Preston's Thoughts

Da Vinci Silliness

2006-05-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

You know, it seems strange to me all the Christians who are so up in arms about the Da Vinci Code. It's as if no one had ever suggested before that Jesus was not the son of God. I wonder whether the ultra-defensive reaction on the part of the church can be attributed to a lack of true belief on the part of the Christians. After all, if the book and movie had suggested that Jesus was not Jewish, but Chinese, I doubt anyone would care, because we're all fairly certain about Jesus' ethnicity.

But are we all certain about our core belief that Jesus was more than a mere human? Do we feel confident that he was an unprecedented expression of the nature of God? If we did, I'm not sure we'd be having so many sermons, classes, discussions, and lectures explaining why we're right and Dan Brown is wrong. It's almost as if the Christian community is trying to reassure itself by cramming its collective fingers in its ears and yelling "We're right, we're right, we're right!"

It's odd when something or someone threatens our insecurities. We go into fight or flight mode. The whole Da Vinci Code controversy has, in my opinion, exposed some of the church's insecurities. We're terrified that Jesus was not who we've always said he was. And if someone suggests that, it brings our insecurities to the surface, and we fight like mad to shove them back into the subconscious. (Sunday mornings help us do that, I think). Whatever this reaction is, I do not believe it is faith. It may be religion, wishful thinking, or group think, but it is not true faith. I am reminded of the old quote by Marx(?) that religion is the opiate of the masses. It gets people through the night. It appears Marx was right. I am also reminded of Paul's writing that the kingdom of God exists not in words, but in power. As I consider the church's response to the Da Vinci Code, unfortunately I see alot of the former and not enough of the latter.

Our God Reigns?

2006-05-01T13:49:00.000-07:00

Last Wednesday night I had one of my angst-filled moments during the Evening Prayers service. Problem was, I was leading singing. We sang:
Praise God from Whom All Blessings Flow
Praise Him All Creatures Here Below

Then we sang:
All Creatures That On Earth Do Dwell
Sing to the Lord With Cheerful Voice

A group of young guys played guitars and sang:
Our God Reigns
Our God Reigns
Forever Your Kingdom Reigns

While I was singing and observing, I had one of those moments where it all felt like crap. It's easy to sing about all earthly creatures praising a God who reigns when you're sitting on a padded pew in an affulent American church. But how about the people being slaughtered in Darfur? Or the boys being pressed into military service in Uganda? Or the kids on the streets of Nairobi? Should they praise God, from whom all blessings flow? I thought to myself, "What a crock. God reigns? How naive."

Looking back, maybe I was right. From all outward appearances, God is not reigning in Sudan or Kenya or Uganda or downtown.

But then I thought to myself, "How arrogant you are. As if the days in which you live are the only ones in which atrocities have occurred." It didn't seem as though God was reigning when Hitler gassed 6 million Jews, or during the Salem witch trials, or the Crusades, or when Jesus was on the cross, or John's head was being used as a party favor.

Most of the time I believe that God is somehow enjoying His reign. And if it doesn't look that way, it must be because some people and some powers have not accepted it. Thus, the church becomes an agent of God's reign, expressing to the world that His reign is sovereign and good. Tragedies become opportunities for God's people to step up and make God's reign known, much like when Jesus was questioned about the tragedy of the blind man, and he instead viewed it as an opportunity for God to receive glory.

It's interesting to me that in this model, God's reign is to some extent dependant on His people making it known. If we tend toward either pride or despair, God's reign may not be manifest in the tragedy/opportunity. But if we answer the call, we can make the ways of God more clear to a world gone mad.

So Much Work Left To Do

2006-04-24T12:52:00.000-07:00

Many things have been rolling around in my head lately. I will attempt to force them out in this post. For anyone who happens to read this, first let me commit to you the April 21 post and ensuing discussion on Church Growth at Phil Wilson's blog. (www.jphilwilson.blogspot.com). Much of the conversation is a useful backdrop for my comments, though they are not directly related. Also, I thought Tony's comments about resources were particularly insightful.

I fear that the church is not doing a very good job of training disciples. To put it another way, I am afraid that the church is not effectively deploying Christians (little Christs) into the world. Again, I am worried that people in the church are not being transformed into the likeness of Jesus.

Now for some specifics. I've already mentioned in a prior post the hurtful things that a few people said in response to a video that was shown at my church that apparently offended their preferences. Such comments coming from people who wear the name of Christ make me wonder whether the church is training people in how to speak like Jesus.

I am similarly concerned when I hear that a member at my church has expressed some deep reservations about the fact that some individuals in the church are trying to minister to a homosexual, impoverished crack addict. This person seemed to think that the man should not be welcomed until he had been baptized and changed his lifestyle. The member wanted to make sure that our church was doing its part to convict this man of his sin, as though the Spirit of God were not up to the task. When did Jesus ever condition his welcome on someone changing his or her behavior? It seems that repentance came after Jesus' acceptance.

Moving into the global realm, why have Christians become so obsessed with heaven and personal piety that they have lost their voice when it comes to social justice? For example, on Oprah last week, she ran a feature on social classes, the disappearance of the middle class, and the growing gap between the rich and poor. According to her show, 40% of the nation's wealth is held by the richest 1% of the population. That's just in the U.S. Forget about countries in Africa where people live on a dollar a day. Now you may read about that in the paper or see it briefly on the news or even watch it on Oprah, but the one place you won't hear about it is church! In fact, ministers who talk too loudly about social issues can quickly be labeled a "social activist," as if that were a bad thing! Didn't Jesus kick off his ministry with a social justice statement? (Luke 4:18-19). How have we departed so far from our Lord that we won't even mention things that would be important to him, such as the inequity between the rich and poor and the genocide in Darfur? If Old Testament prophets are to be believed, isn't this the kind of injustice that YHWH hates? Yet the family of God is largely mute on the subject.

In class at church yesterday, which you can listen to if you follow the link to Phil's blog, someone asked a question about how our faith should inform our position on the issue of immigration. The teacher responded by considering our theology of communion and the Christian discipline of hospitality. We, like Jesus, should welcome people. The knee-jerk response to not welcome people, the teacher pointed out, is rooted in fear and economic self-interest, two of the weapons of the world that Christians do not trouble ourselves with. We seek power that is compassionate, not power that controls.

So why, in my twenty-nine years, have I not been trained so that when I listened to the debate about immigration, my thoughts would go directly to my theology of communion, my practice of hospitality, and Jesus' teaching about the great banquet where all the street people were welcomed at the rich man's table? I've had ears, but I've failed to hear.

Finally, I've been thinking at great lengths lately about the church's obligation to people who've been convicted of crimes. It's one thing to do traditional prison ministry. But how can we go beyond that and seek to truly redeem these people, restore them, and reconcile them to society? After all, these people don't have supportive families or people on the outside to go to bat for them. Government institutions are ill-equipped to dole out true justice, must less restoration and reconciliation. That takes the ethic of Jesus. But have we been adequately trained as disciples to go about the work of reconciliation among the people that our society would just as soon discard?

Having said all of that, I remain hopeful about the future of the church. It seems many people are beginning to take a more honest look at Jesus and see what he demands of his followers, rather than making excuses and trying to explain away his words and deeds. Rich Mullins sang, "There was so much work left to do, but so much You'd already done."

Final Three Chapters

2006-04-12T08:41:00.000-07:00

In Chapter 19, McLaren considers people who use the Bible, specifically a few of Jesus' mysterious statements and Revelation, to construct a timeline for the future of God's kingdom. However, McLaren is of the opinion, and I think he is right, that Jesus and Revelation are not telling the future or predicting the end of time. Rather, they are warning their audience, much as the Old Testament prophets did, that failure to repent will have devastating results. Both Jesus and Revelation use apolcalyptic language to convey a message to their mostly Jewish audience about the Roman occupation to which they were subject. Jesus rightly predicted that if he audience failed to heed his holy message, they would be destroyed, which they were in A.D. 70, after the Zealots, who refused to repent of their militant agenda, staged a revolt against Rome.
For us, Jesus rightly warns that if we do not repent and receive his teaching as children, we will get more of what human history has already borne witness to: violence, greed, lust, disease, pollution, hatred, division, fear, and pain, i.e., weeping and gnashing of teeth.

In Chapter 20 McLaren talks about life after death. His first point is that for Jews, this would have consisted of a physical resurrection. No disembodied souls here. Second, most of Jesus' language that has been interpreted as referring to heaven, such as harvest talk, probably isn't. He's probably still focusing on the situation at hand, how Israel will deal with Roman oppression.
Never the less, some of the harvest imagery is useful for thinking about one day giving an account, both individually and communally, of the good and evil we have done in our lives. Many who seem to be doing nothing will have born much fruit. Many who seem most righteous will have accomplished little.
Using Paul's writings, McLaren surmises that Christ, who has been raised, will one day destroy all of the power systems that have oppressed and burdened people in this world. But then he will relinquish his power to God, so that life will be free from domination.
Mostly, McLaren seems to believe that, while we can't get at hardly any of the practical ins and outs of what the hereafter will be like, we can trust that God will redeem and cause to flourish all that is good, and he will discard whatever is not useful to him, resulting in a new world. Thus, all the life we've been yearning for and trying to live, the sermon on the mount, will be a reality. The best thing McLaren writes is hidden in one of the notes: "[W]e are invited to begin living now the way everyone will someday live in the resurrection, in the world made new."

In the final chapter, McLaren writes that we see glimpses of the kingdom here and there. We have all probably had experiences where it felt like it was especially close. You can't make it happen; it is a gift. But as you become more familiar with it, you begin to see it in places you would not have expected. We can't make the kingdom come about. But we can pray for it to come, as the Teacher did. And we can strive to make room for it in our lives, so that God may bring it about in us, our churches and families and work and schedules. Nothing in this world will be wasted in God's kingdom. It will be saved and transformed into what God always wanted it to be. This world is becoming and will become the kingdom of God. The first step is for us to realize that there is such a thing, that it is hidden in the teachings of Jesus, that we must rearrange ourselves to be part of it, to seek it and work for it and with it.

McLaren often inspires me. If you've not read anything by him, this would be a good place to start.

Where's the Love?

2006-04-10T07:33:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my preacher talked about the question "who is my neighbor" and the story of the good Samaritan. This came on the heels of an extended discussion I had the day before with my parents regarding that same story. We were talking about a preacher out in Arizona, whose work my parents' church supports financially. This extremely conservative church of christ preacher periodically sends out a publication in which he blasts liberal church of christers, whom he labels change agents. In his opinion, these "change agents" are diverging from the biblical model for the church by having praise teams and/or instruments during their worship, taking communion as part of a meal or on other days besides Sunday, not viewing the New Testament as law, and increasing the role women play in the church.

For obvious reasons, I feel angry toward this preacher. But I also feel very sad for him. It seems he has completely missed out on the good news. Though his knowledge of scripture is impressive, his understanding is miniscule. And remember, he is not condemning atheists or Hindus or Muslims or Buddhists. That would be bad enough. And he is not judging Baptists or Catholics or Methodists, though that would be reprehensible. He is focusing on bashing those within his tiny little group who have the same name on their church sign as he does.

So the next day, my preacher talks about the good Samaritan. Though there were things I wish he had fleshed out a bit, such as how shocking, radical, offensive, and unthinkable it was for Jesus to make a Samaritan - a half-breed, compromiser who worshiped wrong and had no hope of resurrection - the hero of his story, my preacher nailed one point. Jesus was asked by a lawyer, "Who is my neighbor?" But after telling the story, Jesus twisted the question into "Which one acted as a neighbor?" The distinction makes all the difference. Instead of focusing on the status of others, whether they constitute a neighbor, we must focus on ourselves, are we being a neighbor.

The preacher in Arizona is no neighbor, it seems to me. He would rather hate than love, condemn than bless, tear down than build up. His words are poison, divisive and exclusive. But it isn't just conservative preachers who suffer from this perversion of the Christian faith. Recently, a number of people at my large, progressive church got upset to the point of name-calling over a video that was shown prior to a worship service. It featured music, the style and volume of which did not suit their liking. Because their preferences were offended, they spoke mean-spirited words.

Folks, whatever we're doing here, it is not following Jesus. How can we die to self if we can't even die to our preferences? How can we love an enemy if we can't love a brother in Christ? How can we turn the other cheek when we've already got our fists up, ready to strike a blow? How can we experience the freedom and life of the gospel when we'd just as soon have (or impose) judgment and law? How can we present an authentic expression of the life-giving gospel to the world when we are filled with as much division, anger, and pettiness as a political faction?

The challenge for me is not diagnosing the speck in my brother's eye. My problem is ignoring the plank in my own. Whom am I hating and condemning without even knowing it? Most likely the conservative preacher in Arizona. Where's the love?

By the way, I finished the McLaren book. My final review is forthcoming. I've probably read the book two or three times now as I have contemplated what I think he is saying and what I wanted to say about each chapter. Sorry it's taken so long.

Just Terrible

2006-04-06T07:32:00.000-07:00

I saw a church sign that read,
"Though trouble may drive you to prayer, prayer will drive away trouble."

16-18

2006-03-28T14:10:00.000-08:00

In Chapter 16, Brian McLaren (BM, ha!) talks about the language that Jesus used to talk about his whole thing, "the kingdom of God." That meant something to his contemporaries, but not so much to us. So McLaren suggests some new language, such as the dream of God, revolution of God, party of God. I like the dream of God best. It kind of captures the idea of God having a will, or a plan, for each of us and all of creation. What we see now is not what he dreamed of, but if we align our dreams with his, we can learn to live the way he always dreamed we would.

Chapter 17 was very relevant and important for me. It is entitled "The Peaceable Kingdom." In it, BM talks about pacifism. I'm also reading the war section of Jim Wallis' "God's Politics," and the two jived well. Christians don't resort to violence. That is what the cross is about, "a radical repudiation of the use of violent force." We will suffer and endure, but we will not be violent.

Well, until Constantine and Rome started taking care of us instead of burning us alive. We're still thriving in America, the new Rome, and we still like it that America's bombs are protecting our right to worship the Prince of Peace. This is unacceptable.

God's dream for the world is peace, and it's got to start with us. Jesus told us to love our enemies and turn the other cheek. We're either going to follow him or we aren't. After all these years of trying war and seeing that it doesn't work, aren't we ready to give something else a try?

In Chapter 18, BM compared Jesus' overall very inclusive message with a few of his very exclusive-sounding teachings. BM concludes that the only people that are excluded from the kingdom of God are those people who are not on board with its radically-inclusive agenda. "[I]f you start expanding the borders and working for a God-centered inclusive and reconciling network of relationships, you will quickly find that there are plenty of people willing to insult you, imprison you, torture you, and kill you." Thus, the kingdom is not for exclusive people who wish to draw lines, form in-groups and out-groups, judge others, and not be full of grace, mercy, love and compassion.

14-15

2006-03-21T09:04:00.000-08:00

Wow. Either people are tired of my rants in general, they're tired of my synopses of McLaren's latest book, or they're tired of my general neglect of this little blog. Oh well, it's my little place to deposit my thoughts. If I've run everyone off, the blog is still serving its purpose.

In Chapters 14 and 15, McLaren takes a fleeting look at the sermon on the mount. In this section of teaching, Jesus shows his listeners what life in God's realm looks like. The main point for McLaren is that Jesus is calling his followers to a level of righteous, moral living that goes above and beyond mere external conformity to a set of rules and making sure you don't do things that are "wrong." Rather, Jesus is proposing that his followers must be changed. Rather than not committing adultery, for example, they must be changed so that lust no longer takes root in their hearts. If living for God were merely a matter of external conformity, you could just cut off your hands and pluck out your eyes so that you were no longer capable of doing bad things. But the idea that righteousness consists of not doing the wrong thing simply misses Jesus' bigger point.

McLaren keeps this up in chapter 15. He looks at Jesus's teaching about giving to the poor, prayer, and fasting, all of which should be done quietly and nto as an external show. Then he moves to not storing up treasure on earth, to being unable to serve God and money. This may be where the kingdom of God most directly conflicts with the kingdoms of this world. Money enslaves us, whether you have lots of it or you don't. We must be freed from that if we are to experience true transformation.

I think that the hippies of the 60s illustrate well the power of money. How did these dope-smoking, free-loving, tie-dyed-wearing, peace-embracing people go from living in vans and rolling in the mud at Woodstock to becoming the most materialistic generation of history. Think about it. It's the children of the 60s who are living in the huge houses, driving huge SUVs, voting Republican, and slaving away in giant corporations. I wish someone would write a book on how the hippies became the yuppies of the 80s. I think that when faced with their ideals versus their earning potential, they chose to go for the gusto. Of course, I am painting with broad strokes, but it is worth contemplating, for example, how these people, so in touch with nature, have now participated more than any generation before them in the pollution of the environment.

Chapter 13 and an Aside

2006-03-07T11:15:00.000-08:00

Chapter 13 was curious to me. It constitutes McLaren's version of Walter Scott's (was that his name?) five steps to salvation. (There were actually six, but five works better with our fingers. They were hear, believe, repent, confess, and be baptized).

McLaren poses five "monvements" that a person would make in response to Jesus' message. First, you repent. You acknowledge that the direction you were heading in was wrong. Your life agenda, your values, your approach to relationships, business, money, whatever, it was wrong. You abandon whatever it was you were pursuing and instead follow Jesus. This is a lifelong step because you can always get it wrong again.

As you trust yourself less, you move to part two, belief in Jesus. You trust in him like you do your spouse. This trust gives you the ability to act as Jesus did. Third, you receive things from God, such as the salvation of your life and soul. You receive the fruits of the Spirit. You receive everything you need to live a kingdom life. Next, you go public with your faith by being baptized. Then you live it out. You practice the teachings of Christ.

