"He adopted us from slavery: it is a mercy to redeem a slave, but it is more to adopt him."
Thomas Watson - Body of Divinity
I find it very hard to argue with old Puritans like Watson. I don't care to debunk popular myths and "things everybody knows" about Puritans and this isn't an apologetic for their worldview - a view that is more broad minded than is commonly assumed. Plenty of able historians have shot fresh, disinfecting air through the predictable portrayals inflicted on us by deadly high school lit classes and over costumed, sepia toned witch trial movies.
Watson is always that welcome "one clear call for me". As with most Puritans, the main thing stays the main thing and precision nearly always marks what he has to say. I like Samuel Johnson, Addison, Steele, Swift and even Hemingway for the same reason: they don't almost say what they mean to say, they routinely hit the point squarely, forcefully and usually memorably.
It's sad that the Puritans and their descendants are known to most of us only from cartoony textbook portrayals of Jonathan Edwards and his very angry God, both of whom get their jollies seeing human souls dangling and shriveling like spiders over the flame. Sad. And inaccurate. Sadder still to think of scads of theological schools that never introduce ministerial students to such clear thinkers, most of whom wrote beautifully, preached powerfully and prayed still more powerfully. I could be wrong, but a quick look-around tells me modern church leaders could use healthy doses of what the Puritans are serving.
Without diminishing the time stopping miracle of redemption - being bought twice by the real time/space invasion of a God-Man - Watson quickly leads us to a room with zero wiggle space by contrasting it with the much less talked about but infinitely more remarkable God act of adopting humans.
Against our wills we've been trapped at a family reunion we didn't want to attend in the first place. Know-it-all uncles have pushed us against the wall with finger pokes and questions that sound like conclusions. Holding a wilting paper plate of three bean salad and devilled eggs (we just came for the food) we are endlessly harangued with questions, machine gun follow-ups about who is saved, how saved and for how long. We sweat and mumble unoriginal non-committal grunts and look around nervously for rescue.
It's been a 1500 year discussion about salvation when we should have been talking about the more amazing reality of adoption.
Statements, counter-statements, synods, church fights, councils, doctrine wars and books without number all dumb down the biblical declaration of redemption by a God of mercy to a take-it-or leave it insistence that salvation is where it's at and there's only a couple of ways to talk about it. Isn't it time to agree with Watson and end a 15 century exercise in missing the point?
Nobody but echo chamber trolls wants to hear another airtight exposition of salvation.
I'm begging you, no more arguments, please Uncle Bud! It's been hammered flat at this point and that's a real pity, because it was good a conversation at first, but that was a long time ago. It's time to pivot: there's a reality approaching fantastic that's light years beyond the salvation debates. Salvation is wonderful, but the real message of good has a quality beyond wonder and comprehension. The staggering, fairy tale truth for every human image bearer is that all of us have been included in the life of Father, Son and Spirit. Already! Our adoption is finished. It's the ultimate inclusion.
Here's the real kicker that can shut down all the tedious, time ragged arguments about who's saved, who isn't and who says so and at the same time splash the old world's sad face back to life with the bracing clarity of mountain fed living water: you're already included in the Relationship. They want you in the Dance! People everywhere are straining to hear the song of adoption by an ever inclusive Relationship of perfect harmony and love.
The adoption papers have been signed in the blood of Jesus. He really did pay it all! Now go tell somebody. Most importantly: go live it.
Saturday, February 29, 2020
Friday, February 28, 2020
What Whittaker Chambers Taught Me (Originally posted on Friday, November 8, 2013)
One of the more engaging books I've read lately has been Whittaker Chamber's controversial autobiography Witness. The Foreword, written as a letter of explanation to his children for his life and failings, is a remarkable stand alone piece, being a surprisingly strong testimony to the power of historic, biblical Christianity. I didn't expect to find Jesus there.
The bulk of the book is the story of his initial infatuation with, immersion in and eventual messy extrication from mid-century American communism. Chambers went as deeply into the belly of the beast as any American could go and became intimate with the inner workings and many of the party's major players. Curiously, it was his almost complete absorption into the the party that caused him to leave it.
A local news anchor once told me, in lament form, that he had gotten into the news business because he enjoyed being informed of current happenings and world events. He very much liked being an informed news consumer. However, broadcasting demands and production of three daily news programs left him no time to be more than casually acquainted with the news he was reporting. The system required that in getting the story out, the object of his love had to be checked. His passion took a back seat to the program.
I may be off base and subject to good correction, but the same thing is happening with the gospel of Christ - the supreme message of good. That stunning fairy tale like message that there is a perfect, eternal Relationship of love called Father, Son and Spirit who improves love the only way it can be - by sharing it with us. In spite of all our brokenness we are invited into what God is. The beast dies, we are rescued and we really do live happily ever after.
It seems that for the serious lover of Christ, one of the easier places to lose sight of Him and this amazing invitation is within one of the multi-layered systems that has built up around the gospel. Lots of elaborate, encrusted, Byzantine structures - denominations and para-church - have been painstakingly developed by the well meaning to propagate the message of good. Agencies, associations, denominational offices, task forces, mega-churches, and campaigns of every description, all with Christian underpinnings are sustained with enormous outlays of emotional and creative energies and tons of cash. They move mountains for sure, but not nearly with the ease Jesus said we could.
Maybe the well logoed organizations and carefully crafted systems are missing the Presence. It could happen..
It's a happy fact that the local church is the only organization of believers mentioned in the New Testament. Maybe that's because it's the best and only essential one. It's in that messy place and not within the efficient, well lit offices of strategists, demographers, bishops, superintendents and sages that the Presence and power of the Triune God best displays what He's all about. It's in the sometimes comical, sometimes tragic foibles of the local church that the creator of the rivers of living water speaks His invitation to satisfaction the loudest. It's where the thirsty soul hears it most clearly. The strong but crazy notion that within the local church family, serious seekers and bruised saints alike have the best chance to respond to the still, small Voice has been around for a long time. For good reason.
Chambers left the party because the treasure it was designed to preserve and propagate was misspent and squandered. It can happen with any human structure I suppose, even very good ones that do Jesus stuff. Maybe the Pearl of Great Price is not to be found in Christian TV, the various Vaticans and pseudo-Vaticans, denominational offices or agencies. Oh, sure, they can talk about Him in those places and how much He's needed outside those gleaming but expendable think-tanks. Still, it seems to me the local church is where it's at.
Now, if I could only convince over half of Americans who claim to be Christian, all the local churches would be bursting this weekend and the smart girls and guys trying to save the world from their busy beehive of cubicles could go on vacation. Or go to church.
The bulk of the book is the story of his initial infatuation with, immersion in and eventual messy extrication from mid-century American communism. Chambers went as deeply into the belly of the beast as any American could go and became intimate with the inner workings and many of the party's major players. Curiously, it was his almost complete absorption into the the party that caused him to leave it.
A local news anchor once told me, in lament form, that he had gotten into the news business because he enjoyed being informed of current happenings and world events. He very much liked being an informed news consumer. However, broadcasting demands and production of three daily news programs left him no time to be more than casually acquainted with the news he was reporting. The system required that in getting the story out, the object of his love had to be checked. His passion took a back seat to the program.
I may be off base and subject to good correction, but the same thing is happening with the gospel of Christ - the supreme message of good. That stunning fairy tale like message that there is a perfect, eternal Relationship of love called Father, Son and Spirit who improves love the only way it can be - by sharing it with us. In spite of all our brokenness we are invited into what God is. The beast dies, we are rescued and we really do live happily ever after.
It seems that for the serious lover of Christ, one of the easier places to lose sight of Him and this amazing invitation is within one of the multi-layered systems that has built up around the gospel. Lots of elaborate, encrusted, Byzantine structures - denominations and para-church - have been painstakingly developed by the well meaning to propagate the message of good. Agencies, associations, denominational offices, task forces, mega-churches, and campaigns of every description, all with Christian underpinnings are sustained with enormous outlays of emotional and creative energies and tons of cash. They move mountains for sure, but not nearly with the ease Jesus said we could.
Maybe the well logoed organizations and carefully crafted systems are missing the Presence. It could happen..
It's a happy fact that the local church is the only organization of believers mentioned in the New Testament. Maybe that's because it's the best and only essential one. It's in that messy place and not within the efficient, well lit offices of strategists, demographers, bishops, superintendents and sages that the Presence and power of the Triune God best displays what He's all about. It's in the sometimes comical, sometimes tragic foibles of the local church that the creator of the rivers of living water speaks His invitation to satisfaction the loudest. It's where the thirsty soul hears it most clearly. The strong but crazy notion that within the local church family, serious seekers and bruised saints alike have the best chance to respond to the still, small Voice has been around for a long time. For good reason.
Chambers left the party because the treasure it was designed to preserve and propagate was misspent and squandered. It can happen with any human structure I suppose, even very good ones that do Jesus stuff. Maybe the Pearl of Great Price is not to be found in Christian TV, the various Vaticans and pseudo-Vaticans, denominational offices or agencies. Oh, sure, they can talk about Him in those places and how much He's needed outside those gleaming but expendable think-tanks. Still, it seems to me the local church is where it's at.
Now, if I could only convince over half of Americans who claim to be Christian, all the local churches would be bursting this weekend and the smart girls and guys trying to save the world from their busy beehive of cubicles could go on vacation. Or go to church.
