A VIEW FROM A POINT

Femsculine Christianity

2012-02-10T08:35:00.001-07:00

There are many differences that exist between women and men. Just start with basic biology and it’s apparent. However, if we start at the beginning we discover something foundational that speaks to who we are at our deepest level of identity.

In the creation narrative the writer tell us that God created humankind “in his own image, in the image of God he created them; male and female he created them” (Genesis 1.27). Men and women are first identified as image bearers. While we have differences we also have sameness, and both are rooted in God ... +Continue Reading

2012-02-08T16:50:00.005-07:00

This should be required reading for anyone who is going to #vote in the 2012 election. #politics

Latest Teaching

2012-02-08T15:40:00.004-07:00

My latest teaching from Denver Community Church from Mark 12.28-34. Listen here.

Wounded by the Church

2012-02-07T09:37:00.002-07:00

Nearly every week I meet someone who tells me that they have been “hurt by the Church.” Every time I hear these words my heart breaks because I know exactly what they mean, and exactly what they don’t mean.

Many years ago my wife and I went through one of the most painful experiences in our lives. Our close friends and partners in a local church hurt us deeply. The fallout was massive. We lost friends who once called us their family. We lost a lot of money, and rumors about us abounded.

It wasn’t supposed to be like this. We trusted and loved these people and believed that they trusted and loved us. They invested in us and we invested in them. We were serving side-by-side in a local church. Then it was all suddenly gone.

I was effectively told that I was not worth it and that I was no longer needed or wanted. I will never forget standing in my kitchen the morning I told my wife of all that happened as we cried bitter tears together.

When someone tells me, “I was hurt by the Church” I know exactly what they mean. I have been hurt too. However, I also know what they don’t mean.

I believe that to speak of being hurt by “the Church” is a sort of safe way of speaking about our pain. It allows us to keep a sort of safe distance from the events that have wounded us, because the Church is a faceless thing.

Each Sunday our congregation gathers in a building in Denver. Some call this building the church. Many talk about going to this building to “go to church.” There are frequent questions about our church.

The word “church” is used in many contexts to mean many things. A building. An event. An organization.

There is an unspoken agreement on what we mean when we use the word in certain ways, but ultimately it is a term with a kind of generic meaning. What people don’t mean when they say, “I have been hurt by the Church” is that a faceless organization has hurt them.

What they really mean is that a person or group of people they associate with the Church has wounded them. As is often the case, to think or speak of their hurt in such personal terms stirs up painful emotion.

It is hard to talk about our wounds and say the names of our friends, pastors, or mentors who have caused the pain. Sometimes it feels like death to say exactly what they have done to us. Each time we retell the story something inside us replays our painful experience.

However, if we are ever to move past this kind of hurt and journey toward restoration that is exactly what we must do. Forgiveness can only exist where the truth is present and spoken.

This does not mean publically stating the person’s name and spilling all the details of their grievances. It does mean addressing the pain in appropriate ways, and if possible telling that person directly how they have hurt you.

There are no guarantees with this. You may share your wounds and offer of forgiveness only to have it thrown back in your face. This happened to me and made things even worse for a time.

As painful as this is, Miroslav Volf observes that in that moment you stand with the crucified and risen Jesus. The one who has given everything to offer forgiveness to all humanity, only to have many reject his love.

Of course for those of us who have been hurt, this is a terrifying idea. It means once again placing our trust in someone else. But the reality is that if we are ever to get out of our pain, we must go into it. We must acknowledge the hurtful moments and recall the injury. We must face down the lies that haunt us and tell us we are not wanted or unlovable.

For when we go into our pain, it is there that we will find Jesus. The one who bore our sorrow, our shame, and our pain. And in that place he will show us his wounds and we will hear him whisper, “I think you’re worth it and I think your lovable.”

If you have been hurt by the Church I know what you mean, and I know what you don't mean. I also know, through the goodness of God and his people, that because of those wounds I have experienced the love of God in a deeper way than I ever thought possible.

For in my wounds I found Jesus. One who knows exactly what we mean when we say that we have been hurt by the Church.

Stories That Expose Us (A Lived Belief, Part 2)

2012-01-26T10:07:00.004-07:00

In my last blog I wrote about the human tendency toward self-deception (read it here). This is not a new problem. It has been around as long as humans. When the first man and the first woman ate the fruit in the garden, they wasted no time telling a story about it was not their fault.

This mindset persists from generation to generation. Eventually the prophets in Israel rise up to confront this way of thinking. In Jesus’ day he spoke to this as well. Their approach was subtle but powerful. They knew that you cannot address self-deception head on. The person who is self-deceived will dismiss you and think you are wrong.

So, the prophets and Jesus told stories. Not just any story, but another story about those who were self-deceived and the world in which they lived. The stories, allegories, and parables they shared were told from a different point of view, and allowed those who listened to see the world from a different place. This viewpoint allowed them to see what they really believed (or how they really lived).

This is what happened when Nathan confronted King David. David had violated a woman by bringing her into his palace to have sex with her. She became pregnant and David got nervous. He tried to cover his tracks and that didn’t work. So he had Bathsheba’s husband murdered, and then married her.

As far as we know David’s life went on from this in a fairly normal way. Who knows what kind of story he told himself, but it seems that David was living in self-deception, until Nathan showed up and told him this story:

“There were two men in a certain town, one rich and the other poor. The rich man had a very large number of sheep and cattle, but the poor man had nothing except one little ewe lamb he had bought. He raised it, and it grew up with him and his children. It shared his food, drank from his cup and even slept in his arms. It was like a daughter to him.

“Now a traveler came to the rich man, but the rich man refrained from taking one of his own sheep or cattle to prepare a meal for the traveler who had come to him. Instead, he took the ewe lamb that belonged to the poor man and prepared it for the one who had come to him” (2 Samuel 12.1-4).

David was fuming and in his response yelled in anger, “The man who did this must die!” Nathan, in reply to David said, “You are the man!”

With this, David’s heart broke. Many believe that his response to Nathan’s words are found in Psalm 51, “Create in me a pure heart, O God … Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me … You do not delight in sacrifice, or I would bring it; you do not take pleasure in burnt offerings. My sacrifice, O God, is a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart …”

David’s response, when confronted with his life, is repentance. Contrast that with the chief priests who were confronted by Jesus in Mark 12.1-12 (read it here). Jesus told a story about a vineyard that exposed the evil they were taking part in. They wanted to take Jesus out.

Both David and the chief priests were exposed by a story told from another place. It is their responses that tell the most about their hearts. The stories we tell ourselves have the power to blind us to what is true about us, and have the power to expose what is true about us.

Our reaction to the moments we are exposed by a story will tell us far more about ourselves than any story we tell ourselves ever could. Which raises the question, “How do you respond when someone tells a story that exposes you?” How you answer that question just may tell you the truest story about yourself.