This chapter frankly rubbed me the wrong way. It's not that I disagreed with McLaren on any major point. I was just raised with the five steps of salvation in my head. They were a formula you had to follow (and perfectly understand) if you didn't want to burn. I think now I'm just really turned off by breaking faith matters down into formulas, whether for good or ill. Here's the thing. I think that trying to reduce it all down to some kind, any kind of formula, makes about as much sense as trying to explain the steps to falling in love. (I stole that analogy from Donald Miller). It happens different ways for different people. Sure, there are common elements: talking alot, opening up, laughing, kissing, going public by "going together" then getting married. But to try to reduce it to any kind of formula misses the point, in my mind. Yes, if someone is compelled by Jesus they will do certain things, but I hate that the church as I have known it has appraoched these graces like a checklist, ticking off items one by one.

Now for my aside. I've been thinking alot about Jesus' teaching that we must be born again, which McLaren alludes to in chapter 6. He points out that children, like my 20-month old daughter, are largely ignorant, needing to be taught. They realize this, and embrace their dependence by asking scores of questions. They are eager to learn, and they trustingly accept our answers. I think this is in part what Jesus meant when he told Nicodemus that he needed to be born again. Nicodemus was a learned man. He knew the answers. But he needed to discard all of that and know nothing, be eager to learn, so that Jesus could teach him about real life.

My thought is this. We in the church have not been like children. Neither have many of us been born again, no matter how or when you were baptized or how often you've said the sinner's prayer. Jesus' words here are so relevant. Many modern Christians have embraced what Dallas Willard calls the "gospel of sin management," which reduces them to "vampire Christians" who want Jesus for his blood so that they can go to heaven, but for little else. They have not received the good news that the kingdom of God is at hand.

We need to forget everything we thought we knew about life as Christians and be born again, ignorant, like children, hungry for knowledge, willing to accept his teaching. Just accepting Jesus as Savior doesn't bring abundant life. Abundant life consists of peace, joy, love. For those things, we have to accept Jesus as Lord, as Master and Teacher. Then we can learn from him about how to forgive people. How to let go of our fear about the future. How to let go of the materialism and jealousy that make us leave our families to make tons of money to buy things we don't need that will leave us feeling unfulfilled every damn time. How to be freed from lust. How to say goodbye to a religion that oppresses us with burdens and guilt and legalism and doctrinal debates that Jesus never wanted us to bear. How to stop judging other people in order to justify ourselves. How to let go of the anger we feel toward ourselves because we aren't what we want to be, but that we direct at other people like store clerks and family members. How to let go of our self-interest and live for God alone, with life after death as merely an afterthought.

To learn those things, we need a Master to teach us the art of living. Getting forgiveness of sins is great. But to learn from the author of life how to have a life marked by love, peace, joy, contentment, generosity, and mercy, and to get our identity from nothing and no one but Him, that is better.

9-12

2006-02-27T13:44:00.000-08:00

Chapter nine is about the method that Jesus used to take his message to the world. He, the Master, took on twelve apprentices to train in the ways of the kingdom of God. They lived with him, ate with him, talked with him, listened to him, and watched him live out the sermon on the mount lifestyle. Through their experiences with Jesus, both during his life and after his resurrection, his students became masters themselves. Peter and John and James and Paul trained others, and the cycle continued. This is what a community of believers should be about. Much like the Star Wars movies where each Jedi Master trains a Padawan to become a Jedi, we should be learning from each other, training to be masters ourselves, always looking to our one Master. When we are fully trained, we will be like him. If this system breaks down, if we forget what the Master taught, the whole world suffers.

McLaren continues this thought in chapter 10, writing that we are all agents of the kingdom, no matter our job or education or station in life. Our job is to walk the way Jesus did, bringing his values to whatever situation we find ourselves in. It is not merely a matter of adhering to the correct doctrine or system of beliefs. Again, if we stop living it and inspiring others to live in this new way, we betray our Master.

In chapter 11, McLaren considers Paul. In some circles, Paul is viewed as deviation from the message of Jesus. However, McLaren proposes that Paul is taking the kingdom message of Jesus into new areas, namely the Gentile world. Paul grapples with the nuts and bolts of how Jesus' radical message of inclusion and reconciliation plays out in the Roman world.

McLaren says in chapter 12 that Paul does this in part by hijacking language that was used about Caesar (Caesar is Lord) and applying it to Jesus. Paul is proclaiming that a new kingdom exists where there is no Jew or Greek and peace comes not through violence, but suffering and sacrifice. In Paul's world, the kingdom was coming in the transformed lives of his audiences in Corinth and Rome and Ephesus.

This thought really struck me. The kingdom of God is hidden in the changed lives of people. I see this in my work in the prison. In this dark place full of criminals, there is a group of people learning to love and give and forgive and share and be peacemakers. They sing songs and pray prayers and testify to God's goodness, even in a bad place that most of us would never dare enter. For them, Jesus is truly Lord. That is what the kingdom of God is like.

Been a While

2006-02-24T09:24:00.000-08:00

Work's been busy, family's been sick. But I'm still reading. Another blog on the McLaren book coming soon.

6-8

2006-02-09T11:08:00.000-08:00

The book is picking up a little speed now. Chapter 6 is devoted to Jesus' almost exclusive use of parables when he speaks of the kingdom of God. McLaren's question is why. He indicates that the parables often involve something hidden being revealed. He draws the conclusion that the truth of God's kingdom, the way of love, peace, and justice, the new order of creation, is too precious to be conveyed in concrete statements or formulas. Its meaning is so deep and rich, that it requires us to hear at a deeper level than that to which we are accustomed. We don't just walk away from the parables like we would a simple math equation. The richness of the parables continue to draw us back, pulling us into a relationship (I hate that word) with God, allowing him to continue his work in us as we are ready. We must approach the parables fresh, humble, with excitement, like children, as they we were just born, to hear the truth of Jesus' words, a truth that runs counter to the ways of this world.

In chapter 7, McLaren analyzes Jesus' miracles as visible demonstrations of the kingdom. They demonstrated God's presence and activity in the world, his care and concern and passion to redeem all things that need redemption. Jesus' miracles break down all our ideas about what is possible and not possible, causing us to question the wall that we like to think separates the spiritual world from the physical one. The miracles also show us the nature of the kingdom - calming, healing, springing from faith, and pointing to this new reality of kindness, compassion, peace, blessings for poor, all of which demonstrates that God is working his will through Jesus. I thought this was a good chapter.

I thought chapter 8 was better. Here, McLaren uses Jesus' miracles of casting out demons as a symbol of how Jesus drew evil and corruption out into the light where it could be seen for what it was. He antagonized the religious leaders to show their true character of hypocrisy, self-righteousness, and hate. He exposed the Roman machine as a brutal, inhumane political system based on violence and fear. Interestingly, Jesus was crushed by these two forces. McLaren says that that is the nature of God's kingdom. When faced with evil, evil crushes it. But that is not the end of the story, as we know. In people such as Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King, Jr., we see that although evil may appear to win the day over peace, love, and justice, God's kingdom, in its apparent weakness, rolls mightily along. By being crushed, God's kingdom of love brings to light how horrible the dark powers of hate and violence are. That' McLaren and Paul say, is the weakness and foolishness of God, and I would say is one of the main theological points of the crucifixion, which gets lost in all the talk of atonement.

My question is, in the face of evil, violence, hate, and oppression, would I be allow myself to be crushed as Jesus did, trusting in the subversive wisdom of his kingdom of love and peace? Or would I seek to save my life, lest I have to bear my cross?

Next Two

2006-02-02T14:35:00.000-08:00

In chapter four, McLaren discusses the revolutionary nature of Jesus' message. Jesus follows a long line of Jewish prophets whose message to Israel was always revolutionary. The notion of a peaceful, loving kingdom where enemies are prayed for, poor people are favored, and cheeks are turned sounds as strange today as it did then. No wonder people try to privatize this crazy political message!

What is really crazy is what people have done for millenia: thinking that violence will bring an end to violence, killing killers will stop the killing, etc.

The fifth chapter merely gives examples of the cryptic way in which Jesus spoke about the kingdom. It's like one whole chapter devoted to: "I wonder why he did it this way."

This first section has felt like a long introduction. I'm anxious to get to the heart of the matter.

First Three Chapters

2006-01-27T08:30:00.000-08:00

The first chapter of the Secret Message of Jesus is largely a continuation of the intro. McLaren basically asks, "What if the picture of Jesus that churches have is at best incomplete and at worst inaccurate?" More importantly, McLaren asks whether Jesus' true message may be for more than people who ascribe to the Christian religion. After all, Buddhists regard Jesus as having been very enlightened, Muslims think he was a great prophet, and he was as a matter of fact a Jew, not an evangelical.

The second and third chapters discuss the content and context of Jesus' message. First, the message was political, in that it was largely concerned with relationships, how people exist in community, how you treat your neighbor. Second, the message was Jewish, in that Jesus echoed many of the Old Testament prophets such as Isaiah and Amos who proclaimed God's will for people to take care of each other, to be pure in heart and not just action, etc. This is where McLaren got me thinking.

McLaren juxtaposes Jesus' political Jewish message against the political message of other Jews of his day, particularly the Pharisees, Herodians, Zealots, and Essenes. The Pharisees thought that the key to ending Roman oppression of Israel was getting it right: abiding by the law of Moses. Herodians were compromisers. They just kind of knuckled under and cozied up to their oppressors in an attempt to make the best of the situation. Zealots wanted to overthrow Rome with violent rebellions, and the Essenes just threw up their hands and withdrew into the wilderness.

Given all of that, I was struck by how similar modern American Christians are to the Herodians. Of course we're Pharisaical as well, in that we want the world to abide by our rules of morality lest they be tossed into hell. But I've never thought much about how well church people compromise with the powers that be the way that Herod and other similarly situated Jews did with Rome.

Christians cuddle up next to the Republican party and enjoy their status as one of the largest special-interest groups in the nation. Far from being a prophetic voice against greed and violence, we live in bigger houses, drive bigger cars, work longer hours, and support a President that has been waging war and torturing people for what, five years now?

McLaren writes that Jesus' message that the kingdom of God - the new way of ordering society - was at hand and available. But that word was hard for a first-century Jew to believe. How could the kingdom be at hand when Rome is still so powerful? Thus, the Herodians thought that the coming of God's kingdom was so far away that Jesus message was practically impossible, so they may as well be comfortable in the meantime.

How many Christians have I heard say that it is practically impossible to live as Jesus taught? Turn the other cheek? Practically impossible. So I'll support war. Give away all you own? Practically impossible. So I'll hoard all the stuff I can. Blessed be the _____? Practically impossible. So I'll do the opposite. The compromising goes on and on, just as the Herodians did. As long as Christians are in bed with the worldly powers, whether they be Republican, Democrat, greed, rape of the environment, whatever, Jesus' true message will threaten the church's position of comfort and influence and will therefore be marginalized.

Book Report

2006-01-20T11:17:00.000-08:00

Thanks to my good (and well-connected) friend Phil, and another old friend named Sunny, I was able to get my hands on an advanced copy of Brian McLaren's new book, "The Secret Message of Jesus." If you've read much of my blog, you know that I like most of what McLaren has to say, though I do find myself having to slog through the last half of "A Generous Orthodoxy." So I am glad to have a free copy of the book. All I have to do in exchange is blog about it, which I will gladly be doing for a while.

Since McLaren begins the book with an intro, I will follow suit. He introduces the book by writing that he has had a nagging feeling for a while that the Jesus he has encountered in religious institutions may not be all there is to Jesus. Perhaps there is a more complete and compelling view of Jesus to be had. It is this Jesus, and his secret message, that McLaren is pursuing. McLaren reasons that it is this Jesus, and the orthodox church's perversion of him, that has lead people to say they are spiritual but not religious, interested in Jesus but not church. McLaren proposes that the true Jesus is more radical and subversive (and demanding?) than we Christians have been lead to believe.

These thoughts are of course compelling to me. As I have written earlier, I think the Jesus we have accepted -- the American Jesus, the Don't-Worry-Be-Happy Jesus, the Living-Your-Best-Life-Now Jesus, the flannelboard Jesus -- is an imposter. I think Jesus was at all times loving, full of compassion and mercy, and Godly. But at times he was mean, sarcastic, weird, unorthodox, aggressive, demanding, and intimidating. We may not want our kids hanging out with him. I have written elsewhere that like water smoothing over a rough stone, the church has smoothed over Jesus' difficult teachings and character traits that we find unseemly in our precious Lord. We have accepted him as our Savior, giving us a ticket into heaven, but not as our Lord, commanding us to shoulder our crosses and die to ourselves right now.

Hopefully McLaren will give us a clearer picture of Jesus and his message as they actually were.

Something Else I Saw

2006-01-12T09:15:00.000-08:00

I watched the ABC special on "Heaven - Where Is It, Who's Going There, Why Are They Going There, and What About Those Other People?" They interviewed several people of several different faiths.

The Christian they interviewed was a big wig evangelical with whom I'm not familiar. When asked about how people get to heaven, he gave the typical "Accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior" response. Fine.

What was interesting was the answer the Dalai Lama gave. He talked about kindness, compassion, and generosity. Although his concept of heaven seems a bit weird to me, (reincarnation until you achieve perfect enlightenment), his means of experiencing heaven by basically being a loving person was attractive to me.

Furthermore, Richard Gere, America's token celebrity Buddhist, said that he was much more interested in talking about life before death than life after death. When asked what his purpose was, he responded, "I'm here to serve." When asked about heaven, he said that when he sees someone sharing, loving, etc., he sees heaven. When he sees someone living selfishly, hating, etc., he sees hell.

Am I the only one that finds the musings of the Buddhists more compelling than that of the evangelical? Does anyone see the Buddhists' thoughts on heaven as more in line with Jesus' teachings than those of their Christian counterpart?

I'm not necessarily knocking all the Jesus as personal Savior lingo, but in my opinion it has lead to people like Beyonce and Jessica Simpson thanking Jesus for their salvation and success, while at the same time they profit from the deadly sin of lust by wearing revealing outfits and singing suggestive lyrics. It has lead to the mentality that we can enjoy a personal relationship with Jesus while we torture and blow up our enemies. We can love Jesus and rape our planet of its resources, creating an environmental nightmare. We can rejoice in accepting Jesus while we greedily hoard as much stuff as we can to ourselves, thereby necessitating bigger houses (barns).

By the way, my hypocrisy is not lost on me, as I enjoy looking at both Beyonce and Jessica, I enjoy living in a somewhat free country, I drive myself to work every day, burning up God knows how much Fossil fuel, and I have a seemingly insatiable desire to possess stuff.

Is All This Necessary?

2006-01-09T08:10:00.000-08:00

A while back, when Narnia first came out, I watched a news blurb about Christians and pop culture. First they talked about the movies that our congregations encourage us to see, such as Narnia and the Passion. Then they springboarded into a larger discussion of Christians and pop culture. They noted what a large demographic Christians, mostly evangelicals, are, and how Christians have their own version of almost everything.

For example, they spent time talking about the Christian music industry, the Christian book stores, the Christian nightclubs, and last but not least, the Christian skateboard parks. As I watched and as I have considered this in the subsequent weeks, I have had three thoughts.

First, if I were an atheist or an agnostic watching all this about Christian this and Christian that, it would reinforce my belief that Christians are psychos who are afraid of culture outside the church.

Second, doesn't all the Christian stuff seem a bit too accommodating to our consumerist culture? I mean, a lot of people are pocketing the almighty American dollar by selling Christians this stuff. Somehow people making scads of money by peddling religious goods (books, CDs, cross-shaped skateboards) and services (concerts, worship gatherings) makes me a bit uneasy.

Third, and most importantly, how are Christians to engage their culture when they have effectively walled themselves off from it by having their own music, books, stores, coffee houses, concerts, chat rooms, and God love 'em, skateboard parks?

Bad News

2006-01-03T12:00:00.000-08:00

I learned something that left me profoundly disappointed on Christmas Eve. The church that a few of my family members attends is a conservative church of Christ. A friend of my family, who is probably in his late thirties, also goes there. I'll refer to him as Jack. For whatever reason, the song leader of this congregation confided in Jack and informed him that he has struggled with homosexuality. Jack promptly told the elders and sought to ensure that the song leader no longer took part in the worship service. It seems that Jack has mounted something of a crusade to expel the song leader from the church.

I have so much to say about this that I barely know where to begin. As I have thought on this for a while, it has dawned on me that Jack's behavior is indicative of a problem that has run rampant in the Lord's church. We have Jesus' message backwards.

Jack wants the song leader to get right before he is accepted into the faith community. Jesus, on the other hand, accepted people before they were right. He ate with sinners, prostitutes, tax collectors and the like. He welcomed them before they were right or holy. While we were still sinners, he died for us.

We, however, want people to get right or attain our standards of holiness before we welcome and accept them into our churches. It strikes me that that formula is not good news, and it does not jive with the gospel. In order to be faithful to the example of Jesus, we must accept people and welcome them first, despite their lack of holiness, rightness, morality, whatever.

I know the argument in favor of preserving the sanctity of the church. "If we accept them, we're condoning their sin. We have to think about holiness." This argument sounds good enough, but I wonder whether its proponents have ever considered it in light of the charges that the religious establishment leveled at Jesus. To them, he was not holy enough. He violated the Sabbath laws. His disciples didn't fast. They didn't adhere to the washing rituals. As noted above, he kept company with the unholy members of society.

I believe that Jesus was holy, but only in the way that God defines holiness. (Loving God, loving neighbor, compassion, forgiveness, humility, peaceful). He was not holy by human standards. Hence, he was indicted by the Pharisees. It seems to me that if we are loving people the way Jesus did, offering fellowship to sinners, we can expect people to accuse us of being unholy. And that's okay.

After hearing about the unloving treatment that the song leader had received courtesy of Jack, I watched Ellen Degenerous' comedy routine. It was funny, but her message was very much in line with Jesus' teaching about not worrying, not making yourself too busy, making the most of your time by loving people. It dawned on me that Ellen would not be welcome to perform her routine at the Christian college where I received my degree because she is a homosexual. She can perform at any club in the country, but we don't want her or that song leader in our Christian circles. Therefore, I can safely say that the world is more accepting of people that the church of Jesus. This is backwards from the way it should be, and it is not gospel.

An Apology and an Indictment

2005-12-19T07:37:00.000-08:00

I reread my last post, and maybe my often anonymous critics were right. After all, I have a critical streak that can border on nasty at times. So, I apologize for calling Osteen an idiot.