Least Favorite things (Originally posted on Saturday, October 26, 2013)
In a recent reply to a denominational leader asking for money, I signed off saying, "Great to hear from you, even if it was about my second least favorite topic." Since inquiring minds want to know, the follow-up question may never come: "What is the least favorite topic?"
For me, it's a tie between church growth and golf. I've played golf twice and though my golf christening was handled by nice friends who took pains to make it a good first experience, I found it stupefyingly boring. Boredom was relieved only by predictable tedium. Lovers of the game talk about the skill, reserve and control that make it the ultimate challenge. Green guilt is heaped on with the 'but at least you're in a beautiful setting' argument designed to keep people coming back to nature who don't really care for the activity. At the end of the day though, it's still golf. I don't care for it on any level.
The ecclesiastical-industrial complex that is church growth runs neck and neck with golf. In the world that is my mind and along the uneven, rock strewn Sylla and Charybdis archipelagos that are my own mental synapses, it appears to me that a lot of church growth experts are simply social engineers advocating their new and improved brand of social engineering. It looks to me like packaging and re-packaging predictable tips on moving groups of people around. The brick and mortar boys, program advocates, whiz kids and success story guys may tout different approaches and strategies, but they are a genetically distinctive and clever breed with a dominant characteristic. All of them are from-the-womb indenticals in their faint, passing or absent mention of Jesus' claim "I will build My church."
As with golf, I'll skip the tedium and predictability found in most church growth strategies. I think I'll let Jesus do His job. In spite of centuries long opposition from some truly despicable people, corrosive ideologies and albatrossing herself with the bad ideas and behaviors from some of her strange friends and fellow travellers, the church has defied all odds and survived. Genuine ekklesias - assemblies of the called out ones - can still be found behind, within, next to or at some distance from the big box worship centers and the airless and aging orthodox bastions of a by-gone era.
The church will survive because Jesus does the building and He builds to last. Golf may be around awhile longer too, but I'll be doing something else.
For me, it's a tie between church growth and golf. I've played golf twice and though my golf christening was handled by nice friends who took pains to make it a good first experience, I found it stupefyingly boring. Boredom was relieved only by predictable tedium. Lovers of the game talk about the skill, reserve and control that make it the ultimate challenge. Green guilt is heaped on with the 'but at least you're in a beautiful setting' argument designed to keep people coming back to nature who don't really care for the activity. At the end of the day though, it's still golf. I don't care for it on any level.
The ecclesiastical-industrial complex that is church growth runs neck and neck with golf. In the world that is my mind and along the uneven, rock strewn Sylla and Charybdis archipelagos that are my own mental synapses, it appears to me that a lot of church growth experts are simply social engineers advocating their new and improved brand of social engineering. It looks to me like packaging and re-packaging predictable tips on moving groups of people around. The brick and mortar boys, program advocates, whiz kids and success story guys may tout different approaches and strategies, but they are a genetically distinctive and clever breed with a dominant characteristic. All of them are from-the-womb indenticals in their faint, passing or absent mention of Jesus' claim "I will build My church."
As with golf, I'll skip the tedium and predictability found in most church growth strategies. I think I'll let Jesus do His job. In spite of centuries long opposition from some truly despicable people, corrosive ideologies and albatrossing herself with the bad ideas and behaviors from some of her strange friends and fellow travellers, the church has defied all odds and survived. Genuine ekklesias - assemblies of the called out ones - can still be found behind, within, next to or at some distance from the big box worship centers and the airless and aging orthodox bastions of a by-gone era.
The church will survive because Jesus does the building and He builds to last. Golf may be around awhile longer too, but I'll be doing something else.
Why Is Writing Good Therapy? (Originally posted on Wednesday, August 14, 2013)
It's happened again. That weird collision of unrelated events that leaves me emotionally spent and wishing my brain would shut down or go into energy saver mode for awhile. Lousy sleep, lousy appetite. Just getting through is the goal with little fun along the way.
It's not a guaranteed thing, but writing works sometimes and it worked wonderfully for me this morning. Not this writing. Lock box stuff where I just pull my thumb out of the dike, step back and try not to get my good shoes wet. It gushes for several unrestrained paragraphs and then, like a miracle drug kicking in, I'm all better.
How's that work?
One reason may be that what needs to be said gets said. That's not the same thing as saying it to anybody in particular or being read by any eyes but mine. It just needed to get out of the narrow confines of my mind. Liking it to pent up autumn sap gushing from the bored hole in a tree trunk may be a descriptive and folksy analogy, but I don't see how it's helpful in this case.
Maybe writing is like a marker in time that says, "I passed this way once", adding some permanence. The permanence is followed by a sort of low level validity. Not real, tested validity. Not universal truth, just my truth and most of the time that's all that is needed. I suppose a lot of rubbish has been printed and passed on that was the kind of thing that is true within the very small arena of one mind and should have been kept there and at most, pulled out occasionally, hummed over and put back again.
Like the Trappists and other cloistered types, I think manual labor also helps the disordered mind. They say it clears the mind by diverting it. Like restocking the shelves when you aren't looking it's a kind of spiritual slight of hand. But it's hot out today, my yard looks just fine, the car is clean and, anyway, I'm feeling a lot better now.
It's not a guaranteed thing, but writing works sometimes and it worked wonderfully for me this morning. Not this writing. Lock box stuff where I just pull my thumb out of the dike, step back and try not to get my good shoes wet. It gushes for several unrestrained paragraphs and then, like a miracle drug kicking in, I'm all better.
How's that work?
One reason may be that what needs to be said gets said. That's not the same thing as saying it to anybody in particular or being read by any eyes but mine. It just needed to get out of the narrow confines of my mind. Liking it to pent up autumn sap gushing from the bored hole in a tree trunk may be a descriptive and folksy analogy, but I don't see how it's helpful in this case.
Maybe writing is like a marker in time that says, "I passed this way once", adding some permanence. The permanence is followed by a sort of low level validity. Not real, tested validity. Not universal truth, just my truth and most of the time that's all that is needed. I suppose a lot of rubbish has been printed and passed on that was the kind of thing that is true within the very small arena of one mind and should have been kept there and at most, pulled out occasionally, hummed over and put back again.
Like the Trappists and other cloistered types, I think manual labor also helps the disordered mind. They say it clears the mind by diverting it. Like restocking the shelves when you aren't looking it's a kind of spiritual slight of hand. But it's hot out today, my yard looks just fine, the car is clean and, anyway, I'm feeling a lot better now.
Is That Your Own Idea? (Originally posted on Tuesday, March 19, 2013)
Is That Your Own Idea?
Standing in the courtroom of Imperial Rome, the battered and badly mauled rabbi from Nazareth couldn't resist answering a question with a question. Governor Pilate's original inquiry, "Are you the king of the Jews?" is risky talk in an empire that tolerates no rival to Caesar. It's a dangerous discussion and Jesus' answer is potentially explosive. Depending on how it's retold and by whom, it might all be interpreted as a serious indictment that the governor himself is whispering treason. Delicate stuff.
Oddly enough, polar opposite responses like those can have a single motivation. Many attempts at self definition are based on what we reject. We often glance around to make sure we are dismissing things whose rejection will gain approval or make us appear to be a certain type of person - open-minded, tolerant, holy, devout, serious, smart, humble, not "one of those people". The pattern holds when we affirm things as well. In either case though, if the lines drawn in defining ourselves are copied off someone else's paper, they are no good.
"Is that your own idea?"
Jesus is supremely interested in what you think. Thinking - your own thinking, not copy-cat thinking - is very important to Him. In fact He came precisely because our thinking on big issues is scrambled, tortured and twisted. Sin, failure a deadly consequential missing of the mark, damages our minds and leaves us blinded about our own nature and God's. Unable to know what we don't know, we act from our own darkness, creating strange and almost mythological notions about God. It leaves us with the unpaid baggage of "I'm not good" and "God is angry." The first causes us to hide ourselves from significant people around us and the other causes us to hide from God, who is always closer than we imagine.
Your ideas are important. Do you know what they are?
- "I don't believe in organized religion."
- "I'm an agnostic."
- "Christianity is outdated.
- "I believe every word in the Bible is literally true."
- "If you aren't attached to the right religion, you can't go to heaven."
- "To be involved with Jesus, drastic religious adjustments must come first."
Oddly enough, polar opposite responses like those can have a single motivation. Many attempts at self definition are based on what we reject. We often glance around to make sure we are dismissing things whose rejection will gain approval or make us appear to be a certain type of person - open-minded, tolerant, holy, devout, serious, smart, humble, not "one of those people". The pattern holds when we affirm things as well. In either case though, if the lines drawn in defining ourselves are copied off someone else's paper, they are no good.
"Is that your own idea?"
Jesus is supremely interested in what you think. Thinking - your own thinking, not copy-cat thinking - is very important to Him. In fact He came precisely because our thinking on big issues is scrambled, tortured and twisted. Sin, failure a deadly consequential missing of the mark, damages our minds and leaves us blinded about our own nature and God's. Unable to know what we don't know, we act from our own darkness, creating strange and almost mythological notions about God. It leaves us with the unpaid baggage of "I'm not good" and "God is angry." The first causes us to hide ourselves from significant people around us and the other causes us to hide from God, who is always closer than we imagine.
Your ideas are important. Do you know what they are?
