A Time to Reflect . . .

Brennan Manning poses a very interesting challenge. Let's listen in:

"To ascertain where you really are with the Lord, recall what saddened you the past month. Was is it the realization that you do not love Jesus enough? That you did not seek his face in prayer often enough? That you did not care for his people enough? Or did you get depressed over a lack of respect, criticism from an authority figure, your finances, a lack of friends, fears about the future, or your bulging waistline? Conversely, what gladdened you the past month? Reflection on your election to the Christian community? The joy of saying slowly, 'Abba, Father?' The afternoon you stole away for two hours with on the gospel as you companion? A small victory over selfishness? Or were the sources of your joy a new car, a Brooks Brothers suit, a great date, great sex, a raise, or a loss of four inches from your waistline." (The Importance of Being Foolish, 2005)

Convicting, isn't it? Advent is a time for reflection. We're called to think about our lives in light of Christ's love and truth. Brennan Manning suggests, with this quote, that we need to audit our lives and ponder upon the question, what makes us happy? Learning to love more faithfully? Spending time with the hurting? Helping those in need? Or, getting our way? Another pair of shoes? Another app for the iphone? What do we celebrate?

As I've often said before, conversion is a transformation of our desires. With God's faithful guidance and empowerment, our desires are redirected toward a noble end--the glorification of God and the enjoyment of His goodness through creation and community. Something to think about.

Peace.

Love and Knowledge

When thinking about the day of the Lord, Paul has one simple desire: He wants his churches to be holy in love (1 Thessalonians 3, Philippians 1). In last Sunday's text (Phil. 1), Paul prays for the church's love to increase in knowledge and insight, making them discerning and equipped to be holy and blameless on the day of Christ's return.

Paul continues this thought throughout his letter. In chapter 2.1-3, he calls them to be of the same mind, having experienced the goodness of God. Then he holds up Christ's sacrifice as an example and calls the church to have the same mind (2.5). He also calls those who are mature to be of the same mind (3.15). And when addressing two women leaders who can't get along, Paul urges them to have the same mind in the Lord (4.2).

All of this suggests that our love needs to be sharpened by a renewed understanding of what it means to love and live together in fellowship. I believe this poses a challenge for us because our understanding of love is rather anemic. We love just about everything in our culture, mostly that which makes us feel good. I love ice-cream, we scream. I love to run. I love chocolate. I love American idol. Don't you just love that leather coach. I love my new house. On and on the list could go.

Unfortunately, this feeling-based love has little to do with Christian love. Christian love is sacrificial. It is a love that seeks the well-being of others, a love that considers others first. Christian love is not sympathy or pity, both of which tend toward mere sentiment, but it is compassionate, which moves toward action. Christian love is deep, tough, substantive, and gracious.

This compare and contrast example is only one idea. There are other ways in which our understanding of what it means to be loving needs to be audited and challenged. So the call remains--we must let our love increase in knowledge and insight so that we can love as God has called us to love.

Peace,

David S.

A House of Prayer for All Nations

I trust the significance of last Sunday's service was not lost on anyone. It was a real pleasure to gather with the Indonesian congregation in worship and to sing songs in another language. The experience made me reflect upon a couple of themes that are dear to my heart.

To begin, I believe that when people of all nations come together in worship, we are witnessing to the power of the gospel. In Ephesians, Paul states the church reveals the wisdom of God to the rulers and authorities in the heavenly places (Eph. 3.9-10). No doubt, part of what Paul is describing here is a church of Jews and Gentiles who have come together in peace--"For he is our peace; in his flesh he has made both groups into one and has broken down the dividing wall, that is, the hostility between us" (Eph. 2.14). Here we see the church showing the world what God wants the world to be like, for at the end of the time, the nations walk in the light of the glory of God (Rev. 21.24).

All of this reminds me of a challenge the early Christians faced. Many of their opponents knew the prophecies of the Old Testament. They argued that many of these prophecies are unfufilled so Jesus must not be the Messiah. The opponents argued from a passage like Isaiah 2.1-5 that when the Messiah comes, there must be peace among the nations. But look around, these opponents continued, there is no peace among the nations, therefore, Jesus is not the messiah.

The early Christians responded by saying, You're wrong, look at the church, there you'll find people coming together from different tribes and languages to worship the one true God in glory. In responding to an opponent who utilizes the Isaiah 2 passage against the Christians, Origen states:

"This house is exalted 'above the hills' which are those men who seem to profess some exceptional ability in wisdom and truth. 'All nations' are coming to it, and 'many nations' go, and we exhort one another to the worship of God through Jesus Christ which has shone out in the last days, saying: 'Come, and let us go up to the mountain of the Lord and to the house of the God of Jacob, and he will proclaim to us his way and we will walk in it.'"