However, I wonder whether the push back is born from the popular idea that Christians are supposed to be nice. In fact, many people seem to hold that nice-ness is of the utmost importance for Christians, and if you say something that is not nice, it follows that you aren't a good Christian.

For example, one of the comments to my last post indicates that the commenter believed that Jesus was more tolerant than I. While that may be so, I think that calling Jesus tolerant is something of a mischaracterization. He was not tolerant of Peter's idea of what a Messiah should look like, so he labeled him "Satan." He called a Samaritan woman a dog. (Anything but a cuddly family pet back then). He called the Pharisees- who in my opinion, like preachers like Osteen, are peddling something less than true YHWH worship - "children of the devil." Not very nice or tolerant.

My point is that we have this idea in our heads that Christians should be nice because we think Jesus was nice, but he really wasn't. Need more proof? Jesus was often very impatient with his followers, wondering how long he should put up with them. Jesus used some salty language when talking about the tree in the garden that produced no fruit. (He didn't say "manure"). But more than that, Jesus went looking for a fight. He confronted and condemned the religious establishment at every opportunity. He disregarded their irrelevant rules about keeping the Sabbath, not because he had to, but because he wanted to. He loved making people squirm. He tore the temple apart, and no one dared stop him. He scared the Roman soldiers who came to arrest him. This is no Jesus meek and mild. This is not fairest Lord Jesus. This Jesus is not craddling a little lamb in his arms with a peaceful expression on his face and a far away look in his eyes. Jesus was a badass.

And being a Christian is not about being nice and talking nice and not drinking or smoking. Its about following this badass Jesus who went looking for a fight and didn't stop until people killed him. It's about buying into the revolutionary way of living that he instituted where you give up yourself for the sake of the poor, the oppressed, the disregarded. It's about fighting racism and chauvinism and materialism and greed and lust and violence and selfishness and injustice and poverty and rape of the environment. It's about the unity of the human family and peace. It's about a revolution in the way people think and live and treat each other. And when we see someone preaching that it isn't about these things, that rather it's about patriotism or being blessed materially or grabbing the gusto or living a problem-free life of selfish ambition or just feeling good about yourself or going to heaven when you die, we turn over tables and tell people that that is most certainly not the kingdom of God.

Talking Again (about Joel Osteen)

2005-12-13T07:17:00.000-08:00

Well, that didn't last very long. I do hope to cultivate more of a spirit of silence, even when I am speaking. That sounds paradoxical, but after reading a bit of Mr. Nouwen, I am convinced that it is possible, even essential, to the contemplative life to which I aspire.

So there I was, watching Joel Osteen preach on TV. This guy wears me out. He's got a book called "Living Your Best Life Now." If ever anyone missed the point, this guy did. He seems to think that the crux of the Christian life is being the best you that you can be. In my opinion, he's an idiot. But boy is he popular.

But the thing I heard him say three or so days ago takes the cake. He was talking, as is his custom, about having a positive attitude and other assorted pop-psychology crap, when he said, "The biggest problem for the children of Israel was that they had a victim mentality." You have got to be kidding me, Joel. It was a victim mentality? Not idol worship, not disregarding the oppressed? Israel's problem wasn't an elitist mindset that made them believe God actually liked them better, as opposed to God blessing them in order for them to bless the world? Nope. Joel thinks that the biggest problem was the victim mentality. So we should learn from their mistakes, not have a victim mentality, and live our best life now.

Hopefully no further commentary on this is necessary.

In Need of Silence

2005-12-01T11:41:00.000-08:00

Something that has been haunting me for the past few days is the knowledge that I don't want to actually live my life according to the teachings of Jesus. Rather, I am merely enamored with the idea of being a Christian. I see people like Rich Mullins, and I like the idea, but I don't really want to do it. I would like to be like Mother Teresa, but I don't really want to hang out with poor folks. I like wearing a white wristband so that I can identify with Bono, but I like my money to stay in my pocket. I spend crazy time thinking about DVDs and XBox games and high definition TVs with surround sound and clothes and cars and shit that I just don't need. Not to mention lusting after women on TV and in magazines. It's embarrassing, really. And deep down and really don't want to give any of it up.

Not only all that, but I'm a hypocrite. I'd like for people to think that I'm down with Jesus and Bono and Rich and Teresa. After all, I've got this cool wristband. But it's all crap. Virtually everything I do or say is designed to make people think of me in a certain way. I read cool books and think cool thoughts and allign myself with cool people, looking I suppose for validation. It's enough to make me throw up.

Luckily, I've been reading a very short, simple book by Henry Nouwen, and he strongly recommends silence. So I'm going to try some of that.

Rethinking Atonement Theology

2005-11-23T08:31:00.000-08:00

I just read the Gospel of Thomas and the Gospel of Mary Magdalene and commentaries on each. As a result, I am more convinced than ever that we in the Christian world have barely scratched the surface of what Jesus was all about. I am also convinced that the Bible is a human product, though I love it a great deal and hold it in such high esteem.

But the thought that I have been unable to shake after reading these two gnostic works is that we are obsessed with atonement theology. In fact, I took atonement for granted growing up. It was understood that this was the point of Jesus' life. Now I'm not so sure. I still think that it is a window for understanding Jesus, particularly his death, but it is only one window. And you can never see the whole sky by looking out one window.

I have more questions than answers, which I'm okay with. Taking the emphasis off of the atoning value of Jesus' death leaves a pretty big theological hole, but neither Thomas nor Mary mention Jesus' death in their respective gospels. Instead, they focus on his teaching. If we think about it, his teaching is the point of all the synoptics as well. They devote a relatively small amount of space to his death account, and they offer no explanation for its meaning. For that we must go to Hebrews or Paul or Peter. Could it be that Jesus' teaching, more so than his death, is the source of eternal life? Should such a notion be offensive to those who call themselves disciples?

Two Thoughts

2005-11-17T14:57:00.000-08:00

1. You know, people are always watching us. They watch what we do; they pay attention to what we say. In fact, I think that people, both believers and nonbelievers alike, are watching us to see whether the Story is true. If they see me pursuing a personal agenda or acting selfishly or speaking harshly; if they witness me withhold mercy and compassion and understanding and sensitivity, then how are they supposed to believe that the Story is valid? When a person who claims to be a little Christ (Christian) but does not behave like Christ, it calls into question whether there really is a Holy Spirit working to transform us into the image of the divine.

2. When we encounter people who are not like us, there is a temptation to try and fix them. We may try to fix their politics or their world view or their faith. When we encounter a liberal, do we try to fix him so that she is conservative, or vice versa? This tendency does not strike me as loving. For example, if I encounter someone who is struggling with a faith issue, or even rejecting the notion of a God, I do not think that it is my job to coddle them and patronize them and try to assure them that all is well. Rather, I think that it is up to me to listen and love.

Here's the rub, as far as I can tell. When I am confronted with someone who sees things different from me, the pull that I experience to "fix" them is not born out of genuine concern, but rather out of a desire to make them like me. Say that the issue is whether Adam and Eve were real people. If I'm trying to manhandle someone into believing that they were not real, I am doing that selfishly, to validate my own view. This is inherently selfish. I'm wanting them to share my view so that I can feel secure. As long as the other person sees it differently, that causes me conflict, which I do not enjoy, so I will try to resolve the conflict by changing their minds. And I can do it all under the guise of "concern." Lord knows we see this in the blogosphere.

My point is, I should resist the tendency to try to fix people or change their minds, even if they follow Buddha or won't eat meat or whatever. Christians, as a friend of mine said it, should be like members of a spiritual AA. We're there to listen and love and support and encourage and accept, but not to fix each other. Hell, we can't fix ourselves, so what makes us think we can fix others?

Old Song, New Words

2005-11-14T11:52:00.000-08:00

These are the Days of Indulgence
Of selfishness, apathy, and greed
And these are the days of indifference
Ignoring the millions in need

And though these are days of prosperity
We have more than we'll ever need
Still children in Africa and downtown are hungry
If we love Jesus, His sheep we must feed

Chorus:
Behold He comes
Homeless like before
Eating with addicts
Hanging out with whores
Give away your stuff
It's the year of Jubilee
If we die to ourselves
Salvation comes

These are the days of great comfort
And living in rich neighborhoods
We kneel to the idols placed before us
Like any American would

And though Jesus warned us of riches
We don't think He meant what he said
So rich people put fish on the backs of their cars
But He had no place to lay His head

(Repeat chorus)

I drove up in my Lexus (x 4)
There's no car like my Bimmer (x 4)
There's no watch like my Rolex (x 4)
I hope it tells time in heaven (x 4)

(Repeat chorus, with a kick line)

Confessing

2005-11-08T13:34:00.000-08:00

On Sunday morning we looked at Nehemiah 8 and 9. Upon returning from exile, Ezra reads the law to the people. At the beginning of chapter 9, the people are moved to confess their sins and the sins of their fathers.

This really struck me as being profoundly healthy. Exposure to things of God should prompt us to confess our iniquities. But I have had little experience confessing my sins. Even less have I experienced corporate confession. Less still have I experienced confessing the sins of my ancestors. Yet I think it's a good idea.

The only time I've heard of anything like this was in Blue Like Jazz when Miller and his friends set up a confession booth at their college to apologize for all the ways the church has damaged people. It was a stunning idea. It seems that Christians have much to apologize for. I have been arrogant and judgmental, even on this site. Lord knows my forefathers have judged people based on reading passages of scripture a certain way or holding certain beliefs. Maybe we Protestants need to rediscover the value of confesing our sins.

Great Story

2005-11-03T07:05:00.000-08:00

This week the Today show featured a segment on mysterious faiths. Today they focused on Scientology; yesterday they discussed Kaballah. Scientology, it seems, has much to do with self-actualization, ferreting out one's inner, unconscious problems, and reaching a point of full awareness and centering.

Kaballah, a sort of mystic form of Judaism, has to do with replacing negative energy with positive energy. There is much emphasis on how you should treat others. You also practice scanning over scriptures, almost with your eyes out of focus, in order to learn of the divine.

Watching all of this made me pause and consider what appeals to me about these faiths, what does not, and how my spiritual beliefs and practices differ from those mentioned on the Today show. One thing that I have thought of is that my faith is far from an individual matter. It seems that community is emphasized more in the Christian realm than perhaps it is in these other religions.

But the difference that struck me the most was the lack of story in either Kaballah or Scientology. The men that Katie interviewed, each representing one of these faiths, only discussed their religion's beliefs and practices. The Christian faith, on the other hand, is rooted in an ancient story. Now, some Christians might be more comfortable discussing their faith in terms of doctrine, beliefs, theology, and practices, but I think that telling the story gives a much more accurate picture of why I am on this particular journey.

I won't take the time to tell the story, but for me it is a compelling story indeed. To think that God's supreme value is the unity of the human family, that he is willing to go to the ends of the earth to accomplish this, and that we can participate in his work with him and be used by him to further his kingdom of unity, makes the Christian faith very attractive to me.

I think, too, that this great story is becoming increasingly important as we enter the post-modern age. I read somewhere that a significant percentage of people polled in Great Britain indicated that their religion was "Jedi." If that does not demonstrate the importance of story, I don't know what does. Here are people who have become so engrossed in the Star Wars saga that they have claimed Jedi as their religion. No matter that the story popped out of George Lucas' head, or that there is no such thing as a lightsaber or midichlorians. These people are attracted to the epic story and desire to be part of the story.

Followers of Christ have a much more compelling story to tell, and that, much more than our theology, will give us credibility in the post-modern world, in my opinion.

Spiritual Hunting

2005-10-31T12:42:00.000-08:00

The following is a rant against hunting. If this is one of your favorite passtimes, please be warned.

I always see things that I can't believe on TV as I'm getting ready for church on Sunday mornings. This one took the cake. It was a couple of rednecks talking about God and faith and Bible lessons while they were deer hunting. Lots to talk about there, but it got me thinking about hunting in general.

Dudes get dressed up in camo, which I can only assume makes one feel manly. I haven't worn camouflage since grade school. They go out into the woods, which I can attest is usually a rich experience. But they go not to enjoy nature, but to shoot it. The dude on the TV, the preacher/deer hunter, kept talking about "taking a buck" or "harvesting a deer." He never used the words "kill a deer." I don't know why. Maybe it sounds too ugly, but that's what it is - killing a deer. Grow a pair and say it, dude! "Harvesting a deer?" What the hell does that even mean? It isn't a damn piece of corn!

Putting the petty issue of linguistics aside, which is difficult to do since I am a lawyer, I find the whole issue of "harvesting" deer pretty ridiculous. You get dressed up in camo so the deer can't see you. Advantage - hunter. Then I saw a commercial for this stuff called "C'Mere Deer," which is apparently a food or strong-smelling substance that promises to attract the deer. So the hunter dresses up in camo and spreads C'Mere Deer all around him so that he doesn't have to find the deer or track the deer. The deer comes to him. Advantage - hunter.

Now, it would be one thing if the hunter jumped out and wrestled the deer or something. I would think that was pretty tough, but he doesn't. He's armed with a shotgun that would blow a hole in a car door. Oh, and the deer is, predictably, unarmed. Big Advantage - hunter.

So here we have our macho redneck hunter, all decked out in camo, spreading C'mere Deer all around, then blasting the hell out of the unsuspecting deer, who of course, never meant anyone any harm. It blows my mind that people seriously refer to this as "sport." You can see how it becomes even more ludicrous when the rednecks are holding forth about Jonah and the whale or something. Either that or I'm a huge sissy.

Where Did These Values Come From?

2005-10-27T10:06:00.000-07:00

I got to thinking last night about values. Our culture places value on certain things, like being able to run fast and catch a football. So when a guy does that, and insodoing scores 6 points for his team, he celebrates because the crowd is cheering, thereby validating him. Chicks get boob jobs because our society places value on big boobs. They're looking for value.

Our culture values cell phones alot. In fact, this blows my mind. I have some friends who work with refugees from other countries. They tell me that one of the first purchases many refugees make is a cell phone! How crazy is that? When I heard it, I was speechless. These people, who barely know English, who have to work stupid hours at low-paying jobs, who live in crap housing with their 8 kids, place a priority on a cell phone! They have to get food stamps to aford diapers, but they piss away $50 a month on a cell phone. Who are they talking to anyway? It takes no time for our culture to grab them by the throat, even though they are coming from having nothing, and pretty much have nothing even though they're in "the land of opportunity."

Two other things our society tells us are important are large houses and cars. Therefore, everyone chases after those things, because we want to be perceived as having value. Now here's my little observation. Say somehow it all changed. Say something really huge happened and turned it all upside down, so that all of a sudden the American Dream was not to get bigger things, but smaller. All of a sudden we would value living in smaller spaces and driving smaller cars. Is there any doubt in anyone's mind that we would all get a one-bedroom apartment and a tiny car as fast as we could? Of course we would. My point is that all of this crap that we chase after has nothing to do with our real wants and even less to do with our needs. It's about some nameless, faceless person out there whispering to us about what is good and what has value, and us mindlessly chasing it. It doesn't matter what it is, and if it changed we would chase something else. The point is that we do it without questioning. We do not make our own decisions about our values. Some amorphous entity out there called society does it for us. And we continue our mindless slumber in the Matrix. Is anyone else out there starving for a red pill? (Or was it blue?)

Follow Up

2005-10-24T07:19:00.000-07:00

To supplement my last post on Jesus and Proms, here is a quote from Donald Miller's most recent book:

[T]he Jesus that exists in our minds is hardly the real Jesus. The Jesus on CNN, the Jesus in our books and in our movies, the Jesus that is a collection of evangelical personalities, is often a Jesus of the suburbs, a Jesus who wants you to be a better yuppie, a Jesus who is extremely political and supports a specific party, a Jesus who has declared a kind of culture war in the name of our children, a Jesus who worked through the founding fathers to begin America, a Jesus who dresses very well, speaks perfect English, has three points that fulfill any number of promises and wants you and me to be, above all, comfortable. Is this the real Jesus?

Jesus and Proms

2005-10-20T09:32:00.000-07:00

Thanks for your thoughts about what makes a person a Christian. Like Brent, I don't think there's a definitive answer out there for us. Like Amanda, I think we should focus on points on which we can agree. Like Tony, I think some of the wisest words on this question come from Jesus, who said that his sheep know his voice. Keep the ideas coming, if you like.

Anyway, I was visiting another blog, and the author mentioned the principle who cancelled his school's prom. Various commenters were applauding the principle's decision. Then one guy mentioned that he had not attended his school's prom, and he strongly suspected that Jesus would not have attended his prom either, if they had had one at Nazareth High. Another guy disagreed, saying that Jesus probably would attend his prom, and maybe even an after party or two, but he would not have gone on one of the "booze cruises," in which parents charter boats for their kids after the prom.

This kind of talk wears me out. This is why I think that a WWJD bracelet is great in principle, but is of little practical value. You can ask "WWJD?" about the prom, but the problem is that nobody knows. One person thinks that Jesus would be a prude, staying home to brush up on the Torah, reveling in his heightened level of morality. Another person thinks Jesus would attend prom and hit an after party, but would steer clear of the booze cruises. Where's the logic in that? If Jesus is at the after party, why won't he go on the cruise? I'm sure some people think that Jesus would go to all the parties, preaching that the decadent young people need to repent or burn. Other people probably think that he would turn the water fountains into vodka fountains or something.

Here's my thing with all of this. It seems to me that whenever we ask WWJD? about something like a prom, or voting, or the death penalty, or whatever, we are prone to answer in a way that is consistent with what WE would do. The dude that didn't go to his prom had a vested interest in saying that Jesus wouldn't go to prom either. The other guy was okay with going to a party, but not a booze cruise, so for him, Jesus would do the same thing. It's so easy to fabricate a Jesus that believes what we believe about an issue, such as homosexuality, and acts like we would act in a given situation. That little Jesus leaves us right where we're comfortable. But that isn't the real Jesus.

