Giving Part 3

For this last post on giving I will return to another favorite text of mine--2 Corinthians 8. Paul does something remarkable in this section of scripture by making an intimate (direct?) connection between grace and giving.

Paul writes this chapter to goad the Corinthians into following through with a pledge they had made to give to the poor Christians in Jerusalem (2 Cor. 9; 1 Cor. 16.1-4). As Paul traveled and preached the gospel, he was also asking Gentile churches to give to a fund to support the Jerusalem church which had fallen on hard times. To encourage the Corinthians to make good on their promises, he uses the Macedonian Christians as an example.

Read the text carefully. You will notice that the Macedonians gave out of poverty, not wealth. Though Paul was reluctant to mention his collection because of their own suffering, the Macedonians pleaded and begged to participate in this offering (2 Cor 8.1-4).

Can you imagine it? When's the last time you've heard of Christians begging to participate in an offering. Most of the time, Christians resent any mention of a need in church. But these Macedonians, though lacking in wealth and comfort, wanted to give to support the Jewish Christians in Jerusalem.

But more remarkable still is the language Paul employs to describe the action of the Macedonian churches. Notice, Paul begins by describing the grace of God given to the Macedonian Christians. Then, he continually refers to the offering as a "grace" in the original language, Greek (NSRV: vs. 4--privilege (grace); vs. 6--generous undertaking (grace); vs. 7--generous undertaking (grace); vs. 19--generous undertaking (grace), cf. footnotes in your Bible). To summarize this theme Paul refers to the "'generous act' (grace) of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sakes he became poor . . ." (vs. 19)

To me that places the concept of giving in another realm altogether. In light of God's grace and the grace that has been given to us we're called to participate in the grace of giving, of sacrificing for others and for the common good.

With that in mind, I find myself agreeing with many others who argue that a 10% tithe is merely a good starting point--just a beginning to teach us and shape us so that we might begin to grasp the grace of giving sacrificially. After all, to give in a manner that reflects grace certainly requires us to no longer give merely out of our leftovers. Rather we must grow in stewardship so that our giving actually points to what God has done for us in Christ Jesus.

Wow! I have some thinking and praying to do. I hate when I convict myself.

Peace.

Giving Part 2

We live in a culture that tells us to follow our hearts. You know the routine, you've heard the messages: What's really important is that you really believe in your heart that you're doing the right thing, that you are sincere.

We apply the same logic to the rightful use of our resources. We say, in so many words, what really matters is that you give your heart to Jesus and then you can do whatever you want to with your money and time.

I'm afraid such an approach leads too easily down the well-trodden path of self-deception. It's almost as if this language is a trump-card to avoid any call to obedience or any challenging conversation. To put it more forcefully, perhaps the church has reaped a harvest of souls, but we have not reaped many people who are willing to seek first the kingdom and restructure their lives in light of its coming.

Furthermore, the assumption that we can reduce everything to a personalized decision of what the heart is focussed upon misrepresents what Jesus taught. Jesus does not say, where your heart is there your treasure will be. Instead, he offers a more challenging statement: "Where your treasure is, there you heart will be also" (Matthew 6.21). Do you see the difference? The latter focusses upon something much more concrete. It forces to think about what we treasure more than anything else, what has captured our imagination, what's central in helping us make decisions. And part of Jesus' concern is money in this text. Just a few verses later, Jesus says, "You cannot serve both God and Money."

All of this leads me to a series of questions. How much influence does money have on our lives? Is that our true treasure? Is that what matters to us more than anything else? Can we look at our checkbooks and discern where our true treasure is? Or is that too simplistic? Those are great questions to ponder as we continue to reflect upon what it means to be disciples in God's coming kingdom.

Peace.

Giving Part 1

We had a great discussion in our small group last week about honoring God with our resources. It truly is a challenging concept but one we must take seriously. It is a frequent theme in scripture. Many have claimed that Jesus talked more about recourses and money than any other single subject matter. It doesn't surprise me. After all, the love of money is the root of all evil.

With that in mind, I want us think more about this topic with a series of blogs. Let's begin with Deuteronomy 8.

This chapter is one my favorites. It focusses on the temptation to pride and self-sufficiency. The concern is when the Israelites enter into the promise land and begin to taste success they will forget the Lord:

"Take care that you do not forget the Lord your God, by failing to keep his commandments, his ordinances, and his statutes, which I am commanding you today. When you have eaten your fill and have built fine houses and live in them, and when your herds and flocks have multiplied, and your silver and gold is multiplied, and all that you have is multiplied, then do not exalt yourself, forgetting the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery" (11-14).