Similarly Justin wrote in the second century the following:

'That this prophecy [Isaiah 2.1-5], too, was verified you can readily believe, for twelve illiterate men, unskilled in the art of speaking, went out from Jerusalem into the world, and by the power of God they announced to the men of every nation that they were sent by Christ to teach everyone the word of God; and we, who once killed one another, [now] not only do not wage war against our enemies, but, in order to avoid lying or deceiving our examiners, we even meet death cheerfully, confessing Christ."

The early Christians pointed to the church as proof that the Messiah had come. In the church, there should be peace among the nation; and when there is, we show the world what God intends for the world. We become an appetizer to the great heavenly banquet.

So I hope that you share this vision, and that you want to build up the church, by learning to love all people from all nations. This is our call, this is our task.

Peace.

More Thoughts on "The Missy Question"

I'm still thinking about evil in creation as it relates to the Missy question--"God, if you can't take care of Missy, how can I trust you to take care of me?" I think it might be helpful to include some very lengthy quotes from David Bentley Hart. These are taken from a collection of essays in his book, In the Aftermath.

In the first quote he's challenging the belief that Christians must believe God is behind everything--the good as well as the evil, or that God needs evil and pain to prove how good he is. He's writing about the Indian Ocean Tsunami of December 2004 that destroyed towns and villages. Let's listen to his closing remarks.

"I do not to believe Christians are obliged--or even allowed--to look upon the devastation visited upon the coasts of the Indian Ocean and to console themselves with vacuous cant about the mysterious course taken by God's goodness in this world, or to assure others that some ultimate meaning or purpose resides in so much misery. Theirs is, after all, a religion of salvation; their faith is in a God who has come to rescue his creation from the absurdity of sin and the emptiness of death, and so they are permitted to hate these things with a perfect hatred. For while Christ takes the suffering of his creatures up into his own, it is not because he or they had need of suffering, but because he would not abandon his creatures to the grave. And while we know that the victory over evil and death has been won, we know also that it is a victory yet to come, and the creation therefore, as Paul says, groans in expectation of the glory that will one day be revealed. Until then, the world remains a place of struggle between light and darkness, truth, and falsehood, life and death; and, in such a world, our portion is charity." (116)

I want you to listen carefully to what he's saying here. This is a very Wesleyan perspective, one that liberates us from having to believe that God sends pain to teach us lessons or even that God needs evil for some greater good. The struggle this side of heaven is real. And truth be told, we will lose some skirmishes, but we won't lose the war. The not yet victory has already been won in the death and resurrection of Jesus. In the meantime, while we wait for the final victory, our job is charity--to witness to God's grace and love.

But there's more that needs to be said. Let's listen again to David Hart:

"As for comfort, when we seek it, I can imagine none greater than the happy knowledge that when I see the death of a child I do not see the face of God, but the face of his enemy. It is not a faith that would necessarily satisfy Ivan Karamazov, but neither is it one that his arguments can defeat: for it has set us free from optimism, and taught us hope instead. We can rejoice that we are saved not through the immanent mechanisms of history and nature, but by grace; that God will not unite all of history's many strands in one great synthesis, but will judge much of history false and damnable; that he will not simply reveal the sublime logic of fallen nature, but will strike off the fetters in which creation languishes; and that, rather than showing us how the tears of a small girl suffering in the dark were necessary for the building of the Kingdom, he will instead raise her up and wipe away all tears from her eyes--and there shall be no more death, nor sorrow, nor crying, nor any more pain, for the former things will have passed away, and he that sits upon the throne will say, "Behold, I make all things new."

Amen to that. Let us rejoice in the hope that we have.

Peace.

The Missy Question

As we continue our series entitled "Reflections on the Shack," we have to deal with the Missy question. Mack asks God, "If you can't take care of Missy, how can I trust you to take care of me?" This question embodies much of Mack's pain. At the core of his being, Mack no longer believes that God is good. Mack can't bring together these two words--pain and providence. They don't fit together when he first enters the shack.

You see, Mack believes, at the start of the book, that God must be behind everything--the good and the bad, justice and injustice. So Mack assumes that God must have played a part in Missy's death. Mack even asks, God, did you take Missy away from me for the way I treated my father? Mack believes God sends evil and he authors wickedness . . . to make a point.

This view creates some very troubling questions. Does God take away loved ones? Is disparity part of God's plan?--some children have everything, some won't see their first birthday. Does God send pain to teach us spiritual lessons, as some suggest? In other words, does God need evil to show how good he is?

I can't buy this. Can you?

Thankfully, there is an alternative. Mack soon discovers, as he journeys with God in the shack, that God is not behind everything. God reveals to Mack that in world where freedom is a reality, freedom can be abused. If freedom is real, the consequences have to be real as well. If God takes away the consequences, he must also take away the freedom. He gave us freedom because he wants to be freely loved, and we've abused it. This world is marred by our sin. Humans are at the pinnacle of creation, which means when we abuse our freedom and reject God's love, we unleash evil forces in all of creation.

