Daring Faith: The Heart of Worship

A ballet company based in Providence, Rhode Island, has been putting on performances of the Christmas classic The Nutcracker for almost 40 years. Last November, however, they experienced a major setback when thieves took more than 50 costumes and headpieces — including the title character’s iconic mask and costume — worth a total of $30,000. In all, 52 items were reportedly stolen from the ballet company.

But there was some good news in this story: after hearing about this, more than a dozen dance companies nationwide offered to lend their own Nutcracker costumes to the Providence production. As the news spread about the theft, the Providence director began fielding phone calls left and right from other dance companies eager to help. As the director explained, “The ballet world is an incredibly tight-knit community and we are so grateful for the outpouring of support that we have already seen from so many ballet companies.”

This story warmed quite a few hearts this holiday season, demonstrating the depth of human kindness as people with similar interests and passions band together to help each other. But Jesus calls us to a deeper level of love – loving those who are not like us, loving the outsider, even loving our enemies. This is the transformative love that Jesus demonstrates in John 4.

John 4 is another story unique to John’s Gospel. It is Christ’s encounter with the woman at the well in Samaria, an outsider in every meaningful way.

Read John 4:1-4

“Now he had to go through Samaria.” Samaria was the territory immediately north of Judea. Geographically, it’s true that the most direct path from Judea to Galilee would lead through Samaria. But pious Jews in Jesus’ day made it a point to avoid Samaria. In fact, they would usually travel around Samaria rather than traveling through. Why? Because the Jews considered the Samaritans to be ethnically and spiritually inferior.

A little OT history as we begin. In 722 BC, Assyria conquered the Northern Kingdom and deported many of its people who belonged to the 10 northern tribes, replacing them with other ethnic groups. These people intermarried with the remaining Jews and their descendants were known as “the Samaritans.” By and large, these descendants were not idolaters, but they acknowledged only the Pentateuch as inspired by God. They also denied Jerusalem as the religious center, instead recognizing Mt. Gerazim as the place of worship. This is why they opposed Nehemiah’s rebuilding of Jerusalem in Nehemiah 2&4.

The Jews of Jesus’ day considered the Samaritans to be “outsiders” in every meaningful way. So when John notes that Jesus had to go through Samaria, he’s speaking of a theological necessity, not a geographic one. Jesus had to go through Samaria because Jesus was on a mission from God.

Read John 4:5-6

Another important detail: the sixth hour was midday. Jesus arrives at this well at high noon. Most people would go to the well to draw water early in the morning or late in the evening to avoid the midday heat. Socially, most people would have every reason to join their neighbors in the ritual of gathering water for the day’s chores. It was a time of talking and laughing, a communal act.

Unless you happened to be an outsider.

Read John 4:7-18

A nameless Samaritan woman arrives to draw her water. She’s alone; no friends accompanying her, no conversations about her husband or children, no sharing in the neighborhood gossip. This woman has avoided the crowded morning and evening routine. She’s come to draw her water when she expects the well to be desolate. But Jesus is waiting for her.

And Jesus initiates a conversation with her, a conversation about water. By now we know that in John’s Gospel, things are rarely as they seem. At one level, yes, the conversation is about H20; after all, Jesus has likely walked a dozen or more miles and he’s legitimately thirsty. But in John’s Gospel, there is always a deeper meaning. This conversation about water is an entrée to a deeper reality, a sign pointing toward the living water from on high.

As modern readers, it is easy for us to overlook the scandalous nature of this interaction. Pious Jewish males didn’t speak to women in public, particularly Jewish rabbis, particularly unmarried Jewish rabbis. In the ancient literature, one Jewish rabbi is considered especially pious because he refused to even speak to his mother in public, going so far as to cross over to the other side rather than shame himself by speaking to her.

But Jesus isn’t beholden to such customs. He initiates a conversation with this Samaritan woman by asking her for a drink…and she is as shocked as anyone by this! She reminds Jesus that Jews and Samaritans do not associate with one another. An alternate translation is, “Jews and Samaritans do not share utensils.” It’s as if she’s saying, “You want to use my Camelbak? Don’t you realize that it’s already contaminated by my cooties?”

But Jesus does something amazing here: by asking her for a drink, Jesus is actually verbalizing the question the Samaritan woman is asking. He asks her for a drink because this woman thirsts deeply, longing for something more than what she’s found so far. They go back and forth talking about water and John winks at us because we’re in the know: our Samaritan woman speaks of water from the ground while Jesus is talking about water from above; she’s talking about H20 while Jesus speaks of a spring of water welling up to eternal life. At this, the woman’s interest is piqued. She replies, Sir, give me this water so that I won’t get thirsty and have to keep coming here to draw water.

Jesus uncovers the area of her greatest thirst when he says, Go, call your husband and come back. I picture her eyes dropping; she stares at the ground and stammers, I have no husband. And Jesus, as the Word of truth, pierces her heart. He points out the ugly truth of her circumstances: she’s been married five times and she’s not even married to the man she’s living with currently. Every culture has words for a woman like this, and few of them are appropriate for our setting here this morning.

Now we understand why our Samaritan woman comes to draw her water at high noon. Now we understand why she comes to the well alone. We may not know her name from the text, but rest assured, her name was well known in her little village. This is the kind of woman who, when she walked down the street, mothers pulled their daughters close and whispered, “Take a good look, honey. That’s the kind of woman you don’t want to become.” She is an outsider among outsiders. Even among the outsiders of Samaria, she’s an outcast.

In a culture that continues to demean women to this day, Jesus is counter-cultural. Though our culture would judge her by the cut of her hair and the curve of her hip, Jesus sees so much more in our Samaritan woman. Even though she has made plenty of bad choices in her life, Jesus refuses to treat her with anything less than the dignity she deserves as one made in the image of God. In spite of all her baggage, Jesus does not consider her unworthy of redemption.

But our Samaritan woman has another trick up her sleeve. When Jesus pushes on the bruise, uncovering the area of hurt in her heart, she responds with a ninja move, a theological roundhouse: she poses a question about worship!