The concept is easy to grasp. Once we taste success, we start to think, I've done it. Hence the warning: "Do not say to yourself, 'My power and the might of my own hand have gotten me this wealth'" (vs. 17). The temptation is pride and self-sufficiency. The call is to remember that God made it all possible. The warning is, "Do not forget."

This problem is still with us. David Bosch, a man who studied extensively the expansion of the church throughout history, stated that there has never been a significant movement of God in an affluent culture. John Wesley noticed that whenever wealth increased, the passion for God decreased. The lukewarm church in Revelation is probably the wealthiest; they're boasting that they don't need anything (Rev. 3.14-22). Do you see how it works? We become possessed with our possessions.

Perhaps one way to avoid this is learning to give sacrificially. Part of what the Israelites were called to do in Deuteronomy is to bring in their firstfruit offerings and their tithes. As an act of worship, this is a great way to praise God for making it all possible, a great way to remember.

What about us? What do we do? Paying God last, after we've taken care of everything we think important, hardly seems right to me. What if we learn to pay God first and limit our spending because of that commitment? Maybe we need it. What do you think?

Peace.

Vocabulary of Faith

The thought occurred to me the other day that part of the reason Christianity isn't as compelling as it should be has a lot to do with our language. The words of our faith no longer work without careful explanation. They have been soiled with layers of cultural garbage. Words like sin, salvation, grace, justice and mission have lost their true meaning and also their glory. So I will attempt the presumptuous task of creating a vocabulary of faith, doing my best to stay true to the teaching and traditions of the church. I will make them brief, imagining that I must tweet each definition. Here it goes:

Creation--a sign and symbol of God's extravagant love. God needs nothing or no one to be happy or content. He exists in a communion of three--Father, Son, and Spirit. Since he needs nothing, he created for no other reason but to share his beauty and love with us.

Sin--"to be curved in on oneself" (Martin Luther), refusing to let God be God. Which means rebellion against God's truth and beauty, refusing to respond to God because we're distracted by the cares of this world, and even religious activity for the wrong reason are all forms of God-avoidance.

Grace--receiving what you did not and cannot ever deserve or earn. At the foundation of our faith is what God has done in Christ. Even our ability to respond to Christ's calls comes from God's prior work. It's all due to God's faithful and unmerited love; he does not treat us as our sins deserve.

Salvation--to be rescued from our self-centered autonomy through Christ's work and his Spirit so that we can serve God by following Jesus with others, while actively waiting for the redemption of all that is.

Faith--an absolute trust and dependence in God's wisdom and truth revealed in Christ, to have a new orientating concern producing a new way of life--the obedience that comes from faith (Romans 1.5).

Church--a community set apart by God to show the world what God envisions for the entire world. We're called to be a new social order shaped by the sacrificial love of the lamb, embodying the faith, hope and truth of Christ's gracious reign.

Mission--what God is doing to reclaim the world. God is at work in creation, Christ, and the church. To embrace God's mission is to live out the hope and love of his reign by sharing and giving in countless ways.

I hope this helps. If you would like to know more about my approach here, you'll have to treat me to coffee. If you would like scriptural references, you'll have to take me to lunch. Peace!

New Creation

I will try to share some loosely connected thoughts on the phrase, New Creation (Galatians 6). I only have twenty minutes, so wish me luck.

I will start with a quote from Richard Hays:

"The church embodies the power of the resurrection in the midst of a not-yet-redeemed world. Paul's image of "new creation" stands here as shorthand signifier for the dialectal eschatology that runs throughout the New Testament. In the present time, the new creation already appears, but only proleptically; consequently, we live in suspense between Jesus' resurrection and parousia: 'The whole creation has been groaning in travail together until now; and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies'" (Rom. 8:22-23). (Hays, 198)

Hays goes on to elaborate that in Christ we know that the powers of the old age are doomed, and the new creation is already appearing. This creates the tension he mentioned above: On the one hand, any notion that anyone or any movement is a perfect representation of God's kingdom is mistaken; for the kingdom is not yet. On the other hand, we still celebrate that there is something significant happening right here and right now, for God's reign has dawned in the ministry of Jesus.

