Jen Hatmaker's show + new book (guest post)
I have an editor. Did you know that? Her name is Meredith and she's smart and talented and really, really insightful. She's crazy fun and has become one of my closest friends (even though she lives in San Diego). And she's doing great things for my book.
Meredith had the extreme privilege to be one of 250 bloggers chosen to review Jen Hatmaker's new book, and has been gracious enough to let me steal her content for the day and share it with you...
So, in celebration of all things Jen Hatmaker (her new show, My Big Family Renovation debuted last week and her new book, Interrupted is now available for purchase), I give to you Meredith and her takeaways of this incredible new book.
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Interrupted. Well, shoot, Jen Hatmaker. Now you’ve done it. Gone and wriggled inside my head and my heart, plucking out the derelict collection of questions that have been wandering around, bumping into each other, and handing them a warm meal of simple, profound, and life-giving answers.
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Fortunately, God has been systematically tearing apart the structure of my old life for years now, pulling down the pretty but structurally unstable roof and walls, tossing out the functional but uninspiring furniture, and generally making a mess of everything. The wrecking had begun, so I wasn’t too put off by the book’s tagline: When Jesus Wrecks Your Comfortable Christianity.
You don’t scare me, Jen Hatmaker.
I live amid wreckage.
I may have underestimated how much demolition was still required. Shoot.
As you may recall, I was one of the 250 bloggers chosen to be part of spreading the word about the revised and expanded version of Jen’s book, Interrupted. The good people at Tyndale House Publishers sent me a copy {a free book is like a kiss from an angel}, and once I cracked it open, I could not put it down.
Right from the beginning – as in, the introduction, people – mama’s dishing out meat and potatoes. Like stick-to-your-bones goodness.
Whew!
Girlfriend is talking straight to me. As a matter of fact, yes I am plagued with tension and discontent that there must be more, Jen. I had pretty much suspected he was calling me forward...maybe sorta kinda hoped it wouldn’t require too much sacrifice, but I hear you. And you’re telling me it’s not a weekend makeover.
Wow. OK. Yes, and thanks for the kick in the booty.
But let me back up for a moment. Lest you think Jen is sitting on her spiritual high horse as pastor’s wife/author/blogger/funny gal extraordinaire, let me fill you in on a bit of her story (which she shares through the course of the book).
Yes, she actually was a pastor’s daughter, and then became a pastor’s wife and Christian author, churning out witty, helpful devotionals like a sharp-witted one-woman factory.
And then.
Then Jesus said, “Well that was fun! Now let’s get down to the real work. All the great things you think you’re doing to serve me? Not so much. Do you really love me? Tend to my sheep.”
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To which Jen replied: “I don’t know if You’ve noticed, Jesus, but I write Christian books You told me to write! I travel and feed sheep all over the nation! What the heck is this?”
And that, my friends, is what we call a game-changer. As Jen researched the stats about the homeless and hungry in her hometown of Austin, Texas, she discovered that Jesus was dead-on with his numbers and that clearly he was asking—telling—her she needed to do something about it.
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In the following months, Jen and her husband Brandon left the church in which they had served well for years and ventured into the wild world of complete trust and abandon into God’s calling. They also gave themselves a crash course on Austin’s social issues. Suddenly, the scope of the work ahead of them was not just daunting, but completely overwhelming. Still, when God calls you to something, it’s best to follow through.
Through a supernatural turn of events, Jen and her husband planted Austin New Church and set out to change the face of the Christian church. One that more closely identified with Jesus. Like how he actually lived his life during his brief stay on Earth. You know, having dinner with prostitutes and tax collectors (socially on the same level in Biblical times, apparently), feeding the hungry, loving the unlovable, being polite to telemarketers. That kind of thing.
And then presenting a new vision for Christians that actually reflects their Christ: “It’s hard to hate a rich country that is feeding you, advocating for your orphans, building schools in your villages, championing your human rights, and empowering your leaders. It’s difficult to dismiss the idea of a redeeming Christ when His followers are pouring their lives out. It’s tough to hate the Christian church when her members refuse to sit idly on their piles of luxuries while the rest of the world suffers.”
Truth bombs left and right.
There’s no getting around it. If you want to identify with Jesus, you have to get your hands dirty. But when you’re dealing with “the least of these” in our country, a complete reorientation of mindset is in order. People can sniff out inauthenticity a mile away. No one wants to be condescended to. The heart of a real servant doesn’t see the person you are serving as beneath you, but above you. A servant serves a master, not one inferior.
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That turns modern philanthropy on its head, doesn’t it?
Dang, girl. Not letting up for a blessed minute, are you? And she doesn’t. And I’m glad.
What she does do is offer a new way to be the church. The way Jesus showed her and her family, that is revolutionizing their city. That’s revolutionizing the ways in which people who previously had no time for Jesus or his professing followers stop and really look at them. Curious. Interested. Maybe there’s something to this Christ after all.
“Mercy to the hungry, poor, homeless, and orphaned has the threefold advantage of administering relief to the most distressed, identifying with Jesus on the deepest level, and drawing the skeptic through an action he is already compelled by.”
Then the call to action gets more personal.
“We can continue to invite unbelievers to church, but we must first invite them into our lives. Have them over, go to dinner, welcome them in. Create a safe place for them to belong without agenda... We must become their advocates, embracing them as dear friends so they might one day feel comfortable belonging with us. This is not a strategy for rapid church growth, but the patient hard work of love is the way of Christ. It is the subversive path into the kingdom.”
This, of course, makes perfect sense. As Jen says:
Where I was wrestled with the bad name the American church has made for itself and what to do about it, Interrupted provided answers. Shockingly simple and obvious answers.
It’s a simple call, but not always an easy one. But at this point, I’m pretty sure there’s no other way I’d rather live.
What are your thoughts? Do you feel the same?
I sure can't wait to read this book.
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