Read John 4:19-26 

Our Samaritan woman knows what we know: discussions about worship can be divisive. She poses a worship question that’s hundreds of years old: Who has it right, the Jews or the Samaritans? Is the proper place of worship Jerusalem or Mt. Gerazim? When things get a little too personal, it’s easy to toss out a question like this in hopes that the ensuing “worship wars” will provide an easy smokescreen, shifting the conversation away from the personal into more abstract territory. And I’ve long believed that’s why the Samaritan woman poses this question to Jesus. It’s a ninja move to get out of the messy conversation about her checkered past and present. But our Samaritan woman doesn’t realize that Jesus is a theological black belt himself.

Jesus swats away the question of “where” and redirects her to the more pressing question, the “who” question. God desires worship conducted in spirit and in truth. With a shrug of the shoulders, our Samaritan woman says, Well, I guess when the Messiah comes, he’ll straighten all of this out for us.

And that’s when Jesus does something He never does: He reveals His identity fully and completely to this Samaritan woman. I who speak to you am he. I’m the Messiah! I’m the One you’ve been looking for! The heart of worship is not a place; it’s a person. It’s Jesus. And this truth – just as it does for all of us – transforms her life.

Read John 4:28-30, 39-42

We could think of John 3 as the Gospel to “insiders.” As we noted last week, Nicodemus is a pious Jewish male, a Bible-believing “religious” person. He’s a respected community leader, a Pharisee. Yet he comes to Jesus under cloak of darkness. He’s something of an admirer of Jesus, but it takes some time for him to come to faith. Nicodemus seeks out Jesus, asking questions, puzzling over the answers Jesus provides. In every meaningful way, Nicodemus is an “insider.”

And in contrast to all of this, we could think of John 4 as the Gospel to “outsiders.” Our Samaritan woman is the antithesis of Nicodemus. He is male; she is female. He is Jewish; she’s a Samaritan. He is known for his piety; her claim to fame is her string of broken relationships and her current live-in boyfriend. Whereas Nicodemus seeks out Jesus at night, Jesus initiates dialogue with the Samaritan woman in broad daylight, at high noon. The name of Nicodemus was well known; he was revered as THE teacher in Israel, but our Samaritan woman isn’t even given a name in the text! In every meaningful way, the Samaritan woman is an “outsider.”

As different as these two figures might be, they are united by a common thread: Jesus. If John 3 is the Gospel to “insiders” and John 4 is the Gospel to “outsiders”, it should come as no surprise to find the most beloved verse in the Bible centrally located between the two. John 3:16, the Gospel to the world.

For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. As we said last week, this eternal life is a present reality. It is a possibility NOW, just as it was possible for Nicodemus, just as it was possible for the Samaritan woman.

The Good News about Jesus is for both the Nicodemuses and the Samaritan women. The Good News is Good News for both “insiders” and “outsiders” alike. According to the Word of God, it is Good News because it is Good News for the entire world.

The heart of worship is not a place; it is a person. It’s Jesus.

And Jesus welcomes the outsider. Because, let’s be honest…we’re all outsiders. We might clean up well, but we’re all broken by sin. Yet Jesus invites us in, welcomes us, tends to our hearts. Jesus has a word of Good News for both “insiders” and “outsiders” alike. And when we receive this Good News, there are no more “outsiders.” Instead, there are only broken, sinful people saved by the grace of a loving Savior. And this is the heart of worship.

The heart of worship is not a place; it is a person. It’s Jesus.

And this is Good News.

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Daring Faith: Born Again

In August of 2010, Judy Rivers of Logan, Alabama went to her local bank to open a new account. As the clerk input Rivers’ personal information, everything seemed to be going smoothly, but then the woman behind the desk stopped abruptly and frowned.

“That’s odd,” she said. “There seems to be an issue regarding your Social Security number.” With a skeptical glance, the employee rose and disappeared in the back room. Several minutes later, Rivers was greeted by the bank’s branch manager. With a folded sheet of paper in hand, the manager said, “Ma’am, your Social Security number was deactivated in 2008…due to your death.”

It turns out that Judy Rivers is just one of approximately 12,000 U.S. citizens per year who are accidentally declared dead by the Social Security Administration due to “keystroke errors.” In 2011, the Office of the Inspector General conducted an audit of the Death Master File, a computer database file made available by the Social Security Administration. The audit revealed that from May 2007 to April 2010, over 36,000 people had been erroneously added to the master file, making them legally dead. Without an active Social Security number, these individuals found that they were unable to make financial transactions, secure jobs, file taxes, or even visit the doctor. Worst of all, individuals like Judy Rivers had to endure the nightmare of trying to convince the U.S. government that they were NOT, in fact, deceased.

Judy Rivers needed to be “born again” — at least in the eyes of the United States Government. Today, as we continue our Daring Faith series, we will be looking at the conversation between Jesus and Nicodemus, an exchange centered on the idea of being “born again” – but not in the Judy Rivers sense of the term. When Jesus speaks of being born again, He’s talking about being “born from above.”

Read John 3:1-21

Nicodemus comes to Jesus in darkness, at night. This is no insignificant detail, for as with much of John’s Gospel, this encounter points to the conflict between light and darkness, truth and evil. Darkness bookends this teaching: Nicodemus comes to Jesus under cloak of darkness and John closes this section by saying, Light has come into the world, but people loved darkness instead of light because their deeds were evil. (John 3:19)

We often have a hard time leaving the darkness and stepping out into the light. We can fool ourselves into thinking that the darkness provides anonymity, an element of secrecy. What is revealed in the light is easier to conceal in darkness. I suspect this is the reason Nicodemus, a Pharisee, approaches Jesus at night for a clandestine Bible study. It’s easy to imagine that Nicodemus’s fellow Pharisees might not look too favorably on this particular meeting.

In John’s Gospel, there’s usually a deeper meaning. In this Gospel, darkness is equated with spiritual blindness. As a Pharisee, Nicodemus would’ve been considered one of the religious elite. He has spiritual credentials in spades. He’s steeped in the world of book, chapter, and verse. If there’s a travel ball team for Bible bowl, he’s on it. But in this encounter with Jesus, Nicodemus comes across as one with spiritual blindness.

Jesus says, “No one can see the kingdom of God unless they are born again.” And Nicodemus scratches his head. He doesn’t get it. Because he’s a literalist, he struggles to understand the mechanics of this teaching. He says, How can a man be born when he is old? And Jesus needles him a little: You are Israel’s teacher and do you not understand these things? Literally, the Greek reads, You are the teacher of Israel, further evidence of Nicodemus’s spiritual pedigree…but also an indictment re: his blindness!