All of this means, we don't have to believe that God's hands are wrapped around steering wheels or that his fingers are on triggers. We don't have to look into the death of a child and try to discern the face of God. We don't have to look at disparity and try to talk about the inscrutable purposes of God.

Instead, we can hate evil, wickedness and injustice with a perfect hatred. We can state clearly that this is not what God intends. Death is the final enemy to be defeated. There are still forces opposed to God's purposes.

The good news: these forces are being overcome. Our salvation is about redemption and rescue.

Peace.

The God Who Heals

It was a rough Sunday in my estimation. The sermon (10-4) was a little flat.

Let me restate it as briefly as I can. God wants to heal us by setting us free from sin and evil so that we can love and be loved. Read that one more time. It's important that we understand it.

You see, we believe sin separates us from God and from one another. Evil, the evil done to us and the evil we embrace, does the same thing; it weakens the intimacy we can enjoy with God and with others. If this is true, then salvation is being reconciled to God as well as to one another.

Luke's gospel points us in this direction. In Luke's gospel we discover that salvation is holistic. The word saved is often translated as made whole or made well (cf. Luke 8.48). Furthermore, we discover that many people that are healed and made whole again are set free for community life--the leper (Lk. 5), the woman with blood disorder (Lk. 8) and the woman bent over by evil (Lk. 18).

I believe we can relate to this. Our sin makes us like lepers, it keeps us from others. The evil in our lives does the same. Does it shock us then that God wants to set us free so that we can do what we really want to do, love others in joy and freedom? It doesn't shock me at all. God's mission is one of healing--the healing of the world and the healing of our lives.

I believe this is the movement we find in The Shack as well. Mack needs to be set free from his pain, evil, and his idolatry (the ways he's made God in his own image). In meeting God, the real God he is now free for love.

We need to pursue the same movement in our own life. We need to pursue health. You can't be too passionate about your own health. So here's my challenge. I want you to think about the things that keep you from others. What keeps you from loving? Shame? Guilt? Poor self-image? Pride? Arrogance? Fear? Work on these sins as the Spirit leads and transforms. Peace.

Papa's Womb-like Compassion

We finally began our series on The Shack. Last Sunday we delved into what many people find offensive about this book--it's portrayal of God. If you've read the book, you know what I'm talking about. God reveals himself to Mack, the main character, as an African American woman who loves to cook and is fond of everyone she speaks of.

Though many people have been offended by this picture, it never really troubled me. In scripture we discover maternal images of God. Read Isaiah 49.15-16 as well as Isaiah 66.13. Also, the Hebrew word for compassion used frequently in the Old Testament is the same root word for womb. Psalm 103.13 states "As a father has compassion for his children, so the Lord has compassion for those who fear him." The word compassion used in this verse is derived from the word womb. In other words, Papa has a womb-like compassion for his children. This is a powerful image trying to communicate the fierce and loyal love of the Lord!

Am I advocating that we call God mother? No, I'm not. Scripture never does. However, what we have to recognize is that all of our language about God is metaphorical. Our words and pictures never contain God, they only point to God. So envisioning that God loves us like a mother loves the offspring of her womb is a good way to understand God's embrace.

And that's really the point I was trying to make. God does love us. He is good to us. We must let that love descend to the very core of our being.

Peace.

Multiplying Our Sorrows

Last Sunday we talked a little bit about idolatry. Jeremiah, speaking to a fallen nation, highlights their self-inflicted wounds one more time (30.12-15). They have failed to keep the main thing the main thing, turning away from God and pursuing other lovers. This failure to make God their highest good in life created more problems not less.

So it is for us: when we increase our gods, we multiply our sorrows (Ps. 16.4). By taking a gift of God and elevating it to a god--depending upon it to save, to give us peace, security and abiding love--we make our lives incredibly complex. We wound ourselves.

For example, if you have to be in romantic relationship, you will create havoc in your life. You will sacrifice your morals and you will get involved in unhealthy relationships simply because you have to have a romantic relationship. This says more about you than anything else. It says, you don't have a core from which to live. You don't really have a self. There's no stability in your life. Since God is not the highest good in your life, you've take a gift from God and turned into an idol. This creates a huge problem is: you will always be disappointed. Romantic love will never bring rest to your soul.

The same thing can happen with children. If your children have to be successful and superior in order for you to be happy, then you will push your children in ways that will probably drive them away. You will try to create them into your own image rather than celebrate the image of God already made manifest in their lives. Yes, children, though a gift from God, can become an idol. We can be so wrapped up into our children--clinging to them, smothering them, demanding that others see how great they are--that we do more harm than good, to ourselves and our children. Because we don't have a core self rooted in God, we can't even help our children because we're in the water drowning with them, instead of standing on the shore and throwing out a life-preserver.

Or what about living for success. I've done that, and I did not like the results. I constantly compared myself to others. I became jealous or bitter when others succeeded. Don't get me wrong, success is a gift from God. It's good thing. If God gives it to you, rejoice, be humble and most of all, be thankful. But never turn it into a god, for it will never bring satisfaction to your soul.

