Post Easter Relfections

I made it through another Holy Week.  It all started with Palm Sunday, continued with Maundy Thursday which included a darkening of the church, then our outdoor Sunrise Service at 6:30 am and finally our Easter Celebration.

I must admit, I have contracted yet again the post-Easter blues.  Part of the reason for the blues is everything leading up to Easter was intellectually and emotionally taxing:  final approval for our development project, construction drawings, start of the new church year, three days of interviews for ministerial candidates, pastoral reports, and last but not least, Holy Week preparation.  Then it all comes to an end with a sense of emptiness and fatigue.

But the deeper reason, I am find myself infected with the post-Easter blues is the knowledge that I can never give expression to the beauty of the gospel.  My words and our liturgy are ultimately lacking.  They fall short of God's glory and grace.

I'm not suggesting that we necessarily failed, though that might be partially true. We can always learn and do better, but that is not what I mean when I say our words and our liturgy fell short.  What I mean can be stated in two simple sentences:  First, I REALLY believe in the beauty of the gospel.  Second, I never adequately communicate it's beauty.  

Think about:  The Gospel is beautiful.  It is glorious.  God in Christ serving us (John 13), reconciling the world unto himself (2 Corinthians 5:18).  God in Christ assuming human form, suffering the full weight of sin, evil and death (2 Corinthians 5:21).  God in Christ going before us in suffering, death and resurrection (Romans 8:29).  God in Christ in hell to break the power of hell (1 Peter 3).  God in Christ submitting to his own judgement to make things right; after all, forgiveness is not enough, sin must be dealt with (Romans 3:21-26).

Then there is the resurrection which announces that God's kingdom of peace has truly begun (Acts 10).  You see, sin, evil and death could not keep Christ in the grave.  God's intention to heal are greater than the worst that can happen (Romans 8, Revelation 1:5).

Equally amazing is wonderful reality that the gospel makes emotional sense.  It matches our needs perfectly. We are broken, we need to be healed (1 Peter 2:24).  We break others; we need forgiveness and hope for healing for our loved ones.  We long for joy, and the gospel promises joy (Philippians 4).  We want to love, and Christ give us the means to love (1 John 3, John 15).  We believe our love is eternal, and the gospel announces that love is eternal (1 John 4).  We want peace, we need peace; the gospel promises us peace (Romans 5:1-5), even in suffering.

It's so beautiful.  So beautiful that words fail.  On Easter Sunday (and all other Sundays for that matter) we are trying to say the unsayable.  Our words can only point as God draws us to experience the truth firsthand.

The question remains, Did we hear and understand, with our hearts?  . . . Time will tell, time will tell.

Peace

Standing For

“Why do we have to voice opinions on the hot-button issues of the day?  Instead of ‘Where do you stand?’ why aren’t we talking about ‘with whom are you standing?’  Isn’t it the nature of disciples of Jesus, less to be known for a certain opinion about an issue than to be known for whom we are in relationships with.  Show disciples of Jesus a lost cause or an underdog, the sidelined or the undermined, and they become suckers . . . If Jesus fanatics push a hot button, it’s not an issues button so much as it is a relations button.  There is no ducking the ugly duckling for Jesus followers.” (Len Sweet, So Beautiful, p. 118)

One of the more troubling aspects of our current cultural climate is the rampant polarization of nearly everything.  The question has really become, Where do you stand?  And unfortunately there are usually only two positions, diametrically opposed to one another.  The end results of this binary worldview are easy to discern:  lines drawn in the sand, alliances forged, and wars are waged.  Personally, I’m growing a little tired of it all.  It’s difficult to even have a meaningful discussion without getting into spitting matches.

So maybe Len Sweet is on to something here.  Perhaps our focus has been on principles and not people, rules not relationships, standing against and not standing for.  This particular failure is a very subtle trap, especially for Christians who believe in the importance of holiness.

Of course, the issue is not with holiness per se but our definitions of holiness.  Too often, holiness is reduced to personal purity at the expense of neighborly care and justice.  This type of holiness misses the mark.  It leads to pride, which forms Christians into people who are as pure as angels and as mean as demons.

To ensure this doesn’t happen, we must keep three virtues in front us—love, truth and humility.  No three words characterize the spirit of Jesus better than these.

He was love through and through. He was also truth; and he loved with truth to liberate us from sin.  Last but not least, he was humble, pouring out his life even for his enemies.

So if we are growing in the grace and knowledge of Christ, our lives should begin to take on the form of a humble, loving and truthful disposition.  This is our call.

Peace.  

Fear of God and Relational Wholeness

"When people are no longer awed, respectful, or fearful of God's holiness, the community is put at risk."  (Walter Brueggemann)

In 2 Samuel 6, we encounter the strange holiness of God.  A holiness that can't be presumed upon, used or manipulated for one's own agenda.  A holiness so powerful that if it is not respected, trouble ensues.  No doubt, David and Israel learn this truth after the death of Uzzah.