When the Charges are Made in Your Church (Originally posted on Wednesday, February 4, 2013)
A friend working on his Marriage and Family Therapy program invited me to comment on what it's like to be in charge and have to walk through the investigation, prosecution and nightmare of child molestation charges in the church. I can only offer my impressions, having experienced it more than once. I know it has great, even devastating effect on the accusers and accused, but my knowledge of that comes by observation only and is second hand. It must certainly be awful, but I'm hardly qualified to speak to that with the authority of experience.
When it's on your watch and you report it and know all those involved - alleged victim and alleged perpetrator - it is one of the hardest and most solitary things to walk through. At least as hard as comforting a family shell shocked by suicide, as hard as speaking with the young couple who have lost a very young child. It's on level with the numbing difficulty of being the one spiritual guide in the room when they tell the already sick guy the cancer is fast, always nasty and terminal.
It's disorienting.
It's like being in a large, familiar room and every bit of light goes out. As you start fumbling around you realize somebody, somehow has quickly rearranged the furniture and nothing is where you remember it. They've added things too and the doors aren't where they're supposed to be.
The whole experience ages you and you realize again what nobody cares to hear: that ministry and leadership is not what people think it is. You don't know which end is up, but your prayer life does deepen because words spoken to other folks don't communicate like they used to, so you pray. It's only then that you start to realize that maybe the room is bigger than you thought and there is a way out and someday, once you get past the clutter, you might just find it.
Of course, the agonies endured by the others involved must be horrific. Guilty, not guilty, real, distorted or false accusations - it all has to be chaos and misery for everyone. I only know what I know and remain the world's foremost authority on my own experience and opinion.
If the whole point of this exercise - for me - is God's way of getting me to pray better or more, I would prefer to read a book by one of the Puritan divines or attend a seminar. Like W.C. Fields said, "all in all, I would rather be in Philadelphia".
When it's on your watch and you report it and know all those involved - alleged victim and alleged perpetrator - it is one of the hardest and most solitary things to walk through. At least as hard as comforting a family shell shocked by suicide, as hard as speaking with the young couple who have lost a very young child. It's on level with the numbing difficulty of being the one spiritual guide in the room when they tell the already sick guy the cancer is fast, always nasty and terminal.
It's disorienting.
It's like being in a large, familiar room and every bit of light goes out. As you start fumbling around you realize somebody, somehow has quickly rearranged the furniture and nothing is where you remember it. They've added things too and the doors aren't where they're supposed to be.
The whole experience ages you and you realize again what nobody cares to hear: that ministry and leadership is not what people think it is. You don't know which end is up, but your prayer life does deepen because words spoken to other folks don't communicate like they used to, so you pray. It's only then that you start to realize that maybe the room is bigger than you thought and there is a way out and someday, once you get past the clutter, you might just find it.
Of course, the agonies endured by the others involved must be horrific. Guilty, not guilty, real, distorted or false accusations - it all has to be chaos and misery for everyone. I only know what I know and remain the world's foremost authority on my own experience and opinion.
If the whole point of this exercise - for me - is God's way of getting me to pray better or more, I would prefer to read a book by one of the Puritan divines or attend a seminar. Like W.C. Fields said, "all in all, I would rather be in Philadelphia".
Did You Hear the One About . . .? (Originally posted on Wednesday, February 4, 2013)
I guess a well known comic recently made comments meant to denigrate the Bible and anyone who reads it seriously. Maybe he meant no harm. Maybe he was just trying to be funny and George S. Kaufman missed the writer's session.
I don't know anything about the comic, his show or what watching it says about his viewers, but since he wanted me to know what he thinks, I'd like him to know what I think.
I'd like him to know that I've been reading the Bible seriously for awhile and though a natural born skeptic, I'm sometimes floored by the depth of expression, universality of message and the often satisfying way it speaks to a deep place in me. I'd like to tell him how I hear a ring of truth I can't explain and occasionally sense a naked awe that sometimes stops my breathing. I would mention being startled by a kindness so surprising, comforting and personal that sometimes brings tears. I don't understand all of it. I don't even like all of it. That too leaves an imprint on me.
I hope he experiences the Bible that way someday and genuinely hope it doesn't take him as long as it's taken me. I'm not mad at the guy, I just want him to know, that's all.
I don't know anything about the comic, his show or what watching it says about his viewers, but since he wanted me to know what he thinks, I'd like him to know what I think.
I'd like him to know that I've been reading the Bible seriously for awhile and though a natural born skeptic, I'm sometimes floored by the depth of expression, universality of message and the often satisfying way it speaks to a deep place in me. I'd like to tell him how I hear a ring of truth I can't explain and occasionally sense a naked awe that sometimes stops my breathing. I would mention being startled by a kindness so surprising, comforting and personal that sometimes brings tears. I don't understand all of it. I don't even like all of it. That too leaves an imprint on me.
I hope he experiences the Bible that way someday and genuinely hope it doesn't take him as long as it's taken me. I'm not mad at the guy, I just want him to know, that's all.
Another Silly Phrase Christians Use (Originally posted on Monday, January 28, 2013)
Funny how much can be missed in reading the Bible.
I bet when you know your numbered days have become numbered hours or minutes, you get very focused. If you keep your wits and don't go Butterfly McQueen panicky, you would probably do and say only the most important things. The night Jesus is betrayed, the Crucifixion clock starts ticking and He prays - significant right there - and His focus is not on Himself so much but on current friends and friends to come.
He prays that His friends will display a remarkable, almost otherworldly, degree of unity and closeness. Since He can't think of any relationship closer, His personal example takes us inside the mystery of His nature: "That they may be one Father, even as You and I are one." Unravelling the depths of that relationship could break your brain. Probably best to accept it as a, for now, unexplained mystery. They are very close.
Then He jabs hard, saying closeness like Theirs is essential between Christians if the world is ever to believe His words about Himself. "That the world may believe You have sent Me." Crazy, but He subordinates His success as a communicator to our treatment of one another. At present, it appears most of the world is pretty much unconvinced that Jesus is who He claimed to be and it further appears that the intransigence and pride of those who take the name of Christ are to blame. Maybe the petty prejudices Christians baptize as doctrinal and purity battles really aren't the most important things. Rough stuff.
Sandwiched between the peek into God's unity and love within Himself and the perennial failure of Christians to be Christlike, is a notion that should have been sandwiched between the previous two paragraphs: "That they may also be in Us." Jesus invites us into what someone has called the Grand Dance - a dazzling display of dexterity and adoration that exists only within the nature and life of God. We aren't in Kansas and we aren't talking religion anymore. We're invited into who God knows Himself to be. This is wild and unbelievable stuff.
It's not a trip to the altar, living a religious code, going to church, giving in the offering, finding a place of ministry or even pursuing spirituality in all it's varied forms. It's not about prayer, spiritual formation, reading Kierkegaard, Zen exercises or praying a sinner's prayer.
In fact, the cherished phrase that puts rugged American individualism proudly on display, "inviting Jesus into my heart", is shown by Jesus' wild ride invitation to be about as flawed and wrongheaded as anything can be. We don't invite Him, He invites us into the center of His life and nature.
He's calling you into the Mystery and invited you to the Dance. RSVP'd yet?
Note: If you care to read it for yourself, The Gospel According to John - chapter 17 is the place. Unless you're an Elizabethan scholar and are fine with being "hoisted on your own petard", find a modern translation. Don't take my word for anything. I could be all wet.
I bet when you know your numbered days have become numbered hours or minutes, you get very focused. If you keep your wits and don't go Butterfly McQueen panicky, you would probably do and say only the most important things. The night Jesus is betrayed, the Crucifixion clock starts ticking and He prays - significant right there - and His focus is not on Himself so much but on current friends and friends to come.
He prays that His friends will display a remarkable, almost otherworldly, degree of unity and closeness. Since He can't think of any relationship closer, His personal example takes us inside the mystery of His nature: "That they may be one Father, even as You and I are one." Unravelling the depths of that relationship could break your brain. Probably best to accept it as a, for now, unexplained mystery. They are very close.
Then He jabs hard, saying closeness like Theirs is essential between Christians if the world is ever to believe His words about Himself. "That the world may believe You have sent Me." Crazy, but He subordinates His success as a communicator to our treatment of one another. At present, it appears most of the world is pretty much unconvinced that Jesus is who He claimed to be and it further appears that the intransigence and pride of those who take the name of Christ are to blame. Maybe the petty prejudices Christians baptize as doctrinal and purity battles really aren't the most important things. Rough stuff.
Sandwiched between the peek into God's unity and love within Himself and the perennial failure of Christians to be Christlike, is a notion that should have been sandwiched between the previous two paragraphs: "That they may also be in Us." Jesus invites us into what someone has called the Grand Dance - a dazzling display of dexterity and adoration that exists only within the nature and life of God. We aren't in Kansas and we aren't talking religion anymore. We're invited into who God knows Himself to be. This is wild and unbelievable stuff.
It's not a trip to the altar, living a religious code, going to church, giving in the offering, finding a place of ministry or even pursuing spirituality in all it's varied forms. It's not about prayer, spiritual formation, reading Kierkegaard, Zen exercises or praying a sinner's prayer.
In fact, the cherished phrase that puts rugged American individualism proudly on display, "inviting Jesus into my heart", is shown by Jesus' wild ride invitation to be about as flawed and wrongheaded as anything can be. We don't invite Him, He invites us into the center of His life and nature.
He's calling you into the Mystery and invited you to the Dance. RSVP'd yet?
Note: If you care to read it for yourself, The Gospel According to John - chapter 17 is the place. Unless you're an Elizabethan scholar and are fine with being "hoisted on your own petard", find a modern translation. Don't take my word for anything. I could be all wet.