The good news is that God wants to heal us. Jeremiah continues to proclaim, despite these self-inflicted wounds--that God wants to heal Israel (30.16-22). God wants to come and give us new hearts, hearts devoted to him (31.31-34). Will we let him? Or will we persist in our own idolatry and therefore in our sorrow. Peace!

God's Silence

Last Sunday we delved into Jeremiah's complaint speeches and God's responses. Remember, there were three responses: 1) encouragement--15.19-21; 2) Buck up camper, get your game face on--12.5; 3) silence--20.18.

The first two are little easier to comprehend. We know the importance of encouraging those in need as well as exhorting those who are about ready to quit. My parents, in love, offered me comfort and encouragement. They also, in love, pushed me from time to time much like a coach who's trying to get more out of his players.

But the third response is the most troubling of all. Jeremiah pours out his heart to God in chapter 20. He puts it all on the line, stating his wish to have never been born. You can't get any more honest than that. Yet, there is no response from God. Nothing. Nothing but silence.

Strange as it may sound, I can relate to that. All of us can. More than likely, we've experienced times when we could not do the one thing we wanted to do more than anything else--rescue a loved one. We have all had to watch someone for whom we care deeply suffer without being able to do anything to alleviate their suffering. Nothing can be said, nothing can be done. But that doesn't mean love is M.IA. Far from it, we're probably closer to our loved ones when we aren't able to rescue them. Our hearts ache, our spirits groan under the weight of watching and suffering with the person in pain.

So perhaps there is suffering this side of heaven for which there is no easy answer. There is stuff from which we can't be rescued. But that doesn't mean God is far from us. I want to believe he's closer to us than any other time, suffering with us, aching, and hurting. The cross seems to suggest that this is the case. Christ cried out, My God, my God, why have you forsaken me. There was no answer. But it's here that we encounter a very powerful mystery: suffering was taken into the very heart of God. This mystery tells us that we are not alone. God sees, God knows, God suffers with us.

Peace,

David S.

In Defense of Bad Logic

Alright, I'll admit it: My sermon last week was a bit of a logical leap. Nonetheless, let me defend it, hopefully not blindly.

We looked at Jeremiah's message of sin and sickness (chapters 5-6). You remember it, don't you? The people of God turned their backs on their creator and savior, failing to practice the justice and mercy to which they had been called. Because of this failure, their world fell apart. Compassion and kindness were nowhere to be found. Their sin made them sick.

To communicate this troubling truth so that we might really own it, I tried to state Jeremiah's thought positively by arguing that holiness leads to happiness. If rebellion against God and his ways create self-inflicted wounds, then doesn't it stand to reason that holiness leads to happiness? Rest assured, I'm not talking about drunk happy, drug happy, escapism happy, TV happy, or I'm-so-bored-I-need-an-extreme-sport happy. Rather, I'm talking about a deep happiness--lasting joy, peace, emotional health, security, and freedom. This happiness comes from knowing and serving God. I know it's not a simplistic formula. We will struggle and suffer. We will be afflicted with emotional stress and pressure. Yet, in the midst of it all, we can taste a bit of God's goodness that fills our hearts with joy and places us on a more liberating path than that of sin and selfishness.

But, we often sell ourselves short. We cheat ourselves by not letting God be God in our lives. Psalm 16.4 proclaims it clearly, "The sorrows of those will increase who run after other gods." Or in the words of Jeremiah, "do not follow other gods to your own harm" (7.6) When our core identity is wrapped up in something other than the security and freedom that comes from God's infinite love, we're trading in our glory for that which does not profit (cf. Jeremiah 2.5, 11, 25). To live for something other than God is to fall short of what it means to be human; it is to trade in a dollar for five cents. It is to be sorely disappointed.

Well, enough of my words . . . Listen to how others have stated this truth:

• In response to the question why did God descend to humans, Origen says it was "to implant in us the happiness which comes from knowing him."

• "My sin was this, that I looked for pleasure, beauty, and truth not in God but in myself, and in his other creatures, and the search led me instead to pain, confusion, and error." (Augustine)

• "We are half-hearted creatures, fooling about with drink and sex and ambition when infinite joy is offered us, like an ignorant child who wants to go on making mud pies in a slum because he cannot imagine what is meant by the offer of a holiday at the sea." (C.S. Lewis)

In summary, perhaps we need God to give us more faith, a faith that will empower us to trust that his ways are good, that he really does love us and wants to set us free to enjoy him and his creation.

Something to ponder.

Peace.

History Belongs to the Martyrs

Last week's text, Psalm 33, helped me explore a theme often neglected in the church. Psalm 33 proclaims that the earth is full of the steadfast love of the Lord. The writer sees this truth evident not only in the beauty of creation but in the crumbling of arrogant nations and the overthrow of powerful armies.

I wrestled with this theme for quite some time before the good Lord reminded me that it's true. There's something else going in the world than just brute force. Though there is struggle this side of heaven, we still see signs that the steadfast of the Lord is at work.