Stories that Betray Our Life (A Lived Belief, Part 1)

2012-01-23T11:30:00.001-07:00

Most anyone will be able to tell you what he or she believes to be true about our world, his or her life, God, politics, or nearly anything else. However, what we say is often different than what we live. And how one lives is what reveals true belief.

The words we say about our beliefs are often a story that we tell ourselves. It’s not unusual. In fact, nearly everyone I know does this, because there are some things that we want to be true about our world and about ourselves.

If we tell ourselves this story long enough, then it does not matter how we live. This is why so many can say one thing and do something completely different. Nearly everyone I have ever met practices this kind of life - it’s not hypocrisy, it’s self-deception.

A hypocrite is someone who knows they are faking it. They tell everyone what they want to hear, and all the while don’t mean a word of it. Their talk is just a cover for a hidden life. A person who is self-deceived, does not say what others want to hear, but tells himself what he wants to hear.

While all of this sounds devilish, it’s a surprisingly common part of how we live. This only pays testimony to the power that stories play in our world. Everyone I know believes certain things about who they are to be true. This belief comes by way of what has been told to them or they have told themselves.

This becomes their story, and they tell and retell this story repeatedly. These narratives become their stated belief, regardless of any lived reality. What they actually do matters less than their fiction world they choose to live within. This allows them to comfort and insulate themselves from how they really live (or what they actually believe).

This also happens with how we view the world. We believe certain things to be true about certain people, ideas, and cultures. We hear stories about them, and incorporate them into our story. What may actually be real or true is trumped by our paradigm. We can see this everywhere we look in our world.

For example, I do not know anyone who believes that modern slavery is right. On the contrary, they protest it and name it for the evil that it is. But is it possible that this is a story that we tell ourselves, so that we can go and buy clothes made from the children who are subjugated into forced labor?

Can we say that we think forced child labor is wrong when we wear clothes on our back that have been sewn together by the small hands a child? Does our story match our life?

I know many men who speak passionately about respecting women. Yet in their marriage and in life they are chauvinistic and exploitive in their relationships with women. Perhaps they have been told a story or chosen to believe a story that betrays how they actually live. This story allows them to continue on believing they respect women.

There are endless examples of how this plays out in our world, and how this plays out in my life … and your life too. But there is a way in which we can discover what is really true. A path we can take so that our words reflect our life. How we react to this path is what may tell us the most about who we really are.

(To Be Continued)

(Pro)American?

2012-01-18T10:45:00.004-07:00

After my last blog (read here) some still believe that I am Anti-American. So let me start by saying that I absolutely am not. I’m actually, believe it or not, Pro-American. Allow me to explain:

Jesus told his disciples to “seek first [God’s] Kingdom” (Matthew 6.33). Some think this was just a religious statement, but it was actually political.

In the minds of those in Jesus’ day religion and politics could not be separated. For the Jewish people God was God and King. For the Romans, Caesar was god and king. It was political and religious.

You see, even if Jesus was making only a religious claim about God’s kingdom, in the Roman minds, he was still talking about another king. For Jesus, the question was not, “God and Caesar?” but, “God or Caesar.” You could not have both. Jesus is still asking this question today.

We must hear the question, “God or the United States?” You cannot have both. Many, however, have been fooled into thinking we can.

Many believe there is to be a political solution for the world’s social ills. They think we just need the right candidate or legislation. They place there hope so firmly in a political solution, it seems as though politics is their lord and savior.

Jesus’ attitude was different. His called for full loyalty to the Kingdom of God. Make no mistake this has deep political implications. The apostle Paul knew this.

In his letter to the church in Rome, he speaks of the evil and oppression of the government. His instruction to the church on how to respond is this: “‘If your enemy is hungry, feed him; if he is thirsty, give him something to drink. In doing this, you will heap burning coals on his head.’” (Romans 12.20).

Paul’s response to the political evil in his day was to show humble kindness to the oppressors. Hundreds of years after Paul wrote this, Emperor Julian complained about the Christians doing just that. He wrote, “Those godless Galileans feed not only their own poor but ours." Paul’s instruction was heeded, and, years later, had deep political impact.

This story has played out time and time again throughout the history of the church. When the people of God dedicate themselves to the Kingdom of Heaven and seek the highest good for all people, political change is a result.

This is what Martin Luther King, Jr. knew. He did not begin his fight against his oppressors in the courtroom or in the halls of government. He and others, like Joseph Lowery, preached to the churches a message of love and nonviolence – even toward those who were oppressing them.

He said to his oppressors, “… Threaten our children and bomb our homes and our churches and as difficult as it is, we will still love you. Send your hooded perpetrators of violence into our communities at the midnight hours and drag us out on some wayside road and beat us and leave us half-dead, and as difficult as that is, we will still love you. But be assured that we will wear you down by our capacity to suffer and one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves, we will so appeal to your heart and your conscience that we will win you in the process and our victory will be a double victory."

It was his Kingdom mind and heart that brought change to the political landscape of his day. It is his legacy and dream that we are still seeing realized in our day. Dr. King’s complete devotion to the Kingdom of heaven had deep political implications for the United States of America.

As a citizens of the Kingdom of Heaven our full and exclusive allegiance is to be to God alone. He is to be our President and our Commander in Chief. In this, we are to seek to the highest good for everything and everyone in our world. We cannot only limit this to the USA, but all people, all countries, and all governments. So maybe, it's not Pro-American ... it's Pro-Kingdom.

(Anti)American?

2012-01-12T16:36:00.003-07:00

I have been asked on occasion if I am Anti-American. One time I was flatly accused of “not being Patriotic.” The questions, criticism and occasional accusation are fair but inaccurate. It’s not that I am Anti-American. It’s that I do not hold the popular belief that the United States is in some way an earthly representation of the Kingdom of Heaven.

In the past I have been a part of church worship services where the flag is flown, military images are displayed, and songs of praise are sung about America. In countless church buildings around this country the stars and stripes is proudly displayed next to the cross.

From a distance one begins to wonder who the people are actually worshipping: a crucified and risen Jesus or the United States.

The reality is that the Kingdom of Heaven cannot and should never be wed to any nation or empire on this earth. Jesus himself said, “My kingdom is not of this world,” (John 18.36).

Ignoring his words, some believe that God and Country go together like peas and carrots. While nothing could be further from the truth; some contend the Bible supports this way of thinking.

They point to the place in the New Testament where the people of God are told to respect, to honor, and to live in submission to the powers of this world. This is taken this to be an endorsement of governments, and means that God himself has given his stamp of approval.

However, we must remember that when those verses were written Rome was in power. Rome believed that Caesar was “Lord of Lords and King of Kings.” Roman coins pictured the head of Caesar with and inscription ascribing deity to him. It was this empire that brutally tortured and executed Christians because they said that Jesus was King, not Caesar.

