Author Archives: Jon Swanson

About Jon Swanson

Social media chaplain

I want to listen

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We’ve got a cell phone remembering challenge in our church services right now. Three times in four weeks. Once with the person unable to figure out how to make it stop.

(None of them have been quite as odd as the rooster crowing ringer that went off awhile back when I was preaching. I was in the last three sentences, the ones where my meanderings for the previous 29 minutes finally come together. And a rooster started crowing. I was sure that I hadn’t betrayed anything.)

I was thinking about how we could respond. We already put up slides and from time to time make oral announcements. We could escalate the warnings with images of phones being smashed or people being embarrassed or both. But the emphasis ends up being on the phone, on the disruption.

What if we focused instead on listening. The phone ringing isn’t a problem because phones are a problem. Or because it’s rude. The problem is that I have the attention span of a gnat. The problem is that I want to hear, that I need to hear, the message that  my friend has been working on all week, the message that God often hands him to aim at my self-centered heart.

We’re not trying to build a culture of politeness in church. Those of us who teach or preach often don’t care about polite. What we care about is connecting with people who want to listen.

As I was thinking about this idea of wanting to listen, I thought about Zacchaeus, a guy passionately aware that his focus on work was leaving him empty. So he found where Jesus was and climbed a tree to be able to see him. Incredibly impolite and undignified. But Z didn’t care. He wanted to listen. And Jesus connected.

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Here’s a “I want to listen” video draft I made. I’m curious about what you think. And don’t forget to turn your phone off this weekend.

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On Christian extremism

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I’ve been thinking a lot about Christians going to extremes recently. Here are some stories that I’ve noticed this week.

I watched a video about Ian and Larissa. They dated for ten months. And then he was in an accident. His brain and body were severely abused. After a long recovery process, where recovery means being able to understand each other, they got married.

Steve McCoy, a pastor, writes about his wife Molly’s struggles with Chiari Malformation. It’s a brain problem. She gets horrible headaches and worse. And there isn’t much that helps. Steve has many posts of their journey.  Recently, in the middle of one of the worst battles, he wrote:

We continue to talk and pray together about the goodness of God, His ability to heal and our request that He would heal Molly, and His power made perfect in weakness and the possibility of the weakness remaining rather than being taken away.

If you would, say a prayer for Molly and our family.

Bob Goff is a lawyer who sits at Disneyland to plan, is a friend of Don Miller, and founded Restore International:

Our goal is simple: to fight injustice. Restore International seeks to find daring and audacious ways to combat human rights violations, including forced prostitution and slave labor. Instead of just talking about it, we want to be actively seeking ways to bring hope, justice, and restoration.

Sunday night, I helped with a concert. A bunch of high school students want to keep young girls from Nepal from ending up in brothels by supporting Tiny Hands International. The free-will offering at the concert was over $6,000. After the event, Jon Andrews from Tiny Hands told them, “When your kids asked you what you did in high school, tell them you saved the lives of kids.”

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How Jesus once responded to success.

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You make a new commitment. You watch a friend die. You finally decide. You screw up. You get the award. You finish the book. You make the call. You answer the call. You finish. You start. You can’t figure it out. You didn’t get to sleep. You won. You lost.

Then it’s the next morning.

The success is dulled. The commitment, foggy. The future seems permanently distant, unaffected by whatever you might do today.

If this doesn’t sound familiar,  go refill your coffee and get on to your day. Don’t even waste time here.

If, however, you are reading this and you know exactly what I’m talking about (and you, at least do), do what Jesus did one morning.

The night before had been wonderful, powerful, exciting. People heard that Jesus was staying at Peter’s house. Everyone brought an illness or a demon for Jesus’ autograph. “Heal my mom,” they said. “Keep my brother from being thrown into the fire,” they said.

He did.

In a foreshadowing of the Best Buy parking lot on the Friday after Thanksgiving, people slept in a line outside the door, waiting to get the Magic Healing Touch, as Seen on TV.