This is really a pretty provocative story. Jesus implies that Nicodemus – a Pharisee and THE teacher of Israel – is spiritually blind. Jesus tells Nicodemus that unless he is born again, he won’t see the kingdom of God. And if you’re not seeing the kingdom of God, you’re not really seeing at all. For all of his religious pedigree, for all of his knowledge of the scriptures, and despite his status as THE teacher in Israel, Nicodemus is still spiritually blind.

I’m sympathetic toward Nicodemus; I’m a recovering Nicodemus myself. At times I find it difficult to leave the darkness and step out into the light. I know firsthand that it’s possible to be steeped in the world of book, chapter, and verse and still miss the point. I was captain of the Bible Bowl team, too – but there are plenty of times when, like Nicodemus, I’m spiritually blind as well.

We can relate to Nicodemus because we all need the same thing: we need to be born again.

In this text, the phrase “born again” can also be translated as “born from above.” According to biblical language experts, both translations are valid. And both phrases help with our understanding. To be born again is to be born above, to receive the new birth that only God can provide.

In January, we spoke at length about what it means for us to be a new creation. And all of that comes to bear here in John 3. Jesus says, I tell you the truth, no one can enter the kingdom of God unless he is born of water and the Spirit. The initial moment of rebirth – baptism – is a birth of both water and Spirit. Water is a central theme in John’s Gospel; this is one of 20 references to water in the story John is telling. Do you think it’s possible that all of those references are somehow interrelated? In the waters of baptism, the Spirit breathes new life into our bodies as our old self is crucified with Christ. Baptism is not just a death; it is a place of new life. In baptism, we are born above. So the daring question for the unbaptized is, “Would you be born again, born from above, born of water and Spirit?”

Renewal and rebirth begins with baptism but it certainly doesn’t end there. Our need for renewal is constant. We are perpetually reminded that we need to refocus on the cross. In one sense, our weekly observance of communion is a “rebirth” as we experience the renewal of this covenant by partaking the Lord’s Supper. So the daring question for the baptized is, “Would you be born again again? Would you be born above yet again as you reflect on the cross, as you live out the new Spirit-filled life brought about by your baptism?”

I read about a preacher who officiated his own son’s wedding. Early on in the ceremony, he told the bride and groom, “Your parents have prayed from the moment of your birth for that right person to come along to be your husband or wife. Your parents have been trying to help you become the kind of person who would find that right person.” And then he said, “But your true identity does not have anything to do with who you were born to, or where you were born, or when you were born. Your true identity has to do with when you were born again. (As we said last week, one word makes all the difference!) When you said yes to God, that changed everything.”

To be born again is to say yes to God. And that one word – YES – makes all the difference. Just like a good marriage can be characterized as a commitment to “live out your vows” in the years and decades that follow the marriage ceremony, following Jesus can similarly be understood as a commitment to “live out your baptism” long after the baptismal clothes have dried off. To be born again is to say yes to God, both in the baptistery and in the day-in, day-out life of discipleship that follows. Let me remind you of the words of Jesus we discussed last month: If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me, (Luke 9:23). Saying YES to God is that daily exercise of self-denial and cross-bearing, a process that leads us to perpetual spiritual rebirth.

The Nicodemus story is the context for the most well known verse in the Bible, John 3:16: For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. Given the context of John 3, it is fair to say that to be born again is to experience eternal life. One interesting note though: in the final phrase of the verse (have eternal life), the word “have” is a present tense verb. John doesn’t say that whoever believes will have eternal life in some future heavenly state. No, he says that eternal life is possible NOW, in the present! The verse literally reads, that whoever believes in him should not be perishing but may be having eternal life. As we said last month, new creation is a present reality.

To be born again is to experience eternal life NOW!

 

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Daring Faith: Word

One word makes all the difference.

Marketing experts preach the importance of putting the customer in the present. They say you need to help the customer imagine themselves actually using your product in the here and now. So when you’re writing copy, you don’t say, “Kids will love the fruity taste of Twizzlers!” Instead, you say, “Kids love the fruity taste of Twizzlers!” Removing that one word puts the customer in the present and automatically makes your product more appealing. According to the marketing gurus, that one word makes all the difference.

Several years ago, conversation analysts John Heritage and Jeffrey Robinson examined the impact when doctors changed just one word in their questions to their patients. They noted a dramatic difference when doctors replaced the word “anything” with the word “something.” For example, medical school training recommends that, after discussing the initial problem, doctors then ask, “Is there anything else we need to take care of today?” However, analysts have shown that questions containing the word “anything” typically receive negative responses. But the same research suggests that the question, “Is there something else we need to take care of today?” evokes a more positive response. Again, that one word apparently makes all the difference.

John’s Gospel points us to the one word that makes all the difference, the one word that makes all other words irrelevant. It is the Word of God, Jesus Christ.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it. (John 1:1-5)

With this prologue, John echoes the creation account of Genesis. Whereas the Gospel of Mark begins with the ministry of Jesus and both Matthew and Luke take us back to the birth of Jesus, John goes back even further to the beginning of creation. Life, light, darkness, “in the beginning”…these words and phrases remind us of Genesis. John points us to the eternal nature of Jesus as the divine Word of God. When God said, “Let there be light”, the Word of God (Jesus) was the active agent to accomplish the Father’s will. We this elsewhere in the Bible – Colossians 1, for example.

Here’s the idea central to all of this from Genesis 1 and John 1: When God speaks, creation occurs. And in Jesus, God has spoken a word of new creation.

According to John, Jesus was present with God the Father in the beginning: In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God. We can see here a distinction between God the Father and God the Son – they’re two distinct entities. But in the next line we see that, despite this distinction, they share an essential unity: and the Word was God. Now, John’s not trying to be confusing. He’s simply reiterating the unique status of Jesus: He is the Son of God, distinct and differentiated from God the Father and God the Spirit. Yet He also shares the same divine essence as both the Father and the Spirit. Father, Son, and Spirit together make up the entity we know as “God.”

But again, one word can make all the difference here. There are some who have chosen to translate the verse this way, “and the Word was with God and the Word was a God.” One little word can change the entire meaning and, in this case, with tragic results. This mistranslation undermines the uniquely divine status of Jesus.

As the Word of God, Jesus brings life and light. And John expands on these themes in v14:

The Word became flesh and made his dwelling among us. We have seen his glory, the glory of the One and Only, who came from the Father, full of grace and truth.