Being Human for Human Beings (Originally posted on Thursday, May 31, 2012)
Because of new paving going down, I was glad to be stuck at the intersection through several light cycles. Glad because I witnessed something remarkable, which is why I remark on it now.
Lots of equipment, additional noise and dense smells along with a screwy light pattern had this knotted concentration of strangers a little edgy. Street pavers and drivers were wary of each other, but pedestrians were the most inconvenienced. Navigating machinery, avoiding frustrated drivers and waiting to catch the eye of an orange vested traffic director made crossing the street a scary, difficult thing.
Two folks, a man and lady who appeared to me to be developmentally challenged, approached what should have been the crosswalk. She especially was disturbed: the broad white crossing lines had been covered, the lights weren't doing their normal thing, it was stinky, noisy and too hot. She gestured at the the sticky goo and didn't want to step off the curb and get the tarry mess all over her shoes. A do-ragged, sweaty construction guy acted quickly, hoisted her piggy back, held out a hand to stop traffic and got her safely and sans goo across the wide street. She waved a happy hand as the guy sprinted back to his post. I'm sure his kind act was not covered in his initial interview when hired and was nowhere in the company job description or contract with the city.
What a human thing to do.
When I finally got a chance to turn, I swung wide just to tell him I thought he was a good guy.
I bet the Good Samaritan didn't start out good. He became good when he touched the wounds of his hated tribal rival - a beat up Jew. Being human is doing good and doing good is always costly. Much cheaper and more cost effective to talk about good and being enraged when someone else isn't. It's also more common.
Jesus "dwelt among is" and became human in doing so. Jesus and the construction guy tell me that to be fully human I have to be fully engaged with and attentive to someone other than my moderately interesting self.
Becoming human has a price tag attached and maybe that's why it's rare. And valuable.
Lots of equipment, additional noise and dense smells along with a screwy light pattern had this knotted concentration of strangers a little edgy. Street pavers and drivers were wary of each other, but pedestrians were the most inconvenienced. Navigating machinery, avoiding frustrated drivers and waiting to catch the eye of an orange vested traffic director made crossing the street a scary, difficult thing.
Two folks, a man and lady who appeared to me to be developmentally challenged, approached what should have been the crosswalk. She especially was disturbed: the broad white crossing lines had been covered, the lights weren't doing their normal thing, it was stinky, noisy and too hot. She gestured at the the sticky goo and didn't want to step off the curb and get the tarry mess all over her shoes. A do-ragged, sweaty construction guy acted quickly, hoisted her piggy back, held out a hand to stop traffic and got her safely and sans goo across the wide street. She waved a happy hand as the guy sprinted back to his post. I'm sure his kind act was not covered in his initial interview when hired and was nowhere in the company job description or contract with the city.
What a human thing to do.
When I finally got a chance to turn, I swung wide just to tell him I thought he was a good guy.
I bet the Good Samaritan didn't start out good. He became good when he touched the wounds of his hated tribal rival - a beat up Jew. Being human is doing good and doing good is always costly. Much cheaper and more cost effective to talk about good and being enraged when someone else isn't. It's also more common.
Jesus "dwelt among is" and became human in doing so. Jesus and the construction guy tell me that to be fully human I have to be fully engaged with and attentive to someone other than my moderately interesting self.
Becoming human has a price tag attached and maybe that's why it's rare. And valuable.
I Coulda Been a Contender (Originally posted on Wednesday, May 16, 2012)
All of the girls have been having friends at the house almost nightly for the last several weeks. Four girls, plus friends. Lots of them. Hindus and Jews, Christians and pagans, all shades and colors, from India, England and I'm not sure where else. Studying all kinds of interesting things at schools I wasn't smart enough to get into. Some are brilliant and talented and some appear pretty dopey to me. It's a loud cacophony of young adult singing, jokes and miscommunication. The furniture and piano have taken a beating and the fridge door is more open than closed. The ice maker has given up the ghost.
Piling on the couches, looking at photos of the girls when they were little has been a favorite pastime for this 16 to mid-twenties crowd. Some life long friends remember the connected stories and new kids get a kick out of the goofy hair and clothes.
Watching all this has made me reflective as well as dizzy. I'm thinking I might have been a better parent when they were little if I had understood kid's stall tactics. They could worm out of cleaning their rooms - and frustrate the fire out of me - by comparing disaster sites ("look at HER mess!") and talking about who was more to blame. A quarter of an hour could vanish into the ether with a labyrinthine protest about unfairness in assigning chores and lucky kids that never do any. Another could be gobbled up defining exactly what constitutes a clean room, a folded towel or a neat closet. I get it now - stall and you don't have to do anything. It's not as fun as playing, but it's not as bad as working.
Certainly there are some honest seekers when it comes to the Great Questions of Life - "Is there a God? What's He expect from me? How should I respond to Him? Does anybody speak for Him? Does He have a say in my behavior? What's right and what's wrong?" I just wonder if some few seekers prolong the search, reject putting a stake in the ground and beginning the more arduous task of obeying whatever He might be whispering because . . . well, talking about it is easier than doing it.
Maybe every Big Question isn't fully answered because real belief is more about correct doing than correct thinking. I get the feeling that some assume we obey God after we believe. It runs something like this: "Of course, I can't be expected to embrace belief/Christianity with a pile unaddressed, unanswered issues. Before unshakable belief in God and the claims of Christ there's no obligation to align my behavior with His expectations."
But who says it works that way? What if it's the other way around and belief follows obedience? "I do what I'm pretty sure God wants, what I've seen He says in a book I still have massive questions about, and then belief starts to sharpen." It would make a big difference, wouldn't it? Are you up for a challenge?
Piling on the couches, looking at photos of the girls when they were little has been a favorite pastime for this 16 to mid-twenties crowd. Some life long friends remember the connected stories and new kids get a kick out of the goofy hair and clothes.
Watching all this has made me reflective as well as dizzy. I'm thinking I might have been a better parent when they were little if I had understood kid's stall tactics. They could worm out of cleaning their rooms - and frustrate the fire out of me - by comparing disaster sites ("look at HER mess!") and talking about who was more to blame. A quarter of an hour could vanish into the ether with a labyrinthine protest about unfairness in assigning chores and lucky kids that never do any. Another could be gobbled up defining exactly what constitutes a clean room, a folded towel or a neat closet. I get it now - stall and you don't have to do anything. It's not as fun as playing, but it's not as bad as working.
Certainly there are some honest seekers when it comes to the Great Questions of Life - "Is there a God? What's He expect from me? How should I respond to Him? Does anybody speak for Him? Does He have a say in my behavior? What's right and what's wrong?" I just wonder if some few seekers prolong the search, reject putting a stake in the ground and beginning the more arduous task of obeying whatever He might be whispering because . . . well, talking about it is easier than doing it.
Maybe every Big Question isn't fully answered because real belief is more about correct doing than correct thinking. I get the feeling that some assume we obey God after we believe. It runs something like this: "Of course, I can't be expected to embrace belief/Christianity with a pile unaddressed, unanswered issues. Before unshakable belief in God and the claims of Christ there's no obligation to align my behavior with His expectations."
But who says it works that way? What if it's the other way around and belief follows obedience? "I do what I'm pretty sure God wants, what I've seen He says in a book I still have massive questions about, and then belief starts to sharpen." It would make a big difference, wouldn't it? Are you up for a challenge?
Right All The Time (Originally posted on Thursday, September 29, 2011)
"One of the sources of futile struggle in the spiritual life is the assumption that one has to become a person without problems, which is, of course, impossible."
Thomas Merton - A Vow of Conversation
How nice to encounter clear thinkers along the way. Those rare few who help me crawl out of my self-made muddle. Merton is one of those "this is the way, walk ye in it" figures for me.
That little snippet of his points to a freedom of spirit we crave and typically grub along without. I have problems. I'm frequently wrong and expend a ton of energy hiding my unconfessed and all too frequent goofs. I'm that big piece of doggie doo-doo my little world revolves around and will always be a loser in the spirituality department because I'm almost always wrong.
But I may be on the verge of something.
Abandoning the need to always be right is liberating . Ditching that itch liberates because the illusion of perfection and being always correct is just that - an illusion, a phantom.
When I choke down the truth serum that my sometimes colossal error is a large part of my make-up, the blinders recede a bit and I inch toward the truth. Though not fully arrived, I begin to see reality from where I actually am, causing me to simply keep my head down and "press toward the mark." Truth, even truth about self, is at once light and airy, winsome, disinfecting and liberating.
"The truth shall set you free." No joke.
Thomas Merton - A Vow of Conversation
How nice to encounter clear thinkers along the way. Those rare few who help me crawl out of my self-made muddle. Merton is one of those "this is the way, walk ye in it" figures for me.
That little snippet of his points to a freedom of spirit we crave and typically grub along without. I have problems. I'm frequently wrong and expend a ton of energy hiding my unconfessed and all too frequent goofs. I'm that big piece of doggie doo-doo my little world revolves around and will always be a loser in the spirituality department because I'm almost always wrong.
But I may be on the verge of something.
Abandoning the need to always be right is liberating . Ditching that itch liberates because the illusion of perfection and being always correct is just that - an illusion, a phantom.
