Author: Jon Partlow

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An Impossible Dream: Wannabe Knights Fighting Windmills

A hero lives within all of us. We champion the weak while triumphing over the wicked. Most of us have nurtured the hero at a young age by wearing a cape or mask and maybe packing a toy side arm. We pretended trees were our forts, boulders were lookout points and our bicycles were our horses. We fought our enemies and secured the safety of the damsel in distress. We dreamed an impossible dream.

As we entered adulthood the hero within us never died, but continued to thrive as we championed greater causes. Maybe we feed the homeless in a soup kitchen. Maybe we help lead one of the addiction support groups. Maybe we volunteer to read at the local elementary school. Maybe we collect supplies for a children’s home or loose change for a crisis pregnancy center. Deep down we know we’re doing good and helping overcome something bad.

Life can be complicated. And the battles we choose to fight hold the life we live in the balance, or at least we believe so. Too many times we’ve convinced ourselves we’re fighting giants when we’re really fighting windmills, and the dream is impossible to realize.

Don Quixote was the Man of La Mancha. A man of chivalry. A knight, or at least he saw himself as a knight. With his squire by his side, who was actually a poor farmer named Sancho, Don Quixote sought out his adventures to conquer evil and to save the good. His most notorious battle was the fierce giant. Everyone else only saw him fail at taking down a windmill.

I once had a conversation with my college roommate, Mike Anderson. Trying to be respectful, I was seeking insight to the personality of a mutual friend. This person tended to exaggerate problems and events, in part to make himself the hero of the story. At least that was my assessment. With Mike always diplomatic and a kind person, I needed him to taper my opinion. Instead, he concurred, saying, “Well, Jon, he does like to fight his windmills.” When we’re wannabe knights fighting windmills, it’s an impossible dream to reach.

Herein lies the difficulty of anyone who watches Don Quixote fight their windmills. A sense of reality has been abandoned and no one can tell the knight that what stands before him/her is only a windmill, not a giant. Or Don Quixote creates a crisis in order to pretend he/she has the answer to the produced problem. Either way, reality has been sacrificed for drama, and Sancho convincing The Man of La Mancha otherwise is just as futile as Don Quixote fighting the windmills.

Since trying to stop a person from fighting windmills is in and of itself an impossible dream, then redirecting our time and energy into something else might be more beneficial. By focusing on Jesus’ ministry we can solidly ground our own ministries and avoid chasing windmills.

Mark 10:45 is often thought of as the focal point to Mark’s gospel. Jesus, in responding to the disciples who wanted the top places of power in the kingdom, told them that “. . . the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give his life as a ransom for many.” Two words in this one verse brings discipleship and ministry away from the windmills and straight to its core.

Serve. Jesus didn’t expect people to serve him, but he did his best to serve others. The most explicit moment recorded of him serving is the washing of the disciples’ feet in John 13. Humiliating and degrading, Jesus willingly performs the task everyone else felt was beneath them. Regulated to the low-man on the totem pole, Jesus embraced and modeled servanthood for us. As one cliché nails this moment, “People don’t care about how much you know until they know how much you care.” Serving bridges the gap between what you know and how much you care.

Sacrifice. While Jesus had envisioned his crucifixion when he spoke these words, his entire ministry was cradled in sacrifice. He gave up heaven for earth (Phil 2:5-11). He gave up his time and energy so that he may heal the masses of people who came to him. Day after day he emptied himself so that God might fill him again to repeat the process time and time again.

Service and sacrifice keep ministry and discipleship well-grounded, not to mentioned, humbled. Even if we decide to fight windmills, and the temptation is always present for those battles, perspective and credibility is always built on service and sacrifice. Only then is the dream possible.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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A Royal Headache: The Strings Attached to the Crown

News from across the pond travels as fast as soundwaves, and is often felt like shockwaves reverberating on the waters. This week was no different as Harry and Meghan sat down with Oprah in a tell-all interview. Some of the details they outlined were headline-grabbing giving Buckingham Palace a royal headache. But are we really surprised? The Royal Family has had its fair share of drama from Charles and Diana to Charles and Camilla to Andrew’s link to Jeffery Epstein. The Royals could produce their own reality TV and, no doubt, be a blockbuster sell.