Last week we noted that faith is not an abstract enterprise, but rather it is an active verb, “a word that sweats.” And right up front, John articulates the Incarnation of Christ as a translation from the abstract to the concrete. The Word of God has come among us and made his dwelling among us. I love the way Eugene Peterson translates this in The Message: The Word became flesh and blood, and moved into the neighborhood. Literally, John says that Jesus has “tabernacled” among us. In ancient Israel, the tabernacle was the dwelling place of God among His people prior to the construction of the temple. So in Jesus, God is among His people again…he’s tabernacled among us…he’s moved back into the neighborhood! He’s done this by sending His Word into the world.

In order for God to speak to us, He has to come down to our level, using language we understand, because we have no way of getting to His level.

Last Monday, our youngest son, Jackson had an accident, cutting his leg open with a pocketknife. It could’ve been much worse, but the incision was large enough that he needed seven stitches. As the doctor was getting ready to sew him up, a child life specialist came in and talked with Jackson. She said it was her job to make sure that young patients at Women and Children’s Hospital understood what was going on. So she got down on his level and explained to him what was going to happen, using language that he could understand.

John points us to Jesus and he says, “This is a Word from God, a Word we can understand, a Word spoken in our language.” (Jackson is okay, by the way!)

And in v14, John gives us two descriptors to help us hear the Word properly: he says Jesus comes full of grace and truth.

Last week, we talked about Jesus as “The Truth” from John 14:6. And here in the prologue, John says that Jesus moves into our neighborhood “full of truth” – and John emphasizes this throughout his Gospel.

The first sign Jesus performs in John’s Gospel is turning water into wine. When you read through that story, Jesus seems a bit reluctant to perform this miracle. But his mother, Mary, is pretty insistent. Despite his objections, she turns to the servants and says, “Do whatever he tells you to do,” (John 2:5). That’s what you do when you recognize Jesus as the Word of God, a Word full of truth. You do what He tells you to do.

At the end of John 2, it says that Jesus didn’t need man’s testimony about man, for he knew what was in a man (2:25). He knows our condition, he knows what’s “in” us because He is Truth. And what is “in” us? Brokenness, corruption, depravity, evil…in a word, sin. The Bible says, “Your sin will find you out,” – because Jesus is Truth and you can’t run from the Truth. But the Bible also says, “The truth will set you free,” – because the Gospel truth is that Jesus came full of grace as well.

Jesus is the perfect expression of God’s grace toward us. As I was reading through John this week, I was struck by the references to John the Baptist: he was a witness, he came to bear witness, the testimony of John was to declare Jesus as the Lamb of God. And the reason this is significant is because – as John says – the Lamb of God takes away the sin of the world.

Jesus knows what is “in” us – because He is the Word of God full of truth.

But He takes away our sin – because He is the Word of God full of grace.

So here’s this week’s dare: would you dare to speak a word about Jesus to someone this week? Would you follow the example of John the Baptist by bearing witness to Jesus this week? Last month, we talked about the fact that one conversation can have an eternal impact. This week’s dare is to seek out those conversation points, to find a way to speak a word about Jesus.

And specifically, the dare is to speak a word of truth about Jesus and a word of grace about Jesus.

Maybe someone in your life needs to hear the truthful Word of God this week:

  • Everyone who sins is a slave to sin.
  • If someone strikes you on the right cheek, turn to him the other cheek also.
  • Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth…
  • Apart from me, you can do nothing…
  • If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me.

These are just a few of the truths that Jesus left us. Can you think of someone in your life that might need to hear these words of truth? And would you be daring enough to speak those words this week? If you’re going to be a truth-teller in someone’s life, it probably needs to be someone who really knows your heart. I’m guessing it’ll be a family member or a close friend.

Maybe someone in your life needs to hear the gracious Word of God this week:

  • It is not the healthy who need a doctor but the sick.
  • Do not let your hearts be troubled.
  • My grace is sufficient for you.
  • Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.
  • I am the resurrection and the life. He who believes in me will live, even though he dies.

These are just some of the gracious words Jesus left us. Can you think of someone in your life that might need to hear these words of grace? And would you be daring enough to speak those words this week?

This is our dare this week: to speak a word of truth and to speak a word of grace this week — all in the name of Jesus.

One word of truth could make all the difference

One word of grace could make all the difference

What are you daring by faith?

May the Word of God, Jesus Christ, be the word on our lips and the word on our hearts this week!

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Daring Faith: “I Faith”

Maybe you’re familiar with the game “Truth or Dare.” It’s a silly game that pits truth-telling against some kind of “dare.” Well, we can think of the Gospel of John as containing both truth and dares. John draws out the truth about Jesus and dares us to live in response. That’s the purpose of John’s Gospel.

Today we kick off a new series on John’s Gospel entitled “Daring Faith.” But we will begin with the end in mind. Rather than opening up to John 1, I want us to fast forward to the end of John’s Gospel.

John 20:30-31

Jesus did many other miraculous signs in the presence of his disciples, which are not recorded in this book. But these are written that you may believe that Jesus is the Christ, the Son of God, and that by believing you may have life in his name.

John writes with a clearly stated purpose: belief. We could safely assume that the other Gospel writers share this same objective, but John is the only one to state it so explicitly. John records the miraculous signs Jesus performed over the course of his ministry and he has this end in mind: he writes to help unbelievers believe and believers to continue believing. But the ultimate goal is to connect with the source of life: Jesus Christ.

I don’t know where you are in your spiritual life but I believe this: no matter where we might be right now, John has a Word for each of us. Maybe you’ve never made a faith commitment to Jesus. If that’s you, then you’ll hear Jesus say in John 1:39, “Come and see.” It’s a simple invitation for us to walk with Jesus for a while, to see what He’s all about. Maybe you’ve been walking with Jesus for a long time. Maybe, like Simon Peter, there’s a lot of “water under the bridge” between you and Jesus. Even so, know this: you’ll hear Jesus call you with the same consistent invitation you responded to all those years ago: Follow me (John 21:19). No matter where we are spiritually, the Word will be speaking to us in the Gospel of John.

And The Word will be calling us to a place of greater belief.