None of this came as a shock to the early church. Even though God allowed these governments to exist, all the power and influence of them had been given over the evil one. These were the kinds of authorities that Paul and Peter instructed the church to respect and honor.

In the minds of Jesus, the biblical writers, and the early church the Kingdom of Heaven was separate and distinct from all other Kingdoms. It demands full and exclusive allegiance, which means that there is nothing left for other governments.

This is why Dorothy Day said, “If we render to God what is Gods there would be nothing left for Caesar.” She understood that our mind, heart, soul and strength were to be given over fully to the unusual Kingdom of Jesus. It just can’t coincide with any earthly nation.

It is our exclusive commitment to this Kingdom that will then influence the way we live our lives in whatever country we are in. As we live according to the Kingdom of heaven in imitation of Jesus we will be a tangible sign of God’s hope, love, and peace that our world so desperately needs. This can only happen when we learn that the “primary social structure through which the gospel works to change other structures is that of the Christian community” (J. Yoder, The Politics of Jesus).

Of course, some just think this is complete nonsense. They see the world is getting worse not better. Our earth is more polluted, violence appears to be escalating, and our country is increasingly post-Christian. But, is it possible that our world is like this because so many Christians have, for so long, given their loyalty over to the nations of this earth rather than devoting themselves to the Kingdom of Heaven?

Our heavenly dreams and schemes and hopes have been ill placed in halls of government. We have been seduced by the empire’s way of thinking that might and power will bring the solutions we so desperately need. It’s time that we put down the flag and pick up the cross. It's not Anti-American ... it's Pro-Kingdom.

Better Than the Middle Finger

2012-01-10T11:09:00.002-07:00

The middle finger is fascinating. The longest of all fingers, when raised, it’s message is unmistakable. Without uttering a word you can tell anyone, “F*ck You!” This gesture communicates in ways that words cannot. From car to car, to a large crowd without a microphone, or across a large crowded room. If they can see your hand, you can tell them how you really feel.

For some, raising your middle finger to drop the f-bomb on someone feels better than saying it. Many think that saying the “f” word feels too vulgar. Perhaps this is why so many have grown fond of extending their middle finger.

Today it is commonplace; woven into the fabric of our communication to the extent that most barely notice it. Last week I read more than a dozen blogs and many news articles. In several of them writers went to great lengths to pay a gesture to someone with their lone, central digit.

This may raise questions as to what kind of blogs and articles I am reading. Let me set your mind at ease. Many of the blogs were written by those who call themselves Christians. The articles were from respectable news sources.

So, what does any of this have to do with the middle finger? Good question.

In all the blogs and articles no author came out and literally wrote the words, “F*ck you!” What they wrote was slightly less offensive; like the middle finger. They did not have to say the actual words because their writing clearly sent the message for them.

Much of what I read was about someone else’s way of thinking or something another had said. The writers took it upon themselves not to address only to what was said, but also used their words to destroy the person who said them. It seemed less a response and more a hostile reaction.

The times I have extended my middle finger have been in reaction to someone who has made me angry. This is not an excuse, mind you, but an observation. For years it was a basic law of my existence. Every provocation was met with a middle finger. It works the other way too.

I have been flipped off too many times to count, and with good reason. I provoked the person to the point where their middle finger rose to the occasion.

Flipping a person off is nearly always a reaction to someone who has roused our anger. In my reading last week it dawned on me. Much of what was written was a reaction to someone who said or did something that roused the anger of the author. The articles were little more than a linguistic middle finger.

When we waste our time in reaction we don’t move anywhere. We just stall and hover over a particular argument. Soon the argument or issue at hand evaporates quickly, and our communication devolves into personal attacks.

It struck me as horribly unoriginal. These blogs were as uncreative as wildly, gesticulating with your longest finger, and annoying as someone who uses the word "f*ck" as an adjective for everything. Surely, we can do better than this. The world does not need more middle fingers. Most of us already have two, barring an unfortunate accident.

What we do need is fresh thinking that invites the consideration of new possibilities. Storytellers that incite imagination. Voices that paint an alternative picture of the future. This is necessary if we are ever to move ahead.

Of course, there is a warning in all of this. If you choose to propose new ways of thinking, or chart new territory that spurs imagination, chances are you will provoke someone. And that person may have grown quite fond of extending their middle finger.

I'm With Them

2012-01-03T16:30:00.002-07:00

Not long ago I was sitting in a crowd listening to a pastor speak. Each word that came out of his mouth held the attention of everyone. He then made a joke that sent the room into an uproar, but I didn’t laugh.

It’s not that I don’t have a sense of humor. I do, which is why I laugh at myself all the time. It’s that his joke was horribly unkind and was open mockery of a person who is a friend of mine. I do not remember what he said the rest of the time as I sat contemplating whether I would say something to him.

When he was done I decided to do approach him. We met, exchanged hellos, and then I said, “So-and-so is a friend of mine and is one of the people who influenced my being in ministry.”

This eloquent speaker stammered and stuttered as he tried to explain himself. It was painfully obvious that he wanted to be anywhere but right there.

What is interesting is that I did not accuse him of being unkind, nor did I tell him that his comment was a horrendous lack of judgment. All I did was identify myself with the person he mocked. There is tremendous power when we identify with another person.

One does not have to say anything more than “that’s my friend” or “that’s my sister.” Suddenly, if a person has been speaking ill of the other feels threatened or attacked. It works the other way too. A total stranger could say, “Your brother and I are great friends!” There is a sudden connection.

Throughout the Gospels there is constant identification happening in the person of Jesus. He does not identify with the powerful, but goes out of his way to be “one of them.” He eats with sinners, whores, drunkards, and tax collectors – people who were the undesirables. These meals were deeply connecting. By eating with them, Jesus told everyone, “I am with them and one of them.”

In Matthew 25 Jesus tells a story of those who cared for the hungry, the thirsty, the immigrants, the sick, those who can’t afford clothing, and those who’ve been locked up in prison. He says, “… whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.”

These people, at the bottom of the societal heap, are not only the brothers and sisters of Jesus. He is one of them. I wonder if his identification with them would still make some uncomfortable today?

When was the last time you heard an unkind comment made about an immigrant or a presumptive comment about the poor? For me, it was just a few weeks ago. The reality is these are Jesus’ siblings and, if you call yourself a follower of Jesus, they are yours too.

I often wonder how our world would begin to change if we saw “one of them” as “one of us.” It would surely change our conversations, but more importantly it would change our actions. We would have a greater sense of urgency in acting on behalf of the marginalized and vulnerable in our world. After all, they’re family, right?

Jesus is a Loser

2011-12-19T11:28:00.001-07:00

If Jesus played kickball as a kid on the playground I bet he would have been picked last. Not because he was not athletic, but because even though he was fully human he was also fully God. Which makes it safe to say that he was a loser.

