Gardening in the Kingdom

When I was a kid growing up in Santa Clara, California, I would plant a vegetable garden every year. It was a habit I probably picked up from my Italian immigrant extended family. I still have memories of my grandmother picking squash in her own backyard garden in San Jose.

The first step was to turn the soil and break up the clods, maybe adding in some old grass clippings as mulch. Then I would make rows and mounds with furrows and moats for planting and watering. Then I would plant the seeds (no seedlings from the nursery back then). Zucchini squash, Italian cucumbers, Indian corn, string beans, tomatoes, carrots and maybe a watermelon. I would always plant radishes because they were the fastest growing and gave me a sense of hope early on.

All through the summer, I would water, weed, thin and pick off the amazingly plump tomato worms.

And of course, the most amazing of all experiences came at harvest--the reward for all the hard work.

"This is what the kingdom of God is like. A person scatters seed on the ground..." (Mark 4: 26).

Jesus ministered in an agrarian culture. So it is not odd at all that he so often uses farming to illustrate kingdom principles. The Sower and the Seed, The Wheat and the Tares, and here, the Patient Farmer.

This parable, however, makes it seem like the farmer hardly works at all. "Night and day, whether he sleeps or gets up, the seed sprouts and grows, although he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain--first the stalk, then the head, then the full kernel in the head" (Mark 4: 27-28).

The kingdom principle is this: the life of the kingdom is in the seed itself. The farmer's job is merely to sow the seed. God's job is to then cause the life inherent in the seed to do its thing. In Jesus' time, there was no irrigation or fertilization. The farmer could not make the seed grow any faster by brooding over it, or holding his breath, or gritting his teeth.

Then, when the proper time came, and the life of the kingdom inherent in the seed produced what it was designed to produce--harvest time had come. And now the farmer goes to work again.

"As soon as the grain is ripe, he puts the sickle to it, because the harvest has come" (Mark 4: 29).

Kinda makes me want to become a farmer. Except that we all know that farming is not that easy.

The kingdom principle that Jesus is teaching is this: the Gospel that we are sowing has the life of the kingdom within itself and will produce fruit if we will trust it. As Paul says in Romans, "I am not ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes" (Rom. 1: 16a).

God has called us all to become farmers in His field. Our job is to sow, water, weed, fertilize and tend in that garden. His job is to cause the life of the kingdom to work as a result.

And when that life begins to produce fruit, we get the joyous chance to put in the sickle and feel the joy of the harvest.

How's your crop doing?

How Guidance Works

I'm going through big changes in my life. And with that comes a real desire for hearing God's guiding voice. Which way should I go from here?

It's not the first time I've gone through this kind of change. In 1993, I made the transition from a successful career in IT management into full-time pastoral ministry. And looking back, I can very clearly see God's sovereign guidance.

But back then, before I knew how God was going to do it, I was almost completely in the dark. And now I understand that this is exactly how God usually does it.

Why do we have to go through such uncertainty when it comes to God's guidance? In our modern era, God has so many more options to communicate with us. Email, text, fax, Skype, FaceTime, IM, Facebook, fax, snail-mail and even the telephone. (I would have said Telex, but the last Telex was just sent recently.) And if the divine instructions are too big, there's always DropBox.

I have found a simple verse from Proverbs to be very helpful in understanding how God's guidance works.
"Trust in the LORD with all your heart,
And lean not on your own understanding,
In all your ways acknowledge him,
And he'll make your paths straight" (Proverbs 3: 4-5).

The first three lines of this verse describe my part in guidance and the fourth line describes God's part. So, just on the surface, one could say that guidance is three parts me and one part God. Therefore, it is probably appropriate that I focus more on my part and let God then do his part.

Just what is my part? To Trust in Him, not in my self, and acknowledge His God-ness all the time. What is His part? To stretch out the path in front of me. Sounds pretty simple, doesn't it? So why is it so hard in practice?

There are a couple of things that seem to keep me from really relying on, or leaning on God. First, I am blind (spiritually). I can't see God. I can't see the spiritual realm. I can't see the future. But I can see the material world and so, I assume that it is the only thing I can rely on.

But if we are really going to rely on God, we will have to admit to our "blindness." God CAN see all those things. So, why not grab hold of His hand and let Him lead?
"I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you and watch over you" (Ps. 32: 8).

Second, I am an emotional being. Don't get me wrong, I think we should pay attention to our emotions. God gave them to us for a reason--to know what is going on inside of us and to pay attention. But often, when I am full of worry, or fear, or shame, or anger--I can't hear God's voice over the noise.

I went to a 4th of July fireworks show at a stadium this week. While the show was on, it was impossible to have a conversation with my wife. The noise of the fireworks and music overpowered our voices. This is what tends to happen with our feelings. That's why it's probably not a good idea to make major life decisions in the middle of a crisis. We need to calm down, get some perspective so that we can hear God's voice without our feelings drowning Him out.

