The Painted Door

Corporate Prayer: Lord of Bounty
Mon, Jan 2nd

Each week, the people of The Painted Door gather around the table of Jesus to hear Gospel proclamation, join in Gospel song and foster Gospel community. As part of that gathering, we engage in reading together a confession of our sin and God's grace.

You empty the sea to rescue your people
and here we complain of how thirsty we are.
You bring water from stone with the crack of a staff
but we're starving and we need some food right away.
You rain down the angels' own bread for our hunger
but the meat back in Egypt seemed better somehow.

The rich and hardy feast you set for us is far to much for our weak palettes.
Forgive us our appetites, Lord. We crave bitter and bland, even garbage and poison.

Like solitude, leisure, self-pity, esteem, one more laugh,
one more game, flirting eyes, peace at home.
Lingering glances, self-doubt, being right, capacity, safety, control, independence.

But your table is Life and Laboring Love, your breed is your very own self.
Served in excruciating Joy, you spared no expense.

Grow our stomachs, Lord, for supper is at hand, and we shall feast for a very long time indeed.

Puddles of Grace
Tue, Sep 13th

The 10-year anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks reminded us of the hate, death, and carnage that characterize our world. But it also provided signs of hope. At The Painted Door, our hope is new creation. Our hope is that because God himself entered history and was de-created for us on a cross, the whole world can now be re-created and restored to perfect peace.

We believe that re-creation has already begun, that it is breaking into our decaying world like light into a dark room. We see this light in the faces of forgiven people, lives transformed by the gospel of grace. The scriptures teach us that all those in Christ are new creations. That is, they have died to the old ways of selfishness that produce evil in the world and been reborn to a radical, joy-giving love of others.

The picture of this new birth is baptism, going down under the water and being washed of selfishness, washed of malice, washed of violence, washed of bitterness—and then being raised to new life in Christ. We had the privilege of baptizing 13 people on Sept. 11, including my sweet little 6-year-old, Fiona. It was a day of puddles, water splashing over smiling faces, tears of hope flowing freely from a crowd of witnesses, and those streams collecting together to cover the space in puddles of grace.

The Painted Door Reading List
Fri, Aug 5th

The internet is a friend of information. Books are friends of thought. At The Painted Door, we use the internet, but we love books. Listed below are a few that we hope many more people will come to love. While we certainly do not endorse every thought offered in these titles, we strongly encourage everyone in the church to read them and engage one another with the ideas presented.

Also read novels (the classics mainly). Or else you’ll be boring. Enjoy!

The Story of God
King’s Cross by Timothy Keller
According to Plan by Graeme Goldsworthy
God’s Big Picture by Vaughan Roberts
Desiring God by John Piper

The Christian Life
The Pursuit of God by A.W. Tozer
The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis
The Bookends of the Christian Life by Jerry Bridges and Bob Bevington
Death by Love by Mark Driscoll
The Prodigal God by Timothy Keller

Church and Community
Total Church by Steve Timmis and Tim Chester
The Trellis and the Vine by Colin Marshall and Tony Payne
A Meal with Jesus by Tim Chester

Marriage and Family
This Momentary Marriage by John Piper
Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas
Shepherding a Child’s Heart by Tedd Tripp
Instructing a Child’s Heart by Tedd Tripp
The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones

Redeeming Culture
To Change the World by James Davison Hunter
Culture Making by Andy Crouch
Generous Justice by Timothy Keller
Surprised by Hope by N.T. Wright

Beauty and the Arts
For the Beauty of the Church by various authors
Unceasing Worship by Harold Best

It’s a Small World, But it Doesn’t Have to Be
Tue, Jul 26th

While watching my daughter’s tumbling class about a year ago, I got into a conversation with another student’s grandmother. She told me that her husband had dropped her off and she would take the train home. In fact, she always had her husband drop her off or took the train because she refused to drive anymore. The stress of driving finally wore her down. Now she relied on her husband to get her to the grocery store, the post office… everywhere. And if he weren’t available, she just had to wait. I can’t imagine my life without being able to drive. But whenever I get on to the onramp of the Kennedy expressway heading into the belly of the Chicago beast, I can appreciate her fears. I was on that stretch again the other day and had the thought, I am never going to drive here again. That must have been similar to the first thoughts that grandmother had as she started towards the decision of ultimately giving up driving altogether.

At times in my life, I have struggled with social anxiety to the point of not wanting to go anywhere and feeling completely powerless. In those seasons, I gave into each fear slowly as it came and avoided situations on each level until there were no levels left. And I still felt afraid. Fear does that. Avoidance only feeds and makes it stronger. My shrinking world became very small, just as that grandmother’s world did.