Simply put, history belongs to the martyrs. I don't merely mean people who die for their faith, though that is not to be excluded. Rather, I'm using the term the way it's employed in the New Testament. In the New Testament, the word martyr refers to one who witnesses to God's vulnerable love. Just think about all the examples we have of Christianity slowly growing and influencing the world, even without using political power and military might.

The early Christians died for their faith, refusing to bear arms against anyone. Slowly but surely their way of life won over most of the Roman Empire. St. Francis of Assissi lived a life of simple obscurity, caring for the poorest of the poor to the neglect of his own health. Today, we still find ourselves inspired by his witness. And let's not forget Mother Teresa, Martin Luther King Jr., missionaries who labor in the far off places for Christ's amazing love, and parents who witness in countless ways and invest in the kingdom by raising their children to be disciples--all inspired by the death and resurrection of Jesus.

We see this theme clearly at work in Revelation. This amazing book constantly reminds us that God will work for the good of those who love him, even though failure seems so immiment. At the end of time, we will worship the lamb who has been slaughter (Rev. 5). And gathered around the throne are those who have been God's faithful witnesses (Rev. 6, 7.14-17).

Is there anything more wonderful and shocking than this? Sounds to me like the steadfast love of the Lord rules history.

Peace.

When Kings Die

This week I have been confronted with my own vulnerability. Watching my eight-year-old son enter into the realm of tackle football has softened my heart to the harsh realities of our competitive culture.

A little background might be in order: My son has always excelled in football, flag-football, that is. He usually scores most of the points on his team. Twice they have placed him in the quarterback position. He catches well and more often than not he's the fastest kid on the team. He dreams of playing some football, at least at the high school level. I believe he is capable, if his will remains strong. (Yes, I know, everything I've said thus far does not come from an objective observer; but bear with me until I make my point.) You also need to know that this is his dream, not mine, in case you're wondering. I'm not that fond of the football mentality. But I dream with my children; I journey with them in their aspirations.

That aside, he strapped on the pads for three days of assessment to be placed on a team and in a position. He did not perform to his capacity. Thus, he has been assigned as a bottom dweller, and, I assume, a soon-to-be bench warmer. The tragedy of this entire experience is that there was no teaching, no instruction for those who have never played with pads. Sink or swim, sorry so sad was the basic approach. My son doesn't see what's happening, so he's okay. But the father, yours truly, aches. I find myself wondering, is this how it works? Is that what makes or breaks some people--a few days? You have a good night, you're noticed, you're placed in the quarterback position, someone works with you and believes in you, and your path is set for you. Others who lack the right father or the right opportunity or the right connections are left behind? This seems to be the harsh reality of our competitive world.

It has been good for me to remember this. Because as I said last week, when the kings of our lives die, then we can see the King. Remember Isaiah 6.1? "In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Lord . . ." Isaiah, faced with his own vulnerability--the loss of a good king, sees the King. There is a connection. When our dreams and the dreams of our children are dashed to pieces, then and perhaps only then, are our hearts finally open to see glory of God.

Yes, from time to time, we need to be reminded that we're pursuing stuff that was never intended to bear the full weight of our confidence. We keep thinking that a new relationship, a new car, the fulfillment of a desire will finally bring lasting rest and satisfaction to our weary souls. What we often miss is that these things, though often good, are as fragile as our mortal life. Here today, gone tomorrow.

So I pray this lesson is not lost on us. Faced with our fragile existence, may we be open to the King of glory--the one upon whom we must depend. He is the one designed to bear the weight of our confidence. Nothing else is secure.

Peace!

Living Out of God's Grace

The stranger danger alert system is alive and well.  I can see it in my own heart.  If I listen to my life I often find myself making snap judgments that excuse me from having to extend friendship to others.  Let's be honest, people who hold different opinions or who come from different traditions often frighten us.  So we stay away.  

But sometimes it's even a little worse.  Many people often have an attitude about their convictions--I'm right and everyone else is wrong; the world would be a better place if  others were more like me.  It's easy to gravitate toward this type of thinking; it feels so good.  

Yet we need to be reminded of its inherent dangers.  For starters, it's awfully hard to be right (assuming you're right, which you might not be) and still be nice.  Or to put it another way, our sense of being right often produces arrogance.  Then we're in danger of being as pure as angels and as arrogant as demons, looking down upon others who don't measure up to our standards.  It's one of the greatest temptations Christians face.  Through grace they find themselves enjoying a new quality of life, but then they forget it's grace and start to believe it's their own works that brought them this far.  Love and grace are then replaced with moralism. We've forsaken many vices only to be filled with the one that keeps us from God and others--pride!   