In our “dog-eat-dog” American culture characterized by an all-consuming drive to win; we would not want Jesus on our ball team, as a part of political party, or as a warrior in our military. He didn’t win. He was hung up by nails in his hands and feet and killed by the winners in his world.

He lost everything, even his life, in the name of comforting the afflicted and liberating those enslaved in darkness. This is why the Apostle Paul said that when people heard the story about Jesus they would think it was absolute stupidity.

Today, most people still believe it is complete rubbish. Few would admit they believe this, but all one has to do to see what a person really believes is observe his life.

Jesus’ life was characterized by love, compassion, mercy, and grace. He identified with the whores, the irreligious, and those on the margins. One would think Christianity would resemble his life, but sadly it often differs. This is why the name of God and Jesus is often invoked in connection with power and might rather than humility and sacrifice.

There is no shortage of language, from self-professed followers of Jesus, marked by domination, power, and violence. Many seem to think that Jesus “gave it all” so we could “get it all.” And if that doesn’t work then we will “take it all.”

Military leaders speak of “God and country” and in the next breath threaten shock and awe. Christians who wish to see social change think in terms of political power. They smear the name of anyone who differs from their way of thinking, and speak of getting “God’s man in the White House.”

And what about God and sports? I played sports at a Christian college and the belief that “God was on our side” fueled the passion for winning. Some believe that God is on Tim Tebow and the Bronco’s side. Groups who use sports as a way to share their faith in Jesus put Philippians 3.14 on their clothing.

The famous verse says, “I forget about the things behind me and reach out for the things ahead of me. The goal I pursue is the prize of God’s upward call in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3.13,14 CEB). Obviously, Paul cared about winning! Well, yes and no.

The verses before these are about suffering and death. Paul is willing to experience this so that he might win the prize, which is resurrection. Paul’s win comes by way of a loss.

This is exactly how the life of a Christian should be measured. We must pursue sacrifice, generosity, love, compassion, and wining by losing. You could say that following Jesus means being a loser. There is no other way around it in the culture that we live in.

If that seems like utter nonsense, well it should. That’s what Paul said people would think when they heard the Jesus story. I mean, who would ever pick a kid like Jesus to play kick ball?

Being Christ in Christmas

2011-12-13T11:50:00.002-07:00

The usual clamor of the holiday season is occurring, and just beneath it is the faint din of anger.

Once again many have raised their voice regarding the “secularization” of Christmas. Armed with slogans like, “Keep Christ in Christmas” they ensure we will always remember this is a holiday about Jesus of Nazareth.

Common greetings such as, “Happy Holidays” are met with a defensive, counter-greeting of “… and Merry Christ-mas to you too.” Just try using the common abbreviation “Xmas.” Some believe this is literally “X-ing” Jesus out of the holiday!

What is glaringly absent from these vocal Christmas Crusaders is any protest against the consumerism, greed and selfishness that accompanies our normal celebration of the holiday season.

Retailers push gift buying for two months every year to cushion their bottom line. Herds of people stampede one another in the name of saving a buck on Black Friday. Churches sell tickets to their Christmas Pageants to subsidize their massive production budget. People shop, party, and travel to the extent that they barely notice the holiday they want to keep Christ in has come and gone.

This has become the common American way of celebrating the holidays, yet some are upset about those who choose to say “Happy Holidays?”

For many who do not celebrate the holiday this attitude is perceived as insensitive, not to mention a complete overreaction. However, these defenders of the “reason for the season” may be on to something.

This is a season that has been remembered and celebrated by Christians for centuries. The Church has historically called this time of year “Advent.” It is a time when the people of God anticipate and celebrate the coming of Jesus, “... though he was in the form of God he did not consider being equal with God something to exploit. But he emptied himself by taking the form of a slave," (Phil 2.6,7 CEB).

He came to join humanity in our suffering and in his death and resurrection brought peace, hope, and love to a hurting and broken world. Christmas is God’s way of constantly reminding humanity, “In all of your joy and in all of your struggle … I am here with you.”

The Church is not only to celebrate and remember the gift of Jesus; we are to imitate him and have the same attitude of mind he possesses.

I must admit, I am fan of keeping Christ in Christmas too. Except I really don't care if you call it a season or a holiday or something else entirely. What I care about is whether or not people see Christ in Christmas when they see his Church celebrating it.

Keeping Christ in Christmas has nothing to do with greetings. Rather, it is about the people of God being Christ in Christmas.

In imitation of the God we celebrate on this holiday we must empty ourselves and take on the form of a slave. In giving our time, presence, and resources to the hurting and broken we will remind all people that Christ is still here with us.

Perhaps this kind of celebration would lead us all toward a very Merry Christmas.

Throwing Rocks and Footballs

2011-12-07T12:46:00.002-07:00

Tim Tebow deserves the criticism he gets. Not because he occasionally throws a bounce pass to a wide-open receiver, but because he is a Christian - not just any Christian, mind you. He is one of those who will not keep his mouth shut about Jesus. So, Tebow is constantly criticized.

In response, many in the Christian community defend his right to talk about Jesus. For those who wish to defend him perhaps we should ask, “Why are so many people criticizing Tebow?” The answer may lie not with him, but with the many Christian public figures who have come before him.

Several years ago a person I met found out I was a pastor. He got visibly upset and talked about how he hated being around pastors. “You always tell me how bad I am,” he said.

He is not alone in how he feels.

In the past many Christians have condemned the LGBTQ community, cast judgment on the ACLU, and denounced the entertainment industry. Our bigotry has displayed fear and hate - not the love and grace of Jesus.

Then there are those who preach abstinence, fidelity, generosity, and family values only to have their façade collapse, resulting in moral fallouts. And what about the televangelists who preach health and wealth as they absorb more money all the time from their followers?

If we have ears to hear, we may come to understand that the way many see Christians is not positive. While some wish to blame the media or “liberals” for throwing stones at us; it would be honest to admit that we have been the ones handing them the stones they are throwing.

Christians, as a group, have unfortunately earned the mistrust in our culture - that goes for Tebow too. If only because he is guilty by association. He did not have to tell anyone he was a Christian, but he did and is now an object of scrutiny.

Christians seem to be unclear about our place in this world. We must remember we are not to be the “moral police” of culture, but are to live as “agents of healing” in our broken world.

Is Tebow a bigoted, punitive, hypocritical type of guy? Not really. All I ever hear, from people who spend time with him, is how gracious he is. He knows his job is to be an agent of healing. This is why he spends so much time with the underserved and is already being called a philanthropist.

Tebow has not earned the criticism. He inherited it through the pre-existing perception and reputation that Christians have created in our world. The rocks being thrown at him are not ones that he has handed to anyone. Yet even still, when he’s hit he responds with a smile and genuine kindness.

