by Chip Johnson

​What is the difference between a peacemaker and a peacekeeper? First, we have to be clear about what peace is. My idea of peace is basically calm--like when I go to my favorite spot in the mountains or on the beach looking out at the clear blue water. Or I might think of peace as the absence of conflict. 

When the Bible talks about peace, it uses the Hebrew word, “shalom”(“eiréné” in Greek). Even today, shalom is used to say ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’ in Israel and for Jews all over the world. As it turns out, shalom has a much deeper meaning than my initial understanding of peace. Shalom paints a picture of unity and completeness. It is a reconciliation and redemption which ends up being something altogether new and complete.

This brings a fresh meaning to Paul’s letter to the church in Ephesus when he says, “For Christ himself has brought peace (eiréné) to us. He united Jews and Gentiles into one people, in his own body on the cross…” 
In a time of war, a peacekeeper is often a soldier or diplomat who gets enemies to agree to a cease-fire. In this case, peace is kept when conflict is avoided. As long as each keeps to his own side, there won’t be any trouble. When we focus on peacekeeping, our goal is to keep us safe the way we are. Peacekeeping is successful when warring sides manage to tolerate each other even as they remain enemies.

In his sermon on the mount, Jesus said, “Blessed are the peacemakers…” As peacemakers, we don’t simply avoid conflict, we create shalom. Jesus’ sacrifice on the cross didn’t just allow Jews and Gentiles to exist separately in relationship with God, it unified them as one--an entirely new people. A new kind of people were invented when Jesus brought us peace: Christians. We have been made complete together and there is no longer Jew or Gentile, male or female, master or slave--we have all been made children of God.

​As Jesus’ Church in the Treasure Valley, with all its diverse backgrounds and influx of new people, are we working to be peacemakers or peacekeepers...or do we even think of shalom much at all outside of our own personal sense of wellbeing?

by Chip Johnson

We have a coffee can on the kitchen counter where we put our loose change. Once we have enough change, the four of us go to the Coinstar machine, buy treats and go to a movie. One of my favorite cultural movie trends is seeing female characters presented in a more balanced way. Last week, we went to see a remake of Tomb Raider. Previously, the two Tomb Raider movies and the (now ancient) videogame presented the heroine, Lara Croft, as a buck-some, overtly sexualized, gun toting adventurer. It was a stretch to imagine Angelina Jolie jumping over boulders and narrowly escaping bad guys and booby traps. The new rendition of the Tomb Raider saga is different. Alicia Vikander plays the lead role as a capable and intelligent young woman. Not only is she strong and courageous (I found myself wondering what I would be willing to do--besides exercise--to get that kind of muscle definition), but she shows a depth of character in denying herself of her rightful inheritance and bravely searching for her missing father on a dangerous island.

There is something to be learned in all this that transcends movies and gender. What would happen if we saw the people around us in three dimensions? How often do I walk around judging people I see by how attractive they are and what social/cultural groups they represent. If they look clean-cut and well-dressed then I assume they are probably contributors to society. If I see someone with tattoos on their face or dirty clothes I steer clear because they are probably up to no good. In order for me to see these people in three dimensions I would have to get to know them. I would need to understand where they come from--their backstory. If I withheld judgement until I saw that third dimension, I might find out that there are more people worth knowing than I ever realized.

​As followers of Christ, we have an obligation to see the people around us, not just by how they look and act, but by who’s they are--God’s children whom He loves dearly. After all, wasn’t it a two-dimensional view of Jesus that caused his people to throw palm branches under his feet one minute and yell ‘crucify him!’ the next? We miss out on what God is up to and how we might be involved when we stop short of that third dimension.

by Chip Johnson

​I can remember hearing that word at an early age. As I was passing time in “big church” as a kid, my ears would perk up when I heard that someone was going to share their testimony. It was always a story. These stories followed a formula: a terrible sin or sickness in the past...hitting rock bottom...nowhere to turn but God...deliverance and victory. As I’ve grown up, I am beginning to see I’ve misunderstood what a testimony actually is.  The focus of the drug-addict-turned-preacher story was on ultimate victory over sin. The problem for me was that my own story was filled with a lack of resolution and few victories. I assumed, as many do, that my faith simply wasn’t strong enough to experience victory over sin or circumstance. 

Recently, I’ve come to realize my mistake. My testimony is not that I have survived sin or suffering, it is about how I survived. Not too long ago, my friend Dave Browning died of a brain tumor. He did not experience victory over cancer. This week, I met with a new friend  who survived cancer. It was a long and grueling process, but he came out the other side victorious and happy to be alive. The thing is, both these guys have the same testimony! One is alive and one died and yet their God-story is the same. Both men lived out the same message in the midst of their suffering: whatever happens, this story ends well. Both men maintained a sense of humor and were able to love on the very people who were there to care for them. Both men held tightly to the Father and were surrounded by people who shared their faith. While having no control of their circumstances, staring death in the face, they rode it out with Jesus.