When I choke down the truth serum that my sometimes colossal error is a large part of my make-up, the blinders recede a bit and I inch toward the truth. Though not fully arrived, I begin to see reality from where I actually am, causing me to simply keep my head down and "press toward the mark." Truth, even truth about self, is at once light and airy, winsome, disinfecting and liberating.
"The truth shall set you free." No joke.
Feel the Chill Yet? (Originally posted on Tuesday, September 27, 2011)
Hey church people, here's a chilling reality:
We are failing.
When it comes to the primary mission of the church, Jesus, who's supposed to know these things, says there are two certainties: A) the harvest is plentiful and B) it's ripe and ready to go. So where are all the people? We should be cramming our churches full of people evidencing a contagious life changing experience we couldn't help sharing with them. This thing is so good it's supposed to go viral.
For all of our tricks we can't seem to compel them to join us in any significant numbers. Take all the folks in all the church buildings on the best Easter Sunday you've ever had and it's a fraction of those who will show up at all the shopping venues on the same day. Either Jesus is mistaken about a plentiful, ready harvest or we are floundering badly.
Let's stop being consoled by that phony statistic that reports 40% of Americans attend weekly worship on a regular basis. Take a peek past the steering wheel this Sunday and you won't see 4 in 10 of your neighbors headed to church.
They aren't travelling with us. We are failing at our primary task of reaching a lost world. That makes us failures.
Deep surgery is called for. Something has to change. Reformation, anyone?
We are failing.
When it comes to the primary mission of the church, Jesus, who's supposed to know these things, says there are two certainties: A) the harvest is plentiful and B) it's ripe and ready to go. So where are all the people? We should be cramming our churches full of people evidencing a contagious life changing experience we couldn't help sharing with them. This thing is so good it's supposed to go viral.
For all of our tricks we can't seem to compel them to join us in any significant numbers. Take all the folks in all the church buildings on the best Easter Sunday you've ever had and it's a fraction of those who will show up at all the shopping venues on the same day. Either Jesus is mistaken about a plentiful, ready harvest or we are floundering badly.
Let's stop being consoled by that phony statistic that reports 40% of Americans attend weekly worship on a regular basis. Take a peek past the steering wheel this Sunday and you won't see 4 in 10 of your neighbors headed to church.
They aren't travelling with us. We are failing at our primary task of reaching a lost world. That makes us failures.
Deep surgery is called for. Something has to change. Reformation, anyone?
Just A Question (Originally posted on Friday, September 16, 2011)
This isn't for people that have a gripe, have been legitimately wounded or think church is bunk.
What if only 10% of those who have received a tangible, spiritual or emotional benefit from a church -
What if the 40% of Americans who consistently say they attend worship services regularly actually did?
What if Christians stopped lying to pollsters? What if they stopped kidding themselves? Just asking.
What if only 10% of those who have received a tangible, spiritual or emotional benefit from a church -
- financial assistance
- food
- improved health
- a job connection
- social acceptance
- some measure of peace
What if the 40% of Americans who consistently say they attend worship services regularly actually did?
What if Christians stopped lying to pollsters? What if they stopped kidding themselves? Just asking.
Politics and the Faithful (Originally posted on Thursday, July 7, 2011)
Who doesn't like a challenge?
A worldly wise and insightful friend asked for my thoughts on Christians and politics. Being both a struggling believer and registered to vote, I clearly have all the makings of a sought after pundit. The request leaves me flushed, suffering vapors and the fresh blush of unsolicited flattery, but since I am the world's foremost authority on my own opinion, I consider myself more than qualified and have in store all the 8x10 glossies needed, so . . .
The tossed gauntlet is acknowledged.
People seem fascinated by politics and political theater. Whole networks are dedicated to it. So are publishing empires, periodicals, newspaper sections, careers, university departments, think tanks and web sites. I confess I don't get it anymore than I get channels dedicated to food preparation or shopping. With a nod to full disclosure, C-Span gets lumped in with QVC because neither are of great personal interest to me. That telegraphs where I'm headed, but you asked for it Tom, so here goes.
Lots of emotional energy surrounds political views. That's why the old maxim forbidding its discussion in polite society is still survives. Too raw, too visceral, too personal, potentially too emotional. Because of heavy, personal investment, emotionally and financially, folks can be Political passions are fueled by heavy, personal investments that are financial, emotional and sometimes almost tribal. Add to that the tremendous talent investment of journalists and analysts who make the mere observation of political life a career choice. Factor in the otherworldly cash investments in campaigns, lobbying, messaging, branding and legislating along with the multi-layered personal and family investments made by those who get in the arena of what some label a bloodsport. Tally it up and you are talking a really big deal. People are attracted to politics and invest so heavily in it because it's the biggest thing they know.
But it's not the biggest Thing there is.
Notice the capital "T"? That's a clumsy pivot toward Deity. Things Eternal, Himself, God Stuff. Maybe you don't believe in God. That is and should always remain your choice, but just remember that unbelief isn't an unbargained for occurrence like a social disease or dry mouth that unexpectedly comes upon you. Unbelief is a choice, just like its crazy other-side-of-the-metaphysical coin. Unbelief and his fraternal twin Belief are both choices. Okay by me if you choose to opt out of faith. Just observe the basics and don't covet or steal my stuff, lie on purpose, adulterate or stab family and people I like.
The assignment though is Christians and politics and that's why I bring up God as the biggest thing. Christians believe that. For what it's worth, my take is that too many believers get too immersed in politics for the same reason non-believers do: because it's the biggest thing they know. Politics presents a snare for believers that unbelievers can whistle past.
In the unbelievers' understanding of reality, choices are all your own and while some choices may potentially result in bad consequences, not even terrible results are really permanent. All things come to an end. The unbeliever is free to make doll collecting, soap operas, sports, clock repair, bird watching, hopscotch, even politics the biggest thing there is. That option is not open to the believer. The Christian signs on to the proposition that only One is worthy of everything the heart, soul, mind and strength can offer.
To this mildly interested by-stander, when Christians engage in politics with a do-or-die gusto, it seems like an inconsistency. Amounts of money, emotional energies and time are always measures of first allegiances for anyone and Christians too immersed in politics run the same risk that comes with captivation to any and every other lesser pursuit. Excessive dependence on the political process betrays the tacit admission also betrayed by excessive dependence on money or possessions: In spite of what I say, God is not the biggest thing there is. No sweat to the unbeliever, but for the bifurcated believer the Revelator's charge of "having left your first love" might just stick. Forever. No small failing in the household of faith.
Money, energy and time devoted to politics may be a good gauge of alignment of treasure and heart, but the acid test is surely a Christian's behavior - private and public - when faced with political opposition. Hitting the panic button when political opponents are relentless or underhanded might be an indicator of a believer's heart health. When there's a political defeat, how hard do you fall and how hard do you fight to keep from falling?
After November, how's that peace that passes understanding, brother?
The dollars, rhetoric, volume, emotional intensity, and last drop of blood, take no prisoners mentality is to be expected of those who, sans God, really believe it is the biggest game in town. It's a wholly inappropriate approach for those who claim to be "looking for a city whose builder and maker is God."
Are the issues floating in today's political ether substantial, important and worthy of debate? Some are. Some really are big deals. Do Christians have the right to be involved in political discourse and decision making? As much as anybody else and all should play by the same rules of inclusion. However, for the Christian and for the Christian view of what's it all about Alfie, not even collectively do the big issues of politics approach the ultimate Big Deal.
That's about as high toned as I get, but on a personal, practical level, current political machinations get what a Nigerian friend describes as a "corner-of-the-eye" glance from me because of what's offered up. It's usually not anything fresh. Originality and boldness - requisites for effective problem solving - seem oddly yet typically lacking in much that passes for political discourse. After many meetings, idea sessions, discussions, city and county council meetings, task force participation, and encounters with elected representatives on various levels, my conclusion is that most political solutions are predictably drawn from the same stagnant pool of ideas.
For that reason, it's tough for me to maintain a high and sustained level of genuine, activist interest in current political discourse. You can do what you want, but I'll probably sit this one out. Next one too. And the one after that.
I'm not an analyst nor the son of an analyst, and maybe my borderline apathy informs my placing the giant world of politics in a subordinate role. I'm just stuck on the notion that even such a formidable behemoth as politics should take a back seat to what I assume most Christians would consider bigger and more enduring things. While I'm willing to man this lonely outpost, the Apostle may have my back on this one: "for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal."
A worldly wise and insightful friend asked for my thoughts on Christians and politics. Being both a struggling believer and registered to vote, I clearly have all the makings of a sought after pundit. The request leaves me flushed, suffering vapors and the fresh blush of unsolicited flattery, but since I am the world's foremost authority on my own opinion, I consider myself more than qualified and have in store all the 8x10 glossies needed, so . . .
The tossed gauntlet is acknowledged.
People seem fascinated by politics and political theater. Whole networks are dedicated to it. So are publishing empires, periodicals, newspaper sections, careers, university departments, think tanks and web sites. I confess I don't get it anymore than I get channels dedicated to food preparation or shopping. With a nod to full disclosure, C-Span gets lumped in with QVC because neither are of great personal interest to me. That telegraphs where I'm headed, but you asked for it Tom, so here goes.
Lots of emotional energy surrounds political views. That's why the old maxim forbidding its discussion in polite society is still survives. Too raw, too visceral, too personal, potentially too emotional. Because of heavy, personal investment, emotionally and financially, folks can be Political passions are fueled by heavy, personal investments that are financial, emotional and sometimes almost tribal. Add to that the tremendous talent investment of journalists and analysts who make the mere observation of political life a career choice. Factor in the otherworldly cash investments in campaigns, lobbying, messaging, branding and legislating along with the multi-layered personal and family investments made by those who get in the arena of what some label a bloodsport. Tally it up and you are talking a really big deal. People are attracted to politics and invest so heavily in it because it's the biggest thing they know.