Third, I am very used to relying on my own cleverness and abilities to get by. So, it feels unnatural to let go of my machinations and to give myself to God's agenda. But if I really believe that His wisdom is superior to mine, then I will let go of my need to control and allow Him to lead.

It's like training my German Shepherd at obedience school. Learning to "heel" means that she learns to stay by my left side and walk at my pace. When I stop, she sits and waits. When I run, she quickens her pace. She learns this with a choke collar. She is jerked back if she runs ahead. She is jerked forward if she strays behind, She is jerked to the right if she doesn't make the turn with me. She is pushed to the left if she doesn't make that turn with me. She learns to pay very close attention to me and follow my lead. Once trained, she can do everything "off-leash."

"Do not be like the horse or mule, which have no understanding but must be controlled by bit and bridle or they will not come to you" (Ps. 32:9).

God wants us to follow Him without a leash. That's why we learn to trust in Him, not in ourselves. If we do, He will guide us to the right destination.

For me, God has used various methods to coax me onto a new path. As I continue to work on developing The Journey: a vineyard community, I feel him calling me back into the secular work world. Please be praying for me on this new phase of my journey with Him.

Update (3/21/19): In case you don't read forward from here, I'm currently serving as an Associate Pastor at the Vineyard Community Church Pomona/Claremont. And God has been there to guide me the whole way.

Beyond Fear

For many years, I thought that I was not a very fearful person.

But as I got in touch with my codependency, I realized that I was really afraid of what people thought of me. Did they think I was a good person? I was afraid of being judged inadequate, irresponsible and insensitive. A lot of my emotional energy was spent trying to please people. In fact, I came to realize that fear was probably the biggest debilitating issue in my life.

One of my early spiritual fathers, Dr. Albert Grimes, once said to me, "You must get healed from 'fear of people' because it will ruin your ministry."

Even now, after years of working on the underlying issues, I find that my own fears and anxieties, when left unchecked, are often at the root of some of my worst decisions.

That's one of the reasons I love Timothy so much. Evidently he struggled with fear in his ministry.


Timothy was Paul's young protege, the lead elder over the church in Ephesus. No minor assignment. And Paul wrote two of his most personally moving letters at the end of his ministry to his "son in the faith." Timothy had traveled with Paul and experienced his bold preaching and power ministry first-hand. But evidently, Timothy exhibited a kind of timidity when it came to preaching the gospel.


"For God did not give us the spirit of timidity (fear, cowardice), but a spirit of power, of love, and of self-discipline. So do not be ashamed to testify about our Lord, or ashamed of me his prisoner. But join with me in suffering for the gospel, by the power of God..." (2 Tim. 1: 7-8).

One of the key issues underlying fear is shame. Shame is the painful feeling that is evoked when my vulnerable and imperfect self is exposed for others to see. Shame can be one of the most intense and riveting emotions. Shyness and fear of public speaking are both
primarily about shame.

So, how did Paul encourage Timothy to get beyond his shame-based fear. Essentially, he encouraged him to turn from focusing on himself and what he might suffer--to God, his Spirit, and how He can empower us. From God's Spirit, we receive power, love and self-discipline.

Paul, himself, had found the freedom to serve God without giving in to fear.

"I am not ashamed of the Gospel, for it is the power of God for the salvation of everyone who believes..." (Rom. 1: 16).

"I am convinced that [nothing in all creation]...will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord" (Rom. 8: 38-39).

What are your fears? In what ways have you been timid about sharing the gospel?

How about asking God to fill you with his power, his love and his self-discipline?

The Beatitudes

Jesus began his longest discourse in Matthew's Gospel with what we call, "The Beatitudes."

"Blessed are the poor in spirit,
for theirs is the kingdom of heaven..." (Matt. 5: 3).

This list of kingdom proverbs is unusual for Jesus, who normally taught using parables. Each of the eight (some say nine, counting vv. 11-12 as separate from vs. 10) begins with the pronouncement of kingdom blessing.

"Blessed" means "joyfully favored by God." Those who are blessed now stand in the joyous shalom enjoyed by all the people of God who are under God's kingdom rule. Thus, for some reason, Jesus is saying that those who are "poor in spirit" actually stand in a state of blessedness.

The conventional Jewish wisdom was that it was those who felt powerful, together and confident who stood under God's blessing. Poverty was a sign of being cursed, not blessed. Spiritual pride was a sign of blessing.

Not all riches were seen as bringing blessing. The tax collectors may have been materially rich, but they were also "poor in spirit." They might be rich, but they could not feel pride before God.