Harry and Meghan have abandoned their connection to the monarchy and moved to America to seek their lives independent of Great Britain. From Harry’s perspective he lost his mother and lays much of the blame on the British media. The same British media intruding on his private life then is intruding on his life now. He levels another part of the blame on The Firm, the insider term to describe the destructive and controlling system overlaying the Monarchy. That same system squeezed out his mother and was already squeezing out his wife. Clearly, being a Royal means that there are strings attached to the crown, and sometimes those strings have tangled with people’s lives. Fearing for their future, they chose to cut the strings, sort of, and walk away from the system to pursue life on their own terms.

I didn’t sit down to watch the interview, I have other things to worry about than tuning into wealthy, aristocratic sibling rivalry. But the interview blew up the news cycle. Even though the colonies broke from the Empire over 200 years ago, like an abusive relationship, we’re too emotionally attached to a family that has no control over our lives. So with Oprah leading the way, America (and other parts of the world) tuned in to what Harry and Meghan had to say. And they said a lot.

As much as I like Harry, and obviously I don’t know him personally, choosing a tell-all format is an unhealthy way to deal with conflict. In fact, it’s a power move because they have inside information they’re willing to share select pieces of with the world. They have evidence that should be kept within the confines of Buckingham Palace. Tell-all venues feed the goods and gossip, making you feel good in the moment. Unfortunately, the fallout leaves you feeling dirty. Sure, Harry tried protecting his grandmother from accusation, but the fan is too large to keep her from being hit with the words. What is clear is that between Diana and Meghan’s experience, the Cinderella-type stories are lies built with a house of cards. Ordinary people have no common identity with the Royals.

But two other statements from the interview are worth highlighting because they reach beyond aristocratic and paupers. The first is the fear of seeking mental health for the supposed stigma attached to it. Meghan was undergoing an emotional breakdown and the palace was afraid of the news media having a field day with that information. Denial of a problem is the real sign of weakness; seeking help is step of strength. Owning weakness is not only biblical but at the heart of the gospel (2 Cor. 12:5, 9-10). I’m not sure how the media would have responded, but I know individuals suffering are fearful of what people around them will say if they found out. Someone struggling with depression keeps suffering in silence. A marriage begins to unravel but signing up for counseling might expose the façade they’ve managed to create, so the marriage continues to unravel. Someone fears going to the doctor because something else wrong might be discovered. In the process, the condition worsens. Real strength acknowledges our weakness and steps into getting help.

The other statement came, not from Harry’s grandparents, but from the Firm. He refused to share the source, family or staff members, but the statement is disturbing at so many levels. “They” were disturbed by the possible skin tone of Harry and Meghan’s baby, Archie. People obsessed with optics rarely are concerned about people, but are focused on themselves. As unnerving as a preoccupation with skin color is, God has never focused on color. He’s focused on the heart (1 Sam. 16:7). Our own sinfulness keeps us from embracing and celebrating the diversity of God’s color scheme. Or the vision Martin Luther King once conveyed, we judge people not on the color of their skin but on the content of their character.

Before Meghan married Harry, British comedian, John Oliver, said that the Royal family was “. . . an emotionally stunted group of fundamentally flawed people.” He’s probably right. When anyone or family is focused on image and optics, then issues will be ignored and swept under the carpet. When a person or family of power is concerned with only image and optics, then the damage in its wake is severe. But we don’t have to be a Royal family to experience such dysfunction. We can take an honest look at ourselves.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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Christ, Christians & COVID-19: Where Do We Go from here?