The thing about fear is that it is completely self-absorbed. When I am living in my fear, I cannot see anyone else around me. I can’t see how people might be hurting or what ways I can be serving them or how my actions (or lack of actions) may be affecting them. The self absorption shows itself in these ways, but it is also the root of the problem. It is a deep commitment to me and my feelings that tosses aside God’s truth. God says that I am no longer in slavery to fear because He adopted me out of that slavery (Rom. 8:15). Why do I willingly act like I’m still in slavery? God says that His grace is sufficient for me, and His power is made perfect in my weakness (2 Corinthians 12:9). I am not believing His grace is sufficient when I am stuck in fear. God says He did not give me a spirit of fear but of power, love and self-control (2 Tim. 1:7). Every time I give into my fear, I call God a liar.

My tendency is to become a victim when I am afraid. It’s as though something is happening to me and is out of my control. Of course I don’t choose to be afraid… I just can’t help myself. But who is at the center when I am a victim? I am! I’m putting myself in the place where God belongs. Seeing this sin is essential to confession and repenting of my self-centeredness. When God is at the center, there is no room for fear. I don’t have to think of how I can avoid it or overpower it. In fact, I don’t have to think about me at all.

Corporate Prayer: Grace In, Grace Out
Sun, Jul 24th

Each week, the people of The Painted Door gather around the table of Jesus to hear Gospel proclamation, join in Gospel song and foster Gospel community. As part of that gathering, we engage in reading together a confession of our sin and God's grace.

God our Savior, we ourselves were once foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, hated by others and hating one another. But when your goodness and loving kindness appeared, You saved us!

You saved us from having to pretend that sin is no big deal.
We are free from merely tolerating people.
You saved us from bearing grudges and holding sin over people’s heads.
We are free to forgive and love.

God our Savior, save us to submission.
Save us to obedience. Save us to every good work.
Save us from speaking evil of anyone.
Save us from quarreling. Save us to gentleness.
Save us to perfect courtesy toward all people.
Save us to love, because you first loved us.

Corporate Prayer: The Grace of God - Future
Sun, Jul 17th

Each week, the people of The Painted Door gather around the table of Jesus to hear Gospel proclamation, join in Gospel song and foster Gospel community. As part of that gathering, we engage in reading together a confession of our sin and God's grace.

Lord Jesus, you appeared once in humility
You were a lowly peasant, the suffering servant
You were a man of sorrows, familiar with grief
You were a lamb for the slaughter, our eternal sacrifice

In you, the grace of God has appeared
Bringing salvation for all people
Training us to renounce ungodliness and worldly passions
And to live self-controlled, upright, and godly lives in the present age

But you have promised to appear again
Not in humility, but in glory
Not with sorrow, but with joy
Not to die, but to judge

We expectantly await the arrival of our blessed hope
We long for the day when injustice ceases
We look forward to the display of your glory
Surely you are coming soon. Amen.
Come, Lord Jesus!

Your Beauty is Showing
Thu, Jul 14th

On date night a couple weeks ago, my wife and I checked out a show at Schubas, one of Chicago’s most intimate and beloved concert venues. Good drink. Good crowd. Great music. But between songs, one of the opening acts questioned the very basis for what any of us were even doing there. Allie Moss told a story of a jog she once took on a coastal boardwalk and how she’d forgotten her ear buds and had to provide her own sound track. She began to sing, quietly at first and then louder and louder until the curious looks of strangers morphed into the kind of averted eyes and quiet whispers typically reserved for the muttering insane.

Nevertheless, she couldn’t stop herself. The lure of playing her vocal instrument was too strong. And it got her thinking: Why do we sing? What compels people to open mouths and flowing notes? In search of an answer, she wrote a song, aptly titled “Why Sing?” The opening verse goes like this…

I like the way these words feel
As they roll off my tongue
Cotton candy to the ear
Confectionery in song

Her lyrical answer flows through soft choruses and goes on to say…

‘Cause it sparks something new
And it helps me to heal
‘Cause I need to be moved
I like the way these words feel

As they rise to the roof
As they fill up the room
Lift your hearts from the ground
I like the way these words sound

Wonderful. But the best answer Allie offered to her question didn’t come from her lyrics; it came from her singing. Watch her sing here, and you will know why we sing—or at least why she sings. Beauty.

The rest of the show trumpeted that same answer. The night’s headliner Ivan and Alyosha moved the crowd from dance to wonder, from reflection to boot-stomping. Their lyrics probed deep waters of human longing and divine glory. And their music? It sings for itself. Go and see.