Jesus told people to tell the inquisitive John the Baptist, "Blessed is he who does not take offense at me." (Matt. 11). I take that to mean that the ones who are blessed to see Jesus for what he really is, rather than what they'd like him to be or expect him to be, are blessed indeed. If that's something that John needed to hear, I probably do too.

An Important Question

2005-10-19T07:07:00.000-07:00

Usually my little blog serves as a repository for my thoughts and stuff. Today I want to use it to pick the brains of whomever comes by. I have a question that I want to pose:

What makes a person a Christian?

I welcome your responses. In fact, if you read this, please don't leave without saying something, even if it's that you have no idea. I look forward to reading your thoughts on the matter.

Why Peter and Not James?

2005-10-14T07:13:00.000-07:00

In Acts 12, Luke writes that King Herod was persecuting members of the way. He arrested James, brother of John, and had him executed. Herod also seized Peter, likely planning to kill him as well. Luke tells his readers that the early church members were praying fervently to God on Peter's behalf. Lo and behold, an angel of God rescues Peter from prison. When Peter shows up where the early Christians are gathered, they do not believe it is him. Even when they accept that it is, in fact, Peter, they are amazed.

This story troubles me. Although Luke does not record the Christians praying fervently to God for James, I think it's safe to assume that they did so, given that they were praying for Peter. So, assuming that that's correct, we have devout Christians praying for two of their imprisoned leaders. One is rescued by an angel; the other is beheaded. So what's up?

I really don't know, but this story highlights a problem I have with the view of prayer I grew up with. Sometimes good, honest, well-intentioned prayers seem to be answered, and sometimes they don't. I don't think there are any easy answers. I don't think James was being punished or Peter rewarded. I don't think it had to do with faith because the early church was disbelieving, then shocked and amazed that God had seemingly intervened on Peter's behalf. It seems they expected the prayer to go unanswered, yet Peter was saved. So I don't think faith was the issue here.

Also, when we have a prayer go unanswered, I think we have a tendency to make up reasons in order to get God off the hook. "It wasn't God's will." "It had to happen for some other good thing to happen." "God will act in the way that brings him more glory." All of these excuses seem naive and prideful. Naive because they don't really help. Was it God's will for the sword to fall and his servant James to perish? That seems unlikely. The excuses seem prideful because they all assume that we can comprehend the way the world and God work together or do not work together. In short, I don't think we can know why the sword fell on James and Peter was miraculously rescued.

The wisdom I glean from this passage is that the early church was praying to God about things that concerned them. Thus, I think we are called to pray to God at all times. We pray humbly. We pray without having to understand. We do not try to explain God's action or lack thereof. When the results puzzle us, we do not seek to resolve the dissonance with silly excuses. We just confess that we lack understanding. But we go on praying. We pray because the one we call Lord and Master taught us to.

Off-Limit Heart Rooms

2005-10-10T12:14:00.000-07:00

Well, it seems I'm the only God-fearing blogger who was not at the Zoe conference this weekend. However, courtesy of my friend Phil, I did get to listen to an enlightening sermon by my old teacher, Randy Harris, about Christian idolatry.

Harris proposes that one characteristic of an idol worshipper is that he is divided. There are facets of his life in which he submits to and worships Yahweh, but there are others areas that are untouched and unaffected by his worship. This thought reminded me of a conversation I had with one of the elders of my church about the work of God's Spirit within us. He likened it to there being different rooms of our hearts, some of which we allow God to occupy and some of which we do not.

If this is not true for anyone else, it is true for me. So, as sort of a confession, I offer two areas of my life that I often do not allow God to touch. First, I keep God from curing me of my problem with lust. I do not submit to God in this area; rather, I hide from him. I guess I want to hold on to the lust. It comes in many forms. There may be days that I willingly view pornography, lusting intentionally. On the other hand, it may be that I'm not in a depraved sort of mind at all, but something flashes on the TV that cause my thoughts to turn lustful. This is a struggle I have been fighting and mostly losing ever since I was a teenager. I pray that I will surrender this area of my life to God's reign.

Second, I desire things, and I don't allow God into that area. Here are some examples of things I have spent time in the past month thinking that I would like to have:
a new gym bag
Converse All Stars
new dress clothes
several new DVDs
a new TV (plasma, in an ideal world)
a laptop computer
a Jeep
an ipod
a new winter coat
a motorcycle
a Nashville Predators jersey
a Master Replicas lightsaber

I'll stop. That's not all. Notice that none of the items are things I need. Yet I think about them. It's stupid, really. I have got to hand my materialism over to God, but deep down, I wonder whether I'd like to save that room for myself.

So there's my two-part confession. Bless me, blogging community, for I have sinned.

Boundaries and Trees

2005-10-05T09:19:00.000-07:00

I'm going to rip off a question that Tony asked on his blog. I'd link to his page, but I don't have the skills. "You know, skills." I've been thinking about this question, and I don't want to take up space on his blog with my random thoughts.

The question is why did God put the tree of knowledge of good and evil in the garden and then tell Adam and Eve not to eat from it?

First, I don't think that the Adam and Eve, serpent and apple story is a factual account of a historical event. I view it more as a myth, told by ancient people to illustrate a point about the human predicament. Nevertheless, I believe the story is true, from a metaphoric point of view.

In the story, God granted Adam and Eve license to eat of any tree in the garden, save one. Thus, the tree of knowledge of good and evil represents a boundary. Adam and Eve wanted to know no boundaries. They figured if they obtained enough knowledge, they would be like God - independent and self-sufficient. So at its core, the story is about God setting boundaries and humans violating them, mistakenly believing that it wouls serve their best interest.

The question remains, why would God set a boundary? I think the answer is simple. Boundaries are good. I do not let my daughter play in the street. It's not that the street is bad or morally reprehensible, and neither is playing. But playing in the street is dangerous. Thus, I have instituted a boundary for my daughter's best interest.

Likewise, I believe that God, in his wisdom, has designed an order to life, in order for life to best be lived. An example would be sex. Sex is great, but it needs boundaries. Mess with the boundaries, and it stops being good. Why? I don't know. In the same way, alcohol is good, but we all know how bad it can be apart from boundaries.

God, the author of life, knows how life is best lived. I think that this is a very simple way of studying the sermon on the mount. Jesus advises us that it is better to turn the other cheek than to resist evil or seek revenge. He says it's actually better to give than to get. It's better not to worry. In fact, Jesus could have been speaking directly to Adam and Eve when he made the last statement. "Don't worry. Trust God. You don't need to be independent from him. The birds and flowers depend on him. Why won't you guys?" Jesus knew how life was best lived, and boundaries are a big part of that.

The remaining question is why are humans built in such a way that we kick against the notion of boundaries? Why could we not be like ants, who go about their tasks mindlessly, as if they had no choice? It seems to me that this would be a very boring creature. Were I the Creator, I would be much more interested in creatures who are capable of choosing to abide by my order, kingdom, etc. And when one of them does, when one of my creatures observes the order that I established for his own good, and insodoing leans toward me, I would say, "Ahh. This one gets it." And I would be proud.

Home Again

2005-10-04T09:11:00.000-07:00

My adventure in Louisiana is over. My group of eleven men almost tore an entire house down in two days. The house had been filled with five feet of water, soaking all of the carpet, furniture, clothes, walls, and insulation. The couple who owned the house, who were in their seventies, evacuated for the hurricane and only returned a day before we arrived. Therefore the house had been unoccupied and wet for five weeks. The mold was incredible.

Although it was very sad to see all of this couples' possessions piled in a gigantic heap in their front yard, it was good to know that we had done for them what they were unable to do for themselves. The house was now rid of all the dangerous mold, had been cleaned and treated with a bleach compound. Although the couple was understandably shaken, they felt like they coupld move forward and rebuild. They were so grateful for the work we did.

I hope I can go back in a month or six weeks and help someone else. Joy in its purest form is found in serving someone who needs help. I hope I can remember that throughout my daily grind.

Relief Work Looms

2005-09-28T12:36:00.000-07:00

Well, the time is almost upon me. Tomorrow morning at 6:00 a.m., I leave with a group from my church to go down to hurricane-ravaged Mississippi and Louisiana to help with the relief effort. I'll be coming back late, late Saturday. Two days away from work, three days away from my family. No big deal.

What concerns me is not what I'll miss while I'm gone, but what I'll find down south. I really just don't want to go. My team will be working in houses, ripping out everthing - dry wall, insulation, carpet, furniture - that was damaged by the floodwaters. It will be hot. There will be bugs. Reports say that bug spray is ineffective. Additionally, bugs have made their homes in the walls of the houses. Big bugs. Like four inches long. Guiness World Record bugs. They say they go everywhere when you tear out the insulation. They say the smell is insufferable. Dead animals laying around. You wear a mask, but after 4 hours or so you have to change because it's black from the mold spores. I really don't want to go.

A year ago, I would not have gone. I may have considered it, but I would've opted out. It's strange, but I never really decided to go. I'm just going. I feel like I had no choice in the matter. I have a job with some flexibility, I am in good enough shape to do the hard work, so I'm going.

But I really don't want to. I don't usually even get up at 6:00 a.m. Neither do I typically wear steel-toed shoes or leather gloves. I really dislike bugs. But what are you gonna do? There's work to be done, so here I go. Maybe I'll learn something along the way, because my preacher is going, too.

Peace.

Pain

2005-09-26T14:07:00.000-07:00

A good friend pointed this quote out to me this morning:

"Our responding to life's unfairness with sympathy may be the surest proof of all of God's reality."
(Harold Kushner)

This quote is dear to me right now, because over the past 24 hours I have been made acutely aware of the pain that certain people are feeling. I heard from a prisoner last night how he was denied parole and wouldn't get another opportunity for a year based on something he said he didn't do.
I got an email from a friend whose 17 year old cousin, who was pregnant, was in a car accident. They had to do an emergency C-section, and determined that the baby wouldn't recover. The teenage mother had to make the decision to turn off life support.
I read a story on CNN about a 10 year old boy with a brain tumor. The boy loved Notre Dame football, so the team ran a play in his honor during their game Saturday, but the boy died before he could witness it.
I'm going down to Mississippi and Louisiana on Thursday to help in the relief work following the two hurricanes.

So many people in pain, so much despair. Even so, I believe that God is real. In fact, it is when I see and feel the suffering that I am most certain that God is real, and that he cares.

Keating's Thoughts on the Human Family

2005-09-22T14:38:00.000-07:00

I have nothing profitable to blog about, so I offer a few nuggets from Thomas Keating, whose book on Jesus' parables I am reading:

"The interiorization of Jesus' teaching about the unity of the human family as the most urgent expression of the will of God, must upstage every other value and consideration."
(from Keating's analysis of the parable of the good Samaritan)

"According to Jesus, his heavenly Father is not especially interested in legal codes and in conventional morality. He seeks the unity of the human family, the removal of divisions and barriers . . . ."
(from his analysis of the parable of the prodigal son)

"Our relationship to our local community and to the human family as a whole determines whether we are in the kingdom or out of it, both now and in the next life."
(from his analysis of the parable of the rich man and Lazarus)

"The kingdom of God is for everyone who understands that solidarity with the human family, made concrete in our local community, is the name of the game."
(same)

"[I]n the Christian perspective, community is the supreme value. To relate to the whole human family as God's family is the basic thrust of the gospel."
(same)

What Have I Lost?

2005-09-20T06:50:00.000-07:00

Well, things have been pretty theoretical around here lately, so here is a more practical musing. Sunday at my church we sang a song, and one line stuck out for me. I can't remember it verbatim, but it was something like, "All that I've lost cannot compare to what I've gained with you,"
speaking of God.

My question is, what have I lost? I have a house, two cars, an education, more clothes than I wear, two TVs, and an XBox. I eat what I want when I want. I occasionally buy a new shirt or go see a movie. I go to the gym to be fit. I mow my lawn. It seems that I look like any normal American. What have I lost?

More from Fenelon

2005-09-14T07:08:00.000-07:00

Boy, that last title was bad. It sounded kind of funny at the time, though. Well, here's a few more phrases from two letters Fenelon wrote that really struck me, particularly in light of my Christian education, upbringing, and ongoing church experience, where a high premium is placed on knowledge and thinking.

"You mentors are too dry and intellectual and critical. These people oppose an inward spiritual life. Even if you only listen to them a little, you will be drawn out of a quiet and simple faith. They reason too much and are unhealthily curious."
"Do not trust your mind too much -- how many times has it led you astray? My own mind has been such a deceiver that I no longer count on it. Be simple."
"I warn you again: Beware of philosophers. They will trap you and do you more harm than you know how to do them good. Their discussions go on forever, yet they never come to the simple truth. Intellectuals are unwisely curious[.]"
"Love with a humble heart and the Truth will love you. You will know what philosophers cannot know and even what philosophers do not want to know. I hope that you will obtain the knowledge that is kept for babes and the simple-minded. Such knowledge is hid from the wise and prudent."
"Thinking too much will distract you. If you become trapped in your thoughts, they will blow out your inward spiritual sense like a wind blowing out a candle. If you keep company with people like this, you will see how dry their hearts are and how far their minds have drifted off center. It is best to stay away from such people. . . . Stay away from people who sound good but never exhibit true fruit of an inward walk."

You Go, Girlfriend, I Mean, uh, Fenelon.

2005-09-13T08:42:00.000-07:00

I'm reading a book right now by a French Archbishop named Francois de Fenelon who lived in the 17th and 18th centuries. The book is a compilation of letters he wrote about life with God. Last night I read this bit of wisdom that I want to record in my little online journal:

"How strong you will be when you see that you are completely weak. Then you will always be able to believe that you are mistaken. Open yourself to the insight of others. . . .If you are not careful, you will acquire so much knowledge that you will need another lifetime to put it all into practice. There is danger in thinking that you are perfect simply because you understand what it would be like to be perfect. All your beautiful theories do not help you die to yourself. Knowledge encourages the life of Adam in you because you secretly delight in your revelation. Never trust your own power or your own knowledge. Be humble. Do not trust your old nature."

Two phrases really struck me. The first was about believing that I am mistaken. The second is my theories not helping me die to myself. I need to read those several times a day.

Stillness in East Tennessee

2005-09-12T07:30:00.000-07:00

My family and I spent last week in the mountains of east Tennessee. Although the town we stayed in is very touristy, complete with airbrushed t-shirt shops on every corner and an alarming number of knife and sword shops (do that many people know how to wield a sword?), I found time for some rich meditation.

My wife and I hiked to the top of a mountain. We've done that a handful of times, but this time was special. We encountered no one else on the trail. We were alone on the mountaintop. Although it was a warm day, there was a chill in the air due to the altitude. There was not a sound, save the breeze blowing. It's funny how quiet nature generally is. It's us, the people, that bring noise, with our cell phones and exhaust pipes and insufferably loud stereos. We could see ten or so other mountain tops. We were almost in the clouds. Our perspective on the world was so different up there.

We also hiked by a waterfall, and a pond was at the base of the falls. The water was still and calm before it rushed on, tumbling over rocks down the mountain. It reminded me of how hurried my life seems. But every now and then I seem to hit a pool, a still place of rest.

I found a little Episcopal church, and the sanctuary, though empty, was open and available for people to come in and pray. I spent time there meditating on faith - how essential it is for meaningful discipleship, and how small my faith is. I pray for a greater faith which will acknowledge that God is present, providing good things like the air that I take for granted as I walk down the sidewalk, lost in my own concerns. I pray that I would acknowledge, love, and worship this God without having to comprehend and understand him. And I pray that I will continue to spend time in prayer without having to be able to give an account of or explain exactly what it is that I'm doing.

So, I am grateful for my time in the mountains. It was a rich experience, not unlike the time I just spent at the monastery. I can't put my finger on anything that I learned, but I seem to have encountered God a bit more, and that is no bad thing.

A Broken, Flooded World

2005-09-01T13:37:00.000-07:00

Like everyone else, I have been bombarded with images and stories of the disaster in New Orleans. I cannot imagine the fear and helplessness those who are stranded must be feeling. To be unable to give my child food, water, and a clean diaper would be torture in and of itself.

But I want to focus on the looters. I have felt a sting of hatred as I have heard about the theft, the gunfire, the lawlessness. In such a time as this, these sub-human pieces of filth are stealing expensive watches and shooting at the people who are trying to save them? I can think of no better place for them to rot than the hell that is New Orleans.

Thankfully my anger has given way to sorrow. These people are so broken that they cannot think about anyone but themselves, even in a desperate time. They are so without hope that they expend valuable time and energy duing this crisis to try to hoarde material things. They are so foolish that they are carrying electronics out into the flooded streets. Where will they plug in that TV? These people are lost, like sheep with no shepherd. Even under the most dire circumstances they cannot muster a selfless thought. Though the material world around them crumbles, they cling to whatever material things they can steal.

I wonder if I'll ever meet one of the looters in a nursing home one day. We'll both be in our eighties, rocking in our chairs, and I'll notice the Rolex on his arm. "Nice watch," I'll say. "A gift from your kids?" "No, sir," he'll say, "I stole this during that big hurricane that devastated New Orleans in 2005. Remember, when all those people were starving and stranded? Well I took that opportunity to steal me a watch."

That makes me damn sad to think about. Provided that these people survive, will they be proud that in a time of terrific need they stole stereos and shot at rescue workers? Will they, given hindsight and the wisdom of old age, see that when they had an opportunity to be heroes, they chose to be thugs?

But on a grander scale, I fear that I am no better than the looters. The world in which I live is in crisis mode. People die every day from AIDS, malnutrition, unsanitary water. We look at the hell that is New Orleans and wonder how many days it will take for something to be done. But the New Orleans experience is everyday life for many in places like Kenya and Niger. The babies in New Orleans are not the only ones not being fed and clothed. The victims of the hurricane are not the only people who are trapped and homeless and dying.

Meanwhile, I am out looting. I live well while others die without food and medicine. I am not being a hero. I am being selfish. And I don't think it makes much more sense that wading through waist-deep water to steal a radio. God help us all.

