word can speak to us differently in different seasons of our lives. I suppose that’s one of the reasons that Scripture is frequently called the living Word. It moves and breathes and speaks to us anew every time we read it. For me, this passage from Ephesians didn’t really sink in until Karin and I started having kids. Since my earliest days as a Christian I’ve always gravitated toward this passage; however, after having babies in the house, I feel that I’m just beginning to understand its depth.
     “Then we will no longer be infants…” An infant is completely dependent upon his/her parents for everything. Taking care of an infant is like 24 hours of stirring the spaghetti sauce so it doesn’t burn. Okay, bad analogy. But you get the point. Infants need constant attention, and can’t really be left alone for very long. Let me rephrase: they shouldn’t be left alone for very long.
     Paul, of course, isn’t talking about literal infancy, but spiritual infancy. When we are new in our faith, we depend (primarily) on others for everything. We’re like sponges, soaking up the wisdom and teaching of our Christian family. We depend on worship services and ministers and sermons to nurse us along in our spiritual journey. This is a beautiful and necessary step in our own faith growth.
     But, as Paul points out, if we never mature in our faith, we are in danger of becoming like a rudderless ship in a stormy sea. An infant is incredibly vulnerable. If we only depend on others to feed us, and never learn to feed ourselves, then our faith may not survive. What would happen if we never taught babies to eat for themselves? They would continue to depend on their caretaker forever, guzzling the same milk for the rest of their lives. If we want to push the analogy a little further, let’s say that all the healthy food we eat represents God and all the junk food represents sin. What if a new caretaker comes along and takes away the milk? What if they replace the milk with peanut-butter cups—all the while telling the infant that God isn’t like milk, but instead is like peanut-butter cups? The spiritual infant would be “tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of men in their deceitful scheming.”
     So what’s the answer? The answer is that we must: “in all things grow up into him who is the Head, that is, Christ.” We need to learn how to do some things for ourselves, to dig deeper in our understanding, to begin sitting up, rolling, crawling, and eventually walking our faith in the world. We need to experience God as a full-course meal, to wean from the bottle—you get the picture.
     During the next 40 days (or so) of Lent, I’d like to encourage all of us to grab a knife and fork and dig in. Lent is one of the oldest seasons in the Christian calendar. Its purpose has always been: to promote self-examination and penitence in preparation for Easter. What a perfect time to broaden our spiritual palate!
     It is in this spirit that I’d like to invite you on a journey this Lenten season. It’s a two-pronged approach to growing in your faith no matter where you are in your spiritual walk. The first, is through a series of worship opportunities:

February 17: Ash Wednesday Service @7pm in the Sanctuary: [Start Lent off right]

February 24-March 24: Lenten Vespers @5:45-7:55pm: [Join us for a soup supper, vesper service in the chapel, and a discussion group: “5 Things God Uses to Grow our Faith”]

     The second approach is through an integrated sermon/discussion series entitled: “5 Things God Uses to Grow Your Faith.” After the weekly Vesper service, there will be a discussion group from 7:10-7:55pm in Ken Hunt Lounge based on this topic, and my sermons throughout Lent will correspond with each weekly theme. It’s a low pressure, extremely casual program where we’ll talk about faith in everyday life.
     Let’s grow and learn together. Let’s dig in to the feast of God’s Word, and learn what it means to truly be satisfied. And may you and your family experience God more and more this Lenten season.


In Christ's service,

Rev. Jason Tucker

January 2010

"Then Jesus was led by the Spirit into the desert to be tempted by the devil.
After fasting forty days and forty nights, he was hungry."
-Matthew 4:1-2

