by David Docusen | October 23, 2013 | Uncategorized
Two words always made me want to punch my best friend, Ryan Jordan, when we were teenagers. We’d be hanging out and I’d say something really funny, execute the perfect one liner or any other adolescent quip. He’d look at me, straight-faced and say, “Grow up.” Anger boiled.
Imagine my level of discomfort as I was reading the Scriptures the other day and Jesus told me the same thing through his teaching in Matthew 5.
**Matthew 5:48 (New Living Translation) – But you are to be perfect, even as your Father in heaven is perfect.
I was preparing a message on the Sermon on the Mount (teachings from Jesus in Matthew 5-7) for a Sunday morning at Center City Church when I came across this passage. I read it and re-read it and started to get incredibly uncomfortable.
“How am I supposed to get in front of the church and teach them that they have to be perfect?” I knew this was a command I could guarantee that no person could ever achieve.
I studied, prayed, dug into writings from others, looked at other sermons and nothing really clicked with me until I pulled out “The Message” (a paraphrased translation of the Bible by Eugene Peterson).
**Matthew 5:48 (The Message) – “In a word, what I’m saying is, Grow up. You’re kingdom subjects. Now live like it. Live out your God-created identity. Live generously and graciously toward others, the way God lives toward you.”
Grow up. Those two words just have a way of smacking you in the mouth and getting your attention. And then it clicked. God is asking me to perfect like he is perfect. My entire pursuit of Jesus is aimed toward being like him. But I always fall short. He’s perfect. I’m not.
However difficult that may seem, that’s my aim and the aim of all that follow Jesus. The aim is not to almost be like Jesus. It’s to be exactly like him. This is something I can shoot for on a daily basis. It’s a process. Learning from my mistakes. I will never achieve it on this side of Heaven, but that goal will continue to help me grow more and more like him.
When I’m selfish. Grow up, David, it’s not all about you.
When I lack faith. Grow up, David, and learn to trust.
When I fear about money/finances. Grow up, David, God provides.
When I lose my temper. Grow up, David, and lean on God when you’re wronged.
When I lack wisdom. Grow up, David, all you have to do is ask.
This verse moved from incredibly frustrating and irrational to incredibly motivating and practical. I’m on a journey toward Christlikeness. So is every person that has placed their faith in Christ. And even though these two words made me want to punch Ryan, in this context they make me want to be more like Jesus.
Grow up. I guess Ryan was right all along.
by David Docusen | October 23, 2013 | Uncategorized
Life is confusing. And my pursuit of God is equally confusing, at times. Ever felt that way? If you’re answer is no, I’d recommend seeing a lying counselor. Not sure those actually exist, so maybe just be honest with yourself. We don’t get God all the time.
As a follower of Christ, I turn to my faith to give answers for big decisions, to give peace in a painful times or satisfaction during seasons of unrest. But there have been so many times that answers don’t come. Prolonged seasons of uncertainty ensue. And I’m left with a decision to either give up and try to fix everything on my own or continue to dig deep into my relationship with Jesus.
Digging deep into my relationship with Jesus means digging into the Word. As I was reading recently, I felt like an enormous spotlight was shined upon my seasons of confusion (and the seeming silence from God during those times).
Colossians 3:3 – Since you have been raised to new life with Christ, set your sights on the realities of heaven, where Christ sits in the place of honor at God’s right hand. Think about the things of heaven, not the things of earth. For you died to this life and your real life is hidden with Christ in God.
Your real life is hidden with Christ in God. Those nine words kept rolling around in my head. And then an exercise of my beliefs followed:
I believe that God knows everything.
I believe that God sees everything.
I believe that God is intimately aware of my life & circumstances.
I believe he cares deeply about me and longs to direct me faithfully.
So, if all of these things are true, it means I have to digest this passage of Scripture and embrace it’s reality. Sometimes God intentionally holds back answers from us. It’s not that he’s confused or doesn’t know where to go. It’s not that the biggest issues of my life have stumped him. He just longs for me to come to him. God knows the answers, and he’s hidden my “real life” with Christ. When I pursue my relationship with Jesus, the answers to my life are sure to follow.
Turns out that sometimes God hides the answers so that I will continue to dig into my relationship with Jesus. How incredibly liberating. He cares much more about our relationship (which fully satisfies and gives wisdom, guidance and perspective) than he does about giving easy answers to tough questions.
Why would God hide the answers if he knows everything? Turns out he wants relationship with us more than he wants us to understand everything. If you’re walking through a season that God seems silent, maybe he wants you to lean in and listen.