But it's not the biggest Thing there is.
Notice the capital "T"? That's a clumsy pivot toward Deity. Things Eternal, Himself, God Stuff. Maybe you don't believe in God. That is and should always remain your choice, but just remember that unbelief isn't an unbargained for occurrence like a social disease or dry mouth that unexpectedly comes upon you. Unbelief is a choice, just like its crazy other-side-of-the-metaphysical coin. Unbelief and his fraternal twin Belief are both choices. Okay by me if you choose to opt out of faith. Just observe the basics and don't covet or steal my stuff, lie on purpose, adulterate or stab family and people I like.
The assignment though is Christians and politics and that's why I bring up God as the biggest thing. Christians believe that. For what it's worth, my take is that too many believers get too immersed in politics for the same reason non-believers do: because it's the biggest thing they know. Politics presents a snare for believers that unbelievers can whistle past.
In the unbelievers' understanding of reality, choices are all your own and while some choices may potentially result in bad consequences, not even terrible results are really permanent. All things come to an end. The unbeliever is free to make doll collecting, soap operas, sports, clock repair, bird watching, hopscotch, even politics the biggest thing there is. That option is not open to the believer. The Christian signs on to the proposition that only One is worthy of everything the heart, soul, mind and strength can offer.
To this mildly interested by-stander, when Christians engage in politics with a do-or-die gusto, it seems like an inconsistency. Amounts of money, emotional energies and time are always measures of first allegiances for anyone and Christians too immersed in politics run the same risk that comes with captivation to any and every other lesser pursuit. Excessive dependence on the political process betrays the tacit admission also betrayed by excessive dependence on money or possessions: In spite of what I say, God is not the biggest thing there is. No sweat to the unbeliever, but for the bifurcated believer the Revelator's charge of "having left your first love" might just stick. Forever. No small failing in the household of faith.
Money, energy and time devoted to politics may be a good gauge of alignment of treasure and heart, but the acid test is surely a Christian's behavior - private and public - when faced with political opposition. Hitting the panic button when political opponents are relentless or underhanded might be an indicator of a believer's heart health. When there's a political defeat, how hard do you fall and how hard do you fight to keep from falling?
After November, how's that peace that passes understanding, brother?
The dollars, rhetoric, volume, emotional intensity, and last drop of blood, take no prisoners mentality is to be expected of those who, sans God, really believe it is the biggest game in town. It's a wholly inappropriate approach for those who claim to be "looking for a city whose builder and maker is God."
Are the issues floating in today's political ether substantial, important and worthy of debate? Some are. Some really are big deals. Do Christians have the right to be involved in political discourse and decision making? As much as anybody else and all should play by the same rules of inclusion. However, for the Christian and for the Christian view of what's it all about Alfie, not even collectively do the big issues of politics approach the ultimate Big Deal.
That's about as high toned as I get, but on a personal, practical level, current political machinations get what a Nigerian friend describes as a "corner-of-the-eye" glance from me because of what's offered up. It's usually not anything fresh. Originality and boldness - requisites for effective problem solving - seem oddly yet typically lacking in much that passes for political discourse. After many meetings, idea sessions, discussions, city and county council meetings, task force participation, and encounters with elected representatives on various levels, my conclusion is that most political solutions are predictably drawn from the same stagnant pool of ideas.
For that reason, it's tough for me to maintain a high and sustained level of genuine, activist interest in current political discourse. You can do what you want, but I'll probably sit this one out. Next one too. And the one after that.
I'm not an analyst nor the son of an analyst, and maybe my borderline apathy informs my placing the giant world of politics in a subordinate role. I'm just stuck on the notion that even such a formidable behemoth as politics should take a back seat to what I assume most Christians would consider bigger and more enduring things. While I'm willing to man this lonely outpost, the Apostle may have my back on this one: "for the things which are seen are temporal, but the things that are not seen are eternal."
Harold Camping Lost Me (Originally posted on Tuesday, May 24, 2011)
Because it was fish-in-a-barrel easy and because it was being done so amateurishly and with too much invective, I intended to urge mercy for a guy who goofed. Harold Camping appeared to be just a confused ninety year old guy with no friends strong enough to tell him he left the house without his pants.
I planned to point out that for every religious doomsayer, Adventist, Jehovah's Witness, jihadi or garden variety TV evangelist there has a been a secular prediction that also fell flat: Though journalists wept, New Orleans did not devolve into total anarchy, mass rape and cannibalism. Even after those hideous Democrats/hideous Republicans got their claws on power the catastrophic nuclear, financial, immigration, moral or compassion meltdown guaranteed by the talking heads never materialized. Mentioning Y2K once produced anxiety, night sweats, dire predictions and hoarding all those tasteless, high fiber foods. Grunting and eye rolling is all it gets you now. That bottle of iodine put in all the West coast medicine cabinets following the nuclear problems in Japan will set there until Jesus comes. With such a staggering list of Armageddon predictions that never materialized - secular and sacred - and the fact that Camping's was only one more, all topped off with the monotony of half wits' unfunny jokes, I was leaning toward a "leave the guy alone" approach.
Camping's ramble following the May 21 fizzle changed all that. After The End Is Near became The End Was Near, I expected him to come out of his undisclosed location with some sort of apology, evidencing that rare humility born of a very goofy and very public error. Instead we got a dissembling tap dance. No apology for the millions misspent, for scaring the bejeebers out of the gullible and giving occasion for every underoos clad Mencken wannabe with a keyboard to casually lump clowns like him with good guys like me. It got personal, see.
His Monday night flight into broadcast fancy resembled the much despised slippery lawyer who, with zero regard for the law, contorts it to fit his situation. If the confidence men are right in saying no one gets conned unless they also find the something-for-nothing game alluring, then the Camping faithful who surrendered their critical faculties before they surrendered their cash share some responsibility for being duped. The lion's share of blame however surely goes to Camping - despite his press conference deflections and self serving retreats into scriptural esoterica. Camping was trying to save his own dirty Dutch neck and assumed the rest of us were the stupidest people in the room. That makes him a bad guy.
Here's another way he successfully retains his Crook of the Month status: his claim to champion the Bible is a lie. Do not mistake Camping for a fundamentalist. What he says about the Bible is very different from what he does with it. No different than LDS and others, the Bible for him is correct only insofar as it is correctly translated. Such statements are made most often by those who insist theirs, of course, is the correct translation. His loud and frequent pronouncements to the contrary, Camping has very little regard for the Bible or the authority of scripture. His performance before the eager press makes clear that he and his screwball interpretation - not the Bible - is his ultimate source of authority. The naked emperor, now exposed, insists we believe him and not our lying eyes. History, experience, scripture, worthy tradition, genuinely good and godly lives, dedicated scholars - all are to be abandoned and only Camping embraced. That clanging bell and wooden crossing arms descending mean anything to you?
It's not hard to see why most believers turned away from Camping with his first failed prediction in September 1994. I almost got suckered into feeling sorry for him, but anybody who sends him a dime is a dope. It's time to ignore him not because he's deranged or delusional, but because in his malignant arrogance he's dangerous.
I planned to point out that for every religious doomsayer, Adventist, Jehovah's Witness, jihadi or garden variety TV evangelist there has a been a secular prediction that also fell flat: Though journalists wept, New Orleans did not devolve into total anarchy, mass rape and cannibalism. Even after those hideous Democrats/hideous Republicans got their claws on power the catastrophic nuclear, financial, immigration, moral or compassion meltdown guaranteed by the talking heads never materialized. Mentioning Y2K once produced anxiety, night sweats, dire predictions and hoarding all those tasteless, high fiber foods. Grunting and eye rolling is all it gets you now. That bottle of iodine put in all the West coast medicine cabinets following the nuclear problems in Japan will set there until Jesus comes. With such a staggering list of Armageddon predictions that never materialized - secular and sacred - and the fact that Camping's was only one more, all topped off with the monotony of half wits' unfunny jokes, I was leaning toward a "leave the guy alone" approach.
Camping's ramble following the May 21 fizzle changed all that. After The End Is Near became The End Was Near, I expected him to come out of his undisclosed location with some sort of apology, evidencing that rare humility born of a very goofy and very public error. Instead we got a dissembling tap dance. No apology for the millions misspent, for scaring the bejeebers out of the gullible and giving occasion for every underoos clad Mencken wannabe with a keyboard to casually lump clowns like him with good guys like me. It got personal, see.
His Monday night flight into broadcast fancy resembled the much despised slippery lawyer who, with zero regard for the law, contorts it to fit his situation. If the confidence men are right in saying no one gets conned unless they also find the something-for-nothing game alluring, then the Camping faithful who surrendered their critical faculties before they surrendered their cash share some responsibility for being duped. The lion's share of blame however surely goes to Camping - despite his press conference deflections and self serving retreats into scriptural esoterica. Camping was trying to save his own dirty Dutch neck and assumed the rest of us were the stupidest people in the room. That makes him a bad guy.