     So, I’m trying to imagine Jesus in the desert for forty days.  My closest point of reference is a family trip we took to the Grand Canyon one summer, that ended somewhere in the middle of Palm Desert, California.  Our battle-scarred family car, gasping for breath, finally conceded defeat in the 112-degree desert.  I don’t remember how long we waited for someone to stop and help us—or how long we spent in the backseat, sweating every last drop of moisture out of our bodies, but I will never forget that mind-numbing heat.  I remember my eyes becoming blurry with sweat, and my desperate reach for an 80-degree can of soda lying on the car floor.  And I remember thinking, as we finally drove away in the air-conditioned tow truck, “I wouldn’t last a day out here.”
     Jesus lasted 40 days—without the warm can of soda—without the air-conditioned rescue—without anyone at all.  And that’s not even the real challenge Jesus faced out there.  Besides simply surviving in the desert for that long, Jesus had to resist the temptation to leave all this suffering business behind.  I suppose Satan thought that the moment was perfect to tempt the Son of God while He was ravished with hunger, thirst, and fatigue.  He was vulnerable.  And yet…in His physical weakness, Jesus was on the top of his spiritual game—a fact that must’ve surprised the heck out of Satan.
     I think the part of this story that often goes overlooked is that the Holy Spirit led Jesus into the wilderness.  Have you ever stopped to think about that?  Why would God do that?  In fact, Jesus isn’t the first.  God seems to have a habit of leading His people into the desert, doesn’t He?  Moses (twice), the Israelites, Elijah, and John the Baptist were also led into the wilderness. But why?
     The wilderness is the place where God repeatedly provides for His people’s needs in the most dramatic ways: guiding the Israelites by a pillar of cloud and fire (Exodus 13:21-22), miraculously transporting the ark of the covenant ahead of Israel (Numbers 10:33), the provision of quails, “manna” (Exodus 16), and water from the rock (Exodus 17).  Throughout Scripture, the desert—the wilderness—is the place where people find God.  Although they are challenged physically, their dependence upon God makes them spiritually strong.
     In fact, in the 4th century, after Christianity became the official religion of Rome, many people believed that Christians had become too “soft.”  The lack of persecution, in many people’s eyes, led to a lack of spiritual strength and devotion.  They believed that the Christian faith is at its most powerful when it’s under attack.  A huge number of these men and women flocked to the desert to live an ascetic lifestyle—the monastic life—denying worldly comforts in an attempt to increase their devotion to God.
     It is usually during the wilderness times of our lives that we grow closer to God.  We reach a place where our own strength is not enough.  We hunger and thirst for God’s presence in a way that we simply don’t do when times are good.  In the wilderness, the familiar comforts of the world just aren’t enough.  Our lives that once seemed so full can feel as empty as a dried-up well.  So, we desperately fling our arms around God and hold on for dear life—realizing, “we won’t last a day out here on our own.” And, oddly enough, in that place of weakness, we become incredibly strong.
     But we’re not meant to stay in the wilderness forever.  It’s only a place of preparation.  It’s a place of refining and molding—so that we can return to the world ready to faithfully pursue God’s will.  Moses emerged from the wilderness and freed his people.  Israel emerged and settled in the Promised Land.  John the Baptist emerged and inaugurated Jesus’ ministry.  Jesus emerged and set his feet on the path toward Calvary.
     Our church family has certainly experienced its share of the wilderness.  But what great thing awaits us on the other side?  What will we emerge to find?  Will we be ready when God tells us to move forward?  I hope so.  But for now, let’s cling to God.  Let’s taste the sweetness of God’s Word.  Let’s not just talk about God; let’s get to know God.  Let’s dive into the deep end and be fully immersed in God’s love.  For then, and only then, will we be ready to leave the wilderness.
     May you and your family have a blessed and happy New Year!