I connect this idea with the notion that the beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord (Proverbs 1:9).  Fearing God creates a foundation for life that leads to a holiness that can be characterized by relational health. Failure to fear God creates a void, a void that leads us down paths of foolishness.

I believe this makes sense.  If God is feared, then communities have a much better chance of being healthy.  The God we serve is the God who commands us to love and serve our neighbors, even if our neighbors are strangers or enemies.

You see, we don't believe in two great commandments that conflict with one another.  We don't believe that we are to love and serve God; and then love and serve our neighbor.  This approach creates problems because we might conclude serving God trumps (no pun intended) serving our neighbor.  Then we will be justified in sacrificing people on some sort of religious principle or agenda.   This is not the Jesus way.

Instead, we believe in a single commandment with two parts that can't separated.  To fear God is to love the other.  To fear God is to pursue mercy.  To fear God is to be fair.  To fear the God who revealed himself in Jesus is to embrace his sacrificial love.  To fear God is to care deeply about the well-being of others.  

As John writes: "This is His commandment, that we believe in the name of His Son Jesus Christ and love one another, just as He commanded us" (1 John 3:23).   Everyone who does not love has missed the mark:  "He who does not love abides in death" (1 John 3:14).   Notice again the tight connection between God and love:  "Beloved, let us love one another, for love is from God; and everyone who loves is born of God and knows God" (1 John 4:7-8).

We can see this at work in our lives.  When we lose our fear of God, we will tend to serve something else.  We might serve money or our own agenda or our image. Then we will sacrifice other people on the alter of our agenda.

However, when we serve God, truly with respect and reverence, we find a different path.  Fear of God frees us to pursue the truth, placing us on a trajectory of personal transformation.  Fear of God gives us the strength to forgive because we understand that our own sins have been forgiven.  With God, we are free to love because the other person doesn't have to be a god for us, therefore we can love without having to control.

So perhaps, this text is a powerful reminder that fear of God must be at the center of our lives.  Without it, we drift.  We move away from what is truly life giving.

Peace.


 

Embracing Uncertanity

Perhaps few things are more dangerous than absolute certainty.  It is tempting to believe that one's opinions are perfect and unassailable.

At best, such a stance keeps us from dialogue.  At worst, it creates enemies of people who think differently.  When this absolute certainty about an opinion is coupled with a belief in God, then one feels righteous in the denigration of the other.  

As Christians, we are called to a humility.  We believe God.  Yet that belief is shrouded in mystery. There is so much we don't know, don't understand.

But this goes to the core of our belief.  We don't hold the universe together.  We don't have to make history turn out right.  This is God's job.  We don't have to defend God, nor do we need to be heard.  We don't have to other people or legislate behavior.  Instead, we can love.  We can embrace hope.  We can walk in faith.

The words of Bono have been echoing in my ears lately:  "I can stand up for hope, faith, love/But while I'm getting over certainty/Stop helping God across the road like a little old lady."  

I'm not entirely sure what these words mean.  Nonetheless, I like them.  They speak to me, reminding me that we can live in hope, faith and love without certainty.  Furthermore, God is in control.  He does not need our help.  We can witness without winning.  

More to come . . .

Peace.

When We Become Our Own Judge

A couple of weeks ago I preached from a very dark passage of scripture, Judges 19-21.  Here are some thoughts that continue to haunt me from that text:  

First, when everyone does what is right in their own eyes the ones who suffer the most are those without power.  The judgement that is repeated near the end of Judges is that everyone is doing what is right in their own eyes.  Then in the last few chapters we see the consequences of this way of life--abuse, neglect and violence, mostly toward women.  The Levite's concubine is raped, then cut into pieces.  Then a town is destroyed and girls are abducted from Shilo to provide virgins for the Benjaminites.  It's those without power who suffer the most when everyone does what is right in their own eyes. 

Second, the lies of the Levite sustain the chaos of the text.  Read it for yourself.  The Levite is less than honest as he recounts what has happened:  He doesn't assume responsibility; after all he is the one who handed his concubine over to be raped.  He claims the leaders of Gibeah are the perpetrators when in reality it was some wicked men.  He also says, they wanted to kill him, which is not true either.  His speech is inflammatory.  It provokes a violent response.  Words matter.  We must take heed.     

Thirdly, Israel is so far gone that even when they try to put things right, they make a mess.  Israel resorts to violence to solve the problem that their own violence has created.  It's as if they can't imagine another way of life.  They use violence to provide wives for the 600 remaining Benjaminite men.  It's a mess.  Even when Israel tries to make things right, they create more chaos.  It's as if they have no other paradigm than that of force, pragmatism and expediency.    

All of this makes me long for Gods kingdom.  This is our hope, the gospel Jesus preached:  "The Kingdom of God has come near, repent and believe the good news" (Mark 1:15).     