I can get behind this kind of testimony! I seldom feel like I have control of my life. I do, however, have the ability to leverage my story in the midst of my circumstances--suffering or not. I can grab hold of my Father and trust him to sit with me. I can let people into my pain and uncertainty. I can embrace my lack of control and look to Jesus to guide me through to the other side--whatever that may be. What is your story...your testimony?

by Chip Johnson

​Whether you’re a fan or not, you have to give Meatloaf his place in stardom. The guy started performing in the 70’s and had hit music as well as acting parts on the big screen and theatrical stage for over 40 years. One of his more recognizable songs is “I’d Do Anything For Love,” which is a misleading title because the next line is “...but I won’t do that.” I grew up wondering what “that” was. When I was young I figured it was something like holding hands or kissing on the lips. As a teenager, I didn’t get that song at all because I would, indeed, have done anything for love. At this point in life, I think there are just some things I do reluctantly for love--landscaping, plumbing, most social gatherings, etc.
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Jesus had an excruciating way of seeking out the least, the last and the lost to show them love. I mean, lepers?!? Come on! Not only did Jesus love the “I won’t do that’s,” he made it abundantly clear that he expected his followers to do the same. If you are considering the idea of developing a spiritual discipline (hopefully in relationship with someone else since that’s how we do things around here) I would challenge you to consider finding your “I won’t do that” and see what it would take to “do that.” Buddy up and move out of your comfort zone and do something that would make Meatloaf blush.

by Chip Johnson
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This week I went up to my favorite spot past Arrow Rock dam for some solitude. Being fairly introverted, I spend plenty of time alone. Solitude is different. Solitude is where I slow down enough to show up in God’s presence, which is always in the present. Let me describe the experience and you decide if there’s anything you can relate to or want to experiment with.

I bought a bundle of firewood and loaded coats, blankets and a chair into my truck and drove to my spot. It was freezing! The temperature read 43 degrees, but the wind coming off the water made it much colder which I was fortunately prepared for. I built my fire, fussed with my blankets, ate my lunch and tried to read a bit. I didn’t realize at the time, but I spent the first hour and a half of my “solitude” being busy. I was “doing” all the things to be alone with God. It was after I ran out of things to do that I began to settle. I dozed off a couple times and watched the water. I closed my eyes and listened to the wind and trees...I was still. About the time I would normally become bored and pack up a thought occurred to me: just linger here a bit longer. It was not an audible voice, but I decided to sit there for a while. I didn’t experience anything. I didn’t hear God talking. I didn’t have any big epiphany or new clarity on life. I just lingered. Once the fire died out, I packed up my stuff and drove home. On the way home, there was a song that kept playing in my head: ”it is well...with my soul”. It dawned on me that it indeed was well with my soul. Something about stopping and lingering with my Father had filled and fed my soul in a way that doing never has and probably never will.

I don’t have a great grasp on the monastic reflective life. I am, however, learning the value of lingering in God’s presence. The Father wasn’t waiting for me next to the water, he was in me and around me waiting for me to sit long enough to be with him.

Do you know what I’m talking about? Do you think you’d be willing to try that kind of solitude?

by Chip Johnson

As kids, we got a ball stuck in a tree...not just any tree, the worst tree. It was probably 40 feet tall and the branches started about 30 feet from the ground. There was no way to climb the tree, so we had my dad help us lasso the tree near the branches. Our thinking was that we could pull the rope and make the tree sway enough to jostle the ball loose. Dad got on the far end of the rope and all the kids lined up in front of him in tug-of-war formation. On the count of three, we pulled as hard as we could. The tree barely moved and the first few kids in line got lifted into the air. Suddenly, we had a new game. We took turns holding onto the rope for dear life while it was pulled tight flinging us into the air. The key was to hold on with everything you had so when the rope went tight you wouldn’t let go and drop 20 feet to the ground. We played the “rope game” (not very creative name, but it stuck) for what seemed like hours. Truth be told, I don’t remember if the ball ever came down.

I’ve had similar experiences throughout my life and life with God--I think I’m going after the ball only to find out that there is a whole new thing to discover in the process. Before he was crucified, Jesus told his disciples that they should continue on the “way” he showed them and that he was going ahead to prepare for them and would meet them along the way. They, of course, had no idea what he was talking about. They were so concerned about where they were going that they couldn’t hear Jesus saying that “the way” was more important than the where. Jesus had the destination taken care of. His concern was that they be willing to engage life on the way until he came back to meet them. 