But the question remains, where? Where is this new creation? According to Paul's writings, and reading between the lines a bit, the new creation is found in Christ, in the Spirit, and in the church. We experience Christ's love and forgiveness by becoming new creatures in him. The Spirit bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God--Romans 8:16. The spirit is also the first fruits (Romans 8:23), which means there's more to come; God is not done yet: All of creation is groaning, waiting for redemption. Last but not least, we experience God's new creation when we encounter a community that lives out God's sacrificial love.

My time is up. I must now go and talk about "Violence in Defense of Justice." I'm sure I'll be crucified. Peace!

The Family, The Nation, The City Within a City

This week I will cite two quotes, both of which deal with the notion that we are set free for love, specifically sharing together in God's love.

"The gospel is never for individuals but always for a people. Sin fragments us, separates us, and sentences us to solitary confinement. Gospel restores us, unites us, and sets us in community. The life of faith revealed and nurtured in the biblical narratives is highly personal but never merely individual: always there is a family, a tribe, a nation--church . . . A believing community is the context for the life of faith . . . Love cannot exist in isolation: away from others, love bloats into pride. Grace cannot be received privately: cut off from others, it is perverted into greed. Hope cannot develop in solitude: separated from the community, it goes to seed in the form of fantasies."

Outdo one another in showing honor (Rom. 12.10)

Live in harmony with one another (Rom. 12.16)

Welcome one another (Rom. 15.7)

Admonish one another (Rom. 15.14)

Greet one another with a holy kiss (Rom. 16.16)

Wait for one another (1 Cor. 11.33)

Have the same care for one another (1 Cor. 12.25)

Be servants of one another (Gal. 5.13)

Bear one another's burdens (Gal. 6.2)

Comfort one another (1 Thess. 5.11)

Build one another up (1 Thess. 5.11)

Be at peace with one another (1 Thess. 5.13)

Do good to one another (1 Thess. 5.15)

Bear with one another lovingly (Eph. 5.2)

Be kind and compassionate to one another (Eph. 4.32)

Be subject to one another (Eph. 5.21)

Forgive one another (Col. 3.13)

Confess your sins to one another (James 5.16)

Pray for one another (James 5.16)

Love one another from the heart (1 Pet. 1.22)

Be hospitable to one another (1 Pet. 4.9)

Meet one another with humility (1 Pet. 5.5)

Have fellowship with one another (1 John 1.7)

(List take from Lohfink's, Jesus and Community, 101)

Need I say more?

Peace.

Resisting the Powers

Last week's sermon represented many years of reflection. Over the past few years, I've been thinking about this strange language in the New Testament of powers, rulers, authorities, and elemental substances.

Here's where I stand right now on the subject matter. There are forces at work in the world that manifest themselves through human institutions, ways of thinking, philosophy, and culture. These forces or powers were created as good, created by God in Christ (Col. 1:15-16). After all, we can't live without any any of the things mentioned above.

However, these powers or forces have been infected with evil, and therefore they often take on a life of their own and assume a god-like role for us; this explains why Jesus had to disarm these powers (Col. 2:15) and why the rulers crucified Christ (1 Cor. 2.8). With that in mind, we can now understand the problem--humans submit to these other powers and forces, and they become enslaved to them (Galatians 4.1-11).

The examples are legion. Sex is good, created by God to be enjoyed between two people in a marriage relationship. However, sexual freedom has taken on a life of its own; it's in the air. It's as if the worst thing imaginable is to deny your sexual desires, no matter how base they might be, creating another problem in our culture--sexual addiction. Government is necessary, but most governments demand our allegiance, which can easily separate us from Christ and his kingdom. Philosophy is good and worthwhile, but it often sets up ways of looking at the world that separate us from the ways that God wants us to live. On and on the list could go. The point being, there are many enslaving forces in our world.

The answer to this dilemma is, of course, God's work on the cross in Christ. Christ disarmed the powers and redeemed us from the enslaving forces. Now we know who the true Lord is. For we also know how evil the powers have become; they would rather kill God's son than assume their rightful place. Therefore, we should be done with them, we should die to them, and live for Christ.

After all, why live for idols? They will only increase your sorrows (Ps. 16.4).

Peace

Refusing to Let God Be God

"The greatest mistake we can make, spiritually speaking, is to remain at a distance from God, content to engage in a few routine exercises of piety and to avoid sin as a matter of moral duty. We respect God as our maker, but our hearts do not belong wholly to him. We are still absorbed in our own ambitions, troubles, comforts, anxieties, interests, and fears. When we do turn to God, it is usually because we want him to sort out our difficulties or dispense rewards, but the thought of passionate, committed love embarrasses us." (Susan Muto, Pathways of Spiritual Living, 143-144).