Here's another way he successfully retains his Crook of the Month status: his claim to champion the Bible is a lie. Do not mistake Camping for a fundamentalist. What he says about the Bible is very different from what he does with it. No different than LDS and others, the Bible for him is correct only insofar as it is correctly translated. Such statements are made most often by those who insist theirs, of course, is the correct translation. His loud and frequent pronouncements to the contrary, Camping has very little regard for the Bible or the authority of scripture. His performance before the eager press makes clear that he and his screwball interpretation - not the Bible - is his ultimate source of authority. The naked emperor, now exposed, insists we believe him and not our lying eyes. History, experience, scripture, worthy tradition, genuinely good and godly lives, dedicated scholars - all are to be abandoned and only Camping embraced. That clanging bell and wooden crossing arms descending mean anything to you?
It's not hard to see why most believers turned away from Camping with his first failed prediction in September 1994. I almost got suckered into feeling sorry for him, but anybody who sends him a dime is a dope. It's time to ignore him not because he's deranged or delusional, but because in his malignant arrogance he's dangerous.
A Four Box Weekend (Originally posted on Tuesday, May 17, 2011)
Walking through the darkened sanctuary early Monday, I noticed that every Kleenex container was empty. Between the the Sunday services and evening prayer meeting we had gone through at least four boxes. That's a lot of nose blowing and tears.
Kleenex loss may be the best way to measure church health. It has to be better than the inflated attendance reports most churches file with headquarters or those goofy spiritual health diagnostics cooked up in a publisher's conference room.
Some of those may have been happy tears, but given the strains a bunch of our folks are under and the monster challenges staring our church in the face, I bet a lot of them were pain driven. Old time devotional writers would have called it "travailing in prayer".
Before contemporary church big wigs and spirituality experts began to smother us in straight jackets for the soul, some ancient matriarchs and patriarchs seem to have known that good prayer involves 2 things: obedience and sacrifice.
I'm glad we don't sacrifice Elsie the Cow anymore. In her absence though it looks like a lot of believers assume that having skin in the game is no longer required. No sacrifices are necessary to encounter God.
Surprisingly, New Atheists and Bible fundamentalists both make the same wrong headed assumption: that appeasing a brooding, petulant Almighty was part of the recipe for any good sacrifice.
God doesn't need appeasement, but He does need our buy-in. Locking in our participation and insuring our meaningful involvement is really why sacrifice has always been a vital part of worship. Efficiently engaging us in what God is up to is why sacrifice was incorporated into worship. Sacrifice is necessary because our engagement is essential. In many wobbly approaches to God sacrifice is noticeably missing. Without sacrifice I'm just another disengaged spectator.
Sacrificial tears emptied the tissue boxes last weekend. I'll bet God was pleased with every wet, wadded up Kleenex as a sign of sacrifice. Each one also indicates I've happily landed in a healthy, if slightly congested church.
Kleenex loss may be the best way to measure church health. It has to be better than the inflated attendance reports most churches file with headquarters or those goofy spiritual health diagnostics cooked up in a publisher's conference room.
Some of those may have been happy tears, but given the strains a bunch of our folks are under and the monster challenges staring our church in the face, I bet a lot of them were pain driven. Old time devotional writers would have called it "travailing in prayer".
Before contemporary church big wigs and spirituality experts began to smother us in straight jackets for the soul, some ancient matriarchs and patriarchs seem to have known that good prayer involves 2 things: obedience and sacrifice.
I'm glad we don't sacrifice Elsie the Cow anymore. In her absence though it looks like a lot of believers assume that having skin in the game is no longer required. No sacrifices are necessary to encounter God.
Surprisingly, New Atheists and Bible fundamentalists both make the same wrong headed assumption: that appeasing a brooding, petulant Almighty was part of the recipe for any good sacrifice.
God doesn't need appeasement, but He does need our buy-in. Locking in our participation and insuring our meaningful involvement is really why sacrifice has always been a vital part of worship. Efficiently engaging us in what God is up to is why sacrifice was incorporated into worship. Sacrifice is necessary because our engagement is essential. In many wobbly approaches to God sacrifice is noticeably missing. Without sacrifice I'm just another disengaged spectator.
Sacrificial tears emptied the tissue boxes last weekend. I'll bet God was pleased with every wet, wadded up Kleenex as a sign of sacrifice. Each one also indicates I've happily landed in a healthy, if slightly congested church.
Technical Fouls in Church (Originally posted on Sunday, April 11, 2011)
After service yesterday we went for lunch at a Middle Eastern themed restaurant. We - 3 of 4 daughters, wife, what appears to be future son-in-law and self. I like FSIL very much because he can do things - fix cars, handle tools, figure things out. Simultaneous use of hands and head , a disappearing art form novel enough to earn my appreciation is in my mind a very good thing. "It's required of an intruding new family member that a man be found useful."
The TV suspended above us was playing a pro basketball game. It was one of those nice sets with incredibly good clarity and depth of color that makes viewing enjoyable. I remember the old Philco my folks had. The fuzzy picture and the skipping were routine. and the coat hanger and aluminium foil never worked like Uncle Frank said they would. Anyway, LeBron James made it a rough game by ramming his shoulder into another guy and throwing the ball at his back. Great talent. Lousy sportsman.
Why wasn't he thrown out, sent to the locker room, banned for the season or life or something?
Because he's basketball royalty. He's the hardwood equivalent of Simon Magus, the slick talking sorcerer who strutted Samaria working his magic and "claiming to be someone great." As a result, "they all, from the smallest to the greatest, were giving attention to him". Super talents get their way, even when it's behavior so thuggish it would earn a much deserved punch in the mouth anywhere else.
I'm a fight fan, not a basketball fan, which is probably why the ready punching reference. I really don't care what nasty millionaires do or how they play, but it made me re-visit a thought I've had before:
Why is it some people act in church in ways they would never act anywhere else?
The pettiness, whininess, tinny complaining, lack of courtesy, manipulation, fit throwing, fakery, inattention to follow through, unwarranted posturing, disrespect, sense of entitlement, lousy participation, turf scrambling, bigotry, vanity and plain old ugliness - would never be attempted anywhere else, but cesspool just below the surface in church.
It's not everybody and it's not everywhere - I'm so fortunate to have found a genuine body of pock-marked believers that really love one another, recognizing we have something rare and special who are trying everyday to make church a soft place for other fellow screw-ups to land. This stuff called faith really does work. I see it all around me even if it doesn't always work in me. The best people I know are owned by Jesus Christ, but there are just enough bad actors hiding in the Body to spoil the fun. So, (trumpet fanfare and plenty of reverb please):
"Out with you phonies and spoilers! Into outer darkness where there shall be weeping and wailing and gnashing if teeth. No Body of Christ for you to thug your way through!"
Zero tolerance for the whole church thug tribe. I don't care where they go, just stay away from me and mine.
The TV suspended above us was playing a pro basketball game. It was one of those nice sets with incredibly good clarity and depth of color that makes viewing enjoyable. I remember the old Philco my folks had. The fuzzy picture and the skipping were routine. and the coat hanger and aluminium foil never worked like Uncle Frank said they would. Anyway, LeBron James made it a rough game by ramming his shoulder into another guy and throwing the ball at his back. Great talent. Lousy sportsman.
Why wasn't he thrown out, sent to the locker room, banned for the season or life or something?
Because he's basketball royalty. He's the hardwood equivalent of Simon Magus, the slick talking sorcerer who strutted Samaria working his magic and "claiming to be someone great." As a result, "they all, from the smallest to the greatest, were giving attention to him". Super talents get their way, even when it's behavior so thuggish it would earn a much deserved punch in the mouth anywhere else.
I'm a fight fan, not a basketball fan, which is probably why the ready punching reference. I really don't care what nasty millionaires do or how they play, but it made me re-visit a thought I've had before:
Why is it some people act in church in ways they would never act anywhere else?
The pettiness, whininess, tinny complaining, lack of courtesy, manipulation, fit throwing, fakery, inattention to follow through, unwarranted posturing, disrespect, sense of entitlement, lousy participation, turf scrambling, bigotry, vanity and plain old ugliness - would never be attempted anywhere else, but cesspool just below the surface in church.
It's not everybody and it's not everywhere - I'm so fortunate to have found a genuine body of pock-marked believers that really love one another, recognizing we have something rare and special who are trying everyday to make church a soft place for other fellow screw-ups to land. This stuff called faith really does work. I see it all around me even if it doesn't always work in me. The best people I know are owned by Jesus Christ, but there are just enough bad actors hiding in the Body to spoil the fun. So, (trumpet fanfare and plenty of reverb please):
"Out with you phonies and spoilers! Into outer darkness where there shall be weeping and wailing and gnashing if teeth. No Body of Christ for you to thug your way through!"
Zero tolerance for the whole church thug tribe. I don't care where they go, just stay away from me and mine.
Content to Live Without It (Originally posted on Sunday, April 10, 2011)
How many more wrecked lives will invite me in for a closer look - lives lived within reach of tried and true solutions that, if embraced, could have eliminated their wreckage causing chaos?
Since it's what I do, how many more church people, Christian people, will come my way that live way below the promises guaranteed them by God? Some of them have made bigger messes of it than those with no faith.
Before I puff up too much and overstate my case, I recognize that some things are beyond a person's abilities to control. So let me confine my rant to controllable things and those miserable people who exercise no self-control.
Why shoot yourself in the foot? Why embrace mental anguish where there could be creativity. Why self-inflicted wounds over health? Why so much serially bad decision making when clarity is at your finger tips?
Because we are content to live without it.