GLENDALE, AZ – FEBRUARY 01: Tom Brady #12 of the New England Patriots celebrates with the Vince Lombardi Trophy after defeating the Seattle Seahawks 28-24 to win Super Bowl XLIX at University of Phoenix Stadium on February 1, 2015 in Glendale, Arizona. (Photo by Christian Petersen/Getty Images)

We need to spend some time parsing this out. When we talk about “belief” today, we tend to speak of an intellectual endeavor. Prior to the Super Bowl, the talking heads offered up their opinions (beliefs) about the big game: who would win, keys to the game, etc. Leading up to the game, ESPN’s John Clayton wrote that Tom Brady was the greatest quarterback of all time. Clayton supported his claim with statistical data comparing Brady to Joe Montana, Peyton Manning, and Brett Favre. Clayton examined regular season records, regular season MVPs, career numbers and, of course, Super Bowl titles. (Of course, given Brady’s historic comeback victory, the case is probably closed.) In essence, Clayton was saying, “Here’s my belief and here’s my intellectual reasoning to support my claim.”

Last year, the shepherds of our church put together a document entitled “Core Beliefs.” These core beliefs emphasize the fundamental truths of scripture and, as a church family we give mental assent to these doctrinal concepts. Each statement contained a footnote of Biblical references, enabling the reader to see the clearly stated belief and the undergirding scriptures to support the claim. After reading that document, we could say, “Here are our beliefs and here are the biblical references in support of this reasoning.”

There’s nothing wrong with any of this; in fact, I believe that’s what is required of us when we live in obedience to the command to “love the Lord your God with all of your mind.” But we need to add an important point here, too. In the NT, belief is not abstract. It is not merely the domain of the intellect and mental assent. Rather, belief is active. To put it differently, belief is not something you have, it’s something that you do.

Some English words have both noun and verb form. For example, we say things like, “I dreamed a dream, I ironed with the iron, etc.” But not all English words have a verb and noun form. Faith would be one such word. In English we use faith as a noun, but it doesn’t correspond in verb form. Instead, what we say for the verb faith is, “I believe.” Here’s the reason this is important: in Greek (the language of the Gospel of John), the noun and verb form of faith are essentially the same. To “believe” something is to “faith” it. Again, faith is more than something you possess; it’s something you do.

The noun for faith does not occur anywhere in John’s twenty-one chapters. Nowhere does he use the noun faith. But the verb form is used throughout John’s Gospel. In English, this gets translated as “believe.” But “I believe” could also be translated as “I faith.”

Here’s the point of all this grammar talk: In John’s Gospel, faith is a verb. It’s more than intellectual assent or mental agreement. As an active verb, faith is a state of being. Faith = movement. I know I’m being repetitive here, but the point is an important one. Faith is something you do. In John’s Gospel, the crucial question is not, “Do you believe something is true?” The crucial question is, “Will you faith Jesus or not?

I want to suggest that we begin to think of faith as trusting obedience. To say “I faith Jesus” or “I believe Jesus” is to say, “I trust and obey Jesus.” I align myself to live in a relationship of obedient trust because Jesus is Lord.

As we journey through John together, we’ll come face-to-face with the Truth. And that’s important because belief is always rooted in a concept of truth. We believe in that which we assume to be true. Again, I’m back to ESPN’s John Clayton using statistics to argue for Tom Brady as the greatest of all time. The subjective belief claim (Brady as GOAT) is supported by objective data (touchdown passes, QB rating, Super Bowl victories, etc.). The truth of those statistics undergirds the belief claim.

And that has everything to do with the way we read John’s Gospel, because John goes to great lengths to demonstrate truth not as an abstract concept, but as a person. It is only in John’s Gospel that Jesus makes this claim: I am the way and the truth and the life, (John 14:6). Belief in Jesus isn’t undergirded by the truth about Jesus; it is undergirded by the truth of Jesus. Because Jesus IS truth.

We live in trusting obedience to Jesus because Jesus is the Truth.

This is underscored in the encounter between Pilate and Jesus in John 18. Jesus says, Everyone on the side of truth listens to me, (John 18:37). Of course they do. Those on the side of truth listen to Jesus because He IS Truth, truth in the flesh. But Pilate misses the point. He responds, “What is truth?” (John 18:38). Truth is not abstract (a “what”) but it is personal (a “who”).

John would have us “faith” in Jesus because Jesus IS Truth.

That’s why John’s Gospel shows Jesus employing a different teaching style. Unlike the Synoptic Gospels, John contains no parables. Instead, Jesus uses metaphors, saying things like, “I am the bread of life.” Instead of parable stories, Jesus presents himself as the living parable. “I am living water. I am the good shepherd. I am the true vine.” In reading John’s Gospel, we don’t walk away asking ourselves, “What was the meaning of that particular parable / teaching / story?” Instead, we are forced to ask ourselves, “Who is Jesus?”

And that question — “Who is Jesus?” — has greater implications for our state of being — what we do — than any other question.

So as we journey through the Gospel of John together, we’ll encounter the Truth – in the person of Jesus. And with that Truth, comes a dare. Each week, I’d like to dare us to do something in light of the Truth about Jesus. Again, we’re thinking of the Gospel of John as a word of both truth and dares.

So this week, the dare is simple. Would you read through the Gospel of John this week? Maybe a better way to put it is this: would you make the time to read through the Gospel of John this week? Based on the average person’s reading speed and the number of words in the Gospel of John, it should take you 63 minutes to read the Gospel of John from start to finish.

After the first quarter of 2016, Facebook reported that globally people spend more than 50 minutes a day across Facebook’s suite of mobile apps (Facebook, Instagram, Messenger). So again, the question is this: will we make the time to read through the Gospel of John this week?

Here is the big question I’m asking you to consider as we go through this study. What are you doing by faith? This is an altogether different question from “What do you believe?” I hope that our time studying John’s Gospel will help clarify and reinforce your belief. I hope that we will continue to grow in our understanding of what we believe and why we believe it.

But the primary question I want to keep before you through this study will be this one: What are you doing by faith? What is your trusting obedience leading you to do?

This is a question that I’ve been asking myself as I prepare for this series. What am I doing by faith? James tells us that we shouldn’t just be hearers of the Word; we should be doers. As we walk with Jesus through the Gospel of John, I hope we’ll be inspired to do faith.

Let’s do more than simply “believe in” Jesus.

Let’s “faith” Jesus.

What is your faith daring you to do?

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A Theological Reading of “In the Sanctuary of Outcasts”: Coke bottles

Toward the end of Neil White’s gripping memoir, “In the Sanctuary of Outcasts”, he records another encounter with Ella.