Random Thoughts About the Church

I've recently finished a book that confirmed so many of my own thoughts on the church.  It's entitled, Shrink: Faithful Ministry in a Church-Growth Culture by Tim Suttle.   I'll list some of the main ideas the book has reestablished in my heart.  

The church is not called to grow nor to shrink but to be the church.  I heard this line from a professor nearly 20 years ago, and it has stayed with me.  Granted, I always haven't embraced this approach.  I'll admit it: I've been driven by fear to embrace a plan promising church growth.  Nonetheless, I've frequently come back to this central thought.  It has kept me grounded.  

Making growth your goal can be toxic.  Churches committed to nickels and noses can easily fail to be the church.  Sometimes, churches need to slow down and be thoughtful.  Focussing on nickels and noses might make this impossible.  Also, what we are called to embrace as Christians might not result in numerical growth; it might even be detrimental to numerical growth (John 6:66).  I outlined a book several years ago for the fun of it.  The title is an attempt to be funny:  "Your Church isn't Growing?  Blame Jesus."  The point is, Jesus is the hope of the world, but he is also a crucified savior, rejected by those who prefer business as usual.  The Kingdom of God creates both friends and enemies.  Growth should be a concern, yes.  However, I'm not convinced it's a good goal in and of itself.   Being faithful to Jesus' mission is a healthier goal.  

Success-driven churches can easily lose a relational focus.  In the church we have too many agendas that knock us off course.  Jesus says in John 15:8, "In this my father is glorified, that you bear fruit and become my disciples."  The fruit to which Jesus calls us in John 15 is living a life of love.  What if the church stayed committed to this one simple agenda--living in God's love and sharing God's love.  Perhaps fewer people would leave churches; and churches would be much stronger.  You see, the church first and foremost is not about getting my needs met, nor is church about money, carpet or chairs.  Fundamentally, church is about relationships and loving each other the way Jesus loved us.  What if everyone simply wanted to grow in the sacrificial love of Jesus. Nothing else.  What would the church look like?

Pragmatism is an idol in the church.  I resent any seminar or conversation that begins with some story or guarantee on how this new plan will work.  Don't get me wrong, I am interested in whether or not things work.  However, I first want to know is this plan good.  Does it reflect God and his dream for the world?  Is it right and true to Jesus?  Once I've heard the theological rationale, then I'm interested in how one might move forward with this new idea.  We should never embrace something just because it works.  Think about how far that logic will take you.  There are lots of things that will work, but they might not reflect the God we worship.  

Simply put, the church is called to witness to the liberating light and love of Jesus that has come and is coming in his kingdom.  The results are in God's hands.  Some churches will grow, others won't.  Much of it depends upon your soil.  Bottomline, let's learn to be faithful to Christ.  We don't have to win, we just have to be witnesses to the great story that Israel's crucified messiah is the Lord of history.   

Peace.   

The Cross: How to Be Human

I believe the cross reveals, among many other things, what it means to be human.  The cross is not merely some sort of bridge that enables us to have life after death.  It also reveals a distinct way of life affirmed by God.

Remember, the resurrection of Jesus does not cancel the cross but confirms it.  The resurrected Jesus is the crucified savior.  What remains visible on the resurrected Jesus are the scars from ignoble death (Luke 24).  Even at the end of time, we worship the lamb, "looking as if it had been slain" (Rev. 5, NIV).  This slaughtered lamb is the one who controls history; he is the one who can open the scrolls.  The cross is central to who God is, and how he wants us to live as humans.

For example, the cross teaches us that to be human is to repent of sins.  Jesus not only suffered and died for our sins, he resisted sin his entire life, faithfully loving to the very end.  He waged a war against all that is evil while being perfectly faithful to God.  His life serves as a powerful example of our need for forgiveness.  When we look to the cross, we are confronted with the ugliness of our sins--look at what we are capable of.  At the same time, when we look at the cross, we see our need for forgiveness.  Very few things are more dangerous than the belief that we are blameless.  The cross helps us see our need and gives us the freedom, because we are loved and forgiven, to repent.

But there's more:  The cross also reveals that to be human is to pour out our lives for others.  Jesus is the human one, the leader of a new race (Rom. 5).  He shows how to live. The cross is the climax of his sacrificial way of life.  And of course, we too are called to take up our cross in sacrificial ways of living.  To be human then is not to live in constant competition with others, trying to outmaneuver or dominate, but to serve and give.  The human maturity we celebrate is not about autonomy nor about achieving great things at the expense of others.  Rather we celebrate a human maturity characterized by interdependence, agape love, service and compassion.

There is more, but two is enough for now.  The cross calls us to repent from the ways of the world that  reject Jesus.  Part of what this means is that we are called to reject our desire to dominate and control others.  Instead we are called to serve.

The cross reveals what it means to be human.

Peace.