Perhaps someday when the Tebow story is told some will think differently about Christians. But why wait for him to change the minds of people? What are you doing to change the perception in your world?

You Don't Have to Preach Alone

2011-11-29T11:50:00.002-07:00

My being a pastor is direct evidence of God having a sense of humor. The truth is, he simply redeemed my incessant need to be the center of attention. I keep this in mind nearly everyday, especially when I preach.

There is something deeply serious and absolutely elating about standing in front of anyone to teach. From the first time I ever preached until now, my passion, joy, and dedication for it has only grown.

What continues to change the most in me is not my presentation or even my elocution. Rather, it’s about what is rolling around in my head and heart. At times, my dark side wants the sermon to be about my agenda or be filled with my thoughts.

Knowing the reality of my flawed self has caused me to invite many people to look ahead at the teachings to come. I want to consider the text from as many angles as possible.

Every month I spend time with our elder team sharing what is on my heart, listening to their thoughts, and discussing the text. Each week I discuss the upcoming sermon with my fellow pastors, asking them if I am on track.

During these times some ideas are pushed off the table, and new insights are gained. The more faithful I am to this, the more my ego is held in check, which is good for everyone. More than this, the more voices that speak into the teaching the more voices come through in the sermon.

Every time I teach there are many people from all walks of life who listen. The reality is I do not know (or consider) the viewpoint of each person. This is not because I do not want to, but because I am one person with a limited view on life.

Spending time with men and women who engage the teaching alongside me has broadened my viewpoint. Studying together brings light into places that I otherwise would not have seen, and lends confidence and credibility to what will be preached.

It is a dangerous thing to study in isolation for hours, prepare a sermon, and then go and preach it. If you’re anything like me there is tremendous potential to err when left to your own devices. After all, the Bible is a communal book, so why would anyone approach, study, or teach it alone?

Where is the Sermon Going?

2011-11-22T13:13:00.002-07:00

When I was young my parents forced me to sit in church with them and listen to the preacher. It was agonizing, until he began providing his sermon notes for the whole congregation. With these in hand I always knew how close he was to finishing, which made the pain a tad more bearable.

Ultimately his notes ruined any measure of intrigue or surprise. Everyone knew all of his alliterated points – including what letter they began with – from the start.

This would be like sitting down to watch a film that opened with a monologue from the director. He would explain where the story was located, who the characters were, and outline the plot, conflict and resolution. He would then conclude by saying, “Thanks for listening, now enjoy the film.”

You may be thinking, “That would ruin the whole thing.” Yes, in fact it would. But have you ever given much thought as to why?

It’s because a good narrative leads us forward not by giving us information, but by withholding it. We have to remain engaged in the story to see what will happen next. The best films do this brilliantly. They allow us to know where we are in the story, but enough is hidden to hold our attention.

Pastors must learn from this. Many preachers begin their sermons with an introduction of some sort, which are often a summary of the teaching itself. Communication theory would call this “sign posting.”

It’s telling people where the teaching is going (almost point-by-point), and constantly reminding them of where you have been. While this can help people locate themselves in the midst of a lecture, it also creates barriers and boundaries.

With "sign posting" the listener is not free to think outside the framework that has been constructed. Their minds and hearts are not invited to go anywhere because they have already been told where the lecture is going. If they desire to actively participate, they have to move with the speaker to the next predictable point.

By contrast, narratives invite us into a world of exploration and discovery (read my last post for more on this). When you are caught up in a magnificent story do you really want someone reminding you of where you have been or where you are going? Of course not.

You want to be free to think, imagine and consider new possibilities. “Signposts” get in the way of that.

In an age of information overload we don’t need more lectures; we need sermons that stir our collective imagination. The difference between the two can be found at the beginning by simply listening. Are congregations being told where they are going or being invited to listen and engage in a story?

The Need for Unfinished Sermons

2011-11-16T14:22:00.002-07:00

Some believe that sermons are dying. People contend that no one will ever sit and listen to anyone talk for more than 20 minutes without dying from boredom. Others contend that we have no attention span and need sound bites not lengthy lectures.

But what if it’s not the length of the sermon, or even our shortening attention span? Everyday in our country hundreds of thousands of people see movies at the theater. Most of these films are anywhere from one to three hours, and the moviegoers pay attention nearly the entire time. For the most part those people watch two kinds of films.

The first is the kind where by the end of the first scene you know the way it was going to end. Films like this rarely generate good conversation. Typically all that anyone can say is, “I like it” or “It wasn’t that good” or “My favorite part was …” That’s it. The storyteller has left little to the imagination because he finished the story for you.

Then there are films where you have no idea how it is going to end, and even when the film is over the story isn’t. It brought you into new territory and opened new possibilities that must be explored and (re)discovered. For days and weeks you discuss it, critique it, and think about it.

This is what good stories do – they do not provide answers for us, but invite us on a journey of discovery. This is also what good sermons do. They don’t answer all your questions, but send you in a direction to find out more. As we search we often stumble upon a new world .

By contrast, have you ever sat and listened to a sermon only to realize that you’ve heard this all before? You know exactly how it’s going to resolve and what points of application the pastor will give at the end. This is why so many churchgoers can’t pay attention. It’s hard to focus on something that is familiar, and even harder when it’s predictable.

These kind of sermons rarely generate good conversation. The listeners are left to speak in terms of whether or not it was “good” or if they “liked it.” They are not invited anywhere, because everything is complete; the story has been told for them. Sermons like these are dying and it has nothing to do with attention span.

Those who preach must leave things unfinished; allowing the teaching to bring others into new places. For it is not what happens during the teaching, but what others do with it after they have heard it that will make all the difference.

A (Non)Compelling Vision

2011-11-14T12:03:00.002-07:00

Jesus’ vision while he was here on earth was not very compelling. He was always talking about dying a violent death and inviting his followers to join him in it. It’s no surprise that no strategic guide for church growth includes this as part of its message.

Make no mistake, there is no shortage of vision in churches these days, it’s just that it doesn't speak about death. Rather, the talk is often about “building community” or “serving neighborhoods” or “continued growth.” It seems these things are opposed to the idea of death, but they are actually bound to it.

Jesus said, “unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” Growth comes from death. As a matter of fact so does serving and even building community. I learned (and am learning this) everyday.

Not long ago my wife and I had some friends live with us for a little over six months, then we had some other friends move right next door. It was our plan to live in community. We found out that it was glorious and difficult.

The difficult side was, and still is, that I don’t always get my space or what I want. Sure, it sounds selfish because it is. Sometimes I just want to do what I want to do. However, when you make the choice to truly “build community” your life ceases to be only about you.

This means I have to die myself and my selfish desires and choose hospitality and generosity. It’s only when this happens that life in community is glorious. Death of self precedes life in community, and the more one lives in community the more that brings about the death of self. It's an endless cycle.