With his release looming, White was lamenting to Ella his lack of transformation. He writes, “I had decided I needed to change, but I was still the same man who walked through the gates a year earlier.” Rather than experiencing the deep-level reform he had anticipated, White felt largely unchanged and looked to Ella for words of wisdom.

“Hard on yourself,” she said, after I told her my apprehension.

I shook my head. “Everybody says I need to become a new person before I get out.”

“You is what you is.” Ella took a deep breath and looked across the inmate courtyard. “You know ’bout them drink bottles?” she asked.

“No.”

Ella proceeded to tell White a story. Years earlier, the Coca-Cola distributor from Baton Rouge would send only chipped and cracked Coke bottles to Carville. The reason? So he wouldn’t have to accept the return bottles. The distributor feared the public backlash if customers discovered their glass Coke bottles had once touched the lips of leprosy patients.

Thus, Carville accumulated a massive collection of cracked and chipped Coke bottles.

“More drink bottles than you ever seen,” she said. The crates of bottles filled closets and storerooms. But the patients discovered new uses for the nonreturnable bottles. They used them as flower vases with beautiful arrangements. They became sugar dispensers in the cafeteria. For impromptu bowling games on the lawn, the bottles were used as pins. They were turned upside down and stuffed into the dirt to line flower beds and walks on the Carville grounds.

“CoCola bottle still a CoCola bottle,” Ella said. “Just found ’em a new purpose.”

The church is this collection of cracked and chipped bottles, repurposed for the sake of the Kingdom.

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Fixer Upper: The Hope of Creation

We’re suckers for home renovation shows.

600x600bb-85A dozen years ago, it was Trading Spaces. (Remember that show? It kinda put TLC on the map.) Then it was the Extreme Home Makeover craze. About five years ago, Sunny and I fell in love with House Hunters. Now there’s House Hunters International, Flip or Flop, Property Brothers…trust me, there’s a lot of them. Most recently, we’ve started watching Fixer Upper. Since today was a snow day no-school day, we all sat down to watch the latest episode. It was amazing to see Chip and Joanna completely gut this old farm house in Waco and turn it into a showpiece property. With a little imagination and a lot of manpower (not to mention cash), this decades-old dilapidated home was transfigured into a brand new, opulent living space complete with hardwood floors, granite countertops and (of course) stainless steel appliances. I have to say, it was quite an impressive renovation.

Have you ever wondered why we’re so infatuated with these kinds of shows? The premise never changes: find a property and — in ways both great and small — restore it, renew it, renovate it. Why are these programs so popular?

I believe it’s because renewal is the hope of creation.


I’m currently reeling from some painful news that’s sent me into something of an emotional tailspin. It’s brought up a lot of old memories for me, a lot of sorrow, and opened some fresh wounds that will take considerable time to heal. Honestly, dealing with grief has been a constant in my life for many years…and it just gets old. And it’s easy to feel as if I’m starting this new year with a heavy burden on my shoulders.

I’ve decided to read Ecclesiastes as I begin a new year in the Scriptures. And tonight I came across these words from Kohelet, also known as “The Teacher”:

Everything is wearisome, more than one can express; the eye is not satisfied with seeing, the ear not filled up with hearing. What has been is what will be, what has been done is what will be done, and there is nothing new under the sun.

Is there something of which it is said, “See, this is new?” It existed already in the ages before us. (Eccl. 1:8-10, CJB)

As odd as it sounds, I found these words to be comforting, even life-giving. While some might think of this as a “downer” text, I’m thankful to have found these words tonight. I feel as if I’ve found a companion; I’ve found a biblical witness to give voice to what I’m feeling right now. Everything is wearisome to me right now. All of this feels too familiar, like the fifth verse to a song that won’t end. A new year, but the “same old, same old.”

In Kohelet, the Teacher, I have a compatriot for the days when renewal seems remote and distant. For this, I’m giving thanks tonight.

But the hope for renewal remains ever-present, buoyed by the scope of God’s most inclusive promise in the Bible’s closing scene:

I am making all things new. (Rev. 21:5)

From His glorious throne, God answers Kohelet’s question. “Is there anything new?” the Teacher asks. According to the Sovereign King, yes.

All things are made new. 

According to the One seated on the throne, all things are renovated, all things are transfigured, all things are renewed by the power of His spoken word. In John’s vision, the loud voice emanates from the throne, declaring the end of tears, death, mourning, and pain. We rejoice as the old order passes away, replaced by new heavens and a new earth.

The story of God ends in glory. 

That’s why we love those renovation shows. They point to the glorious end when all things are renewed and restored, made right once more by our Sovereign God.

This is the hope of creation.

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A Theological Reading of “In the Sanctuary of Outcasts”: Church

insanctuary3I just finished Neil White’s fantastic memoir In the Sanctuary of Outcasts. White spent 12 months — spring 1993 to spring 1994 — incarcerated at the minimum-security Federal Medical Center in Carville, Louisiana. What made this incarceration unique was the “convergence of cultures” at Carville as federal inmates and prison guards shared the Federal Medical Center campus with 130 leprosy patients at the nation’s last leprosarium. In the Sanctuary of Outcasts is White’s firsthand account of his transformative experience among society’s outsiders.

Convicted of bank fraud and check kiting, White recounts being immediately thrust into community with thieves and killers, far removed from his world of starched shirts and five-star dining. Moreover, White’s imprisonment entailed a year of separation from his young family. Although his marriage was an unfortunate casualty of his detention, White candidly writes about his intentional efforts to maintain his relationship with his children. For this reason alone, In the Sanctuary of Outcasts is at once heartbreaking and stirring.

Faith emerges as a central theme in White’s “convergence of cultures.” In addition to the mingling of miscreants and Hansen’s disease patients (as White notes, the term “leper” carries a pejorative connotation and should not be used), Carville’s community also included an ancient order of nuns who ministered to the patients. One of the book’s central figures is Father Reynolds, the Catholic priest who oversees weekly mass and Bible studies for this hodgepodge congregation. Father Reynolds’ graciousness was integral as White comes to grips with his own pride and self-advancement.