In Christ,

Rev. Jason Tucker

December 2009

     As I gaze dreamily out the window, I can picture the snow gently floating to the ground.  There are colors dancing across the glass.  The reflection of hundreds of multi-colored lights twinkling against metallic ornaments—creating a warm glow.  The air is filled with the smell of Christmas—pumpkin pie, cinnamon, and North Carolina pine.  My mind is flooded by memories.  Loved ones who’ve passed on.  Loved ones who’ve moved away.  Gifts.  Laughter.  Food.  Little snapshots of familiar faces, voices and moments—all playing like a movie inside my head.
     There is a comfort in these sights and sounds forever preserved in my mind.  Every time I smell a pine tree, I remember how I used to lay underneath and look up into the lights and branches with my little brother.  And when I taste that pumpkin pie from my favorite bakery, and sip my aunt’s coffee, I know that I’m home.  I often imagine it will be like this when I go to meet my Lord.  My senses, my heart, my emotions—everything I am—will tell me I’m home.
     But while there is comfort in these memories, there is sometimes sadness.  This time of year is difficult precisely because of the strong memories associated with it.  Depression and the holidays often go hand-in-hand, which can certainly steal away the joy of celebrating Christ’s birth.  Those little snapshots of loved ones who are no longer with me can be painful reminders of their loss.  And yet, each year I create new memories in their absence.  I catalog new moments of joy and love in my heart.  There is a powerful duality of emotion during the Christmas season—the duality of joy and pain, life and death.
     I believe God understands the duality of Christmas all too well.  Jesus Christ, born in a manger, suffered under Pontius Pilate, died on a cross while filled with the sin of the world.  Jesus lived in order to die—and He died so that we might live.  God understands the duality of Christmas—the duality of living for us as “the Word made flesh.”
     I know Christmas can be a mixed bag of emotion.  Sometimes it’s hard to remember those who’ve left us.   Sometimes we get depressed.  But isn’t it comforting to know that we have a God who understands?  Call out to God and let Him lift you through those dark days when they come.  Focus on the life you’ve been given.  Let the hope and joy of your salvation shine through the darkness.  Celebrate the ultimate source of life, Jesus Christ, whose birth into this world changed it forever.  Let “the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding…guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 4:7).
     Christmas isn’t just about peace “in general,” but about a particular kind of peace: the peace of God.  How do we get this kind of peace?  We get the peace of God by making peace with God through the blood of Jesus Christ.  That’s the message of Christmas: that Jesus Christ has come into the world so that we may have peace with God.  Through faith in Christ, we move from death to life, from enmity to peace, by virtue of His sacrifice on the cross.
     This is the kind of peace our community needs.  And this is the kind of peace our church has to offer.  In an effort to reach out with the “peace of Christ,” our church is sponsoring a Christmas outreach campaign.  As part of this outreach, we’re sending 5,000 postcards that advertise our Christmas events and worship service times.  We also have some teams going door-to-door inviting people to join us in celebrating Christmas.  Please pray that God will bless our efforts.  And if you’re interested in helping, there will be extra invitations in the sanctuary for you to take and distribute at your discretion.
     May you and your family experience true peace this Christmas.

In Christ's Service,

Rev. Jason Tucker

November 2009

"For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  -Jeremiah 29:11

     Growing up in Southern California had its advantages: year-round soccer, In-N-Out Burger, beautiful-hypodermic-needle-free beaches, and the ability to wear shorts in February. Being constantly drenched in sunshine, naturally, California was home to a vast array of playgrounds, water parks and theme parks like Sea World, Marine Land, Knott’s Berry Farm, Magic Mountain, and Raging Waters. But there was one park that always stood out from the rest -- Disneyland.
     Disneyland was my favorite by far. And my family went a lot. Living only 45 minutes away made it quite accessible for birthdays and other special occasions. I used to love the feeling I’d get when I walked through the turnstile and onto Main Street USA. It was as if the sum of childhood fantasy had manifested itself into one twinkling path.
     Between the ages of 5 and 15, I probably went to Disneyland 20-30 times. And it never got old. Never. But there was one experience, above all, that I remember best -- when I first rode Space Mountain. I was 11-years-old, and terrified of Space Mountain. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this attraction, let me quickly bring you up to speed. At the time, it was one of the fastest coasters built (not fast at all by today’s standards, but back then it was high tech). Additionally, it was completely indoors and housed in a formidable looking concrete dome with points on the top that made it look like something from outer space (hence the name). But this wasn’t the worst part. In fact, if these were the only details of the ride, I wouldn’t have been scared at all. The worst part was the fact that the entire ride was conducted in the dark.
     So, back to the 11-year-old me. I had concluded that I needed to face this fear. So, I headed for Tomorrowland and waited in the ridiculously long line so I could be properly terrified. And I wasn’t disappointed. Several times I nearly jumped out of line after listening to the screams and shouts of other riders. But, eventually, I made it to the front of the line, sat myself in the spaceship-esque seat, strapped myself in and checked the strength of the seatbelt and lap-bar repeatedly. Then… boom!
     I don’t remember much about the actual ride. And I think that’s because I had my eyes closed the entire time. As the coaster jolted sharply, I heard people screaming with joy. I too was screaming…for my life.
     When the ride ended, I remember exiting the spaceship, my legs wobbling, and squinting into the brilliant sunshine outside. And I remember thinking, I did it. But that wasn’t all. I also remember thinking, that was great! Let’s do it again!
     Space Mountain became my favorite ride from that point on. I rode it multiple times on each visit (with my eyes open), and found it to be a terrific thrill. I wondered why I hadn’t ridden it before and was mad at myself for being so afraid. “I could have been riding this for years!” I thought to myself.
     So what changed? Well, once I discovered that I wasn’t going to die and that other people were actually having fun, I was free to enjoy the many twists and turns in the dark -- because I knew how it would end: with wobbly legs and bright sunshine.
     My experience with the Christian life hasn’t been much different. It was scary and intimidating at first. I refused to participate for years. But once I decided to experience it for myself, everything changed. And trusting in God enabled me to experience the true joy of life. And after that, I wanted to keep riding and riding. The Christian life, so to speak, became my favorite kind of life.
     God tells us that His plans are to prosper us and not to harm us. We need to trust that. We need to quit living in fear. We know how our lives will turn out if we trust God. And that’s what having faith is all about. So let’s open our eyes, hang on to the lap-bar, and… boom!
     May God bless you and your family this month. Keep your eyes open. Don’t let fear make you jump out of line. Stick it out. Trust that in the end, you’ll be deliriously squinting into God’s Light, shouting, “that was great! Let’s do it again!”