Why do we sing? Because beauty is real. And it is everywhere. Color. Waterfalls. Children. Mangos.  Love. Forests. Bridges. Thunderstorms. Dance. In the face of such extravagance, common speech simply will not do. How cruel would it have been for our Creator to lavish this world with such musical glory yet stop our mouths from joining the chorus? But thanks be to God, He loosed our tongues. He freed our hearts to lift from the ground. He made us to like the way these words sound.

Go Pick Someone Else’s Nose For Once…
Wed, Jul 6th

Certainly, we’ve all crossed paths with the adage,

Paul also used this familial metaphor in his letter to the Ephesians.  “Be imitators of God, as beloved children.  And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us...”.  God has adopted us as sons and daughters through Jesus; like it or not as believers in Christ—we are brothers and sisters.  Excitement?  Demoralization??  Both???

God tells us to imitate him.  He entered into human history in Jesus.  He walked among us as a friend.  He ate food.  He wore clothes.  He knew sleepless nights.  He was rejected by friends.  He laid down his life willingly.  But through it all he devoted himself to others, because he trusted his Father in heaven. The entire picture of Jesus’ life is one of movement—outward movement toward others. The love with which Christ loved us was entirely other-centric.  It’s through this love that we have been pursued by God, and it’s in this love that we are called to walk—“as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us.”

Crucify Him by Ivan Glazunov

Here’s the takeaway:  

Just as you didn’t choose your family, you also don’t choose who to move toward or away from.  As a local church, we’re family.  And implicit in this is an others-focus that propels us toward them.  This isn’t a burden; rather it’s the place of our joy.  Jesus endured the cross because there was joy in it!  He said he came to give life and life that is full—meaning, we don’t already have it!  He’s onto something here with the way he loved us, and the way he gives us to love each other.

In practice: 

Are you a part of a Gospel Community?  No, I’m not talking about showing up to some activity or group once a week.  Are you moving toward your family—the family of God?  Do you know the difficult issues in the lives of your brothers and sisters? 

Do you care?
Do you let them know yours?
Do you celebrate their birthday with genuine delight?
Do you carry their pain in your prayers?
Do you think about them while you’re making dinner?
Do you call them on the phone?
Do you call them on the phone while you’re making dinner?
Do you ask them to join you when you’re talking to them on the phone while making dinner?             

Do you enter into their world so entirely that it becomes yours?  Jesus did, and he’s given you and me this same opportunity.                

Can I pick your nose now?

Prayer of Confessions: The Grace of God - Past
Sun, Jul 3rd

Each week, the people of The Painted Door gather around the table of Jesus to hear Gospel proclamation, join in Gospel song and foster Gospel community. As part of that gathering, we engage in reading together a confession of our sin and God's grace.

Lord God, creator and sustainer
Abounding in grace and peace
You have not left us in our sin
But have given your Son as ransom for many

When we were lost, you called us found
When we were sinners, you called us righteous
When we were rebels, you called us friends
When we were orphans, you called us children

So now we thank you, our rescuer
We sing to you, our redeemer
We love you, our reconciler
We trust you, our Father

We Need Each Other
Thu, Jun 30th

Chicago is a segregated mess. Even in neighborhoods where multiple ethnic populations live in proximity, they ignore one another almost entirely. This fractured reality is part of the curse of sin. And it undermines humanity’s purpose to bear the image of God. God is diversity united, three distinct persons communing in perfect oneness. Our city’s disunity portrays a distorted picture of the divine. Only when together will we rightly reflect our Triune Creator.

So what might it look like to mend this torn social fabric? City leaders have experimented with mixed income housing, school admission quotas, and multicultural celebrations. But the best of these initiatives have only ever manufactured tolerance. And merely tolerating one another is not enough. God the Father does not tolerate his Son; He loves Him.

At The Painted Door, we believe that the Gospel is the only means for true reconciliation between peoples—for moving beyond tolerance to love. The Gospel is a story about grace. It is a story that places all of humanity in a position of desperate need. And it does not play favorites. In the Gospel, the power brokers and the utterly broke have much in common. When people are swept up in this story, those commonalities trump differences and diversity unites.

We are eager to witness such power in our community. In fact, our mission of becoming a vibrant expression of God depends on it. And so we are initiating relationships with people of various ethnic, socioeconomic, and cultural backgrounds. We’ve begun a monthly prayer gathering with Legacy Fellowship. We are partnering with Reach1Teach1 to host after-school programs for neighborhood kids. And we are in conversations with a local Hispanic pastor on how we might better practice hospitality for the many Spanish speaking people in our immediate vicinity.

We don’t expect this to be easy. We expect frequent discomfort, misunderstandings, and even offense. But we also expect the Gospel to prevail. I invite you to expect with us.