This little quote might very well be a good summary of the apathy that infects the church from time to time. The problem, if we take Muto's thoughts seriously, is certainly not God. Nor is the problem the world per se. It's not busyness or moral complexity. The problem is our own failure to let God really be God in our lives. I worry that many people like the idea of God--just in case it might be true. Many others are interested in God because they believe that if they give him just enough obedience God will reward them with comfort. Very few simply want God for who he is. Many bristle at the thought of surrendering their lives to him in our commitment adverse culture; they want to keep their options open.

All of this reveals a much deeper problem--a failure to comprehend the gospel. If we truly know, deep down inside, the extent of God's love--the love which motivated this same God to give up his son for our freedom, then giving our entire selves to God is not strange at all. Paul gave up his commitment to the law once he met Christ. Having come to terms with the Son of God who loved him and gave himself up him, Paul willingly--joyfully--gave up his old way of looking at the world in order to be found in Christ. Simply put, the gospel should change us into people who want live for God and His love.

Peace.

Embodied Salvation

I've recently read Bryan Stone's book, Evangelism after Christendom, for the third time (yes, it's that good). He's arguing that the church must be a foretaste to what God envisions for the entire world. God's reign of peace has been inaugurated in the death and resurrection of Jesus. As the church waits for the fulness of that reign the church is called show the world what God envisions for the entire world. To articulate this fuller, Bryan Stone mentions three signs of the church (not exhaustive but illustrative) for consideration:

First, joy. "According to Luke, the church's response to rejection and persecution was that 'the disciples were filled with joy and with the Holy Spirit' (Acts 13.52)." Furthermore, throughout the New Testament, the word joy is repeatedly used to describe new life (read Philippians as one example).

Second, unity. Two texts come to mind--John 17 and Acts 4:32-34. The former text depicts Jesus praying for the church, and high on his list is unity. The latter describes what life looks like when the Spirit takes up residence in a community.

Third, resistance. This last sign of the church is the most challenging. " . . . if Jesus is Lord, then resistance was due to any power that would attempt to exercise rival lordship in the life of the believer, either by determining that person's identity or by requiring the believer to do things contrary to the reality of God's reign" (105). He continues to recount the early Christians refusal to be placed in service to the state. Then he states: "This latter point about resisting the powers is central to the apostolic narrative of the birth of the church but is frequently overlooked in the present church's retelling, probably because we do not represent anything like a threat to the status quo (whether that be the state, the military, the market, or civil society. Jesus, as we know, was executed on charges of crimes against both the temple and the state . . ." After reminding us of this sobering truth, Stone reminds us how often the earliest Christians found themselves in trouble for being the church (cf. Acts). The point being, we can't give our souls to Jesus and then surrender our bodies to the state or the market, that is, if Jesus is truly Lord. For if he's Lord, it all belongs to him--our bodies, souls, and minds.

This latter paragraph is very powerful and maybe even troubling to us. Something to think about.

I'm Back

It's been a while since I've blogged. I'll try to do better. What to say today? I don't really know. I'll turn to some thoughts from the sermon (7-25).

Yesterday, we looked at the main issue in Galatians--how quickly the Galatians defected from the God who called them in grace.

The Galatians were swayed by another gospel, by another version of the good news--the gospel of the law. Many believed that is what everyone needed; they believed the law is and should remain the main thing. It's what will ultimately save.

For Paul, the gospel is nothing more or less than the good news of God's kingdom. The phrase he uses in Galatians is New Creation: "For neither circumcision nor uncircumcision is anything; but a new creation is everything!" (Galatians 6.15). This New Creation/Kingdom has begun and it will come in its fullness. Between these two advents, the church is called to witness to what God intends for the entire world. This is the gospel; there is no other.

The question remains, what does it mean to be a community of this gospel? What other gospels might we be tempted to live for that keep us from representing what God envisions for the world? For the Galatians it was the law, but for us it might be something else. Thoughts?

Peace.

Practices of the Gospel

I posed the following question in yesterday's sermon, Shouldn't we embrace practices that reflect and strengthen our commitment to the God who has saved us in love?