Prayer is Strange

2005-08-30T12:33:00.000-07:00

Growing up in a conservative church of Christ youth group, I viewed prayer as people basically asking God for something or trying to get God to do something, hence the term "prayer request." Sure, you thank him and praise him to butter him up a bit, or maybe to keep from making him mad, but what we were really there for was to ask him for something.
Generally, we only asked for big things. We would pray for someone who had an incurable disease, like cancer. We would pray for victims of some natural disaster because that was out of our control. But if it was a treatable disease, we pretty much left it alone. We might pray for the doctors or something, but we felt like God could pretty much let that situation ride. It was not unlike the ancients who prayed to the rain god because they did not understand weather patterns. God was sort of the cosmic pilot who would fill in the gaps in the big situations that were beyond us.
Well, I think that while not altogether wrong, that view of prior is a bit immature and far from ideal. Unfortunately, I think that some people, such as John Shelby Spong, have thrown the proverbial baby out with the bathwater. He pretty much rejects the petitionary style of praying wholesale, but he goes a step further, essentially saying that if we were just praying to a holy genie to fill in the gaps of our understanding, and if some prayers go unanswered, then our whole view of God was wrong. He is not a "person," he has no overarching will, save for life to be enhanced, and he is more akin to the force than to the God of Israel.
Here's my beef with all of that. I think that people like Spong are products of modernity, with its emphasis on reason, intellect, logic, and understanding. They look around at the deficiencies in the way God's people have approached prayer. They see that people no longer pray to God for rain, as we can just watch the weather. Yet we will go on praying for victims of cancer. How long? Until there is a cure, or course. We can take it from there. So the God we thought we were praying to is just a myth. Spong and his modern cerebrum can no longer conceive of a God that responds to our ridiculous requests and intervenes in our trivial world. So if it sounds illogical, unreasonable, or inexplicable, modern man chucks it, and he's left with God as the force.
The problem is, I don't think that this is the God that is spoken of in the Bible, is revealed in Jesus, or that I have experienced. Somehow, I don't think Jesus was a deist, and it's Jesus that I want to follow.
So for me, I have begun to appreciate prayer more as an experience that changes me. I am learning to appreciate the mystical aspects of prayer and my faith, which seems to be largely mystical as I read the gospels, in particular. I understand that modern minds, mine included, are somewhat uncomfortable with not understanding God or what exactly is happening when we pray. But the post-modern side of me tells me that I'm never going to pin God down, either as a person or as a force. To assume that I can do so is to be filled with pride. So I do pray, and when I do, I count on God being merciful to me, because I really have no idea what I'm doing.

Mulligan

2005-08-23T13:54:00.000-07:00

I tried to blog about this this morning, but it was way too passionate and sarcastic, so I took it down. Now I'm going to try again. This bothers me:

http://www.cnn.com/2005/US/08/23/robertson.chavez/index.html

It bothers me that a Christian man is advocating an assassination attempt. It seems to me that Pat Robertson's wisdom has failed him, and though having ears, he has failed to hear Jesus.
In my opinion, Pat Robertson's problem is the same problem Peter had shortly before Jesus' arrest. Jesus warned his apostles of his pending suffering and death, but Peter would not hear of it. The Messiah was supposed to overthrow Rome and usher in Israel's never-ending kingdom, in which Peter would be one of the top dogs. Jesus called Peter "Satan" and told him that he was mindful of his own plans rather than God's.
Fast forward two thousand years. Pat Robertson is calling for a man's assassination. He is also campaigning hard for the installation of conservative Supreme Court justices who share his views, he is seeking to trim the rights of people that do not believe or act as he does, and he applauds the U.S. for steam-rolling anyone that threatens its liberty, rights, money, lifestyle, or oil interests.
Peter and seemingly Mr. Robertson have in common the problem of wanting God to bring about his kingdom with military might, a kingdom that would bring them religious and political vindication. Instead, Jesus would offer the sermon on the mount and his own innocent suffering and death.
I worry about Pat Robertson because I know people who, repulsed by him and his views, are turned away from Jesus. For some people, Mr. Robertson gets in the way of the gospel. How can the world take Jesus seriously when his followers want to see people killed?
I hope that Mr. Robertson's comments will not cause would-be disciples to stumble. I pray the same thing for all of the high-profile Christians - Brian McLaren, Donald Miller, Bono, the Pope, Rick Warren, John Eldridge, Jesse Jackson, Max Lucado. The gospel is too precious to allow our personal agendas to get in the way.

Lessons Learned

2005-08-22T08:05:00.000-07:00

This past weekend my wife and I accompanied a group of about 12 other people to a monastery in Alabama. I want to briefly jot down a couple of things I learned.

First, I learned to see analogies for my discipleship in nature. I was excited by this because normally my mind does not work this way, and I've always envied Jesus and Rich Mullins, who were so aware of spiritual things in nature.
As I walked around the monastery late one night, I thought about the moon. The moon has no glory of its own. It is a barren ball of dirt suspended in space. It gives off no light. But at night, it reflects the light and glory of the sun. I want to be like that.
One of the sisters at the monastery helped our group appreciate the similarities between a follower and a lump of clay. The most profound thought that she gave to me was that if a potter wants to work on a piece of clay for a long time, the potter must keep sprinkling the clay with water, or it will become hard. A disciple works the same way. We will grow hard over time if God does not "sprinkle" us in some way so that he may continue to mold us. I think Rich Mullins referred to this as God shaking us forward and free.
Finally, our leader asked us to spend an extended period of time in silence, pondering God's call for our life. I went to the chapel at the monastery to read the Bible and found myself reading the parable of the sower. I feel that God is calling me, and all his children, to be good soil that will produce much fruit. Bad soil, like that in my yard, tends to produce weeds. I want to be good soil.

As I pondered these little lessons from nature, I went to the labyrinth at the monastery, and saw a plaque that read, "From east to west, from north to south, let all creation adore you, O God." This phrase was very relevant to the teaching I had received.

Second, I had been reading a book by Thomas Keating, who is big into centering prayer. In his book, he explained that Christ is at the center of all people. As I walked to the center of the labyrinth, I was made more aware of that fact, and I desperately want to lay down my false self, with my selfish agendas, world view, and values, in order that Christ may live instead of me. According to Keating, when this happens, I will be fully human, saved, and redeemed.

Interesting debate

2005-08-18T13:28:00.000-07:00

I'm sort of fascinated by arguments, which I suppose explains my chosen profession. I recently observed an online debate about whether it was a sin for the U.S. to drop two atomic bombs on Hiroshima and Nagasaki at the end of the Second World War. All of the participants in the debate were Christians, at least nominally.
The patriotic Christians, whom I have bashed before, predictably defended Truman, the bomb, the flag, Mount Rushmore, capitalism, and Manifest Destiny. The liberals kept pointing to Jesus' teachings about nonviolence.
But the interesting dimension to the debate was the conflicting view of our ethical obligations. Those who defended the bombs, which killed so many innocent civilians, utilized a utilitarian style of ethics, which says that we should do what would bring the most good to the most people. So, if dropping the bomb brought a quicker end to the war and saved additional lives, it was the morally right thing to do. You kill some to save more.
Those who argued that it was a sin to drop the bomb adopted a deontological approach, which states that there are certain things you never do. Killing is always immoral, so you don't do it. The ends do not justify the means.
Anyone who has visited my little blog can probably guess where I fall, but that is not my point. My point is that people who profess to follow Jesus need to think long and hard about these two ethical options as they read the sermon on the mount. When Jesus says "turn the other cheek," and "love your enemies," is that an absolute teaching, irrespective of time, place, and circumstances? Or can that teaching be disregarded if it is in the best interest of the greatest number of people?
It is not an easy question, especially in the context of World War II. To utilize the utilitarian view can quickly devolve into whining, "But look what the bad guys did! Look what they were going to do!" To side with the deontologists is to risk the Nazis taking over the world, leaving millions dead in their wake.
All of the sudden a W.W.J.D. bracelet is not so useful.

Second Quote(s)

2005-08-17T07:38:00.000-07:00

More from Keating:

"Faith is not just the acceptance of abstract propositions about God; it is the total surrender of ourselves to God."

"We cannot reach faith by reasoning. It is like an intuition. We can prepare for it by reflection, by longing for it, and by pleading for it. But it can only come as a gift. Once it has been given, life assumes a new direction."

"Faith is not just the assent of our minds to a series of dogmas. Such a superficial view drains it of its full meaning. Faith is basically the surrender of our will. It is not a matter of understanding with our heads; it is the gift of our entire being to God -- to the ultimate reality."

"In the study of speculative theology and in the scientific study of scripture, a great many values are obtained, but they are all on the same level, the level of the intellect. That is fine as far as it goes, but it does not go far enough. If theology is taught only as one more science among many, the preaching of the Gospel will become sterile indeed."

"In the West, the analytical approach to knowledge has been pushed to its utmost limits. It has produced wonderful advances in science. But when it comes to prayer and interior silence, Western man is somewhat embarrassed and ill at ease."

"[M]any Christians, who even though they were instructed intellectually in the faith, have not really interiorized Christian values through a regular method of prayer and the practice of virtue."

First Quote

2005-08-15T07:24:00.000-07:00

I've read this quote by Thomas Keating close to ten times now, and it continues to stretch my mind:

"[W]hen anyone follows his conscience, in which the law of God is written, at some point he will meet the grace of Christ, since it is offered to everyone of good will. Whether he knows the historical Jesus or not, he will come to know Christ as the eternal Word of God, the Cosmic Christ, who "enlightenens everyone" (John 1:9) and through whom "all things were made" (John 1:3). He will come to know the Christ who is in the inmost conscience of every man and woman, waiting to manifest himself to them in the degree that they follow the promptings of their conscience. Whoever attains to grace, attains the grace of Christ."

This is a perspective on Christ that is new to me, but it makes a great deal of sense in my mind.

Do I Need a Sword?

2005-08-10T07:41:00.000-07:00

About a week ago, JMG posted on her blog the interesting story about how Jesus told his closest followers shortly before his arrest that it was time for them to equip themselves with, among other things, swords. See Luke 22. I was kindly invited to participate in the discussion, but only found out about it yesterday. Since one of the comments on the "Trouble on Sunday Morning" post made reference to this story, I thought I'd talk about it.
I think first that it is important that we not make up our minds first about an issue such as self-defense and then go to the Bible to find support for our decision. If I proceed that way, I can find support in the Bible for having my daughter stoned when she is insubordinate. Although the Bible is clear on this point, I never the less believe that such an action on my part would violate Christ's law. So, my point is that we can't always take the Bible at face value, much to the chagrin of the evangelical church, of which I am a part. Rather, we must approach the Bible humbly, willing that it would shape us and inform our beliefs and actions, relying heavily on God's Spirit to lead us into truth.
On to the story. Jesus has just told his disciples, specifically Peter, that he has been praying for them because Satan wants to sift them like wheat. Jesus does not wants his disciples' faith to fail, but he seems to indicate that it will. Then he expressly predicts Peter's denial of him. Jesus reminds his followers that when he sent them out to preach with no extra supplies, their needs were met. But then he warns them that the time has come to pack a bag, and if they have no sword, they need to get one because prophecy is about to be fulfilled. The disciples tell him that they have two swords, and he says that's enough.
In my opinion, Jesus is not literally telling his apostles to arm themselves. Otherwise, he would not have rebuked Peter for cutting off Malchus' ear. Also, if he really wanted his followers to go armed, two swords for twelve dudes clearly is not enough. So first, I would argue that Jesus was speaking metaphorically.
The metaphor, in my mind, has to do with two related things. First, that a time of trial and presecution is imminent. Jesus just told his followers that he is praying for their faith not to fail because the devil wants to have his way with them. He predicts that Peter will fold under the pressure. I think that Jesus telling his apostles to get swords is symbolic for telling them that the time of testing is near. In one of my least favorite praise songs, we sing, "And these are days of great trials, of famine and darkness and sword. The sword symbolizes a time of struggle, testing, trial, persecution, trouble, pain. This explanation jives well with Jesus praying for the faith of his followers in the difficult time, as well as how almost all of the apostles flee when the time of the sword arrives. Before, things were good. People were flocking to Jesus, listening to the sermons, watching the healings. The apostles were going around teaching, casting out demons, staying with benevolent people. The biggest concern of the apostles was who was going to sit at Jesus' right hand when he instituted his kingdom. Jesus warns them, by giving them the metaphor of the sword, that those happy days are over. He's about to die, they will run, and even when he's raised and the church is born, Christians will be persecuted and martyred. Jesus predicted a time of the sword that the apostles needed to prepare themselves for, he prayed for them in that time, and that time came.
The second, albeit closely related thing that I think the sword metaphor stands for, is that Jesus is about to do what the apostles had been waiting for him to do. They wanted him to stand up to Rome and restore the kingdom of Israel. They thought that he would do this with military force, i.e. swords. Well, Jesus was about to do exactly what they wanted him to do, but in the exact opposite way. He was going to defeat evil, the principalities and powers, and Rome, but he would do it by quietly suffering and dying at their hands. So he gives them the metaphor of the sword to indicate to them that the time has come for him to be Israel's true king, but in an odd twist, swords won't really be necessary.

Trouble on Sunday Morning

2005-08-08T09:40:00.000-07:00

I learned something yesterday that has caused my heart to burn with anger, sorrow, and pain. I have been unable to get it off of my mind.
A friend of mine was the substitute teacher for the young married's Sunday school class at my church. The class is studying Luke and Acts. My friend wanted to spend the hour discussing some of Jesus' more difficult teachings, such as "sell your possessions and give to the poor" and "turn the other cheek."
My friend's teaching met with some resistance, comments geared toward self-justification and rationalization for our un-Christ-like conduct.
"Well, Jesus didn't really mean . . ."
"Well, we aren't all called to . . ."
"Well, what if everyone did that . . ."
Most troubling was that one of the class participants, responding during the "turn the other cheek" discussion, proudly remarked that if anyone ever tried to break into his home, he would kill them.
I find it deeply and profoundly distressing, almost to the point of despair, that a person who wears the name of Christ would so flippantly and nonchalantly disregard the plain teachings of his supposed "Lord." It is as though the person were saying, "Thanks for the cross and all Jesus. I love atonement theology, and I'm really looking forward to going to heaven. But when it comes to living my life, screw you. I'm my own god."
I am reminded of how Peter took Jesus aside and told him that it wasn't in the cards for Israel's Messiah to suffer and die. Jesus told Peter to stand down, that he had his mind set on the things of men, not God. When the cross came, Peter denied Jesus three times.
I guess the reason that this incident troubles me so deeply is that this person effectively said that it wasn't in the cards for him to suffer and die. Many "Christians" still order their lives according to the ways of men, not God. And some of us will pridefully deny Jesus in the middle of Sunday school.

Hiding from God

2005-08-05T12:07:00.000-07:00

I've really benefitted from the discussions that have gone on here over the past week or two. I have one thought left before I hang it up for the weekend.
I read this quote in a book about contemplative Christianity written by a Cistercian monk named Thomas Keating: "We hide from God's presence in the underbrush of thinking . . . ."
In my experience, this is true. My prayer is that I would not be a slave to my own intellect, to logic and reason and my own capacity to explain things. I want to use my intellect, certainly, but I don't want my life with God to be ruled by it. As a product of modernity, I am tempted to always reduce things to a formula that I can easily digest. I want to steer clear of that in the future.
As a son of God, I have been given his Spirit of wisdom, which can teach me far more than I could learn on my own or from another man. Moreover, I have experienced God's nature, his love, mercy and compassion. I have tasted his salvation. I pray that I don't treat these graces as I would a mathematic or scientific concept to be merely learned, acknowledged, and stored away.
I want to be conscious on a deeper level of God's presence and less worried about obtaining answers to my questions. As Obiwan Kenobi advised young Luke, I want to trust my feelings, because my intellect and capacity to reason may fool me.
I believe Keating was right. We hide from God in our capacity to reason and understand. His presence is too great, his ways too good, his wisdom too holy. A god that I can explain and predict is much safer and less intimidating to me. But I am praying that I will have the courage to come out of my hiding place, acknowledge my smallness and ignorance, and be prepared to be changed.

The Cross

2005-08-03T13:17:00.000-07:00

An Anonymous poster left a comment on the "What's the Big Deal" blog that has had me thinking all day. Responding to many people's thoughts about non-Christians making it to heaven, this poster asked why Jesus went to the cross if there was another way for people to be saved. Why did Jesus die for people's sins if he was not necessary for salvation? I think these are good questions that merit their own discussion.
First, my disclaimer. As I have stated before, I think that "salvation" has precious little to do with eternity and alot to do with how we live in the present. I think that I am saved to do good works, saved from my enslavement to sin, saved to live a life of freedom from pride, greed, lust, maerialism, hate, violence, judgment, etc. That is, in my mind, what God's kingdom is about.
Second, I don't believe that anyone "goes to heaven." From my understanding, that is a Platonic, not Christian, concept. I do believe that there will be a bodily resurrection. So if I speak of the afterlife, I am talking about participating in the resurrection of the dead and the renewal of all creation.
When I think about the cross, my first thought is about what was handed to me by my ancestors. The view that I inherited of the cross was that it was all about atoning for our sins so that we could "go to heaven" when we die. Jesus was a sacrifice, slain to appease the uncompromising justice of God the Father, who always demands payment for sins. As I reflect on this view in light of my current point in my journey and my current reading of the Bible, I still accept the atoning value of Jesus' death on the cross. However, I don't really see the idea of a wrathful God torturing an innocent man in the name of divine justice. One, it does not seem consistent with God, who is by nature loving, merciful, and forgiving. Two, it makes God out to be a helpless slave to his own warped sense of justice. It's like He'd really like for there to be another way, and He hates to crush poor Jesus, but oh well, justice demands it. Isn't He supposed to be God? C'mon.
That brings me to my current view of Jesus on the cross, which is multifaceted to say the least. I want to explore three concepts.
First, and least theological, is the fact that Jesus got exactly what we should expect him to get. He challenged the religious and political powers of his day. He usurped their ideas about power and status. He was a revolutionary who took every chance he could get to get in the face of the religious establishment. Think about what he did in the temple. Jesus was crucified because he pushed too hard on the wrong people. If we follow him, we should expect some suffering, too.
Second, I deeply value Paul's writings about how on the cross, Jesus disarmed the principalities and powers. He took all evil onto himself, but absorbed it and died peacefully and without hate. It's like evil retains its power as long as people pass the evil around. But like a sponge, Jesus absorbed all the evil that the world could throw at him, and by not sinning himself, he rendered the powers impotent. The political powers and fallen religious powers did their worse on Jesus and failed. Thus, their power was broken. He disarmed them by innocently suffering at their hands. He brought victory over their curse.
This segues into my third thought, which is a tweaked view of atonement. Because Jesus rendered the principalities powerless, we are now free from our bondage to them. I can be a forgiving, loving, compassionate, unselfish, merciful, humble, righteous person thanks to Jesus disarming the powers. I am saved and redeemed. To what? Resurrection? Well, yeah. But more than that, to live a kingdom of God life right where I am. Jesus made up for my failure by living the way I never could, and now I have power to follow him the way I otherwise would be unable to. And it isn't just me, and I don't think it's just Christians. Any place I look and see God's Spirit moving in people to do his work, I can affirm that it was made possible by Jesus disarming the evil powers of this world. In that way, the whole world - Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, whatever, had benefitted from Jesus' sacrifice.