Real life is hidden with Christ in God. Amazing.
by David Docusen | October 20, 2013 | Uncategorized
I’ve got my dad’s DNA. Literally. Not only do I share his DNA, I share his name. David Daniel Docusen, Sr. is one of the most creative, skilled leaders I’ve ever known. His energy & enthusiasm for life is infectious. The picture above is my dad and I in Hawaii when I was three years old. Please appreciate our incredible style circa 1982.
Growing up in the Docusen home meant always having a next project. I watched my dad study the market in the communities in which we lived. He’d fill a void by starting a business in an underserved market. By day, he was a leader within the Delta Airlines organization. By night and weekend, he was a serial entrepreneur. His knack for anticipating what the market would respond well to was something that has stuck with me into my adult years.
My dad always told me that I’d make a great businessman. When I felt God’s call to ministry, I could never shake what seemed like a natural fit. I distinctly remember working as a hired hand at a small business convention in Orlando when I was in my early twenties. I watched thousands of entrepreneurs wandering the convention halls and kept thinking to myself, “I know I’m in ministry, but I would have loved to start a business.” I had convinced myself that the call to ministry was a call away from entrepreneurialism. Gladly, I couldn’t have been more wrong.
Dara and I were sitting in the lobby of our church in Orlando, FL in 2005 when God merged our call to ministry and our entrepreneurial spirit. We didn’t know what it was called or where it would be, but this was the day that we decided that if we ever built a church building, we’d create a business that filled a void in our community. The dream of Ebenezers Coffeehouse was birthed in our hearts that day.
I want Ebenezers to be loved and enjoyed by our community in Uptown Charlotte as it is in Washington DC (pictured above). It’s for our city, after all. The better we run our business, the more money goes back into our community. The more we serve great coffee, offer great events and create a comfortable environment, the more people will want to make Ebenezers a part of their normal routine. The more people make Ebenezers a part of their normal routine, relationships will be built. And the more relationships are built, the more people will see the genuine love of Jesus on full display in our every day lives. This is the crossroads of entrepreneurialism and ministry. And this is an incredible passion of my life.
God changed my life through my relationship with Jesus. I want to share that with people for the rest of my days. God also gave me a dad that taught me to embrace my entrepreneurial spirit. Turns out these two roads don’t run parallel. They intersect at 420 West 5th Street in Uptown Charlotte, NC – the future home of Ebenezers Coffeehouse.
by David Docusen | October 19, 2013 | Uncategorized
In one of my favorite moments in all of Scripture, there is a man was desperate to get the attention of Jesus. For years this man had been stricken with blindness. His life was relegated to begging for change to survive. I’m sure he longed to see the beauty of life in all of it’s splendor. It could be assumed that he wanted to see the expressions of joy and sadness that had only been recognizable by sounds in his current reality.
Hope filled his heart when he heard about the Miracle Worker. Jesus was traveling from one city to another, so the blind beggar positioned himself alongside the road with many others that wanted to get a glimpse for themselves. As the crowd began to swell, the blind beggar cemented himself into his spot. This was his chance.
He could hear the commotion begin to escalate as Jesus approached his location. He began to call out for Jesus. “Jesus, son of David! Jesus, son of David! Have mercy on me.” The crowd was crushing in on him and he realized that his voice was getting drowned out by the crowd. His response?
He shouted louder.
This passage of Scripture is incredibly meaningful to me. Maybe it’s because there are times that I can – in my immaturity – move toward wondering if God even hears my prayers. As the all knowing, ever present God, he’s constantly aware. I know this. But that can be hard to remember when I’m disappointed, hurting or confused.
I love this passage of Scripture because it’s full of passion, resolve and determination. The blind beggar knew that Jesus was the only one that could turn his situation and grant him the miracle he needed. So he did what all of us should do:
He shouted louder. He pressed in harder. He placed is focus solely on Jesus.
When I am disappointed, hurting or confused, I like to think of the blind beggar that screamed at the top of his lungs for Jesus. I am aware that not only does Jesus hear every whisper of my life, he knows my thoughts and cares deeply. Shouting louder isn’t for Jesus, it’s for me.
Think Jesus can’t hear you? Shout louder. Press in harder. Place your focus solely on Jesus. Your miracle may be found on the other side of your passion, resolve and determination.
————————————————-
Luke 18:35-43
————————————————-
As Jesus approached Jericho, a blind beggar was sitting beside the road. When he heard the noise of a crowd going past, he asked what was happening. They told him that Jesus the Nazarene was going by. So he began shouting, “Jesus, Son of David, have mercy on me!”