And what about serving our neighbors? This is not just bringing giving them a cup of sugar when they are running short. It’s identifying with them in times of brokenness and sorrow as well as moments of joy and celebration. To identify with another person in her pain is to admit that we have brokenness too - it's allowing something to die.

To truly serve, live, and love like Jesus our attitudes must become like his. That is we must be willing to follow him to his death and die with him. This is what Paul told the church in Philippi in the second chapter of his letter to them (read it here).

Perhaps all the vision being cast is not bad or wrong; it’s just starting in the wrong place. For if we are to build something, continue to grow, or serve anyone it has to begin with death - or else we remain but a single seed.

The Sex Appeal of the Church

2011-11-09T14:42:00.002-07:00

Many churches have never looked better than they do today. Their buildings, websites, and worship services have considerable sex appeal. They display elements of cool, success, and celebrity packaged together brilliantly.

I was in a church building recently and was amazed by the beauty and magnitude of it - flat screens TV’s, vaulted ceilings, and a restaurant were just a few of the things I noticed.

One pastor, who paid a group of consultants to overhaul his church's website, told me, “Church websites just can’t compete, but now ours can.” I regularly receive unsolicited emails targeting pastors. Messages that promise make communication clear, concise and “well-branded.”

This same focus is concentrated on Sunday services too. They are a spectacle - a clever mix of laser-light shows, rock concerts, motivational speeches, and theater. The creativity that churches have the ability to muster is incredible, but there is a risk.

In doing all we can to create mass appeal we are showing people something of a façade. It’s like magazines in grocery store checkout lines. They feature pictures of men and women on the cover who are fit, attractive, successful, or famous (usually a combination of all these).

However, these magazines are cloaked in a thin veneer of perfection that, unfortunately, many fail to see. As a result we have been seduced by image, celebrity, and success - and allow ourselves to live in a world of make believe.

The subtle message being sent is to “be perfect.” So we live like we are at Disney World - the “happiest place on earth.” But has it ever occurred to us that Disney is also the least realistic place on earth? The trouble is the more time we spend outside of reality; the more difficult it is to return.

Regardless, many spend their time trying to make church a kind of Disney like experience by trying to be cool, building the brand, and crafting an image. In this, we lose the ability to be authentic, and when this is lost we cease to be the Church.

Perhaps recalling the central symbol of Christianity would help us a great deal – the cross. It is this Roman instrument of torture and death that God used to put love on display by bleeding and dying. This picture invites all who would come to die to themselves so that they might find real life. The cross asks us what's in really stirring in our hearts.

You can’t make honesty “well-branded.” Being real about who we are – in all of our failures and brokenness – is messy and dirty. Yet that is exactly what's real and what is so desperately needed.

Churches need to spend less time on appearance and more time in contemplation of the person of Jesus - who made himself nothing, humbled himself, and became obedient to death - even death on a cross. If we commit to doing that, the Church will look far better than we do today and have more appeal than ever.

No Spaces

2011-11-08T11:31:00.001-07:00

Many of you who subscribe to my blog have emailed me to let me know of the formatting problems with Google reader. The problem is that every few words there is not a space. This can make it difficult to read the blogs easily.

The issue appears to be a problem on their end, as Blogger has recently begun using a new template. I apologize for the problem, and have contacted Blogger to try and resolve the issue. Again, sorry for any inconvenience.

Not Much of a Joke

2011-11-07T16:46:00.004-07:00

“A rabbi and a priest walked into a bar …” Any story thatbegins that way is bound to be a joke. Jesus begins a story like this; exceptit’s not a rabbi or a priest or a bar. His story begins with a Pharisee and a tax collector going tothe temple (read the story from Luke 18).

These two men lived on the opposite ends of the social,religious, and political spectrum. A Pharisee was passionate about God’scommands and seeing the nation of Israel liberated from its oppressor, theRoman Empire. The tax collector was a bit of a different story.

His trade was known for corruption. Tax collectors wereknown to collude with Rome, bilk money from their fellow citizens, andit was safe to assume they didn't care much for God’scommands.

These two come to the temple to pray. The Pharisee goes first,confidently saying, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people - robbers,evildoers, adulterers - or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week andgive a tenth of all I get.”

Then it’s the tax collector’s turn. This guy stands in theback, can’t even look up, beats his chest in mourning and barely mutters thewords, “God, have mercy on me, a sinner.” Jesus concluded, “I tell you the taxcollector, rather than the Pharisee, went home right with God.”

Those in the audience would not have thought this was muchof a joke, since many were those confident in their own ability to be rightwith God. Some may even have been thinking, “I don’t get it,” and today, many stilldon’t.

To pray along with the tax collector is to tell God that wedon’t have it all figured out, that we are messed-up, and that we haven’tgotten everything right before showing up. It’s to lay bare before God andsimply say, “Help.”

But we are far too sophisticated to do that kind of thinganymore aren’t we? While we may not pray exactly like the Pharisee, we stillthink that somehow all of our good behavior or religious fervor will impress God. This is why somany of us do all we can to appear as though we’ve got our lives worked out. In reality, what we allow people to see is false front built to hide our hurtingand broken souls.

A friend recently lamented to me, “The world I live inpretends that everyone is perfect. So if you do something imperfect you getcrapped on. Why can’t we all recognize that we are imperfect. Then, if you happen dosomething perfect, we can celebrate that.”

His world is sad, but unfortunately for many, it’s true. Perhaps our prayers forourselves and others should have more heart and less words. Maybe all we needto say is, “Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner.”

“I tell you that the one who prays that prayer will go homeright with God.”

God as Subject

2011-11-03T16:40:00.002-06:00

Have you ever thought the phrase “personal relationship withJesus” was a tad curious? I’ve never understood it. One of my best friends is aguy named Jason Deugan. Most everyone I know calls him “Deugan.”

Never once in the more than fifteen years that we’ve beenfriends have I ever said, “I have a personal relationship with Deugan.” I askedhim about this, and he said he’s never said that about me either – but he didonce say it about Jesus.

What’s more confusing to me is that while we like to speakabout having a relationship with Jesus; we often relate to God more as objectthan subject.

We have particular beliefs about God, and when we meet otherpeople who believe the same things about God we can worship together. If theybelieve differently … well, they need to worship somewhere else. Most of thetime when I hear people speak about God, or speak to God, it sounds peculiar.

I say this because I never hear a person talk about theirspouse the way they speak about God. When I hear a parent talk about theirchild they don’t use the same words about God. When someone is describing theirdeepest, most intimate relationships with their friends it is not the same waythey speak about their “personal relationship with Christ.”

Perhaps its because for many, God is an object not asubject. It’s safe to say that God isGod; nobody or nothing will change that. However, as a relational being, Godrelates to his sons and daughters differently. Much like the way I relate to mywife, kids, and friends differently.