This pride makes a community sick.  It keeps us in our holy huddle, as we refuse to extend hospitality to those who are different.  To counterbalance this tendency, we must learn to live out of God's grace.  God's grace is being extended to all people, even to people we might not be fond of.  Now rest assured, I'm not suggesting we throw truth out the window.  What I am suggesting is that the foundation of our life and the foundation of our morality is always grace.  It's in allowing people to encounter love that lives are transformed for the better.  Furthermore, we have been saved by grace and we live by grace and so we're called to that extend grace to others.  A failure to do so only reveals a disconnect.  

Let's be fanatical followers of Jesus.  Let's live by and through the love that saved us.  

Peace! 

 

Fanatical Followers

 It's frequently suggested that most of the world's problems stem from fanaticism.  Is it true?  Is the world coming apart at the seems because there's too much religious fanaticism?  

The answer I would give is no.  Fanaticism isn't the problem; it's the object of your fanaticism that creates the problem.  As I stated in my sermon, Have you ever met an Amish terrorist?  Of course not.  Yet the Amish are some of the most fanatical people in the world; they're just fanatical about following Jesus, specifically, letting Christ's love and grace shape the way they relate to others.  

With that in mind, I call everyone to be a fanatical follower of Jesus.  Listen carefully to that sentence.  I don't want you to be fanatical about a principle, or a doctrine, or an agenda, or a particular church, or a particular way of worship.  These little "issues" that each person holds dear in his or her heart are annoying at best and divisive at worst.  All of these things are necessary, but they are necessary for only one purpose--helping us learn to live and love like Jesus lived and love.  Giving yourself to love, to be loved and to love, is the best thing you can do with your life.  Anything less than that is not worth our devotion.  

Again, please think about what I'm saying.  I'm saying, let's allow Christ to inhabit us--his love and grace.  Is there any better way to live?  I can't think of one.  I'm ready to fanatically follow this one who has fanatically followed me.   

May God raise up an army of grace-filled, love inspired Christians.  

  

Peace.

 

Resurrection--Matter Matters

It is resurrection Sunday.  No doubt, it's the cornerstone of our faith.  

But it is often misunderstood.  We need to remember that resurrection is not merely the reversal of death; it is not resuscitation.  Nor is it the release of the soul from the body.  It is a recreation of the human person.  Jesus was raised bodily but a unique body, recognizable but different (cf. John 20, 1 Corinthians 15).  

One implication of this belief is the affirmation of creation.  Too often, Christianity has implied that the body is a burden--creation, a mere shell.  The essence of life is the soul or the spirit, many have taught.  Christianity is more holistic than this.  Matter matters to God.  He created the world in love.  He redeemed the world in love.  The Bible doesn't say God so loved your soul but rather the world, cosmos in Greek, the original language of the New Testament (John 3.16).  Nowhere is the affirmation of creation more pronounced than in the resurrection.  The resurrection is the dawn of God's new creation.  It's the down payment, the first installment (first fruit in Paul's writings) of many more to come.  And this, of course, is connected to the redemption of all creation.  Remember, Paul links these two concepts together in Romans 8, announcing that all of creation is waiting for our redemption. 

How we live in light of this truth is really exciting.  We don't have to pursue endless retreats in the recesses of the soul.  Nor do we sit around and wait for heaven.  Instead, we must affirm all that is an affirmation of life.  That's why I always say, pursue truth, justice, goodness, and peace. 

I need to say more . . . but my brain is fried . . . And I'm leaving for vacation now. 

Peace,

Comedy or Tragedy

I'm a little behind--six days after the sermon.  Nonetheless the question remains, Are we living in a comedy or a tragedy?  At times it feels like a tragedy; nothing seems to work right: children rebel, the economy contracts, hatred abounds, conflicts grow.  Is there any hope?  Is what we see all there is?  Do you remember the movie "Stranger than Fiction"?  Will Ferrell starred a character whose life was being written by a novelist.  Will Ferrell's character, Harold Crick, is stuck in a meaningless job where nothing seems to go his way and in a life that is lonely at best.  He confesses in one scene his belief that he's actually living out a tragedy.  We can probably identify.  We've been there; life often feels like it's one big tragedy.

But we know better.  Christians are not living in a tragedy but a comedy.  Everything will come together in the end to the praise of God.  Our God is the creator of comedies.  Sarah testifies to this with her statement in chapter 21:  God has made laughter for me.  What an amazing ending to a long and tiring journey.  Finally, it all came together.  The hurt, the pain, the stress, the sorrow, the doubt was all answered by God's amazing ability to come through and bring new life out of the deadness.  Read Romans 4:18-25.  There we see the connection between Abraham's life and the resurrection of the dead.  So it shall be for us.  We're not on the losing side of history.  God will come through.  The promise-maker is a promise-keeper.  Keep going.  Don't give up.  Don't grow weary.  We will all laugh with joy again.  Peace.   

Judgment

Yesterday, we talked a bit about God's judgment.  It's  a theme that many people find difficult to comprehend.  Many wonder how can a God of love judge his creation.  Others scoff, stating, "God has no right to judge."  Both seem to assume that love and judgment are diametrically opposed to each other.  