Early the next morning Jesus left the house. He found “alone.” He prayed.

The disciples found him. They said he’d made the big time. Word of mouth worked. He said, “We’re going to another village. I gotta tell them the good news. That’s why I’m here.”

What happened out there?

His dad reminded him that his purpose wasn’t making people happy. His success wasn’t measured in crowds. He didn’t have to solve every problem.

He simply had to do what he had come to do.

The line is long outside our doors this morning. We can do what Jesus did. Talk to his dad.

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This was first posted on May 24, 2011

If you found this post helpful or challenging, subscribe to 300wordsaday.com for daily words about following Jesus.

On subtle affection.

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Monday afternoon, I sent Hope the links to a couple of music videos. I didn’t write much at all, just a couple words. But I knew she would understand. One was a group I like singing a song she knew. One was a group she knew with a musician I like. One was a singer we both like with a version of a line in a song that she likes.

That paragraph shows that in relationship, the parties can know each other well enough to not need lots of explanation. They can share things just for the sake of sharing, not trying to accomplish anything other than what I hope to accomplish with my emails: to let our daughter know that I’m thinking of her.

Yesterday I sent a link to Andrew of an article. I forwarded an email to Nancy. Sometimes I send videos or articles to all three of them. I’m inviting us into a shared experience, to laugh separately at the same story. We aren’t in the same places, but we all have the same last name and share 21 or 25 or more than 30 years of life.

I have been known to write longer messages to one or more of my immediate family. I’ve  made lists, identified plans. I’ve been directive. But often I just want to connect.

It makes me think of an image of God from Zephaniah, an Old Testament book not often considered warm and fuzzy. Yet in this prophecy is an image of touching base, of being present, of caring:

The Lord your God is with you,
he is mighty to save.
He will take great delight in you,
he will quiet you with his love,
he will rejoice over you with singing.

I listen closely, at times, for these casual links from God.

How Rich Dixon kept rolling.

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Many of you know my friend Rich Dixon. You see him here most mornings, sitting down in the comment box. Last fall, you helped him support Convoy of Hope as he rode his handcycle the length of the Mississippi, from Minnesota to New Orleans. You’ve read his book, Relentless Grace, about his learning to live after falling off the roof.

Last Monday, he wrote about the challenges some other people were taking on as they chose to follow Jesus

A full, abundant life involves hard work, sacrifice, and risk, because that’s where we experience excitement, joy, and authentic fulfillment. [God] absolutely invites us to leave our comfort zones, but it’s not because He wants us to be miserable. He knows a quest for comfort at all costs is a waste of life.

Last Tuesday, Rich went to the garage and discovered that the handcycle had been stolen from the garage while Rich and Becky were sitting in the house. He called the police, he walked through some fear and frustration, but by Thursday morning he wrote,

I remembered something I wrote during the ride: Life’s determined more by choices than by feelings.

I want to choose gratitude, even though I don’t feel entirely grateful. I’m thankful the thief just took a replaceable thing rather than entering the house and perhaps doing something much worse. I’m glad he escaped without detection, avoiding a potentially dangerous confrontation with us or our neighbors.

He got the cycle back on Friday, discovered in a pawn shop, delivered by the police. But  what’s clear to me is Rich kept his heart from being stolen. On Thursday, before he knew the cycle would be returned, while he still was unsure he’d be able to keep a commitment to ride again this summer, he wrote:

Of course I feel violated and a bunch of other emotions.

But this is an opportunity to choose intentional response over reflexive reactions. It’s not about denial, it’s about acknowledging and trying to make better choices.

I want to forgive, though I don’t feel forgiving. I want to be thankful even in the places that don’t feel like it. I want to believe God will use this for good, though it sure doesn’t feel very good right now.

I’m grateful for Rich’s honesty through the process last week, living up to what he said. But that’s Rich.

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For more information on his next ride, see Cincinnati to DC.