“Be quiet!” the people in front yelled at him. But he only shouted louder, “Son of David, have mercy on me!”
When Jesus heard him, he stopped and ordered that the man be brought to him. As the man came near, Jesus asked him, “What do you want me to do for you?”
“Lord,” he said, “I want to see!”
And Jesus said, “All right, receive your sight! Your faith has healed you.” Instantly the man could see, and he followed Jesus, praising God. And all who saw it praised God, too.
by David Docusen | October 16, 2013 | Uncategorized
Joseph Phillips has proven to be one of the best young leaders that I’ve ever had the privilege of working with in my time in ministry. As a pastor on our staff, he disciples leaders, helps shape our culture and has an incredible heart for Jesus. I asked him to write about his upbringing in ministry and what it was like to grow up as a kid in a pastor’s home. Enjoy. You can continue the conversation with him on Twitter – @josephhamilton – or via email – [email protected].
———————————————————————
I detest waking up early. I have never been an early riser. I have hated it since childhood. When I was around 9-years-old my dad informed me that I would have to ride with him to the church at 6am every day for a week for prayer meetings. I wasn’t excited. I have always been a little resourceful (sneaky) though, so when I learned of this torture I was to endure, I stuffed my pillow into my backpack and headed to the church.
My dad (Joe Phillips), at this time, was serving as the youth pastor of a large church in Concord, NC. The sanctuary was sprawling and I found that my ideal hiding place was in the wings of the sanctuary, where the stadium style seating provided the perfect sleeping conditions. There is a very niche crowd that shows up to these types of meetings in southern pentecostal churches–the weird crowd. The flag wavers and the “intercessory prayer warriors”, the tambourine rattlers and the tone deaf singers all converge on 6am prayer meetings. All of those characters prohibited sleep that morning. But strangely, as I look back on times like this, I remember an overwhelming sense of peace present there. Sure, I remember the odd-balls–some of which taught me more about God than any seminary course I took. But I also recall the distinct sense of the presence of God.
On mornings like that one, 80 or 100 souls would cry out to God together. As I attempted to sleep under the pew that Monday morning, I remember feeling like I never wanted to be anywhere else. That is a pretty accurate picture of what it’s like to grow up “in the ministry.” It was intensely weird and strangely beautiful. I saw the best and worst in people. I saw acts of love and beauty that would be impossible to put into words and I saw hate and vitriol that would make your stomach turn.
I feel like a predictable anomaly. I am a pastor’s kid who ended up being a pastor. Predictable because, isn’t that what all pastor’s kids end up doing? An anomaly because, after someone has been through everything ministry has to throw at them, why would anyone sign up for that?
One major reason I didn’t run from what I feel God has called me to is my dad. On the whole, he didn’t shield my eyes from the dark side of ministry. He didn’t try to convince me that it was all beautiful and sentimental. He let me look fully at the rough edges of dealing with people. He didn’t hide the reality of ministry from me but he did protect me from becoming bitter. He didn’t respond in anger to injustices. He prayed for folks who persecuted him. He turned the other cheek when I didn’t want him to. He showed me how to keep a pure heart when the circumstances could easily turn a heart to stone. He modeled what it means to be a pastor for me.
I’ve seen my dad preach to 10,000 people at one time in Brazil (the same trip he preached on a South American TV station to millions across the continent). I’ve seen him pray for the sick and see dramatic healings. I’ve seen countless people come to know Jesus through his ministry. But those aren’t the things that stick out as extraordinary to me. I’m struck time and again by the fact that he still tears up talking about what Jesus has done in his life. I am awed when people from churches we were at 15 years ago call my dad during crisis moments in their lives.
My dad taught me how to be a pastor.
by David Docusen | September 9, 2013 | Uncategorized
Dara and I celebrated eleven years of marriage this weekend. Of all the blessings of my life – which there are many – my marriage is the one that I hold in the highest regard.
Dara is my best friend. My greatest strength on this side of heaven. She listens when I need to vent and speaks when I need to listen.
We lead together. Our leadership is expressed uniquely, yet unified. She’s a quiet, behind the scenes type. I’m an out front, social type. We work together well and share the responsibility and privilege of shepherding this community together.
Our marriage is build upon the unbreakable bedrock of our faith in Christ. The miracle of grace and salvation found in Jesus is our foundation. We move into parenting, ministry, friendships and joy because of Jesus and the work he has done in us.
We are far from perfect, but perfectly satisfied with each other. I love my bride and I am so honored to celebrate our eleventh year of marriage. This will be one very, very memorable year together. There’s no one else I’d rather share the journey with than my lovely lady, Dara Christina Docusen.