Thus the story that Jesus tells in Luke 18: 9-14 about "The Pharisee and The Tax Collector." The Pharisee has done his religious duty and is able to confidently thank God for the holiness he has achieved. The Tax Collector cannot even look up towards God because of the shame he feels. Between the two, he is the one who is indeed "poor in spirit." And the punchline of this parable is that it is the Tax Collector, the one who is poor-in-spirit, who goes home justified before God.

Simon and Garfunkel wrote the song, "Blessed," inspired by the Beatitudes. "Blessed are the sat upon, spat upon, ratted on..."

Read through the list to understand the attitude of the one who is truly blessed in God's kingdom:
•  The poor in spirit--
(those who realize that they have nothing in themselves and need God's salvation);
•  The mourners--
(those who let go of their own agenda to take up their cross);
•  The meek--
(those who don't act out of ambition and lust for power, but learn to serve humbly);
•  The hungry/thirsty for righteousness--
(those in touch with their desire for godliness);
•  The merciful--
(those who care for others who are needy, rather than simply look out for self);
•  The pure in heart--
(those with a single mind focused on God with no hidden agendas);
•  The peacemakers--
(those who sew peace in relationships rather than stirring up strife);
•  The persecuted--
(those who accept the scorn of the world out of love for Christ).

The Beatitudes were revolutionary for Jesus' time. It was not the prideful and arrogant leaders of temples and palaces and commerce who were entering into the kingdom. It was "the sat upon, the spat upon, the ratted on." They heard with joy the promise of blessedness and came streaming into the kingdom.

How about you? Are you in touch with your own poverty of spirit? Reach out in humble dependence on him. If you do, you will be blessed and the kingdom of heaven will be yours.

The Heart of Ministry

This past week, I had the privilege of volunteering at a local outreach to the homeless. Various churches volunteer on a regular basis to hand out clothing and provide a free meal to people who obviously appreciate it.

I got to help out at the coffee station. And this gave me the freedom to engage several people in conversation.

One conversation was interesting. A rather intimidating figure came to our area, obviously angry with some interaction he had just experienced. The leaders have the guests sit at tables and wait to be invited to get in line for the food table. He had arrived and gone straight into the food line. Someone asked him to find a seat first and then get in line when his table was released. A reasonable request.

But he was someone who was filtering everything through "victim" lenses. You see, when you are living on the edge, it is common to encounter a pattern of authority figures saying, "No" or just pushing their weight around. Add to that, a childhood marked by abusive authority and abandonment, and you have a recipe for disaster. The food line worker was trying to help everyone get served. But this guest thought, "Here's one more power-hungry authority figure who thinks they can just push me around." And he got triggered.

The leader working with me decided to help him get served. She personally helped him through the line. And having received TLC, this brought him out of his foul mood.

I have heard pastors say, "I love the ministry--it's people I can't stand."

I can't begin to tell you how wrong-headed this attitude is. You see, ministry IS people. That is, Jesus did not die for fame or glory, He died for people. God loves people and the proof of that is Jesus.

"Dear friends, let us love one another, for love comes from God. Everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God. This is how God shows his love among us: He sent his one and only Son into the world that we might live through him. This is love, not that we loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son as the atoning sacrifice for our sins. Dear friends, since God so loved us, we also ought to love one another" (1 John 4: 7, 9-11).

If we are going to pick up the ministry of Jesus, we will love people. How do we know that? Jesus loved people. And He demonstrated that by going to the cross. "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends" (John 15: 13).

As the evening was wrapping up, the guest came back to the coffee station to talk. I could see that he was grateful for being treated with respect by my co-worker. As I engaged him in conversation, I began to see in him a hurting person who needed someone to listen and talk to him with dignity and respect. Perhaps he also needed a male authority figure to do that. So, I engaged him in conversation.

As we went deeper, I realized that there were a lot of painful childhood memories that were coming up. So I invited him to sit with me and talk. I merely asked questions and gave him the gift of listening and affirming. What had been a kind of power-defense position was now melted. He had been resistant to acknowledging God at all earlier in the evening. Now he allowed me to pray for God to bless him. I knew that this was a holy moment for him and perhaps a breakthrough. Only time will tell.

As we were preparing to leave, one of the leaders asked me with a sense of wonder, "What did you do?"

"What do you mean? I just listened to him and prayed for him."

"He has never been open to that kind of ministry. In fact, he has always come with an angry attitude and brought others who caused trouble."

I don't think there is anything special about me. The answer is simple: I had the opportunity to simply love someone in a way that they could feel it and God got his message of love through.

The challenge to all of us is to remember that the ministry is about people. God loves people and He calls us to love them too. Let us not get so caught up in external and material activity that we lose touch with the heart of ministry.

The Re-education of Mark Maki

I told the team of leaders who have joined me in The Journey Vineyard that the theme of this last year has been "The Re-education of Mark Maki."