​Come play the rope game with me. We know how this story ends, why don’t we be the church that milks the journey for all it’s worth. Let’s do life together and enjoy all the surprises and side tracks along the way--together. I can’t think of a better way to honor Jesus and grow in relationship with God and each other.

by Chip Johnson

​Picture something in your mind for a moment: imagine you are standing in front of a pile of your sin. Everything you have ever done that destroys relationships and everything you have ever done to try and cover or fix your shame. I see a huge pile like a garbage dump out of control. Imagine you are standing there, in front of this stinking mountain of transgression and you suddenly notice Jesus. He’s there and you can see him and he can see you. Where do you picture him standing? What is his facial expression?

Many of us will picture him standing on the other side of the pile-- with a sad and disappointed look on his face--waiting for us to wade through the pile of sin to get to the other side and be with him. I picture him tapping his foot or playing games on his phone as he waits.

1John 4:18-19 says, “There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment...We love because he first loved us.” Jesus loved you first and since the beginning of time. His love, when we choose to trust it, drives out any fear of punishment or impatience on his part. Go back to your pile of sin and try this: picture Jesus standing next to you. His arm is around you and he has a suspicious smile on his face. He looks at you with that silly smile and says, “You’ve been busy!”. Then he laughs and a feeling of safety and calm washes over you. 
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Jesus knows your sin is forgiven. He wants you to know it as well. There may be consequences and pain mixed into that pile of sin. Jesus stands with you before it, faithful to walk alongside you and infinitely patient with the process of restoring messy relationships and melting away your shame. If you feel like sin is a barrier between you and God, hold onto this picture in your mind. Know that there is nothing upsetting to him about your sin. He knows and understands and will walk with you to the ends of the earth--loving you and maybe teasing you a little because he is light hearted and filled with joy about you.

by Chip Johnson

I don’t even know if Klondike uses that line anymore, but it’s stuck in my head and the jingle surfaces now and then in my random thoughts. Truth be told, for me, the better question would be “What did you do for a Klondike bar?” We all deal with stress in different ways. I eat. For some reason that probably goes back to my childhood, I eat food to feel better about uncomfortable stuff in life. When I have a fight with my wife, or make a mistake at work, I usually end up eating a piece of that cake they keep next to the register at Albertson’s. It’s an ironic behavior as I end up feeling worse about myself because I know the cake is bad for me… and the cycle continues: bad behavior, shame, cake, shame, tater tots with cheese on them, more shame, and so on. Eventually, I come to my senses and beg God to forgive me so I can break the cycle and move forward (which usually involves going to the gym). 

I’m not going to tell you to fight the cake cycle. Instead, I think you should invite God into the cycle from the beginning. Tell God about your shame. Put your failure on the table and ask him to come have some cake with you because that’s just what you do when you’re stressed out and feeling shame. What you might find is you begin to realize that God isn’t upset with you, with your sin or with your lack of coping skills. He enjoys you and enjoys gently loving you out of your cycles of sin and shame. Who knows, someday you may skip the cake, sit with your feelings and enjoy God the way He enjoys you. You might even begin to believe the great truth that there is nothing you can do that can make God love you any more or less. Also, try not to judge me if you ever see me eating cake--sometimes I just like it for the right reasons.

by Chip Johnson

​Over the past few months, the idea of the “false self” or “imposter” has come up in our Sunday teaching. Here is a quote from Thomas Merton on the false self:

What I like most about this is the thought that we often think of ourselves as invisible until we dress ourselves in something that will make us real and valid--in our own eyes and the eyes of the world. This could not be further from the truth. Each one of us is the vivid reflection of our God who created us in his image. We are his beloved children with whom he is infinitely pleased. 
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Maybe we could all take a moment today to absorb this truth and reflect gratitude to the God who sees us and made us so much more than invisible. ​

by Chip Johnson

​God loves you more than he hates sin. 

John 3:16 says, “For God so loved the world, he gave his son…” We’ve heard this verse a thousand times, and still, the message we often hear in church culture is “God hated sin so much, he gave his son…” Think about that for a moment. As much as God cannot abide sin, his love for you and me is what motivates him. I pretty much grew up thinking that God hated sin so much he had to send Jesus to die and solve my sin problem. I imagined God getting so fed up that he had to finally deal with sin and his only option was to have his son killed. There is no doubt Jesus’ sacrifice enables us to be forgiven of our sin--all of it. That sin, however, was not what God was thinking about when he sent Jesus. 

God was consumed by his love for us when he chose to make such a great sacrifice. Jesus was willing to sacrifice himself because of his love for all people. You might be like me and you are tempted to think of sin in terms of shame. We often feel like we might be a disappointment to God because we keep sinning. The opposite is true. God knows all about your sin and he is infinitely patient with you because he knows it’s all done and paid for--because he loves you.