I could not disagree more.  Love and judgment go together.  In order for God to save, he must also judge.  He can't pretend as if the world is whole when anyone with half a brain can readily seen that it isn't.  Furthermore, God can't merely cover up the evil that has defaced his good creation and has made a mockery of his noble intentions.  If God ignores evil, then he's neither loving nor good.  If God does not stand against oppression, hatred, racism, injustice, and sexual perversity, then he does not love.  But because he does love, he also judges.  

I believe this will probably work in at least two ways.  First, there will be a judgment at the end of time when evil will be eliminated.  Everything that can't be redeemed will be destroyed.  Revelation 20, along with many other chapters, describe this well.  But there is a also a judgment for those who can be ultimately redeemed but who also need a little cleaning up.  Paul talks about workers who labored for God but with shoddy workmanship; their desires and intentions weren't always noble.  Paul says, they will be saved but as through a fire (1 Cor. 3.15).

Again, both of these examples speak of God's love.  Because of God's love for creation, evil must be dealt with.  Doctors will often have to use invasive measures to heal a patient.  They do this out of compassion.  So it is with God.  

All of this should help us understand better the work of the cross.  In Romans we learn the "wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and wickedness of those who by their wickedness suppress the truth" (Romans 1.18).  But there is hope:  "they [Jew and Gentile] are now justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith" (Romans 3.25).   In the cross, love and judgment come together.  God was in Christ reconciling the world unto himself (2 Cor. 5).  God absorbed the evil of the world in order to defeat it.  The judge submitted to his own judgment to release us from the bondage of sin and death--God embraced his own wrath in Christ through the cross. For it is in the cross that God judged sin and wickedness, and he also set the sinner free.    

Our response?  It's simple:  Receive his grace and walk in the light as he is in the light (1 John 1); become a participant in God's new creation made available to you through Christ (2 Cor. 5).   

Peace.   

Reformation of Our Desires

I'm still thinking about the previous post, in part, because I've been living out of the book James.  In my last reflection, I talked about Evagrius Ponticus.  I find his teaching very helpful and challenging and something that fits well with the book of James.  

In speaking about wisdom, for instance, James states wisdom produces a good life with works done "with gentleness born of wisdom" (James 3.13).  This is the wisdom that comes from above--it is "Pure, then peacable, gentle, willing to yield, full of mercy and good fruits, without an trace of partiality or hypocrisy"  (3.17).  No surprise here, except for the religious blinded by their own principles:  James in the tradition of the prophets and Jesus, believes that wisdom has everything to with how treat others.    

Then James goes on the offensive by asking, What about those conflicts among you, where do they come from?  His answer is not easy to swallow.  James does not go into a lengthy sociological or psychological explanation.  Instead he says, they come from "your cravings that are at war within you."  The problem is . . . say it with me . . . malformed desires.  We want what we cannot have.  We ask with the wrong motives.  We are friends with the world. "Adulterers!" James thunders, "Do you not know that friendship with world is enmity toward god.  Therefore whoever wishes to be a friend of the world becomes an enemy of God" (vs. 4).  As I've said before, it's what we love more than God that makes us so violent.  It's what we place above God that needs to be defended and fought over--our pride, our security, our success, etc. etc.  So you see it's not that we want a conflict, but it's what we want that makes a conflict inevitable.  

Ouch!  We're in some hot water today.  Where do we turn now?  

The answer is simple, at least according to James:  Get right with God.  He states, "Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil, and he will flee from you.  Draw near to God, and he will draw near to you.  Cleanse your hands, you sinners, and purify your hearts, you double-minded."  

Now we come full circle.  If we respond to God by drawing near to him, we will discover the wisdom that produces peace and gentleness and justice, the wisdom that comes from above.  We will have new set of desires.  Our hearts will be directed toward God and not toward the things that make fights inevitable.   

Peace! 

Faith and Generosity

Recently, I have been intrigued with a relatively unknown Christian writer, Evagrius Ponticus (A.D. 345-399).  What he teaches applies to the theme I was trying--operative word--to communicate this morning.  Evagrius argues that agape love (self-sacrificial and forgiving love) is the progeny of apatheia (rightly ordered passions and emotions).  

It sounds strange, in part, because it's not the way we think about things.  We usually assume that love comes to us without much work or effort.  Evagrius believes that agape love will be present mostly in people whose passions and desires are properly ordered. 

It's something to consider, even if you're not ready to agree with him.  If our desires are disordered, our love will be stunted.  If we're focused on the wrong things--money, comfort, or sensuality--above all else, we will be controlled by other forces that we can't manage.  Love of pleasure often leads to anger.  Love of pride often leads to hostility.  Love of money often leads to neglect--of our loved ones and of our soul.  Lust, in all of its forms, objectifies others, believing, like a consummate consumer, that everyone exists for my own pleasure.  Our malformed desires and passions will make it very difficult to love.   