It was on Monday, February 20, 2012 that God spoke clearly to me to shut down the church that I had planted in 2000 and plant a new church in Brea, California.

Looking back at the series of messages that I preached in those final weeks of the old church, all of the basic issues were there in my words. But I realize now that I didn't really understand the implications of my words. Somehow, deep in my gut, I needed to let go of my old ways and begin to embrace the new DNA that God was trying to impart to me.

God has been dragging me kicking and screaming into "missional" church planting. But I have constantly tried to grab onto the old, familiar "attractional" model--only natural, since that has been the history of my pastoring experience. When I let my own fears take hold, I tend to gravitate to the familiar. But when I let God calm my fears, I get back on track.

The only way that I could actually change was through one trial after another--accompanied by gut-wrenching pain.

Paul says in Romans: "Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope" (Rom. 5: 3-4).

James says something similar:  "Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything" (James 1: 2-4).

If we are going to mature, we will experience growing pains. Pain is necessary for growth. But I don't know if any of us feel anything like the "rejoicing" that Paul and James write about. In fact, sometimes I think they are just plain nuts. How can I actually rejoice in my suffering or consider my trials pure joy?

And yet, as I look back at the last year of difficulties, I begin to feel so thankful to God. And as I look forward to the new adventures that lie ahead, I feel a sense of hopeful expectation.

One of the things that God has shown me recently is that I must find a secular job in the community so that I can actually live out incarnational ministry in the same way I am teaching others. The problem for someone like me is that: 1. I have been in vocational ministry for so long, that I don't have a lot of marketable skills; 2. I have a resume that looks over-qualified (in terms of education and experience) for most entry level jobs; 3. I have a resume that looks under-qualified (because all my technical skills are so old). And I'm no spring chicken, so I am not particularly age-appropriate for entry-level work.

Yet, I feel a sense of hopeful expectation as I re-enter the work force.

God is good and God is faithful. No matter what you're going through, rejoice, for God is at work and He will ultimately produce maturity. Can you feel that sense of hopeful expectation yet?

Prayer is Communion

"True, whole prayer is nothing but love" (St. Augustine).

My definition for "Prayer" used to be "communication with God." But I have found this definition to be shallow and a bit misleading.

Yes, when we pray, we are engaged in a kind of communication. Yes, we often use words and we are addressing God. Yes, we are also listening to what God is saying to us.

But communication makes us think about an activity that we do that competes with all the other activities that we do. If we successfully carve out time for this activity, we may feel spiritual pride, like the Pharisee in Luke 18. If we are unsuccessful and fail to carve out time for prayer, we may feel shame. Neither of these are good results.

Don't get me wrong. I believe in carving out time for prayer. I believe in making lists and praying for specific things. I believe in practicing spiritual disciplines in order to "exercise myself unto godliness" (1 Tim. 4: 7).

But prayer is so much more than that. Prayer is communion with God. Communion comes from the Greek word, koinonia, which means "shared life." Rather than thinking of prayer as a religious activity that competes with all other activities, we should think about it as the expression of our relationship with God. Prayer happens as we live our lives in relationship with our Father.

Prayer requires us to make the long 18-inch journey from our heads to our hearts. Prayer is not just thinking thoughts about God, but living in a relational link with God. "The crisis of our prayer life is that our minds may be filled with ideas of God while our hearts remain far from him. Real prayer comes from the heart" (Henri Nouwen, The Way of the Heart, p. 71).

When the disciples watched Jesus' prayer life, they wanted to know more. "Lord, teach us to pray..." (Luke 11: 1). The disciples saw in Jesus' prayer life something significant. It was different than the religious prayers they were used to--memorized prayers, proper body postures, ritual times. Jesus' prayer was vibrant and alive; it was about relationship with the Father; it was effective and powerful.

Prayer is primarily an exercise of love: my love for God and His love for me.

Because prayer is communion and heart-focused, it is mystical. I don't believe we should ever feel that we've mastered it, like it is just one more task. It is mysterious, alive and, to a degree, dangerous.

In The Last Battle, C. S. Lewis' conclusion to the Narnia series, the characters finally enter Aslan's country (heaven). They find themselves bounding forward on a journey towards Aslan. Always going "further up and further in." Prayer is a call to always go "further up and further in" our relationship with God.

And as we do this, God is allowed to go deeper into our own hearts.

"In the beginning we are indeed the subject and the center of our prayers. But in God's time and in God's way a Copernican revolution takes place in our heart. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, there is a shift in our center of gravity. We pass from thinking of God as part of our life to the realization that we are part of his life. Wondrously and mysteriously, God moves from the periphery of our prayer experience to the center. A conversion of the heart takes place, a transformation of the spirit" (Richard Foster, Prayer: Finding the Heart's True Home, p. 15).

What would it look like to move from your head to your heart as the center of your prayer life?