I asked that question because of Acts 15. In that amazing story, the early church dismissed the ritualistic law as a binding force on the Christian community. But the church did not dismiss naming a form of life that reflects true gospel living. The early council affirmed that there are practices to be avoided, namely practices related to idol worship. It's important to follow the logic here: the council did not impose new ritualistic regulations on the Gentiles, rather they wanted to makes sure the Gentiles understood that they have been set free from the gods of the market and the gods of the state to serve the one true God of Israel (cf. 1 Thess. 1).

In light of this text, What would be wrong with us embracing practices that help us stay true to God--even if those practices are somewhat specific to our context? If we have truly tasted the goodness of God, what would be wrong with saying here are some structures that enable us to live in that goodness?

I can't think of anything that would be wrong with that. Can you? The next question is then, What practices should we embrace? What type of structure do we need? What do you think?

Peace.

Conversion

Last Sunday we talked about Paul's conversion found in Acts 9. What I love about this story, as well as the many other conversion stories in Acts, is that Paul's conversion is about being enlisted into God's cause. Paul, a man with a strong agenda, is changed by his encounter with the truth that Jesus is the Messiah. This is not a story of self-actualization; instead it's a story of real change because of an encounter with the truth. Paul's kingdom, his agenda, crumbled to the ground, making room for God's agenda.

I suggested the same must happen to us. The call for us is to learn to give up on trying to save ourselves through whatever means we find meaningful, and instead, to give up ourselves for Christ and his kingdom. The goal is not to make Christ relevant to our lives, but to let the Spirit transform us so that our lives become relevant to God and his kingdom.

But what does that mean? I think at a bare minimum it means that the Kingdom of God is now on our radar screens. You see, we might not know what to do. We might even feel lost in terms of direction, but there's been a change. Whereas once it was all me, myself and I; now we're thinking about and beginning to desire the truth, beauty and goodness found in God, in his Son, and in his creation.

Conversion is fundamentally a transformation of our desires. More on that later . . .

Peace.

Elder Brother, Again

I'm still thinking about the elder brother. I'm sorry, I can't help myself. I can't stop thinking about it.

The thought occurred to me this afternoon, perhaps this parable is scandalous because of our inability to perceive properly--and receive!--God's love. God's love might not be enough . . . and yet it might be too much for us.

Reading Henri Nouwen's The Return of the Prodigal Son has forced me to ask the question, Is God's love enough? The elder brother has been with his father, and his father has left the party to find him, to invite him in. The father obviously loves the elder son. But it's not enough. There's something more he desires. Control? Money? Appreciation? All of the above? Who knows? The questions remains, Is God's love enough for us? Is it enough for me?

It if it isn't enough for me, then it's easy to become filled with resentment. I will resent those who have more and who do less, find myself bitter when I'm not acknowledged for the love I give, angry when I do not receive the respect I feel I deserve, unable to rejoice with those who rejoice.

Nouwen believes the elder brother is lost in resentment. God's love is not enough, therefore, he feels cheated. He refuses to be found, resisting God's love.

But on the other hand, perhaps God's love is too much. The elder brother might resist God's love because he's not sure he wants a father who loves rebellious younger brothers with equal passion. This son of the father's has wasted the family's inheritance, weakened their social and economical standing, and yet, he is treated like a faithful prince. This is offensive to common sense morality. It's much like the parable of the workers--at the end of the day everyone received the same amount, those who worked all day and those who only worked the last hour. God's love is too much for some. I mean, honestly, do we want to sit down at a table with immoral losers who stand against all we support and now, by grace, are a part of the kingdom? Many of the Pharisees weren't interested in a such a kingdom. Are we? Is God's grace too great? Is his mercy too wonderful for us? Is his love too much? Are ready and willing to sit down at a table and fellowship with former, or current, enemies who are loved equally by God.

After all, God's grace might take us into the heart of some of our deepest fears. God's grace calls us to relinquish control. We can longer depend upon our own goodness but upon God's mercy. Furthermore, we can't dictate anymore who's in and who's out; this is God's doing. And he might very well call us to people we don't like. It's really hard to believe that God does NOT dispense his love based upon how well people behave. It's not a performance-based love. It's free for all! God's love is often too much.

If any of this is true, how do we respond? If we're still stuck, then what do we do. Nouwen suggests three things. First, let yourself be found. God wants you, let him find you. Recognize that he's been searching for you, stop running, stop working, let yourself be found. Second, trust--trust in the father's love. His love should be enough for us. Third, live with gratitude. We're called to recognize that all is a gift, the call to work early in the day and the ability to work late in the day. It's all a donation from God's love, a response to God's initiating grace.