It’s not that I change, after all there are things about methat are fundamentally true. Yet if you were to speak to different people whoknow me well, while there would be some overlap in what they said about me,there would be quite a bit of difference. Some of what you heard would evensound contradictory.

Why would we expect God to be any different? While there aresome things about God that are true and unchanging he is in relationship withmillions of people who know God and are intimate with God in an untold numberof ways. This means there are unlimited ways of speaking about God as peoplewho are in relationship with him.

Some of these descriptions may differ and even seem tocontradict another. The response to this kind of thinking is often to quash anytalk of God that does not fit into one’s own experience. We think that if Godhas not acted that way toward us, then it cannot possibly be true.

Perhaps it would do us good to listen to others when theyspeak of how they know God. We may learn more (and be able to share more) abouta God that is beyond a “personal relationship” and is no longer an object tobehold. Just like a good friend named Deugan.

Disagree to Agree

2011-11-01T17:23:00.000-06:00

We have more choices about most anything in our lives thanwe ever have had before. There is a niche for most everyone. The masses havethe power to choose when, how, and what kind of information they will take in.Thinker and author Seth Godin wrote abook about this reality in his book titled Tribes.

While there are certain advantages to this new reality inour culture, there is also a dark side. Our ability to selectively choose whatinformation we receive has lead many to limit the number of voices giving theinformation. Those that we do choose are often those with whom we already agree. This skews perspectives rather quickly.

Most information is tainted with bias. The news media isfilled more with opinion and spin than ever before. As more people listen to onlyone side the spin they hear is mostly in one direction, and the perspectivethey see is from one place.

In this we become more isolated and spend our time with our tribe - the people who look, talk, and thinklike us. All of this leads to our attitudes and opinions being affirmed over and over again.

With this constant affirmation comes a tremendous increase incomfort. And we love comfort, don’t we? It seems that comfort - along withcertainty and security - are our most deeply held values.

We have lost the desire (or perhaps the ability) to listento someone who is not a part of our tribe and as a result have stunted ourgrowth. We only give any real consideration to those with whom we agree. Why?Because it’s comfy and cozy.

This insular culture has reduced our capacity for criticalthinking. We don’t have to think seriously about our beliefs and valuesanymore, because everyone in our controlled sphere that we call "our world" thinks and lives like us. Conversationis rarely a challenge to think or grow, but a time to reinforce deeply heldbeliefs rooted in biased perspectives.

And what happens when a person from outside our tribe breaksin and challenges our thoughts or beliefs? We attempt to destroy, not only theopposing argument, but the person posing the argument. Our narrow, one-sidedway of living has threatened our ability to speak with respect, dignity, andcivility.

It is commonplace to launch a violent, verbal barrage ofshock and awe on those from a different tribe. When this happens our tribeapplauds, because comfort has been successfully defended. And with so manycheering for this kind of toxic rhetoric, how could it possibly be wrong?

It is time to open the windows and unlockthe doors of our stuffy little houses of opinion, and let in the fresh air ofdescent. This would be our first step toward the discovery of things in thisworld far greater than comfort and security. Perhaps, our first step is to disagree toagree with all of those who inform our world.

F-ing Prayer

2011-10-27T14:09:00.002-06:00

Years ago I went for a drive at 1 AM. After driving aimlessly for thirty minutes or so I was at a stoplight. I looked up through my moon roof and prayed for the first time in months. “What the f*ck are you doing to me?”

That night in my car I vomited my rage, anger, sorrow, and fear all over God. It would have been censored if it were broadcast on network television. But in that moment that was all I had. There was nothing in me that could be happy or thank God for anything.

I hadn’t thought about that night until a few weeks ago. I grabbed a beer with a fellow, and he told me about the unexpected twists and turns in his life. His face screamed in pain as he spoke. He sat back, exhaled deeply, and said, “I just want to yell at God about this, but I want to have faith that he knows what he’s doing.”

Why do we make “having faith” and “raging before (or even at) God” things that are incompatible? What if these things go hand-in-hand?

I asked him if he was the kind of person that had an explosive temper. He chuckled and said, “Oh yeah.” Without my asking he told me about the latest circumstance that caused an outburst.

“In those moments is there someone you can call?” I continued, “The kind of friend that when they answer you can get rich to the screaming and yelling without saying hello knowing then won’t be offended?”

“My brother,” he said. His brother was his best friend; they talk about everything. He loves and trusts his brother because he knows that his brother will always love him.

I do the same thing as him. When my life is hard, when something angers me, or when I’m hurt there are friends I can call and unload on them. I know they are there for me. Friends like this remind me that I am loved and accepted exactly as I am. How much more God? Do we trust him as much as our friends?

Many people have this idea that faith precludes questions, anger, or doubt aimed his way. This is backwards. Faith is the very thing that allows us to do all these things. A beautiful display of faith is to trust God enough to give him our unfiltered pain, anger, and disillusionment – even if it gets explicit at times.

Faith is to be found not in our controlled prayerful monologues where we tell God what we think he wants to hear. Deep trust is telling God what’s really there - uncensored - knowing that he’s big enough to handle it.

God as an African Mother

2011-10-26T14:03:00.002-06:00

Imagine God in a hospital room where there is pushing, groaning, and gasping as a mother gives birth to a child. By the way, the mom - the one that everyone is standing around – is God.

In Paul’s letter to the church in Rome he wrote, “In the same way … the Spirit [of God] himself intercedes for us through wordless groans.” This causes us to ask, “’In the same way’ as what?”

That question will lead us to the verses imediately before where Paul wrote, “We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth ... and we ourselves … groan inwardly.” The Spirit of God groans along with creation and us in the pangs of childbirth.

This is not a deity who stands far off and winces when he considers the pain of mere mortals. This is a God who carries our pain within him - even pain as intense as childbirth. Which naturally raises the question, “God knows what it’s like to have a baby?” It appears so.

The prophet Isaiah points us toward this when God speaks about his panting and gasping “like a woman in childbirth.” The Hebrew and Greek word for “compassion” - so often attributed to God - come from the root for the word “womb.” This understanding of God led St. Clement of Alexandria to say “… in His compassion to us God became Mother.”

God knows quite a bit about being a mother. That means he is acquainted with the pain of childbirth, which causes the groaning of creation and makes us groan inwardly. That kind of pain is something that only moms can truly understand.

At least that’s what my friend Pam told me. She coaches soon-to-be moms through childbirth. Some time ago we were having a discussion about her job and she said to me, “My job is to help women have a good birth.”

A “good birth,” she explained, is when women surrender to the pain because they know there is benefit. This can only happen, however, when other moms are with her in the pain. That’s when she told of certain places in Africa where a woman in childbirth is never alone.