Living below God's blessings or being a serious but stale Christian trudging along without a fresh sense of Presence has no good explanation.
The only solution I can see is a massive dose of discontent. Discontent - unwilling to settle until things change, I change, my attitude changes, I let God change me and I change my mind. No easy road. No small task. Nothing else suggests itself. I'm sure there's a Bible word for it.
Since it's what I do, how many more church people, Christian people, will come my way that live way below the promises guaranteed them by God? Some of them have made bigger messes of it than those with no faith.
Before I puff up too much and overstate my case, I recognize that some things are beyond a person's abilities to control. So let me confine my rant to controllable things and those miserable people who exercise no self-control.
Why shoot yourself in the foot? Why embrace mental anguish where there could be creativity. Why self-inflicted wounds over health? Why so much serially bad decision making when clarity is at your finger tips?
Because we are content to live without it.
Living below God's blessings or being a serious but stale Christian trudging along without a fresh sense of Presence has no good explanation.
The only solution I can see is a massive dose of discontent. Discontent - unwilling to settle until things change, I change, my attitude changes, I let God change me and I change my mind. No easy road. No small task. Nothing else suggests itself. I'm sure there's a Bible word for it.
Afraid of a Question? (Originally posted on Sunday, April 10, 2011)
- Why are American Christians more vocal about healthcare legislation, cap and trade and the price of foreign oil than they are about a lack of prayer?
- Why is there more discussion over music styles than holy living?
- Why is gay marriage a bigger topic among believers than the absence of the Holy Spirit in our services?
- Do more pastors golf than fast?
- Are church boards focused more on lawns and roof repairs than hungry children?
- Why are Christians alarmed over First amendment threats, but silent when the Word goes unread?
The church is hearing impaired. Weak and powerless, lacking a prophetic voice in these perilous times - an awful handicap. Is it time we stop obsessing over the nastiness outside the church and instead invite judgment to begin in the house of God? Survivability is at stake.
Organized Religion (originally posted on Sunday, April 10, 2011)
I sat with a family helping them plan their father’s funeral. Pastor’s do that sort of thing. A good man and a believer, they mentioned he did not attend church because he had been disappointed by organized religion. As they recalled their father’s good life, they were gratefully conscious of many things he had passed on to them. From what I know, most of his family - believers all - are not part of any church body. Another trait he passed along.
Usually, I sit quietly when hearing the often repeated disappointment with organized religion story. It’s a tough point to argue because some churches have behaved horribly. Possible Socratic responses race through my mind though, like, “Boy, do I know about disappointment with religion! Want to see the rope burns?” Or, “Did you realize the gospel of God’s grace isn’t really about religion?” Sometimes I want to ask, “Why didn’t that awful experience drive you to search for a good church? Couldn’t find one? Then why not start a house church or prayer group with a few good friends?” The big unasked and unanswered question for me is, “If everyone felt that way about church, who would you have called for help?” You see why it’s best to sit quietly.
Surely there are big disappointments on the job, in the classroom, at the grocery or bank - even in the family. Total disengagement is usually not the recommended path. Most don’t see walking away as the best option. Lifelong finality and rejection like that are reserved only for involvement in a local family of always fallible Jesus followers. Nobody gives up on buying gas or groceries because the clerk is a jerk.
Scripture endorses attachment to an admittedly flawed body of believers, reminding us that we forsake it to our great peril. Yet, corporate worship is abandoned by many and faithful attendance is treated as optional even by some who see value in sporadic attendance. Disappointments at work or in the home – even deep disappointments - are almost always trumped by necessity. On the job or in the family we keep at it because we must.
Those chased out of the church by disappointment may be unaware of how vital it is to be involved in the sometimes disappointing church Christ loves, built and died for.
Is it even possible to have a authentic and satifying experience with Christ, the Head while ignoring the church which is His Body?
When I encounter people who genuinely love Christ but have taken themselves out of the life of the church I grieve to think how much richer their lives would be if they invested themselves in a good church family and how enriched and encouraged other struggling believers would be by their generous investment!
Maybe the presence and prayers, giving and life sharing of a few more wounded followers of Christ would result in fewer disappointments with organized religion.
Usually, I sit quietly when hearing the often repeated disappointment with organized religion story. It’s a tough point to argue because some churches have behaved horribly. Possible Socratic responses race through my mind though, like, “Boy, do I know about disappointment with religion! Want to see the rope burns?” Or, “Did you realize the gospel of God’s grace isn’t really about religion?” Sometimes I want to ask, “Why didn’t that awful experience drive you to search for a good church? Couldn’t find one? Then why not start a house church or prayer group with a few good friends?” The big unasked and unanswered question for me is, “If everyone felt that way about church, who would you have called for help?” You see why it’s best to sit quietly.
Surely there are big disappointments on the job, in the classroom, at the grocery or bank - even in the family. Total disengagement is usually not the recommended path. Most don’t see walking away as the best option. Lifelong finality and rejection like that are reserved only for involvement in a local family of always fallible Jesus followers. Nobody gives up on buying gas or groceries because the clerk is a jerk.
Scripture endorses attachment to an admittedly flawed body of believers, reminding us that we forsake it to our great peril. Yet, corporate worship is abandoned by many and faithful attendance is treated as optional even by some who see value in sporadic attendance. Disappointments at work or in the home – even deep disappointments - are almost always trumped by necessity. On the job or in the family we keep at it because we must.
Those chased out of the church by disappointment may be unaware of how vital it is to be involved in the sometimes disappointing church Christ loves, built and died for.
Is it even possible to have a authentic and satifying experience with Christ, the Head while ignoring the church which is His Body?
When I encounter people who genuinely love Christ but have taken themselves out of the life of the church I grieve to think how much richer their lives would be if they invested themselves in a good church family and how enriched and encouraged other struggling believers would be by their generous investment!
Maybe the presence and prayers, giving and life sharing of a few more wounded followers of Christ would result in fewer disappointments with organized religion.
Location Location Location! (Originally posted on Sunday, April 10, 2011)
Anybody in trouble for this?
Certain statements leave little wiggle room. “It is a terrible thing to fall into the hands of the living God” appears to be in that category. “We shall all stand before the judgment seat of Christ” is another that leaves little work for the interpreters. These things are either completely true or completely false. So somber and final are they that believers would do well to assume they mean exactly what they say and that a day of reckoning before a righteous Judge is not optional.
Will church boards and pastors one day have to answer for their shabby treatment of the poor?
Another of those no wiggle room statements is from Jesus: “The poor you always have with you.” Examined closely, this is instruction about where to plant churches. If a body of believers looks around and sees no poor, they are in the wrong place. It’s not that neatly clipped lawns, raked, litter free flower beds, washed off driveways and sharp, attractive, well furnished buildings set on suburban lots aren’t attractive to the poor. It’s not even that a poor person wandering in would not be welcomed. In many cases good hearts would be open to them.
The problem is that many churches are planted far from the poor – maybe even with intention. Cities have suffered white flight and business flight but they have also suffered church flight as many by design have moved up and out and abandoned the poor and hurting for more upscale locations with visibility that draws a more upscale membership. Distance from the poor brings insulation and simple distance allows churches to ignore the layers of problems that are part of poverty and hurt that Jesus says is still out there – “always with you”.
Sending a skeleton crew ministry team to the rescue mission once a month or passing out peanut butter sandwiches downtown is no substitute for being surrounded by poor folks. Wonder why the Holy Spirit hasn’t told any prosperous churches in my city to relocate to a nastier area? Just a question.
The poor you always have with you, but not if you can help it.
The poor you always have with you, but not if you can help it.
Publicity (Originally posted on Sunday, April 10, 2011)
How different is our opinion of publicity and Christ’s. In journalism classes I learned that advertising is what you pay for. Publicity is free and could be worth much more than paid advertising. You’ve heard people say there’s no such thing as bad publicity. If your name, cause, message or church is recognized in the marketplace that’s what really counts. To be known at any cost and by the greatest number of people is the goal. In our day, magazines and talk shows feature vacuous people famous for being well known. Their great achievement invites the world’s fawning admiration.
“Leave here” – the backwater of Galilee – and go to the big city of Jerusalem whose swollen festival population will give You the greatest possible exposure. Do it, they urge, “so that Your disciples may see Your works that You are doing.” That unsolicited advice of Jesus’ own brothers would be an air tight argument in most Christian circles. Contemporary church leaders would see the good sense of their logic: “No one does anything secretly when he himself seeks to be known publicly.” The largest possible platform and publicity you couldn’t pay for!
Jesus attends the overcrowded celebration, but without fanfare, entourage or announcement. He goes by Himself. “Not publicly”. He sneaks in almost and goes intentionally unnoticed. The path of publicity is not his method. His methods grow out of His nature.
Our methods spring from who we are too. Most Christian advertising sounds no different than advertising for any other product or service. Promising much it likely delivers little. It sounds the same because the people using it operate with the same assumptions about publicity that Jesus’ dopey brothers did.
The Savior seems strangely inattentive to the well connected and self assured. The observation that those who imagine they are well have no need of a physician is daily confirmed by the reality that most moderns give little time to Christ. But, He does have a preferred method for drawing the lost and broken to Himself. “If I be lifted up, I will draw all men unto me.” Such an all inclusive statement indicates that the drawing force will be almost irresistible. It will work every time it’s tried.
To lift Him up I have to remove myself from the place of prominence. Until that painful surgery is self performed, we will continue trusting in publicity to do the King’s work.
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