In Christ’s Service,

Rev. Jason P. Tucker

October 2009

“Don’t have anything to do with foolish and stupid arguments, because you know they produce quarrels. And the Lord’s servant must not quarrel; instead, he must be kind to everyone, able to teach, not resentful. Those who oppose him he must gently instruct, in the hope that God will grant them repentance leading them to a knowledge of the truth, and that they will come to their senses and escape from the trap of the devil, who has taken them captive to do his will.” (2 Timothy 2:23-26)

     I believe that Christians are the most overtly persecuted religious group in the United States. Don’t believe me? Here’s a field test. Let’s say you decide to run for local public office. During your campaign, you make it very clear that you are a practicing Buddhist, and even more, that it is the very bedrock of your life. I don’t think anyone would question your sanity, or ability to serve the needs of your constituents, based solely on your religious practices. Now let’s say you run for office as a practicing Christian. I may be wrong, but I think religion would become fair game for public criticism -- at least in this part of the country.
     And what about the media? I don’t think I need to convince you of their bias against Christianity. How many movies and T.V. shows have depicted Christians as intolerant, aggressive and ignorant? How many celebrities have openly attacked the Christian faith as a catalyst for war, discrimination and hate-speech?
     I could cite numerous examples, as I’m sure you could, regarding our cultural shift away from Christianity and toward anything else. We simply live in a day and age that assumes if you’re a Christian, you have a lot of explaining to do. America simply wants nothing to do with Christianity. And you know what? I don’t blame them.      Christians seem to have more exposure (and political power) than ever before. Think about all the best-selling books, the explosion of Christian music, The Passion of the Christ, the Chronicles of Narnia, Christian cable stations, T.V. preachers, etc.
     So why do people hate us so much? Because, while the exposure to Christian media is way up, the quality of the messages we’re sending is a bit suspect. The airwaves are filled with some pretty crazy things being said and done in the name of Jesus Christ. And most of the time, when I see Christians in the public arena, they’re yelling or arguing about something.
     Why would anyone think Christianity is attractive, relevant, or God’s saving Truth? Instead of living our lives by “loving God,” and “loving others” (The Greatest Commandment), it seems we’re always trying to win some public debate. Where is the joyful Christian life? We Christians seem to talk a good game about joy, but don’t experience it in everyday life.
     As Paul puts it in his letter to Timothy, “the Lord’s servant must not quarrel” because it only drives people away. Now that’s not to say that public debate is never important. Of course, we know it’s sometimes necessary. But if we spent more time worrying about living a life that imitated Christ, we would surely have a bigger impact on our country than we do by constantly arguing.
     A couple years ago, my cousin was visiting from California. She is a brilliant young woman who I don’t know real well but respect very much. She’s not a Christian (or at least wasn’t at the time), but she asked me about my faith. I told her of my conversion and how Christ changed my life. Later in the evening, we started getting into “debates” over human sexuality, salvation through other religions, etc. And at the end of the night, we were both frustrated, red-faced, and honestly, much farther apart in our beliefs than we were a few hours before. She even told me, “Jason, I believed you more when you told me how your faith changed your life, not when you tried to convince me with how much you know.”
     I have never forgotten that night. And I wish I could do it differently. But all I can do now is learn from it. The bottom line is that the power of our faith doesn’t come from words; it comes from our transformed lives.
     This is exactly our focus here at Avenel Church right now. As we explore how to live our lives “wide open” for God, we must first understand what God is calling us to do. And that comes through spending time with God in prayer and study. Our Adult Sunday School class will continue to meet at 9:00 a.m. in Ken Hunt Lounge through the month of October. It’s a series called “Faith Seeking Understanding,” a 13-week class that is covering the major doctrines of the Christian faith. And, for those who can’t make Sunday morning, there is a Wednesday Bible Study at 7:00 p.m. in Jacob Morgan Hall on Paul’s letter to the Romans. Please feel free to come as often as you like.
     May God continue to move and guide us by the power of the Holy Spirit to live our transformed lives for the world to see. Let’s move beyond “quarrelling” and move toward living the joyful Christian life. May God bless you and your family this month.