You Must Unlearn What You Have Learned

2005-08-01T12:21:00.000-07:00

I love that line from "The Empire Strikes Back." I feel like that's what I've been doing for the past 2 or 3 years: unlearning what I had learned.
Last night I had a discussion with a few friends about status. As a conservative white male, it's easy for me to pick out what people unlike me do to flaunt their status. Take young African-American guys. They put obscenely large wheels on their SUVs. They wear "bling" around their necks. They put speakers in their trunks that are just ridiculously loud. All to appear cool; to show the world that they have achieved a measure of success. To "represent."
But then I think about people like me. We do the same thing, but in a different way. We love our cars, too. We buy a BMW when you can get a Honda Accord for $20,000 less. We live in houses that have way too much square footage. We pay extra for everything from light fixtures to Birkenstock sandals. We do it do put forth a certain image. We're cool. We've got money and status.
Jesus said that we have to unlearn that stuff. Abundance of possessions does not equal a quality life. With regard to status, Paul said that it was all garbage. With regard to identity, he said he would only boast about the cross.
The trick is repenting of our worldy ideas about status and trusting, really trusting in Jesus' agenda that it's better to let it go. Drive a crappy car and give money away. Don't have loud speakers. Wear cheap knock-off sandals.
The point is not that there's anything good or bad about BMWs and bling and fancy light fixtures. The point is that it's chasing after the wind. That stuff will never be sufficient to give you the identity you're looking for, so just let it go.

What's the Big Deal?

2005-07-28T12:50:00.000-07:00

An interesting, albeit a bit abstract thought just hit me. Hypothetically speaking, let's assume that I believe that some non-Christians will go to heaven. That is, that some good Buddhists, Hindus, Muslims, and savages will be saved from hell, even though they don't "know Jesus." Assume that that is my position. Oh yeah, also assume that there is a heaven and hell.
Now, let's assume that I express to some of my more conservative friends and family members my belief that you don't necessarily have to "know Jesus" to go to heaven. I can guarantee with near 100% certainty that these people will be worried about me. (They probably already are). They will not like it that I don't think that all people who don't accept Jesus will go to hell.
So the interesting question is why? Why would it worry them that I don't think that all non-Christians will burn? I never said that I don't believe in Jesus. Assume that I still go to church, read my Bible, pray. Assume that I don't smoke, drink, swear, or fornicate. I love Jesus so much that I put a fish on my car. I hang out with Christians. Jesus and church and everything remain very important to me.
Given all this, why would anyone worry about me? I'm a Christian. So why would it bother the more conservative group that I think that some non-Jesus people will be "saved?" But it would. They would be very concerned. And for the life of me I don't know why. Why would this be so troublesome for them?
Can anyone relate?

You Can Learn Alot in Prison

2005-07-26T08:59:00.000-07:00

Two friends and I went to the prison last Sunday night to worship and fellowship with the believers there. It was one of the best experiences I have had so far in prison ministry. We prayed for a while with a few men who had some heavy concerns about family members who were in legal trouble. The men bear burdens for their families that are made more difficult to bear by the fact that they rarely see their loved ones. The prayer time was rich, and I felt like it drew us together.
Then we went to the main chapel for a time of worship. Our group conducts worship differently from most other groups, I suspect. We try to have discussions rather than sermons. Last month we talked about the cost of discipleship, and we contrasted Jesus' teachings with some of the health and wealth preachings of TV evangelists. Unfortunately, I think I may have stepped on some toes.
So this month I apologized, but wanted to continue talking about what God wants for us, assuming it's not primarily for us all to be rich and successful by the world's standards.
Several men said things about obedience, submission, seeking first God's kingdom, and holiness. I countered that all of those answers indicate that God wants us to be like him. We looked at a portion of Jesus' sermon on the plain as an illustration of how that would look.
One guy, a regular at our services, responded that it's easy to say "turn the other cheek," but awfully hard to do. Amen. I commented that if it was up to me, I would never turn the other cheek. Luckily it isn't up to me, now that Christ has defeated the power of sin and left us his Holy Spirit. It is by the power of the Spirit that we can overcome our natural tendency to protect ourselves and seek revenge and instead allow ourselves to be taken advantage of. Paul said that while it was up to him, he did the things he didn't want to do and failed to do the things he did want to do. He was a slave. But by the Spirit's power, he no longer lived in Romans 7, he lived a Romans 8 life.
We ended by talking about the freedom you experience when you turn the other cheek and don't demand back from someone something they have stolen from you. You are no longer a slave to retaliation. You can let it go. People can say bad things about you, but you don't have to get back at them. They can disrespect you, but it doesn't matter to you because you handed your reputation over to God a long time ago. So there's nothing anyone can do to you. You don't care about your stuff, because your treasure isn't measured by the abundance of your possessions. You are free in every way, which is the gift Jesus came to bring. No one can kill you because you're already dead to yourself.
That is good news, indeed, especially in prison, where theft and violence abound. If I could live that kind of a life. Man. There is real power there, right in the middle of apparent weakness. In that prison chapel, surrounded by murderers, rapists, kidnappers and other assorted thugs, the gospel started to make some real sense.

Notes from Class

2005-07-22T12:17:00.000-07:00

Since I set up this little blog for my own selfish reasons, see "My Special Purpose," I just want to jot down some notes that I took in a Sunday school class a few weeks ago so that I can throw the scribbled-up piece of paper away. The class is focused on the books of Luke and Acts, with a particular emphasis on prophecy.
Pride, greed, lust, and perhaps selfishness, above all, are signs of man's fallen state. These indications of our fallen-ness beg the question, do we have it in ourselves to overcome them? That is, I am able, of my own force of will, to turn away from selfishness, greed, power in relationships, etc.?
If the answer is yes, I am so able, that raises the question, did Jesus have to die? Paul seems to think that Jesus, in his death, defeated the principalities and powers and freed humanity from their control. See Romans 7 and 8. Paul seemed to think that his enslavement to sin, i.e., pride, lust, need for power, was out of his control. That is to say that humanity is incapable, and incompetent, to do better. Thus, part of what Jesus accomplished was freeing us from that bondage.
The flip side of Paul's theology in this regard is that the Holy Spirit, a sort of "guarantee" given as a result of Jesus' victory, is the key to humans living outside of their normal, selfish, sinful tendencies. Apart from the inner-working of the Holy Spirit, humans are incapable of living well.
As an example, the apostles failed miserably while Jesus was among them. They never could shake free of their enslavement to selfishness, pride, and power-hungry-ness. However, when they received God's Spirit, they were markedly changed. They, in fact, turned the world upside down.
Assuming that this perspective on the fallen state of man is correct, and assuming that the Holy Spirit is the key to living a life free from sin, selfishness, lust, etc., it raises the question of how can we explain people who, seemingly apart from Jesus or the Holy Spirit, are living selfless, sacrificial, distinctly Christ-like lives. For example, how should Jesus people view someone like Ghandi?
Ghandi, apparently apart from what I would at least in the past consider Christianity, seemed to step outside of normal human tendencies and love his neighbor as himself. In the class, this fact created some tension.
I wonder whether my puzzling over someone like Ghandi, who was living a Jesus-type life apart from the church, betrays the arrogance and exclusivity of my position that only "Christians" can do good things. Am I so prideful that I think that only people who look like me can be about God's work? Am I puzzled by Angelina Jolie, whose values really don't seem to line up well with those of most church people I know, but who is hard at work fighting for the rights of impoverished peoples around the world and who has even adopted two needy children? Is it possible that God's Spirit is at work in her, enabling her to step outside of her normal tendencies, even though she does not fit the mold of what I would normally consider "Christian?"
I offer no trite answers. However, the discussion has awakened in me the realization that God is bigger than I realized. He is working in places that I never could have anticipated. He is not so small that He can only work through church people. His Spirit is in many places, apparently even in people that have not bought into Christian beliefs.
I pray three things. First, that I would not be so arrogant as to think that you have to be part of my group to live in a Christ-like way. Second, that I would not harbor a small view of God, but that I would come to see him as being able to work anywhere, in anyone, regardless of their faith or belief system or lack thereof. Third, that I would have eyes to see God at work, so that rather than judge others because they are not of my group, I can affirm their work and say that whoever is not against Christ is for him.

Prince of Division?

2005-07-20T09:15:00.000-07:00

Last Friday I read in Luke's book how Jesus warned that he would bring division, that in a family of five, three would be divided against two. I have always read this passage thinking that Jesus meant that the ones who followed him and became disciples would be divided from the ones who chose not to follow.
However, in my experience, Jesus sometimes even divides groups of people who all wear his name. When a person seeks to take Jesus' teachings seriously, to allow him to become not just their "Savior" but their "Lord" as well, that person becomes separated from other Christians who are unwilling or perhaps unable to take such a step.
As an example, I offer the teacher at my church who discussed Jesus' gritty teachings on pacifism, money, etc. He was divided from some in the class who were not receptive to such a radical life. In fact, an elder publicly rebuked the idea that Jesus' purpose was to be an example, rather than merely an atoning sacrifice.
When a person really falls in love with Jesus and swears absolute allegiance to the kingdom of God, it is counter-cultural and appears foolish. People, even believers, may think that the person has gone off the deep end.
It reminds me of how Jesus' own family thought he was crazy. It reminds me of how Jesus pointed to the prophets, whom God's people rejected, or worse, killed.
A transformed life is a threatening thing. Values turn upside down, conversations change in nature, world views shift, old paradigms give way to a new way of living.
But is this not what Jesus called his followers to? To a new vision, a new and better way of being human? To challenge the status quo? Surely it is not just a matter of attending church services, giving intellectual assent to a set of abstract doctrines, and living an otherwise good an moral life.
But to really follow, to really be a student of Christ, to really be a conduit through which God's kingdom breaks into the world has consequences. A life so lived will speak judgment on all people who are not walking that way, whether they be pagans or fellow Christians.

Unwanted Prayer

2005-07-19T07:12:00.000-07:00

Walking to my car from my office yesterday, I saw a funny thing. A young, nicely dressed black woman and a homeless man were standing on a street corner, and she was holding both his hands in hers. She was praying loudly in the spirit of Jesus against the forces of evil in his life. The poor man looked miserable. He looked right at me as I walked by as if to say "Help me. This crazy woman won't stop praying."
Now I feel confident that this woman has a great heart and is a fine Christian, and I do not judge her motives. But the whole scene was pretty absurd.
I don't pretend to know how the two of them came to be holding hands on that street corner, but in my imagination, it went something like this:
As the woman walked by the man, he asked her for money. Rather than give the man money, since he may have used it to buy alcohol, which only contributes to his dire circumstances, she offered to pray over him. Not expecting this response, the man was at a loss for words. Before he knew it, she had both his hands and was attracting unwanted attention by praying loudly to Jesus for all to hear. So now the poor guy isn't getting a dime, and this woman won't shut up or let go of his hands.
I should add that I don't think that praying is a bad idea. I support praying in general and praying specifically for the poor, hungry, oppressed, alcoholic people around the world. In fact, I want God to cultivate in me a heart more devoted to prayer. I want to get better at it and learn more about it and be transformed through it.
But this whole scene was just weird to me. Maybe the woman thought she was offering the man a blessing, but boy he looked miserable. Maybe prayer was what the man really needed, but he sure didn't seem to want it.
So, based on this little experience, I commit to never praying over a street person unless they ask me to. I'll try to give a little money when it is asked of me, and I may offer a "God bless you" as they walk away. But I will not cram a prayer down someone's throat when what they've asked from me is spare change.

J.C. in '08

2005-07-15T08:21:00.000-07:00

"Jesus is Lord." That phrase rolls right off my tongue. It sounds pretty in song. It fits on a bumper sticker. But thanks to N.T. Wright, I've been rethinking what Paul may have meant when he coined the phrase.
It was common in Paul's day to say "Caesar is Lord." Saying it affirmed Caesar's role as the leader of the world. In fact, it even attributed to Caesar divine status. So, as Wright carefully points out in several of his books, when you said that Caesar is Lord, you were making both a political and theological statement.
Paul then takes the title of Lord away from Caesar and gives it to Jesus. When Paul wrote "Jesus is Lord," his readers would have known exactly where he got that phrase, and they would have known the implication: "Caesar is not Lord." Now all of a sudden it gets clearer why Christianity was a threat to Rome. Caesar wants to rule his universe with absolute power; he wants unwavering loyalty from his subjects. And here is this Paul guy and his followers saying that Jesus, not Caesar, is Lord. Caesar, you may think you rule the world, but Jesus really does. You may think you're a king, but Jesus is the King of kings. You may think you have power, but Jesus has the real power.
Fast forward two thousand years. Caesar's kingdom has fallen; Christ's kingdom remains (albeit looking a bit unhealthy at times). Since we have no Caesar, how can we recapture the scandalous claim "Jesus is Lord?" Well, what if you saw a guy in church wearing a t-shirt that said, "Jesus is President." The implications would be obvious to us. Jesus is President; therefore, Bush is not. It seems that Bush is the most powerful man in the world, but in reality Jesus is. W. appears to lead the free world, but in fact Jesus does. Obviously the t-shirt wearer feels no allegiance to Bush, for his loyalty lies with the true "President." Again, the political ramifications, just as they were two millenia ago, would be huge. It would be scandalous.
I submit that saying Jesus is President is closely akin to saying Jesus is Lord in Paul's day, but maybe without the theological implications. It is a statement about loyalty and allegiance. It is the juxtaposition of Christ's kingdom of love, mercy, humility, compassion, forgiveness, and grace against a worldy kingdom of greed, materialism, and military conquest. It is raising Christ's kingdom above anything a government could offer, for God's politics consist of freeing the captive, feeding the hungry, forgiving debts, raising up the lowly, blessing those who curse you, selling possessions, hungering for righteousness.
Hearing the words "Jesus is President" rubs me a bit, and I don't fully understand why. Part of it, I think is because it is saying something about Jesus that we seldom hear, but that was central to Paul's discipleship. On the surface, it sounds silly, because obviously Jesus is not president, just as he was not lord of the Roman Empire. But deeper, it creates this tension that there is a kingdom not of this world that is more real than even the office of President. This kingdom is breaking into human history, and people are being shown that there is a different way of living, a different way of being human, a way to be fully human. And we see this new way of living, this reign of God, in Jesus. And no empire or democracy of this world is as real as walking the way that Jesus did. For those who truly learn to follow, there is no Lord but Jesus, there is no President but Jesus. Every other position of leadership is but a shadow compared to the Servant Leader with whom our allegiance lies. No wonder Caesar was threatened by Paul's claims. I wonder how any of the American presidents would react to the guy wearing the t-shirt.

Hurry Up and Wait

2005-07-12T12:29:00.000-07:00

As I've been chewing on the notion of being missional, that is, leaving the comfort of the church walls to invite the world to embrace the good news about the kingdom of God, I have been made aware that I don't know how to do it. I am a church person. Historically, church people invite others to come to us in order to be saved or something. We even have an invitation at the end of the sermon in case anyone wants to be prayed over, confess a sin, or be baptized. That's what I've grown up with.
However, there is a large segment of the population that just is not going to respond to the kind of invitation modern churches would extend. No matter how sound our theology, no matter how entertaining our preacher, no matter how pleasant our worship, no matter how good our children's program, these folks will not darken our doors. No picnic or sign or campaign will change that. Thus, as my teacher suggested, we must go to them. The question we face, then, is how?
As of yet, I don't think there are any easy how-tos. What I'm left with is God. Some of my thinking about the Holy Spirit has been infuenced by Jim Cymbala's book "Fresh Power." It seems to me that we must rely heavily on God's Spirit to accomplish through us what we don't know how to do ourselves. No amount of thinking or reading or talking is going to give me the wisdom I need to know how to embrace the world with the message of Jesus. But if I rely on the inner workings of God's Spirit, whom I have recently been reminded causes me to step outside of my normal, sinful tendencies, then God should be able to work through me to accomplish his ministry of reconciliation.
So, my first order of business as I consider step number three in my teacher's lesson is to get ready to wait. If I know that I have no wisdom when it comes to mission, that I bring nothing to the table, then it is of vital importance for me to wait on God. I must meet with others who feel a similar pull and spend quiet time in meditation and prayer. I must fast. I must put aside my propensity to take action, to take the initiative, to get the ball in motion, and instead be still with others and pray.
That is what I want to begin doing. I'm praying that God will lead me to the right people to wait with.