We return to the theme from The Shack: "Learn to live loved." Easier said than done.

Peace.

The Older Brother

Timothy Keller is fairly hard on the older brother (The Prodigal God). He believes the older brother is lost. His self-righteousness blinds him to the need for grace, therefore, he's not living in a relationship of joy and love with the father. Is Timothy Keller correct in his assessment? Or is he being too hard on the older brother?

I'm still thinking about it. But this is where I stand right now: the older brother's response is understandable but not necessarily excusable--it's not something we should endorse. After all, he is bitter and angry. He doesn't believe the celebration is fair; his father's passionate love has deeply offended him. So he refuses to participate in this feast of love and forgiveness, clinging to his own morality, refusing to participate in the kingdom of grace. At the end of the day, he's not too sure he wants to be a part of a family where rebellious sons are loved and embraced without restitution, without paying for their mistakes.

In light of the context--Jesus speaking to the Pharisees--this is a legitimate interpretation, I feel, of the older brother. Remember, many of the Pharisees were scandalized by Jesus because of his message of grace. They were constantly on the outside looking in. They did not see their need to repent of their self-righteousness to become a part of God's new creation.

The older brother is like that. The father is pleading with him to come in--to enter into the kingdom of love, forgiveness, and transforming grace. But he refuses.

Such an interpretation pushes us toward the heart of the gospel. The gospel is not fundamentally about morality, nor is it about immorality. Rather the gospel is first and foremost about living abundantly in Christ. It's about being a part of God's new creation, about becoming a new creature in Christ--all of which comes from God's gracious activity in our lives. The gospel is not I obey, therefore, God must accept me. Such an approach is a prison because the question becomes, "How much obedience do I owe?" The gospel instead is, I'm accepted, therefore, I obey. The life I live, I now live in Christ. This is the only stance that truly enables us to love, forgive, and bless our enemies because it recognizes that all is from grace. Perhaps that's what the older brother forgot, he forgot that it's all a gift; it all comes from grace.

I'm thinking of Paul. If anyone lived a moral life according to the law, it was Paul: "as to righteousness under the law, blameless" (Phil. 3). But he continues: "Yet whatever gains I had, these I have come to regard as loss because of the surpassing value of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things, and I regard them as rubbish, in order that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but one that comes through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God based on faith" (Phil. 3).

What matters, even for a former Pharisee like Paul, is new life in Christ and his kingdom.

Peace.

The Threat of Justice?

Glenn Beck has caused quite stir among Christians lately. On his March 2 radio show, Beck told his listeners: "I beg you, look for the words 'social justice' or 'economic justice' on your church Web site. If you find it, run as fast as you can. Social justice and economic justice, they are code words. Now am I advising people to leave their church? . . . Yes! Leave your church." Beck went on to state that "social justice" was the common rallying cry of both Nazis and Communists.

Questions naturally abound: Are those the words that come to mind when you think about Hitler and Stalin--social justice? Does Beck understand the biblical tradition? He says social justice is the forced redistribution of wealth--Does he honestly believe that's what Christians mean by social justice? (No church tradition I know of supports this.) How many Christians will follow Beck's advice? What does it mean that a conservative is threatened by Christ and the teachings of His church? These are some of the questions that I have rolling around in the back of my mind.

Regardless, there are two points that must be emphasized: First, to be a Christian is to be concerned with the left out and the left behind, the lost and the last. This is an undeniable truth. If you eliminate all of the references to caring for the poor (some 3,000 verses), you'd have a much thinner bible. Furthermore, you can't escape the call in scripture to be passionate about justice. Israel's prophets and Israel's messiah both addressed justice on a regular basis (cf. Amos 5.24; Micah 6.6-8; Luke 4.14-19--Jesus' inaugural sermon).

Secondly, for the church, there is something that takes precedence before the state. We're not called to serve God and empire. Instead we're called to pledge allegiance to Jesus and his way. At times this stance will turn us into both friends and enemies, depending on the situation and context, to the political agendas of our world. We must always remember, we are called to seek first God's kingdom and his justice (Matthew 6--justice is implied in the biblical word righteousness).

On that note, I'm starting to wonder if there isn't something much deeper at stake in this conflict--who or what will ultimately shape our allegiances? More on that later . . .