But for the person with an active faith in God everything changes.  With faith, we start to want the right things rightly.  Trusting now in God, we believe he will provide for us.  We no longer have to grasp and pursue things unrighteously.  We can rest and witness.  

We can be peacemakers, in other words, like Abraham.  In Genesis 13, Abraham did not grasp.  He trusted that the Promise-maker would be a Promise-keeper.  It's out of Abraham's daring faith that peace, between family members, is maintained.  

Let there be peace on earth and let it begin with me . . . by learning to want the right things rightly.

David S.

Leaving and Following

Today (1-18), we started our journey with Abraham by considering his call (12.1-9).  It's a call to which all of us can relate.  

Like Abraham, we're called to be a blessing.  God has a mission, therefore, there is a church.  God has a mission to heal the world that he loves, so he calls together communities to be witnesses.  (I need to be careful with that sentence: I don't mean everyone is called to evangelize, but we're called to reflect the character of God, together).   This is what God is frequently up to--he's calling people together to be witnesses, to be a blessing.  It's our call as well.  

But to get there, God will frequently call us to leave the familiar.  God will call us to leave what we find so comfortable so that we can embrace the new.  It's a critical step that should not even need much comment.  However, this is where many struggle.  Isn't this where New Year's resolutions fail?  People make a commitment, forgetting that every commitment requires a renunciation.  If you want to read 100 books this year, you'll have to unplug the TV.  So it is for our spiritual lives.  God calls us to follow him and join him in a new adventure.  But to do that, we often--not always--are called to leave the familiar.  We must leave the sin that so easily entangles.  Or perhaps we're being called to a ministry, and we must leave the TV shows we really enjoy--moving away from the trite toward a treasure.  

Now please hear me:  I'm not trying to paint dramatic pictures of leaving the Tri-Valley area.  I'm envisioning a renunciation of a self focussed solely on comfort (or on some other idol) for a self centered on God and His will.   I'm also envisioning several tiny renunciations that keep us from getting stuck in a habit or a way of thinking which keeps us from loving others.  In short, most of us will not have to go anywhere in order to leave.  

The next part of the formula is that we're called to journey with God.  Abraham is not given a map or timeline--just a call to go with God, and God will show him the land.  It's truly a journey.

The same is true for us.  We're not called to follow some rules but to follow our savior.  It will be different for all of us.  But still we follow together.  Each person must decide whether or not he or she will respond and follow Jesus.  You won't know what it looks like.  It's a journey, but a journey well worth it.  

I pray God will continue to show the way you should go.  

Peace.

Holiness

Here are some loosely connected thoughts related to holiness, the theme of last Sunday's message:

First, holiness is both positive and negative.  As God calls us to holiness, he calls us to leave all that detracts from treating ourselves with respect and treating others with the reverence they deserve as children of God.  Examples would include the following:  pornography, lust, hatred, greed.  This is the negative aspects of holiness, we're called and empowered by God to say no to things that hurt us and others. The positive aspect of holiness is then living out of our new relationship with God through Christ in love.  Holiness is a fulfilling of the great commandment to love God and love others. 

  

Second, you can’t be holy alone.  Perhaps that statement needs to be audited.  But for now, I want to stay true to it.  Holiness is relational through and through.  Augustine believed that charity is the quintessential virtue for the Christian; and he also taught that holiness, defined by charity, leads us to others.  John Wesley believed there could be no holiness but social holiness.  Both of these men were standing on the foundation of scripture in making these statements.  When Isaiah talks about holiness he resorts to the themes of justice and mercy, as does the other prophets in the OT.  Paul speaks of love and hospitality in Romans 12-15.  Then read 1 Peter.  Peter calls the church to holiness but continues to define holiness relationally.  Holiness is personal (we all must appropriate, personally, what God has done in Christ), but holiness is not private (we can’t be holy on our own).  In short, we’re called to be holy together.  

Third, and related to everything else I've said, holiness makes us better at communal life.  Sin separates us from God, from ourselves, and from others.  That was the point of the illustration with the cardboard cutouts.  Sin keeps us from our true selves by making it very difficult to fellowship with others.  But as we grow closer to God, and as he speaks to us about our sin, we also draw closer to others.  This is the trajectory of the Law, the Prophets, Jesus, and Paul.    

Finally, holiness is a gift.  I can’t emphasize this enough.  Holiness is not something we obtain in our own strength.  We have been made alive in Christ.  In Christ we are made holy.  As Paul says in 1 Corinthians, speaking to knuckleheads no less: “But you were washed, you were sanctified (made holy), you were justified in the name of the Lord Jesus Christ and in the Spirit of our God” (6.11).  Paul believes they already have the foundation of sanctification (holiness).   Yet this does not mean we stay as we are.  Instead, we must appropriate all that God has done for us.  We must become who we are.  John Wesley believed we must strive with God’s strength to pursue a holiness of heart and life, to respond to the gift that has been given to us.  Such is our call.  

Peace!