More Jedi Wisdom

2005-07-11T07:38:00.000-07:00

Last week I heard my old mentor, who I think of as kind of a Jedi, speak two more times at my college alma mater's annual lectureship. The first lesson he gave was taken from Romans 8, where Paul writes that God is constantly working in all things for good. This lesson was especially timely because it was given the night before the London bombings.
The second lesson was about God's mission in the world. My teacher stated that the church must do three things if we are to partner with God in his mission to rescue the world.
1. Recapture our story. It's not about approving or disapproving of certain activities. It's not about uniformity of thought. It's not about soundness of doctrine. It's not about judging who is in or out. It's about love, compassion, forgiveness, generosity.
2. Live out our story. Here my mentor said something that will stick with me for a while. We have accepted such a cut-rate form of Christianity that we have lost all credibility in the world. We have got to live out our story so effectively that homosexuals and Hindus and people who've had abortions and rich people and poor people all know that Jesus people will lay down their lives for them.
3. Go out to the world because the world is not going to come to church. This means getting out of mainstream church culture and engaging society on its terms. But to do this, we must have such a clear sense of our story. My teacher warned that this third step will be scary and messy and riddled with failure. He added that there are no experts yet in how Jesus people should engage a post-modern world, but that it is time to try. I have been thinking on this third point and talking about it with others ever since.

Addendum to Yesterday

2005-07-08T07:39:00.000-07:00

Interesting comments to my post yesterday. Perhaps my tone was too harsh and my comments too broad. Sorry.
I concede that my church is participating in and supporting some important Kingdom work, such as the Made in the Streets ministry in Nairobi, Kenya. Personally, every dime that my wife and I give at our church we give to that program.
However, as I tried to make clear yesterday, I am very frustrated that nothing has been said at my church about the G8 Convention. Yes, my church sends support to some good causes. But the plight of sub-Saharan Africa has never been as public as it is right now, and we're not talking about it from the pulpit. There are some 800 people at my church, many of whom may be ignorant of the overwhelming poverty in Africa or the efforts that are being made to turn the tide. Education is so important to facilitating change, and I'm not getting educated at church. No mention has been made of a single relief organization like Compassion International or Save the Children where church members could send support if so inclined. At a time when global poverty is most visible, my church has been quiet on the subject.
So, rather than just go on complaining, I just emailed three of my church leaders about my feelings that this is a topic that we need to be talking about. We'll see what happens.

Heads in the Sand

2005-07-07T09:04:00.000-07:00

I remain hopeful about the future of the church, but not in its present form. I find myself increasingly frustrated with the church, my home congregation in particular. As I have stated before, I believe that churches like the one I attend are becoming culturally irrelevant, and the time for a new way of doing church is here.
For example, nothing has been said at my congregation about the G8 Convention. No one has explained to the body what the G8 Convention is, that it is a gathering of world leaders to discuss the plague of poverty in Africa. No one has bothered to mention the One Campaign or how they have organized a push to pressure world leaders to increase foreign aid to impoverished nations and erase the debts owed by those nations. Nothing was said about lending our support by signing the petition on the One's website or making donations or anything. Nothing. Not a word.
This strongly indicates to me that we, as a body, are socially irrelevant. We bury our heads in spiritual themes, such as salvation by grace through faith, we sing little songs and pray little prayers, taking life easy until we get to fly away to heaven.
Meanwhile, out in the world an effort is being made to feed the hungry, heal the sick, and clothe the naked. That is to say, that people are pushing for Christ's work to be done in Africa, and not only does my church not lead the effort, not only does my church not jump in and get involved, my church won't even recognize it! We won't mention it! We are collectively ignoring the whole damn thing!
After all, we have songs to sing about these being the Days of Elijah. We have lessons to preach about how controversial Jesus was. We have announcements to make about upcoming church events.
Thank God there are celebrities who are willing to do the church's work.

American Idol

2005-07-01T08:33:00.000-07:00

The following is a rant. Therefore, a disclaimer is necessary in the event that anyone happens to read it. If you consider yourself at all patriotic, if you fly an American flag or have a "Support the Troops" sticker on your car, don't bother reading any further. If you pledge allegiance to the flag or served in th military or enjoy Lee Greenwood's music, stop reading. If you generally regard America as a Christian nation or think that the First Amendment is something we should fight to defend, stop reading.
Okay.
Since July 4 is just around the corner, I am reminded of how troubled I am at Christians who are patriotic. I perceive it as idolatry. I have been at church services where songs have been sung about America. I have seen American flags next to pulpits. I have seen signs reading, "JesUSAves." I hear about a church that displayed a video on Memorial Day weekend that featured images of Jesus, an American soldier, a firefighter, and a policeman. Images of American military equipment were interspersed among images of the cross, which was juxtaposed against the American flag. At the end, Jesus' name was emblazened in red, white, and blue.
I should add that I have no problem with ordinary people being patriotic. But I believe that for people who have sworn their allegiance to the kingdom of God to blatantly bow down at the altar of American patriotism is sinful. Our allegiance should only be to God; no one can serve two masters. And there is a big difference in God and his kingdom and the USA, which is very much of this world.
Part of what is so repulsive to me about "patriotic Christians," which I regard as something of an oxymoron, is the arrogance with which they speak of the dirt they stand on. For example, a couple of months ago an idiot stood up in front of my church, and with no prompting or preview, began to explain how the fact that America had been attacked, presumably on September 11, 2001, indicated that we were living in the last days. Apparently America's wholesale slaughter of the Indians indicated nothing. The genocide in Rwanda was of no cosmic significance. But when America is attacked, watch out! The four horsemen of the Apocalypse on on their way. As I said, the arrogance and self-centered-ness are appalling.
Someone may ask me, don't I enjoy being free? My response is that my freedom was not paid for by men with guns and bullets. The church thrived and the gospel spread quite well under ruthless emperors who did not recognize freedom of speech or religion. America will fall, as all kingdoms of this world have, but Christ's church will remain.
I pray that more Christians will break out of the patriotic brainwashing and perceive that while good things can be said about America, America remains a kingdom of this world. And like all worldly kingdoms, it is opposed to the way of Christ, the way of the cross. Jesus stands for peace. America engages in war. Jesus calls people to give. America, and capitalism, are about greed. Jesus people surrender power. America is power-hungry.
Some would argue that America is the greatest country in the world. That may be so, but it misses my point. America is of this world, and Christ's kingdom is not. I can only pledge allegiance to one kingdom, and if I love the one, I must despise the other.

Life is Short

2005-06-30T08:50:00.000-07:00

Yesterday my wife's paternal grandmother was laid to rest. A good friend in our small group kept our baby. Several older women from the grandmother's church prepared wonderful food for the family. Many people attended the memorial service.
I have reached a point in my journey where I enjoy funerals. They remind me of several lessons. First, our time here is brief, so we should make it count. It makes no sense to waste our lives chasing after material things or prestige or high-powered careers when we could be focused on loving and caring for people around us. Second, funeral remind me that community is a blessing. Having people to watch your baby and prepare your food and give you a handshake or a hug is a gift of God. Finally, I am reminded that death is not the end. Although my notions of heaven have changed dramatically, I still think that God will make all things new, and we will enjoy his glory. For those reason, funerals have become something I kind of enjoy.

Ruining Church

2005-06-27T07:30:00.000-07:00

In the first line of the foreword to "An Arrow Pointing to Heaven," which is a book about the life of Rich Mullins, Brennan Manning wrote, "Jesus of Nazareth ruined Rich Mullins's life."
I love those words. They sound like something Jesus would have said, that he would ruin your life. I think that phrase succinctly states in language that we can understand just how scandalous are Jesus' statements about dying to ourselves, losing our lives, and taking up our crosses. To the degree that you desire to follow Jesus, he will ruin your life. Whatever you thought your life was going to look like, it won't. Whatever your goals were, they will be changed. What used to be important now is not. Your agenda is left behind in favor of the kingdom of God. Your life as you knew it is ruined.
I thought about all this in the context of what my teacher had to say on Wednesday night. I think it is equally true to say that Jesus ruins church. Whatever I expected church to look like or be about, he ruins. He ruins my notions of the kind of people that should be at church or what they should have to do to be part of the church. All that is left is Jesus' own radical vision of a community of sick and oppressed people being healed and freed and then welcoming other sick and oppressed people, no strings attached. The whole thing is messy and silly-looking and may seem to be an utter failure, much like Jesus' own ministry. But if we allow Jesus to ruin church the way Rich allowed Jesus to ruin his life, we could find church is all of the sudden relevant in this world.

Last Night

2005-06-23T11:18:00.000-07:00

My old mentor did not disappoint. Although I thought he would discuss practicing the spiritual discipline of simplicity in a materialistic world, he took simplicity in a different direction. He talked about simplifying our faith.
He took us to the parable of the prodigal son in Luke 15. He pointed out that we Christians, like the Jewish leaders of his day, were like the older son, not wanting to join the party because people are there who we think don't deserve to be. My teacher said that it makes our faith much more complicated when we try to figure out who should be at the party and who should not or what people need to do to gain admittance to the party. Jesus' point is that God is having a party, and we should throw open the doors and welcome everyone - the gay couple, the woman who had an abortion, the kid with the piercings, the Iraqi.
My professor said that this will make church messy; it may look like a train wreck; but it sure simplifies things for us older brothers. I think the underlying point here is that church people have been trying for so long to take care of church matters, to keep church looking nice and clean. But caring for the church is Christ's job. If it gets messed up, and it will, it's his responsibility. If the people at the party act up or break something, it's okay. It's his party. He's driving, and he's keeping the bus in the middle of the road. My only job is to have fun, to love people, to invite people to the party.
My teacher said that he cares about less now than he ever has before. I can relate. I used to care about all sorts of doctrinal issues and how you do worship and stuff. My teacher says that he only cares about 2 things now.
1. How is the Spirit of God transforming me more into an authentic, faithful, counter-cultural disciple of Jesus who stands out from the world around me?
2. How is the good news of the kingdom of God penetrating the surrounding culture?
That certainly does simplify things a bit.
Doing church this way may be messy and unpredictable and alot of other things. But it is good news indeed that there is room for everyone at God's party.

It's No Bad Thing to Live a Simple Life

2005-06-22T09:34:00.000-07:00

I'm really excited because one of my old Bible teachers and mentors will be at my church tonight talking about living simply in a complicated world.
The spiritual discipline of simplicity is so attractive to me, yet it proves most elusive. Although I want to scale down, not buy as much stuff, not run after the latest fashion or gadget, think about my needs rather than my wants, it is difficult to put into practice when so many people around me seem to be running after careers, houses, cars, the American Dream, whatever.
It dawned on me as I was eating cereal this morning that so much of our lives become complicated because we care about our image, about what others think of us. I thought about this while my neighbor was installing subwoofer speakers in the trunk of his car. His car already has fancy wheels. The speakers were rattling the windows of my little house. I thought to myself, "Why?" Speakers and wheels are expensive and take time to install. Does anyone need speakers that loud? Wheels that large? Clearly the answer is no, but they make people think that their owner is cool or rich or something.
Although I don't have big wheels on my truck, and I have no radio since mine was stolen a few months ago, I do things and want things to make people think better of me. It seems that if I could be comfortable with myself and not care what others think, that I would be in a better position to embrace a life of simplicity. Monks, who model simplicity so well, don't give a rip what the world thinks; they're out there to please God. But man it's hard to live like a monk in the middle of suburbia.

Church. Why Bother?

2005-06-21T13:54:00.000-07:00

Sometimes I rip off that title of the Yancey book and ask myself that question. Sometimes church seems so bizarre to me. For an hour on Sunday mornings we look at the back of each other's heads, pinch off a bit of cracker and wash it down with a tiny cup of grape juice, and sing high-sounding words that I don't usually mean. (See e.g., "I Will Give You All My Worship." Well, actually, no, I probably won't.)
Meanwhile, the world sleeps in and doesn't give a damn what we're doing inside our church walls; they think it's totally irrelevant, and I have a hard time arguing with them. Our little get-togethers on Sunday mornings certainly don't seem to pose much threat to the principalities and powers who are glad to see us sing and clap and raise our hands in our church buildings where we are safe, comfortable, and docile.
So, if this is church, this hour-long assembly on Sunday mornings, maybe none of us really need it. But if this is not church, or maybe I should say, if church is more than this, then we need to figure out how to do church as it was intended. We need a new paradigm of what church is and does and what a Christian is and does.
Sometimes I ask myself another question. If I found out today that it was all a farce - there is no God, Jesus was not the Christ, none of the stories are true, there is no afterlife, the world will never get better - would I still show up at church on Sunday morning. If I would, that to me is a pretty good indicator that whatever it is I'm doing on Sunday morning is not church. It's more of a social club. But church, it seems to me, is more than a social club. It is more akin to a rescue operation commissioned by God to partner with him to save the world from itself. God help me know how to participate.

Do You Want to Form an Alliance With Me?

2005-06-20T09:12:00.000-07:00

I was cutting my little yard on Saturday when I remembered something my wife had told me. One of her family members was at our house, and he saw that I was reading a book by N.T. Wright. He commented, "Preston likes Wright, huh? I'm more of a Borg man."
This got me thinking about the tendency church people have to allign ourselves with people we look like, agree with, think are smart or right or cool or sound or whatever. We are so prone to drawing lines and developing factions. Then we point the finger at other factions who are more conservative than we are, or who have a praise team, or who take the Bible too literally, or who let women say something, or who don't baptize right or don't take communion often enough and on and on and on.
Apparently all the line-drawing is nothing new. Paul wrote to the church at Corinth, "Some of you are saying, 'I am a follower of Paul.' Others are saying, 'I follow Apollos,' or 'I follow Peter,' or 'I follow only Christ.' Can Christ be divided into pieces?"
So this tendency toward developing factions predates N.T. Wright and Marcus Borg as well as the Church of Christ splitting from the Disciples of Christ and even the Protestant Reformation. With all of the internal bickering, is it any wonder that the world is not all that impressed with the church? Rubel Shelley writes about this in his book, "I Just Want to Be a Christian."
I hope I can teach my daughter not to allign herself with certain theologians or certain subsects that criticize each others' doctrines but fail to grasp the idea that the body of Christ should be united. Or maybe I'll just go get "I follow N.T. Wright" tatooed on my butt.

Maybe the Glass is Half Full

2005-06-16T07:24:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks ago my wife and I watched Diane Sawyer interview Brad Pitt. A small portion of the interview pertained to Jennifer Aniston, Angelina Jolie, and the new spy movie. The vast majority of the interview, however, centered on the rampant poverty in sub-Saharan Africa.
Sawyer accompanied Pitt to Ethiopia, where he had been before, to visit the starving people who only need food and the diseased people who only need the medicine that we can buy at the corner drug store.
Pitt talked to Sawyer about how global poverty could be a thing of the past if the richest governments in the world would make some changes and the wealthy citizens of the world decided to pitch in and help a little.
I was blown away by the interview and the media attention that is being drawn to the plight of the impoverished people of the world. Along with people like Bono and Oprah Winfrey, Pitt is using his celebrity to make people aware of an enormous problem that can be solved in our life times. Wouldn't it be something if it were?
In the event that anyone happens to read this, I'll post a few links.
www.one.org
This is the organization that Pitt and Bobo are really plugging. They have a petition people can sign which is requesting the U.S. government to send more aid to impoverished countries, forgive any debt owed by those countries, and alter some of our trade policies to benefit Third World nations. You can learn about the upcoming G8 Convention here.
www.thehungersite.com
With a click of your mouse, you can provide a little food for people who need it.
www.compassion.com
I love this organization because it introduced me to a boy named Ajith in India. You can sponsor a child, whch means food, health care, education, for about 30 dollars a month.
Peace.

Holiness v. Love

2005-06-15T07:38:00.000-07:00

That title is something of a misnomer, as holiness and love are not really antagonistic. In fact, I believe that God's holiness, that is, his different-ness, uniqueness, other-ness is due in no small part to the fact that his love is perfect, unconditional, and sacrificial.
But in my experience with humans, it seems that our notions of holiness and love are diametrically opposed to one another. For example, the Pharisees, who were all about outward holiness, had a big problem with Jesus healing diseased people, that is, doing what was unlawful to do on the Sabbath. Jesus responded that it was lawful to do good, i.e., to love, on the Sabbath. The Pharisses' notion of holiness wasn't big enough. They only cared about outward-based holiness, cleanliness laws and what not, but they had no love.
My thoughts along these lines were born out of a conversation I had with my parents in a Mexican restaurant. We were talking about how the church should react, for lack of a better word, to homosexuals. Historically the church has emphasized holiness as the answer. Conservative Christians like me determined that homosexuality was a sin, and we can't have that kind of sin in the camp because it would compromise the holiness of the church (luckily we can overlook greed, slander, pride, etc.), so our attitude is unless they put their sin behind them, they're lost and the church can't really worry with them. Naturally this has given homosexuals the impression that church people hate them.
It seems to me that Jesus seldom drew such a hard line. He certainly showed no hatred or judgment toward the woman accused of adultery. Just love.
The best story I can think of in which Jesus addressed the apparent tension between holiness and love is the story of the good Samaritan. The two Jews who pass by the beaten up guy on the road weren't just mean; they were worried about holiness. A good Jew back then couldn't just go around touching a bloodied, almost-dead guy. But the Samaritan threw those notions of outward holiness out the window and acted out of love to help the man. Jesus said that the Samaritan was the real hero.
Frankly, I think it's easier to pursue outward holiness than sincere love. It's easier to not drink or smoke or have premarital sex than it is to extend grace to people who don't give it back. With homosexuals, it's easier to judge and condemn them and not welcome them into our churches than it is to love, accept, and befriend someone who is different from me and who I do not really understand.
It's easier to angrily protest an abortion clinic than it is to offer to adopt the unborn baby. It's easier to insist on marriage being between a man and a woman than it is to address the lust and pornography and dishonesty that are ripping apart marriages right in the middle of our churches. It's easier to slap a "Support Our Troops" sticker on my car and patriotically support the war on terror than it is to turn the other cheek and seek to act out the golden rule toward people who live on the other side of the world.
Jesus taught his students about true holiness, holiness that manifests itself as love. He was not very interested in Sabbath commands or keeping the right company or ritualistic washing. He wanted people to be truly holy like God by loving, forgiving, being merciful, giving, being willing to peacefully endure suffering. Rich Mullins said it best when he sang the simple words, "It's Hard to Be Like Jesus."