Unlike Pearl Harbor, President Kennedy’s assassination, the Challenger explosion, or 9-11, the COVID-19 pandemic did not have a defining “Where were you when” moment. In December of 2019 we started hearing reports of a new virus in China, but like other news stories, it was emotionally discarded and soon believed to be long forgotten in the news cycle. But it wasn’t. More stories and reporting was highlighting the disease.

Three weeks into January 2020, the city of Wuhan went into lockdown. This was no rural town, but a metropolitan epi center boasting of modern technology and eleven million in population. I remember seeing workers in protective suits spraying the city streets down with disinfectant chemicals while citizens were in isolation/quarantine. By February the government, with amazing speed, built two new hospitals in Wuhan to treat the overflowing number of people suffering from this disease. By all accounts they were taking the virus seriously.

This was the defining moment for me. I began contemplating, “What if the virus comes to America?” “Will we go into lockdown” and “What will be the plan if we do?” Even more so, “How will the church adapt and respond?”

On March 15 Taylor and Lilly were riding home with me from worship services. Rumors were swirling that American cities were going into their own lockdown. Basketball tournaments had already been shelved with baseball’s season on the brink. I didn’t know what kind of travel bands might be activated. With Taylor’s husband deployed, I suggested she decide on one spot to live with us or her in-laws. She chose to live with us and did so for the next four months. And as it turned out March 15th was the last in-person worship service Sunshine experienced till June.

I wish the story ended in June, but it didn’t. As we came into fall, the number of COVID cases surged. Hospitals were overrun and the medical personnel on the front lines were physically and emotionally depleted if not traumatized by the death toll reaching a half a million people – and just in America alone. The constant isolation and general fear was wearing society out. On my own Homefront Cile was recovering from her own COVID infection; we canceled our yearly trip to Tennessee for Thanksgiving and Christmas. But with the New Year, the vaccine now in play and places of worship meeting for in-person services, hope is on the rise.

While God is the only one who holds tomorrow in his hands, we move forward with every step taken. Yes, we take him by the hand, but sometimes we’re stumbling around to find our way. Where we go from here is cautious, but filled with renewed faith.

First, we begin recognizing how vulnerable and fragile we really are, as Rich Mullins sings, “We are not as strong as we think we are.” COVID didn’t create dilemmas as much as it exasperated and exposed problems already present. For instance mental health issues were present before 2020, but the isolation and shutting down of needed social relationships created more room for anxiety to take hold. Marriages that ended this past year didn’t just happen to go bad. They were well on the divorce road before COVID hit. The anxiety and stress of a pandemic was the final straw. Peter looked really brave and strong as he stepped out of the boat, but all that was stripped from him when the waves took his focus off Jesus (Mt. 14:29-30).

Secondly, we have a deep desire to break the social distancing by re-engaging with each other. We miss the interaction of the in-person community. Still, getting together continues to feel like porcupines snuggling. Renewing relationships look good on paper, but acting it out still feels like a pipe dream. The political and ideological divide is widening as distrust on both sides of the isle escalates. Finger pointing and name calling is eroding the very foundation for which relationships are established and maintained. Paul warned the Galatians of “biting and devouring each other” and predicted destruction unless they began allowing the Spirit to control their lives (Gal.5:13-15, 22-26).

Finally, we’re called to display a sacrificial love for each other even though we’re very selfish at heart (1 Jn. 3:16-17). Jesus demonstrated his love for us by sacrificing himself for mankind. He gave up his rights, his positon and his power to die for us, calling on us to do the same (see 1 Pet. 2:21-23). Like preschooler children lining up for a drink at the drinking fountain, we demand to be first. We have to have it our way. Following 9-11 an elder commented to me that America was not in a position to sacrifice again like it did for the War Effort. He may have been right. We’re so consumed with our own personal rights, we fail to consider how our personal decisions are damaging and destroying those around us.