Peace.

The Cross

I'm finally back after several long, excruciating weeks of wrestling with our little development project. When I started down this path of trying to develop our property it was fun, mostly because it was new and exciting. But three years later, I'm spent. There's little joy left, just a general sense of dread. Of course I'm being a little dramatic but not terribly so. The details and the conflicts have worn me out. Yet, I still sense God is trying to teach me something through it all--that something, however, remains a mystery right now.

Regardless, I'm glad my mind is returning to Christ and his church. It's feels good to let my heart gravitate toward the things that give me joy.

So let's talk about the cross (yes, this does bring me joy). A few weeks ago, I preached a little sermon on the cross in which I asked the question, What is the cross? I defined the cross as the price we pay for obedience to Jesus and his way. The cross is not a bad back, an annoying mother-in-law, a noisy neighbor, a spiritual drought, depression, uncontrollable anxiety or even a bothersome church member. Rather, the cross is something we willingly take up, a sacrifice we make in a broken world, to follow Jesus in obedience.

The easiest way to think about this is to talk about some of our core practices. For instance, if you want to forgive, you must deny yourself and your desire for revenge, absorb much of the pain and free the perpetrator from your grip. This is free for the recipient but costly for the giver. The giver bore a cross in order to be obedient to Jesus and his way. Similarly, if you want to be generous, you must be shaped by a new way of thinking--you must recognize that we are members of one another. But to get there, you will have to deny yourself and the belief that my money is exactly that--my money!--and begin to loosen your grip in order to give. Such an action points to the cross, because you are willingly sacrificing for others.

I could go on and on. You get the point. To follow Jesus, you must take up a cross. As Bonhoeffer states, "A Christianity without the cross is a Christianity without Christ." And I might add, a discipleship without the cross is a discipleship without Christ. The cross stands before us all, calling us to come and die so that we might embrace the way of Jesus, becoming a fragrance of hope and love for a broken world.

Peace.

The Kingdom Revolution

Sunday's sermon created a real sense of dread for me. The challenge was immense--I needed to talk about God's kingdom.

As I pointed out, the Kingdom of God is central to the life and ministry of Jesus. Jesus begins his ministry in Matthew, Mark, and Luke by announcing the nearness of God's reign. Furthermore, his healings and parables point to what the kingdom is like.

Yet, talking about the kingdom is frustrating. Jesus never defined it. He never gave us a working definition. He never preached a three point sermon coupled with a poem to help us out. Instead, and perhaps this is the point, a person had to follow Jesus--watching, listening and learning--to get a sense of what the kingdom is like. In other words, you have to seek it, and then you will find it; you have to be open to it in order to receive it. Jesus implies this in his explanation for why he speaks in parables. Relying upon Isaiah, Jesus says in essence, outsiders won't get it (Mark 4.11-12). You have to seek it to see it, believe in it to find it. You have to become like children.

Therefore, those for whom the present order is a real source of comfort will always have a hard time even hearing a sermon about God's kingdom; it's so irrelevant, they might state, to my own desire and longing to make it in this modern world. Pastor, we want therapy, make God relevant to our life. Such a stance, if it exists, emphasizes greatly the need to repent (change your mind and your orientation in light of the coming kingdom). The call is radical: Make your life relevant to God's rule and reign in Jesus.

That being said, what is the kingdom? Last Sunday, I talked about God's dream for a kingdom characterized by justice, peace and righteousness found in the Old Testament. In the New Testament, along comes Jesus and says, this reign--proclaimed and longed for--has come near in me and those who follow me. The dream is becoming a reality.

But it might be more helpful, upon further reflection, to think about a revolution! The Israelites knew what we often refuse to acknowledge--this present order is not right. It's controlled by violence, greed, an unhealthy freedom from others and responsibility, selfishness, and injustice. What's needed, assuming of course that God cares deeply about his creation (the right assumption; he doesn't merely care about souls and spirits), is a revolution. The prophets dreamed of a revolution, a new government, a new community. Then Jesus comes and says, the revolution has begun. God's desire to reclaim his creation in love has started, pay attention and sign up for this is really good news.

But now we must listen carefully. We need to pay attention. We need to look long and hard. We need to listen with a spiritual attentiveness. This revolution is God's reign of peace. Jesus is creating a community where sin and evil doesn't have to reign. A community where justice prevails, where love rules, even love of enemy. A community that embraces the stranger, the alien, the orphan. A community where forgiveness is what holds us together because we are shaped by grace, generosity and joy in the Spirit, not fear and stinginess. A community where members will lay down their lives for one another, witnessing to the radical truth that Jesus is Lord and that vulnerable love will win!