Hell Reloaded

2005-06-14T12:18:00.000-07:00

As sort of a follow up, or sequel, to yesterday's thought, I want to discuss an underlying concept of the Christian theology that I grew up with. It is fundamental to the conservative Christian view of heaven, hell, and I would argue the nature of God. And yet I never heard it explicitly stated. It is, in my experience, a universal doctrine that is universally understood by virtually all the Christians I have known. It is so foundational that it almost goes without saying.
God is going to send everyone to hell.
That is, unless you "opt in" to heaven. This is the point of "salvation" as I grew up understanding it. God will send everyone to hell, unless you opt in to the Jesus plan. How you opt in is subject to some debate: you may need to be baptized, you may just need to say the sinners' prayer, or you may just need to accept Jesus as your personal Lord and Savior. Different groups have different takes on the manner of opting in, and they will defend their own view vehemently. But the interesting point to me is that it's pretty much a given in the church that I am familiar with that God is going to send everyone to hell, unless . . . .
Now that I'm a little older and have lived with God a bit longer, I have a tough time buying this. A good conservative Christian could debate me well on the point, saying that God, who is perfectly just, has no choice but to send people to hell to punish them for their sins. But God, who is also perfectly loving and merciful, has given us Jesus to atone for our sins so that we don't have to pay up ourselves. Great legal metaphor, I guess, but I see Jesus as more than a holy escape clause.
In his new book, Brian McLaren talks about God's justice as being merciful and his righteousness as being compassionate. This, he argues, is one reason Jesus bumped heads with the Pharisees, who were great at exacting justice but poor in mercy. He tells his followers that their righteousness had to surpass that of the Pharisees. The Pharisees didn't understand that God's justice is merciful. But that leads me to ask, "How can that be? How can God be both just and merciful?" Then I am reminded that he is God, and it's probably normal that I don't have him figured out yet.
Bottom line is I'm beginning to question the notion of God sending everyone to hell unless they "get saved." I'm not saying that I think everyone is okay no matter what. I'm not questioning my belief that Jesus died as a result of the sins of the world. I just think the story of the prodigal son provides a more accurate insight into the character of God than the legal metaphor of God as an angry judge who is going to punish someone come hell or high water. (Pardon the pun).

Who will go to hell the fastest?

2005-06-13T07:23:00.000-07:00

I got pretty mad while I was getting ready for church yesterday morning. I was watching this portly TV preacher talk about "Are You Saved?" It's part of a seven-lecture series. A couple of the other sermons were on how God is incapable of leaving you or forsaking you (I suppose unless he throws your ass into hell), and how you can pray until you're blue in the face, but if you don't do it in Jesus' name, God is not listening. Rather, I guess he's up in heaven with his holy fingers in his ears screaming "I can't hear you! I can't hear you!" Anyway, you can have your own copy of the series if you send him enough money. But I digress.
He used the parable, again, the parable, of the rich man and Lazarus to illustrate what he perceives to be literal truths about hell. For example, in hell, you are conscious. You know what is happening to you, why it's happening to you, and that it will never stop happening to you. You will also be aware of what is going on in heaven. While you hear people screaming in agony in hell, you'll also hear angels singing in heaven. You will also remember the naughty things you did that sent you to hell. For example, the murderer will remember his victims, as will the rapist. The liar will remember his falsehoods. The homosexual will remember his sex partner(s).
This stuff really bothered me. First, the parable was not told to tell us literal truths about hell. It was told to illustrate Jesus' disapproval of greedy people. But the preacher never once talked about hell (assuming there will actually be a place of eternal conscious torment) as being full of greedy people. Christians will rail against homosexuals, but we won't dare whisper about greed and materialism. Funny how often Jesus did.
In fact, as Rob Bell pointed out in his sermon entitled "The Salvation of Our Stuff," the quickest and most harsh punishment Jesus ever spoke of came not for an adulterer or murderer or homosexual, but for the man who had so much wheat that he had to build a bigger barn to hold it all. Jesus taught that God took that man's life that very night. Punishment was swift and unyielding. Why don't we talk about that?
The preacher closed by asking whether we were "saved," without defining that term. He asked whether his listeners had prayed the sinners' prayer. Interestingly, he did not ask whether we had hoarded stuff instead of being generous and caring for poor and hungry people.

Would I Follow?

2005-06-09T07:38:00.000-07:00

A thought that has been plaguing me for some time is if Jesus were to reappear today and do the things that he did years ago, would I follow him? I can assume that he would reserve some of his harshest criticism for people like me - churched, clean, educated - because those are the people he went after hardest the first time around. So would I be convicted by him and become his disciple, or would I be repulsed by him and criticize him because he didn't fit what my idea of Jesus, or a good Christian, for that matter, would look like?
Maybe I should frame the question another way. If Jesus were living today, doing what he did back then, would you want your kids hanging out with him?

Kid: I'm going to hang out with Jesus for a while.
Evangelical Christian Parent: Okay. Tell me a little about Jesus.
Kid: Well, he's this homeless construction worker from a backwater Tennessee town who has been roaming around preaching.
E.C.P.: Hmmm. What does he preach about?
Kid: Cool stuff about loving people, forgiving them, being peaceful, and how the reign of God is here. Oh, and he rails against conservative Christians. He says they're hypocrites who don't really love God.
Increasingly Concerned E.C.P.: Well, what are you planning to do with Jesus?
Kid: We're gonna go clubbing, hang out with some crack addicts, prostitutes, gang members. Remind them that God loves them and wants them to live the life he always intended for them.
Scared E.C.P.: Prostitutes? Clubs? Are you sure you want to hang out with this Jesus guy? Isn't there some sort of church function you can attend? Isn't the youth group going skating again or something?
Kid: I know it sounds a little strange, but this guy is so close to God, and he brings everyone who listens to him closer to God.
E.C.P.: Well, okay. But this Jesus person isn't trying to get you to do anything weird is he?
Kid: Of course not. Well, he did tell us that we need to eat his flesh and drink his blood if we want to have life in us, but that's about it.

The "Christian" Inquisition

2005-06-08T12:28:00.000-07:00

As exhibit three in my three part analysis of how the church as I am familar with it tends to always think it's right, I present a sampling of an email received by the worship minister at my church. He also leads a sort of worship group that does seminars and conferences all over the nation. He got an anonymous email from a group who was deciding whether to "endorse" one of his group's conferences. Here are a few of the questions posed by the anonymous group:
- How does your group define the steps necessary for eternal salvation?
- Who must one believe in as crucial for salvation? The God Father? The Holy Spirit? Jesus? Mary?
- Is baptism essential for salvation? If so, what type, "spirit baptism, "water sprinkling," "immersion baptism?"
- Is there a specific order of events for salvation?
- What type of worship do you endorse? Accapella singing, instrumental worship, speaking in tongues? etc.?

I guess those questions pretty well speak for themselves, but I will add a couple of thoughts. First, don't they indicate well how obsessed some church people are with determining who will and won't be "saved." (The group failed to define the term.) Second, don't they illustrate how important it is to Christians to be right? Here this group is, so confident of its own right-ness, that they're putting anonymous questions to my friend to see whether he's right. Ludicrous.
After reading McLaren's new book, it dawned on me that the reason that we all want to judge and condemn each other is because we are afraid that God will reject, judge, and condemn us. That thought is so upsetting that we suppress it by pointing at all the other people whom we think God will reject because they don't believe or worship or whatever like we do. Any time some group like this starts drawing lines over who is "saved," their group is always on the safe side. Deep down, this is a security issue, and the Bible is there to tell us that we don't have to fear God's rejection. He loves us - always. Therefore we can love others, instead of sending them anonymous surveys.

Sound doctrine in prison

2005-06-07T08:40:00.000-07:00

As further evidence that the church, at least the church with which I am familiar, thinks that it is right, I present this story.
I and a few of my friends work in the prison ministry at my church. We go to a maximum security prison to pray, study, worship, share communion and converse with men who have committed murder, rape, armed robbery, and kidnapping. It is not a glamorous ministry, but it makes me feel closer to God than pretty much anything else I do.
Mine is not the only church that visits the prisons. The men are exposed to a wide variety of Christian doctrine, and that sets the stage for what happened a couple of months ago.
After the service, one of the brothers approached me with a concern that groups were coming in to minister as we do, but these other groups were not teaching "sound doctrine." I tried to pinpoint what he meant, but he was evasive. All I got was that these groups are teaching about accepting Jesus for salvation, and he thought that they should be teaching that there's more to the Christian life than this. He wanted them to teach "meat," which I suppose is closely akin to "sound doctrine."
I tried to handle the situation as gently and lovingly as possible, but I am definitely not the best candidate to have that conversation, mostly because I am at a point in my life where I am suspicious of anyone claiming to have a "sound doctrine."
I tell that story for two reasons. First, because I can identify with this brother's thoughts. I grew up a fundamentalist, believing that how you believed was more important than how you lived. Therefore, anyone who differed from me doctrinally or theologically about something as simple as worship styles, much less baptism or communion, was in the wrong, needed correction, and was not part of my group.
Second, I tell the story not to make fun of the man's concerns, but to illustrate how pervasive is the problem of church people thinking that we've got it all figured out and anyone who disagrees with us is unsound. I tried to tell the man that according to my reading of the Bible, the most important doctrines are loving each other and being united in Christ. How strange it is that this poor man, rather than being thankful for the committed Baptists and Methodists and Presbetyrians who were coming to the prison to visit him as Jesus commanded them to do, judged them for not believing right.
I will conclude by pointing out that in John, when Jesus prayed to the Father for his students, he does not pray that God would make sure that they have a sound doctrine or theology. He prays for their unity. The evil one has been disturbing the unity of believers ever since. This he does because he knows that a unified body of believers would get the world's attention and would in fact change the world. In this age of post-modernity, everyone believes something, and no one is all that impressed. But they would be impressed if we dropped our denominational titles and our doctrinal hangups and started loving each other like a family. After all, the song does not state that they'll know we are Christians by our doctrine of baptism or the trinity or premillenialism or the role of women in the church. Rather, it states that "They'll know we are Christians by our love."

We're just guessing

2005-06-06T09:25:00.000-07:00

Rich Mullins once said that the Bible is useful because it humbles us into realizing that God alone is right, and the rest of us are just guessing. I want to spend some time exploring what I perceive to be a huge problem in the church, that we think we are right, too.
This week I will mention three ways that I have recently seen this train of thought manifest itself.
First, a few months ago a man taught a Bible class at my church. The man is well-educated and thoughtful, humble, sincere, and a lover of God. In fact, were I asked to identify a prophet, this man is one of the first two people who would come to my mind. The class was entitled Church as Culture. In the class, we discussed controversial topics such as pacifism, materialism, and how the church has frequently been assimilated into the larger culture in which it finds itself. One particular Sunday we were discussing the death of Jesus. The teacher opined that we have historically believed that Jesus' purpose was singular - atonement for the sins of the world. The teacher then expounded upon additional purposes for the life and death of Jesus - one of which was to be an example of how we should live. This line of thought met with some resistance, as it necessitates a call to tough action, whereas Jesus merely dying for our sins merits little more than intellectual assent and gratitude.
Fast forward a few weeks to a Sunday morning. One of the elders of my church gets up in the pulpit, and I kid you not, commences to combat the heresy that had been taught in that class that one of the primary reasons for Jesus living here was to be an example. The elder talked about not allowing the gospel to be perverted, that atoning for the world's sins was Jesus' singular mission.
Now, all theology aside, how unattractive is this? In my mind, the actions of this elder amount to one of the most disgusting, reprehensible things I have ever witnessed at a church. On one hand, it was very un-Christlike. If he had a problem with the teacher, he should have called him, emailed him, or bought him a cup of coffee. Instead, he took the cowardly way out, hiding behind the pulpit and his title of elder. He ended up really hurting the teacher's feelings.
On the other hand, it makes Jesus' people look like a bunch of fools. The elder assumed that we, with our limited intellect and capacity to understand the ways of God, can know beyond a shadow of a doubt what Jesus' mission was. So certain was the elder of his right-ness that he wasted no time jumping into the pulpit to set us all straight theologically.
MacGyver once said that only a fool is sure of anything. A wise man keeps guessing. I can't help but think that had a visitor been there that Sunday morning, he or she would have been very turned off by the display of arrogance, feigned wisdom, pride, and the lack of love. The church, just like the Pharisees, needs to learn that none of us is right. God is right, and we're just all guessing.

Like I was on the Emmaus Road

2005-06-03T08:32:00.000-07:00

The story of Jesus appearing to two of his followers on the road to Emmaus has become a very relevent story for me. Luke tells about the resurrected Jesus appearing to two of his students while they were walking down the road. Although they were his disciples, they didn't recognize him, even when he started talking about the role he was to play in God's story. Later they recognized him while they were eating, and they were elated.
I feel like most of my life I have been looking at a caricature or a parody of Jesus, while thinking it was really him. The Jesus I knew was soft and cozy and nice. He was a victim. He wanted me to be good and safe and happy. He had a far-away look in his eyes, and he talked like the guy with the afro who paints happy trees on public television.
I think I have not really known Jesus at all. Over time, we have smoothed out all his rough edges, just like water over a stone, so that now we can hold him in our hands with no discomfort. Upon reading what he really said when he taught his students and chastised the religious establishment, I am beginning to see that Jesus does not feel comfortable to me any more.
Turn the other cheek? Good in theory, but what about when somebody actually slaps you? Forgive seventy-seven times? Again, theoretically it sounds okay, but after forgiving for the third time, much less the fifty-sixth time, it could probably start getting old. Give to anyone who asks of me? What if the bum just wants to buy more booze? Sell my possessions? Take up a cross? Love people?
Jesus is starting to look a whole lot tougher when I start trying to let him teach me instead of just letting him "save" me. He is safe when he is my Savior. Sweet baby Jesus tucked away in a manger is a sweet picture because I know he was born to save the world. A bloody and broken Jesus tacked up on the cross is pretty non-threatening as well because I know he is taking my sins away. So the Savior Jesus is pretty much attractive.
But the Lord Jesus, the teacher Jesus, is different entirely. He's after me. He is making me uncomfortable with all that love your enemies stuff. He tells me that I can't serve God and money and that rich people seldom participate in the kingdom of God. Jesus as Lord is in my face, unwilling to compromise, searching my heart, tearing down and burning up anything in me that is not useful to him. He asks me to lose my life and turn away from everything to follow him. Somehow a flannelboard doesn't do this Jesus justice.
But much like the guys on the Emmaus road, I get really excited when I think that I'm seeing Jesus for what he really is, rough edges and all.

And Justice for All

2005-06-02T08:15:00.000-07:00

I had planned on beginning with sort of an introduction topic, but then I went to church last night, which gave me a little ammo for my first attempt at a Blog Thought.
Last night a female guest speaker spoke at my church about the Old Testament book of Malachi. She said alot about God's faithful love for his people and going to heaven - typical evangelical stuff. But she mentioned in passing that we, meaning church folks, aren't going to get what we deserve. She said that if God gave us what we deserved, we'd be obliterated from the face of the earth; we'd be reduced to little grease spots on our pew cushions. That's almost verbatim.
This got me thinking about God's justice and our reaction to it. My wife and I talked about this the whole way home. By the way, my thinking along these lines has been influenced by Brian McLaren's latest book, The Last Word and the Word After That. It strikes me that when we, white, middle-class, rich, American Christians, speak of God's justice, we do what the lady did last night, we talk about not getting it. We're not going to get what we deserve. We are going to evade God's justice, escape it, because Jesus died for our sins. Whew! Close one.
Now I'm not taking issue with the fact that I am a sinner who needs to be forgiven and I have, in fact, been forgiven by God. However, I am troubled by the fact that we do not talk about God's justice as something we long for as the Old Testament prophets did. They cried to God, asking for him to bring his judgment to this fallen world. We, on the other hand, seek to evade God's justice by appealing to his love and compassion and Jesus hanging on the cross.
I wonder if this is because we know that we are not on the side of God's justice. Were we poor street children starving in Kenya, God's justice might sound like a really good thing because it means that he will deal with all the callous rich people who indulged their every materialistic whim while we went without basic necessities like food and medicine. To anyone who is being oppressed, as Israel was while they were in exile, God's justice is a good thing. "Make things right, God! Punish the unrighteous! Vindicate us! Fix this broken world! Make right all the inequity!" It is the unrighteous oppressors that want to evade God's justice. And people like me have been the oppressors for a long time. Rich white men committed genocide against Native Americans, then stole land from the few that weren't killed. Then we kidnapped African Americans and forced them to work our plantations. Historically we have withheld rights from anyone we could - women, blacks, homosexuals. We consume the earth's resources with no thought of subsequent generations, and we build bigger houses, drive bigger cars, and have every conceivable gadget at the expense of others around the world. How many hungry kids could be fed with the money we spend on one fighter plane?
No wonder we talk of escaping God's justice! Our actions betray the fact that we are not on God's side! If we were, we would welcome his judgment. Instead, we just thank him for not reducing us to grease spots on our padded pews.

My Special Purpose

2005-06-01T09:06:00.000-07:00

The reason for me setting up this blog is mostly to have an account of my thoughts. Over the past two years or so, my thinking about God, faith, church, and being a student of Jesus has changed dramatically. I grew up a conservative Church of Christ kid thinking that the goal of the Christian life was to make it to heaven when you die. That's why Jesus went to the cross, that's why I was "saved," which to a church of Christer means baptized, and that's about all there is. The Bible, which was basically written by God, helps you know what you need to believe to make it to heaven. It's also good because it tells you how to be good while on the earth. It's basically God's little instruction book or rule book for us.
So, over the past couple of years, most of my thinking about such things has been dramatically altered. I see salvation much differently, I view Jesus, his life, teachings, death, and resurrction much differently, and I have a different opinion of the Bible. Mosty of the change has come about as a result of books I have read and conversations I have had. For some reason, I feel like the next step is for me to talk about my paradigm shift.
Therefore, the purpose of this blog is selfish. I need to get some thoughts on paper for some reason which hopefully will eventually be made clear. Should anyone visit this site, you are welcome to read and respond. But I want to be clear that this is not an attempt to give potential readers something to think about. I'm not wise enough to do that. This little blog is just a place for me to put my thoughts in case I ever want to retrieve them.

Preston's Thoughts

2005-06-01T07:15:00.000-07:00

This is only a test.