Days after completing In the Sanctuary of Outcasts, it is White’s articulation of church that stands out most to me. Prior to his conviction, White’s church attendance was simply ornamental, one more feature of the upstanding image he desperately sought to maintain. Sure, he attended church, White admits, but only because doing so was good for business. But at Carville, seated among his fellow inmates and the disfigured, blind, and broken members of the leprosarium, White was free to take off the mask, to drop his pretensions, and to accept the reality of his humanity. Only in a place where everyone’s brokenness was on full display was White free to truly be himself — before others and before God.

One of the most meaningful relationships White formed was with an 80-year-old Hansen’s patient named Ella, a resident at Carville for nearly 70 years. Prior to his release, Ella implored White to find a church home and to continue along his newfound spiritual journey. White has this to say about the import of that conversation:

But at some point after I settled in Oxford, I would take Ella’s advice and find a church. Not just any church. A place like the church at Carville. Where the parishioners were broken and chipped and cracked. A place to go when I needed help. A place to ask forgiveness. A sacred place where people were not consumed with image or money.

I didn’t know if a church like this existed, but if it did I would go. And I would pray. Not the kind of prayers I used to say for miracles or money or advancement. I would ask for something more simple. I would pray for recollection — pray that I would never forget. (p. 303)

White’s desire for this kind of community — a community free of pretense, a place where brokenness is universally acknowledged and help is both asked for and freely given — especially resonates with me. I believe that most of us desire the same kind of community. We’re all looking for a place to belong. I frequently talk to people who tell me they’re longing for a place like the community White describes: a place to be known, a place to remember, a place to ask forgiveness.

And like White, many of these people question whether such a place — such a church — actually exists.

In the Sanctuary of Outcasts fires my imagination toward the kind of community God creates: the kind of community where strangers become family, where wolf lives with lamb, where criminals and pariahs take their seats alongside the pious and the faithful.

What if the church truly became a place of sanctuary for the outcasts?

 

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Best Songs of 2016

A rejoinder to my best albums post, here are my 25 favorite songs released this year. Happy New Year to you!

  1. “Burn the Witch” by Radiohead. 
  2. “In Bloom” by Sturgill Simpson. 
  3. “What Dreams May Come” by Michael McDermott. 
  4. “No Hard Feelings” by The Avett Brothers. 
  5. “Daydreaming” by Radiohead. 
  6. “There Will Be Time” by Mumford & Sons.
  7. “Stone” by Lee Dewyze. 
  8. “Shadow in the Window” by Michael McDermott. 
  9. “I’m Moving On” by Dylan LeBlanc.
  10. “Ain’t No Man” by The Avett Brothers.
  11. “Spirit” by Amos Lee. 
  12. “Forever Country” by Various Artists. 
  13. “All Around You” by Sturgill Simpson. 
  14. “Good Good Father” by Chris Tomlin.
  15. “True Love Waits” by Radiohead. 
  16. “Smile” by Durand Jones & The Indications.
  17. “You Are My Sunshine” by Morgane Stapleton (with Chris Stapleton). 
  18. “Muchacho” by Kings of Leon.
  19. “Part Two – In My Own Way” by Ray Lamontagne. 
  20. “Me and My Girl” by Vince Gill. 
  21. “When Things Fall Apart” by Augustines. 
  22. “I Cried” by Brandy Clark. 
  23. “Shine” by Ben Harper & The Innocent Criminals. 
  24. “Follow” by Whitney.
  25. “Yellow Eyes” by Rayland Baxter. 
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Top Ten Pearl Jam Songs

I’ve been following Pearl Jam for the past 25 years. I was a freshman in high school when they burst onto the rock / grunge / alternative scene in 1991. In honor of their recent induction into the Rock ‘n Roll Hall of Fame, here are my Top Ten Favorite Pearl Jam Songs:

  1. “Black” from Ten. This has always been my favorite PJ song. Dark, brooding, evocative, emotional…it checks all the boxes. Most meaningful line: “And now my bitter hands / cradle broken glass / of what was everything.”
  2. “Better Man” from Vitalogy. Never released as a single, “Better Man” is one of the band’s most popular songs. As with most of their most emotionally resonant songs, this one comes from Vedder’s relationships — in particular, his stepfather. Most meaningful line: “She dreams in color / she dreams in red / can’t find a better man.”
  3. “Release” from PJ20 soundtrack. Vedder’s ode to his deceased father is cathartic for me. Most meaningful line: “I am myself / Like you somehow.”
  4. “Nothingman” from VitalogyThere are probably many ways to interpret this song, but as this album was the soundtrack to my senior year of high school, I can’t help but think of it in light of my mother’s death. Most meaningful line: “Once divided / nothing left to subtract.” Do you know that feeling?
  5. “Just Breathe” from BackspacerWith age, PJ’s perspective has shifted to more hopeful reflections. The best of these cuts is 2009’s “Just Breathe.” Most meaningful line: “Yeah, I’m a lucky man / To count on both hands the ones I love.” I know that feeling, too.
  6. “Dissident” from Vs. The guitar work here is still some of the band’s finest. Most meaningful line: “When she couldn’t hold, she folded / A dissident is here.”
  7. “Come Back” from Pearl Jam. Another entry from the band’s second decade. Gossard’s outro is just awesome. Most meaningful line: “And sometimes you’re there / And you’re talking back to me / Come the morning I could swear you’re next to me.”
  8. “Daughter” from Vs. Most meaningful line: “She holds the hand that holds her down / she will rise above.”
  9. “Yellow Ledbetter.” How did this song not make the final cut for Ten? And how good were those recording sessions? The lyrics to this one are somewhat oblique, but that’s due to the likely subject material (the loss of a loved one in an overseas conflict). Most meaningful line: “I don’t, I don’t know whether I was the boxer or the bag”
  10. “Nothing As It Seems” from Binaural. This one may not be as well known as some of the “hits” on this list, but it’s a fantastic song, demonstrating the band’s staying power. Most meaningful line: “Occupations overthrown / A whisper through a megaphone.”
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Best Albums of 2016

I love all kinds of music. This year we made the decision to begin a Spotify Premium family subscription, so I have access to even more music than ever before. As always, there are a couple of albums that especially resonated with me. Here’s a list of my favorite albums released this year.