Where do we go from here? We take hold of Jesus and keep our eyes fastened on him, even with the waves crashing around us. As we’re nurturing our relationships, we allow Jesus to be the unifying factor, not our personal ideology. Then we follow him, emptying ourselves for each other. Such steps are far from easy, but when we arrive at our destination, it will be worth it.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)

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Trees Walking Around: Refocusing Our Blurred Vision of Jesus

“I see people . . . walking around like trees (Mk. 8:24). The blind man’s commentary on his healing was revealing. Nowhere else in the gospel did Jesus come close to a failed moment when someone wanted healing than this blind man of Bethsaida. The act took two takes with the first attempt leaving his eyesight barely improved. Barely.

Much ink has been spilt on this miraculous story trying to explain Jesus’ apparent power failure. But Mark may be using this story (Mk. 8:22-26) as the front end of Jesus’ journey to Jerusalem with a second back end healing of a blind man as Jesus reaches Jericho (Mk. 10:46-52). In other words the two healing stories of blind men hold the journey to Jerusalem in place so that the first blind man can see but still lacks 20/20 vision. The second blind man is able to focus his sights clearly on Jesus. The blind man may very well be representative of the disciples as they grapple with their blurred vision of Jesus. If that is the case, our vision is often just as crippling.

As Mark records the journey to Jerusalem, three teachable moments surface where Jesus clarifies his mission, ministry and mandate. Each of these moments include a prediction of what will unfold when Jesus reaches Jerusalem, followed by the disciple failure to grasp his teaching, concluding with further instructions on discipleship.

The first teachable moment (Mk. 8:31-38) occurs immediately following Peter’s confession in Caesarea Philippi. For the first time in Mark’s gospel Jesus lays out what they will find in Jerusalem. Of course, Peter, refusing to believe that Jesus will suffer at the hands of the Jews, pulls him aside for a rebuke. Yes, Peter rebuked Jesus!? But Jesus will have none of his (so-called) wisdom. Instead, he presents a vision of discipleship that includes cross carrying and sacrificing one’s life.

The second teachable moment (Mk. 9:30-37) appears as they were passing through Galilee. Once again, Jesus wants the Twelve to enter Jerusalem eyes wide opened as he’ll be executed but will be raised three days later. Mark tells us they didn’t understand (v. 32). And in case we needed evidence of their misunderstanding, they began arguing over which disciple was the greatest one. While Jesus is sacrificing his life, the disciples are debating which of them is number one. Jesus refocuses their attention by exhorting them to seek the number two spot. Instead of pursuing their own self-interests, approach life as if you are the least of these. No power. No authority. No sway (Mk. 9:30-37).

The final teachable moment (Mk. 10:21-45) surfaces as they were nearing Jerusalem itself with Jesus leading the way. Here, he outlines the most detailed description of the events about to unfold. Betrayed. Condemned. Mocked. Flogged. Killed. Resurrected. But James and John pull Jesus aside for a personal request of sitting in the place of power and position at his coming kingdom. Not only did he rebuff their request, but he redirected their attention that leadership does not mean lordship. Leadership means servanthood. Jesus came not to be served, but to serve. Thus, we follow his leadership model.

When we latch onto following Jesus but fail to see what discipleship really is, then we’re like the blind man Jesus is trying to heal. We see, but it’s all a blur almost like trees walking around. We operate from a power position. We control people’s movements and actions. We use relationships for personal gain then cast them aside when they no longer aid our agenda. We fight for rights as long as we get something of value from it, and fight as long as it cost us nothing. We mock people we disagree with and demean others who won’t let us have our way. We claim to see Jesus clearer than anyone else, but if the truth be known, we’re no better than the blind man standing by the side of the road needing to be silenced by those hearing our voices.

In order to see Jesus with clarity in vision, discipleship must be defined on his terms not ours. Following him means we’re willing to bear the burden while carrying our cross. We stop seeking to be first as we desire to embrace humility in owning the joy of being number two. Finally, we begin using our position and power to serve the people around us. Once our eyes are checked under these criteria, we’ll begin to see Jesus with clarity. We’ll begin seeing each other with clarity.

Soli Deo Gloria!
(i.e., only God is glorified!)