My dog is looking at me, and I’m telling you, she is trying to tell me something.

She has that dopey look in her eyes as she stares into mine. Her bone is hanging out of her mouth. And she seems to be saying to me, “Friend, let’s play. Could you please take this bone and throw it so that we can have some fun? That’s my purpose in life.”

Ok, maybe I have an unhealthy connection with my dog.

But sometimes she sees so, well, human.

Although we might be tempted to elevate our animals to our status, psychologists and scientists have been working to lower humans down to the level of mammals for more than 100 years.

Something like a spiritual revival seems to be happening in our country, especially among young people. I’ve noticed this spiritual hunger for a few months now, and I believe recent events have sparked even more interest in spiritual conversations.

What makes this cultural moment unique is that it doesn’t seem to be a return to church necessarily, but a hunger for the Scriptures.

The unchurched want to read the Bible.

I don’t have any hard data, but let me tell you a few stories about what I’m seeing:

Todd was having a minor dental procedure, and the attending nurse just happened to check his blood pressure.

That’s odd, he thought, why are my numbers so high?

He didn’t think much of it at the time, but a few days later, he had some blood work done just in case.

The results came back, and he got the call while on the golf course. The reason his blood pressure was so high was that only one kidney was functioning. The other one had been eclipsed by cancer. After doing more tests, they found malignant cells popping up in his lungs, hip, and lymph nodes. This was stage four. The doctors gave him about six months to live.

It was at this moment that I truly became his pastor, and he became my friend.

Whether it was the medical intervention or just the sheer grace of God, Todd was able to manage his symptoms well enough to ski. He invited me to come with him to his place in Montana, and he taught me how to weave through the trees. And when the snow melted, we golfed.

We continued to meet every few weeks. Sometimes in my office. Sometimes at a coffee shop. We talked about the God of the Scriptures, the forgiveness of sins, and the life of the world to come. I watched as outwardly Todd was wasting away, but inwardly he was being renewed day by day. His faith shone through, like the light of a candle piercing out of a cracked pot.

Yet, even as his faith was budding, he voiced his most nagging question: Why am I still here?

“I can’t work. I can’t do the things I want to do. I know this cancer is killing me, so why doesn’t God just get on with it and take me now?”

I’m honored that Todd would let me into his internal dialogue. It’s a place where he lets very few people see.

But what is most hidden is also most universal.

Everybody hurts.

Something must be in the water, because lately a whole slew of young married couples have gotten pregnant at our church. I’ve warned them about joining one of our small group Bible studies: “Be careful. Everyone who joins this group winds up pregnant.”

Joking aside, I’m thankful to see so many young people welcoming the blessings of marriage and children. For the last few decades, it seemed like the young people I knew were all delaying marriage and the blessings of children. (At the same time, I know a number of couples who desperately want children, but they are suffering in silence, mourning their infertility or a series of miscarriages. May the good Lord have mercy and grant his peace to such couples. I’m praying for you in this moment.)

In 1938, Harvard funded a longitudinal research project on happiness. They followed 268 Harvard graduates and 456 disadvantaged youths who were raised in Boston's inner city. For 85 years, they studied their IQ, health, success, and life outcomes to discover the key to happiness.

And what did they find as the most critical factor in our well-being?

Relationships.

As Dr. Robert Waldinger summarized in his best-selling book The Good Life, “The clearest message we get from this 85-year study is this: Good relationships keep us happier and healthier. Period.”

Viktor Frankl, whom I’ve mentioned in previous posts, said something similar. Although he didn’t believe that happiness could be pursued directly, he did think we could find something better: lasting meaning. And what was the source of lasting meaning?

In 1905, two of the most influential thinkers of the 20th century were born:

·         Jean Paul Sartre (Paris)

·         Viktor Frankl (Vienna)

Though their origins were separated by geography, they had much in common.

·         Both were fascinated by human’s desire for meaning.

·         Both identified what made humans unique: We ask “why” questions: Why do we exist? Why do we suffer? Why do we die?

·         Both rejected determinism, an idea popularized by Freud and Marx that stated that humans are slaves to external and internal forces outside their control.

·         Both championed that humans have the responsibility and the freedom to make choices and overcome our circumstances.

Despite their similar perspective, they had one major difference: their belief system.

Sartre was an atheist

Frankl left room for the Divine.

Every generation presents new challenges to the Christian faith. As Christians, we are called to respond to the questions people are truly asking.

For example, during WWII, the Western world was trying to make sense of the mass violence, cruelty, and death. The bodies scattered on Normandy’s beaches and the horrors of the Holocaust forced people to ask deep moral questions.

Why is there so much evil in the world?

If God is good, why does He allow so much suffering?

In response to those concerns, C.S. Lewis, the former atheist and professor from Oxford, delivered a series of radio addresses that made a moral argument for God.  Those talks became his classic work, Mere Christianity.

That book has stood the test of time and has blessed generations after its first publication. Yet, the generation that followed Lewis began to ask different questions.

If you and I have a conversation, I will probably bring up Viktor Frankl sooner or later. I can’t help it. Thinkers like Frankl have transformed how I look at human psychology and influenced how I present Biblical theology.

In fact, one of my co-workers joked that a recipe for my sermons goes something like this:

·         Two parts Scripture

·         One part C.S. Lewis

·         One part Viktor Frankl

Well, he’s probably right about that.

Luke, the author of Luke and Acts, described a conversation between the Apostle Paul and 12 followers of Jesus in the city of Ephesus.

Paul asked them, “Did you receive the Holy Spirit when you believed?”

They replied, “We didn’t even know there was a Holy Spirit.” (Acts 19:17)

About a year ago, I had the same conversation with a lifelong believer in our church. I was teaching a few men about the Holy Spirit. Then afterward, one man approached me privately and said, “I didn’t even know there was a Holy Spirit.”

Just last night, it happened again. A very strong Christian heard I was preaching on the Holy Spirit and said, “I don’t know much about the Holy Spirit. I know God the Father is my true father and creator. I know Jesus is God, the Son, my Savior. But I really don’t know what to do with the Holy Spirit.”

I know exactly how they feel. As Lutherans, we almost avoid the Holy Spirit.

Lutherans are known for emphasizing Jesus Christ.

Every worship service, Bible study, and children’s Sunday school stresses the death and resurrection of Jesus (as it should!).

But why are we so afraid of the Holy Spirit?

According to the American Film Institute (AFI), It’s a Wonderful Life is one of the greatest movies ever.

That’s high praise, especially for a movie that initially flopped at the box office when it came out in 1946.

For decades, this classic was dismissed and forgotten. Until the 1970s, it lost its copyright protection because of a clerical error. This led several TV companies to broadcast it broadly for cheap. And like all good art, it eventually received the recognition it deserved.

I've developed a new hobby, or perhaps it's more of an obsession: researching near-death experiences (NDEs). It all started when I listened to a podcast featuring an author, John Burke, who wrote a book called Imagine Heaven. Burke interviewed and researched over 1000 cases of NDEs. What he found is that they all tell a similar story, even if their interpretations vary. These stories are not limited to people in the US, but come from individuals from every nation, tribe, language, and culture. And most importantly, their accounts match up with what we already know from the Scriptures.

My labrador retriever, Scout, is not subtle. When she’s hungry, you’ll hear her groan by her doggy bowl, or she’ll paw at your leg until you listen. With a slice of raw beef in hand, I can get her to sit, spin, lie down, or roll over — whatever it takes for one little bite.

Scout is motivated by pleasure.

In many ways, humans are no different. Flash an ad that tempts the stomach or the sex drive, and you might win an easy customer.