Let the revolution continue, let it come in us and through us. There is no other hope.

Peace.

For Every Yes, There Must Be A No

Today we kicked off our new series on discipleship. Renouncing was the theme. To be a follower of Christ, we are called to renounce all that keeps us from exclusive loyalty to Him. We see it in many different ways throughout the Gospel of Mark, including the call of the first disciples who left their vocations to follow Jesus (cf. Mark 1).

Granted, Jesus is not here, physically that is, calling us to leave our jobs and homes and follow him. Nonetheless, we still experience the call. And the call is somewhat basic to anything in life--whenever we find a treasure, we turn away from the familiar to embrace the new. When we fall in love, we break off old ties for this new person. When we find a new hobby, we renounce other potential distractions.

Similarly, in light of the good news, we turn away from the old. The old news is the typical narrative of self, sin, violence, and hopelessness--a world caught in a cycle from which it can't liberate itself. The new is what God has done and is doing through Jesus. It is Jesus who can lead us out of this mess to our true home. In light of such wonderful news, we renounce. We renounce the old, the familiar, and the comfortable for the new, the good, and the beautiful.

Worship Forum Reflections

Last Sunday we had a great discussion together in our open forum.

For those of you who missed it, I talked about the importance of worship for the life of a believing community. Then I presented three potential problems in the form of questions that hinder us from coming together in meaningful worship: 1) Does Sunday work anymore? There are more activities on Sunday than ever before, crowding out our commitment to church. 2) Does 10:30 work? Some Sundays begin with about 10-12 people and then end with 85. Do we need to change the time? 3) Does our worship work? Many seem uninterested, choosing to read or talk during the service. Is our worship no longer connecting with you?

After a healthy discussion, it seemed as if the general consensus was that Sunday at 10:30 is not perfect, but it's as good as any other option. Likewise, worship does not meet everyone's expectations (it never will), but for the most part, it's effective. What's needed instead of a sweeping change is to reflect upon our priorities, about what it means to belong to a community dedicated to worshipping God.

So here's the challenge that emerged from the discussion: Let's consider making a concerted effort to arrive at 10:20, to greet others, find our places, and get ready to worship. Here's an easy way to remember it: 10:20 in 2010. I know there will be days when you'll be late; it happens to all of us, including yours truly; and of course, I'd rather have all of you late than not at all. That aside, it would be fun to reverse the current trend and start service 80% full.

Also, I would encourage all of us to think a little bit about what it means to honor the Sabbath. This is complicated, I know. We don't want a legalistic standard, but what messages are we sending to our children if church is what we do when we don't have anything else going on? What is a good reason to miss? There are many different responses to that question. In the meantime, let's keep discussing, thinking, and praying about it.

Peace.

Vacation Questions

Nearly everything I've experienced on vacation has made me think about the church--most of it troubling (I can run on vacation, but I can't hide). First, I've been reading The Poisonwood Bible (a book about a well-meaning but terribly destructive pastor who's stuck in his own stubborn ignorance and therefore never helps anyone, not even his family). Then my wife and I watched Doubt (a movie that forces you to side with either a corrupt priest or a stern pharisaic nun; you must choose which one is right--I think the priest is as guilty as sin, my wife believes the nun is). Finally, I was introduced to the Internet Monk, a blog that sharply criticizes certain elements of Christianity. Although he doesn't say anything I haven't already heard or thought before, his blog caused me to reflect yet again on the destructive tendencies inherent in religious certainty.

These encounters create for me a real sense of angst. I start to ask myself hard questions: What is the point of church? Where do we go wrong? Why do we so often get it wrong? What should church look like? How should we preach and teach? What's the point of everything we do?

The answer to these questions aren't obvious, at least not to me. I don't even want to try and answer them right now, except to say, I am hungry for something I can't quite articulate. I want something that's real, thoughtful, grace-filled, and life-transforming. Something that touches our everyday world with beauty and goodness. I'm tired of sermonizing, even though to my own shame, I've spent too much time doing it. I'm tired of empty promises and simplistic slogans. I want something less than what is often offered and yet something more, something deeper.

I'm still thinking, still searching . . . hoping to find . . . hoping God will lead.

Peace.