In Christ’s Service,
Rev. Jason P. Tucker

September 2009

“I can’t tell you how much I long for you to enter this wide-open, spacious life. We didn’t fence you in. The smallness you feel comes from within you.  Your lives aren’t small, but you’re living them in a small way.  I’m speaking as plainly as I can and with great affection. Open up your lives. Live openly and expansively!”  -- 2 Corinthians 6:11-13 (The Message)

     There’s no easy way to end summer, is there?  It just kind of collides into fall with reckless abandon.  Summer vacation is a blur, and we are left with nothing but pictures, sandy shoes, peeling skin, and maybe a novelty t-shirt or two.  The kids are back to school and we haven’t even fully unpacked from vacation.  And now, the thoughts of sunshine and hamburgers that occupied our brains for three months have quickly been overtaken by schedules and shopping lists.  In fact, people ask us where we went this summer and we struggle to remember—because those memories have already been purged from our minds. Our hectic schedules hurl us from place to place without a moment to spare. And somewhere in the chaos of this everyday living, between the morning coffee and the evening news, we start wondering, “Why am I so exhausted?”
     Everyday life is like a storm that rages all around us.  And it’s exhausting just trying to keep our heads above water. We hear the deafening wind, we see the turbulent waters, and we huddle together like panicked disciples crying out to God, with nothing on our minds but our own fear.  Sickness, war, paying the bills, college tuition, SAT scores, a bad alternator, computer viruses, tsunamis, elections, baby on the way, social security, job security, making a bad marriage good, keeping a good marriage good, dating, ministry, car loans, home loans, retirement investments, what to make for dinner…the storm indeed rages.  And with its incessant pounding on our brains, we begin to feel confined, restricted and very, very small.
     In this passage from 2 Corinthians, the apostle Paul discusses the “smallness we feel” in this midst of life’s continual storm. Sometimes we may be alive but we’re not really living.  You see, nothing’s going to change the fact that we need to provide for our family, or have a working vehicle, or need to think about the future, health care, retirement, etc.  Most of these things we can’t control, but we can control our reaction to these needs.  We can either curl up in the corner of our boat as the waves spray over the side, or we can faithfully stand tall, trusting that Jesus is on board and will see us safely through these choppy waters.
     And therein lies the key to living “openly and expansively” as Paul suggests.  It’s trusting that God will navigate us through this stormy life.  And it’s being open to any direction the boat is steered.  By living in this kind of trust, we are free to relax, free to enjoy the adventure, and free to live knowing that anything is possible.  We can actually be free enough to live a life that is wide-open.
     But we are never called to do it alone.  Christian faith is a faith lived in community.  It’s how we’re wired. There’s something about fellowship with other Christians that makes things better—that eases our burdens and helps us to grow closer with God.  This fall there will be many opportunities to grow in this community of faith.
     Two of these opportunities begin in September.  First, I will be teaching an adult Sunday school class every week beginning September 13th at 9:00 a.m. in Ken Hunt Lounge.  It’s called “Faith Seeking Understanding,” a 13-week class that will cover the major doctrines of the Christian faith.  And the second is a weekly bible study I will be teaching on Wednesday nights, beginning September 16th at 7:00 p.m. in Jacob Morgan Hall on Paul’s letter to the “Romans.”  Childcare will be provided (please sign up by calling the office).
     May God help all of us to look to Him even in the midst of life’s storm—the chaos of everyday living.  And may we shed our self-imposed sense of smallness and live in the wide-open spaces of God’s love.  Summer vacation may be over, but the freedom Christ brings never ends.  Have a blessed month!

In Christ,
Rev. Jason Tucker

August 2009