  1. Radiohead, A Moon Samoonshapedpool.0.0haped Pool. Radiohead’s A Moon Shaped Pool opens with a song that’s been floating around since the Hail to the Thief days entitled “Burn the Witch.” Lest you mistake the song for 15-year-old leftovers, know this: “Burn the Witch” is easily the most prescient song of 2016. “This is a low-flying panic attack,” Thom Yorke sings over a bed of frenetic strings played to maximum eeriness under the direction of Jonny Greenwood. Radiohead’s ode to paranoia, xenophobia, and fearmongering perfectly encapsulates the tenor of this topsy-turvy year. And that’s just for starters. The rest of the album follows suit, playing off these existential themes. A darkness creeps into your life, leaving you nowhere to hide on “Decks Dark.” Broken hearts make it rain (and rain, and rain…) on “Identikit.” On the piano-driven “Daydreaming”, Yorke warns that “dreamers / they never learn” before the song closes with words “half my life” sung / spoken backward — seemingly an allusion to Yorke’s recent break-up with his longtime girlfriend. But these dark themes are contrasted by the music, some of the most gorgeous and sonically arresting arrangements in the band’s lengthy canon. Depressing music has never sounded so beautiful. The album closes with another live favorite, “True Love Waits”, appearing for the first time as a studio cut. The arrangement here is sparse — a piano and bass are the only accompaniment for Yorke’s forlorn falsetto. “I’ll drown my beliefs / to have your babies / I’ll dress like your niece / and wash your swollen feet / Just don’t leave.” You’ll be hard pressed to find a more raw love song recorded this year. From start to finish, there’s not a false note or line in the whole album. A Moon Shaped Pool ranks right up there with Radiohead’s classic albums. Download this: “True Love Waits”, “Burn the Witch”, “Glass Eyes”, “Decks Dark”, and “Daydreaming.”
  2. Sturgill Simpson, A Sailor’s Guide to Earth. This was the year I really fell in love with the music of Sturgill Simpson. A Sailor’s Guide to Earth is Sturgill’s ode to parenthood, a loose concept album written to his young son. Simpson builds on his trademark “real country” cred — the guy channels 1978 Merle & Waylon — with an expanded pallet, including horns and a string section. The result is an album filled with tenderly poignant moments, such as “Breakers Roar” (“Open up your heart and you’ll find love all around“) and “Oh Sarah” (“I can’t get past the pain of what I want to say to you / I’m too old now to learn how to let you in“). The album’s highlight is Simpson’s reimagining of the Nirvana classic “In Bloom,” visaged here as a string / pedal steel heavy Americana ballad. He tweaks the lyrics slightly in the refrain: “But he don’t know what it means / to love someone.” The addition is significant and it adds new flourishes of both depth and nuance to a song firmly entrenched in the consciousness of many listeners (like me). In an album filled with special moments, Sturgill’s cover is the pinnacle, perhaps the song of the year in my opinion. Download this: “In Bloom”, “Sea Stories”, “Breakers Roar”, “All Around You”, and “Keep It Between the Lines.”
  3. Whitney, Light Upon the Lake. Whitney is my new favorite indie band. Formed by members of the defunct Smith Westerns, Whitney specializes in the kind of atmospheric, dreamy guitar-and-piano-and-falsetto sound popularized by Fleet Foxes a decade ago. But this kind of earnest folk rock is one of my favorite genres these days. Pitchfork refers to Light Upon the Lake as “a great warm weather rock’n’roll record.” That’s a great description of this album. The instrumentation is typically crisp, whereas the vocals are softer, fuzzier, warmer. But that’s not a bad thing. The perfect mix of positive vibes and melancholy, Light Upon the Lake is precisely the kind of record I needed for 2016. There’s just enough self-reflection here to leave me wanting a lot more. Download this: “No Woman”, “Golden Days”, “Follow”, and “No Matter Where We Go.”
  4. Michael McDermott, Willow Springs. McDermott has long been one of my favorite artists. It’s really a travesty that he’s not a household name. His self-titled album from the late 90s still stands as one of my 10 favorite albums ever. Willow Springs continues to build on his canon of fantastic songs. McDermott’s trademark is his ability to make you feel. I broke down the first time I heard “Shadow in the Window”, written in the aftermath of the death of McDermott’s father. The final refrain of the song — a stream of countless “I love you”s — is both heart wrenching and moving. Download this: “Soldiers of the Same War”, “Shadow in the Window”, “What Dreams May Come”, and “Let A Little Light In.”
  5. Amos Lee, Spirit. I’d never been a huge fan of Amos Lee until this record. But I LOVE his sound on Spirit. Equal parts 70s soul throwback and contemporary R&B, Lee is fully in his element here. Download this: “Spirit”, “Running Out of Time”, and “With You.”
  6. Lee Dewyze, Oil and Water. Yes, that Lee Dewyze. Like most people, I lost track of Dewyze when his American Idol run came to an end, with the exception of that one song of his that was featured on The Walking Dead a few years ago. But I came across this release back in January, a time of year when there just aren’t very many good albums being released. It became an instant earworm for me, portending Dewyze’s potential as an alt-rock, singer-songwriter once more. Download this: “Stone”, “Oil and Water”, and “Same For You.”
  7. Augustines, This Is Your Life. I fell in love with Augustines a few years back when they released their self-titled sophomore album. Sadly, this release is the Brooklyn-based band’s swan song. While This Is Your Life lacks the overall grandeur of Augustines, it’s a great way to draw the curtain on the band’s short-lived run. I’m gonna miss these guys. Download this: “Hold Me Loneliness”, “Running in Place” and “Days Roll By.”
  8. Kings of Leon, WALLS. The Kings have never sounded finer. This is what “staying in your lane” sounds like. Kings of Leon know exactly who they are and they don’t mess with the formula. I didn’t expect to love this album as much as I do. Download this: “Muchacho” and “WALLS.”
  9. John Paul White, Beulah. If I were the President, my first executive order would be to reunite The Civil Wars. But until that happens, we can take solace in the fact that John Paul White will be putting out starkly beautiful music like this record. One NPR reviewer noted that White’s clear articulation made every Civil Wars record seem like a conversation. That same intimacy transfers to this solo record. Download this: “The Martyr.”
  10. Margo Price, Midwest Farmer’s Daughter. I first encountered Margo Price on the Nashville episode of Anthony Bourdain’s Parts Unknown. A quick search on Spotify led me to her debut album, an “authentic” country album in the vein of Loretta Lynn. It’s good to see Nashville returning to her roots. Download this: “Hands of Time.”

Honorable mention: Just missing the cut were new releases from Wilco, Bon Iver, The Head and the Heart, and the Lumineers.

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