When a mother goes into labor the moms in her community come, place their hands on her, wail, cry out, gasp, and groan with the mom giving birth. Their sheer presence and ability to feel the pain with the woman in childbirth doesn’t remove the pain, but allows the mom to surrender to it. The benefit in all of this?

New life. Something miraculous happens the moment a child is placed into the arms of the mother - the pain is somehow suspended and the mother understands the benefit.

How can all of creation and all of us ever surrender to the pain to find the benefit? Because we serve a God who, like an African mother, knows the pain. So he gasps, pants, and groans with us until through the pains of childbirth.

Until at last, through His miraculous grace we discover that all the pain, suffering, and brokenness will bring about new life.

Consuming the Church

2011-10-18T16:30:00.006-06:00

The message is simple: Consume. This is the petition that billions of people receive thousands of times every day from global corporations, and it’s not even subtle anymore. One electronics giant recently released a television that they promised would “change your life.”

Consumerism has become so much apart of our world that one’s ability to amass material possessions is a measure of their success. We long for products, brands, and the latest amenities that act as a status symbol.

This way of thinking and living has largely been created by a partnership between producers (corporations) and consumers (you and me). They tell us what we need and want, and we oblige them by plunking down the cash to satisfy our hunger for more. It is an endless series of transactions that happens everyday.

To an alarming degree, we have traded in our glory as image bearers for a diminished role as simple consumers. Worse yet, many church leaders may be part of helping this happen.

In our world today more pastors and church leaders are soaking in the words, thoughts and philosophies of CEO’s, corporate strategists, and presidents of corporations. I recognize that several of these people are good, kind, and generous and possess certain insights about leading that would help anyone.

Nonetheless, these people are at the helm of large companies whose survival is in direct relation to production and consumption. Products are created, manufactured, marketed, and sold to people who possess an endless appetite for more. All of this boils down to one thing: “the bottom line.” If a company can reap profits, then they go on producing goods that will in turn be consumed.

Pastors and church leaders sit under this teaching of corporate philosophy, and many do a brilliant job of implementing these principals into the organizational life of their church. At the same time I hear many pastors lament about many in their congregations who are “just consumers.” Is it possible that their system is perfectly designed to yield the results they are getting?

The reality is that many who are a part of churches today are consumers. Many attend a church service on a Sunday, grab a cup of coffee, enjoy the show, are entertained, and then leave … until the following Sunday. When one church gets boring, or feels old they move on to consume somewhere else.

This pattern is, no doubt, a reflection of the constant message people receive everyday from corporations to consume more. However, the message within many churches is no different because those who influence the minds of many church leaders are the very ones leading the corporations that influence the minds of the general public.

Maybe it’s time for pastors to stop asking, “What’s wrong with our people?” and begin asking what may be wrong with our message and us. We need to offer our people a different way, and allow them to see what life is like beyond consuming.

This can only begin when we show them what this is like by the way we live our lives. If you're wondering what that life might look like - we should begin with Jesus who was not about consuming, but about giving his life for the healing of the world.

Criticism That Builds

2011-10-13T12:27:00.003-06:00

Many critics today only want to tear down other’s ideas. This makes sense as it is quite easy to destroy something. It’s building something that takes real work and creativity.

The best criticism will always present an alternative to an opposing idea, and chart a way forward. Since I offered a critique of criticism in my last post (read it here) I ought to practice what I preach and also propose some possible ways to better criticize.

First, give an honest evaluation of all the information. Listen to whole speech or sermon, read the entire book, or research the legislation. Do the hard work; this way, when you do speak, you are informed. We cannot let the opinions of others serve as our sole means of being informed. Learning yourself will allow you to learn more about the issue at hand, and can strengthen your understanding of the argument.

Second, present your argument fairly and allow the listener the opportunity to decide if he agrees with you. If a critic believes herself to be 100% right about something, then all that is needed is for her to present the argument in a clear and compelling way. The closer one can stay to the argument, the more people are invited to listen. Once insults, slander, and accusation begin to enter the picture people are instantly alienated and begin to choose sides. We don’t need the character assassinations - after all, the truth is what will win out in the end, right?

Third, do not offer a criticism until you are willing to accept criticism. Some of the harshest critics are those who hate being criticized. When we are willing listen to our critics we open ourselves to growth. Through them that we can see our blind spots and gain a clearer picture of the issue at hand. Good critics act like a mirror for our thinking, and when they hold it up it will do us good to take a long hard look. The best thinkers I know are those who listen to their critics and learn from them.

None of these ideas can happen, however, unless criticism is rooted in a humble heart. It is the humble that can offer a critique knowing all the while, it’s just an opinion of one person. In the end, their opinion could be wrong. The truth is, all of us are wrong about something - admitting this just may be the first step to becoming a better critic.

What are some ways you would improve criticism? Share your ideas. Together, we will be better and build something that lasts.

A Critique of Criticism

2011-10-11T10:48:00.001-06:00

In our world today the masses seem to have lost the ability to offer fair, well reasoned, and well-informed criticism. Worse than this is the reality that the most people lap up the thoughts, ideas, and ideologies of a few critics. Rather than scrutinize what they hear and read, they accept the information put forth as fact.

As this blind acceptance increases, the ability to form one’s own opinion decreases. The masses become tape recordings playing back the thoughts and opinions of others. I have heard many say, “I think for myself.” After listening to those people, however, I have come to believe otherwise.

What is needed is not more arguments for one way of thinking over another. What we need is a criticism of criticism. So, if you will, allow me.

First, Criticism does not offer all the needed information. Book critics will use one quote by an author that can be easily dismantled. In attacking political legislation critics share a small piece of a larger whole. Their audiences take the incomplete information presented and trumpet the criticism, thereby spreading an abbreviated reality. What they are saying is true, but without the full picture it can be horribly misleading. If a critic insists on using a few sound bites, it may do us good to ask why they are unwilling to display the full picture.

Second, criticism does not stick to the issues. In our world of opinion and spin what often bears the brunt of the harshest criticism is not an idea, but the person or group sharing the idea. It’s the whole “discredit the witness” gig. If we can make someone out to be a moron, then we do not need to listen to him. It has become commonplace (to a sickening degree) to mock, parody, name call, and spread false information about a person. This kind of behavior tells us little about the person being criticized, but can tell us a great deal about the emotional maturity of the critic.

Third, critics are often unwilling (even when given the chance) to speak directly to a person or group they criticize. It is rather easy to say what we want about a person when we believe we will never encounter that person. There are few who have to conviction and courage to criticize a person face to face. Critics who deserve attention are the ones who are willing to sit with the very people they criticize.

We need criticism, but we need more scrutiny than ever when it comes to listening to critics. We ought never be quick to jump to conclusions, but should always be quick to listen doing our best to understand what the other is saying. Perhaps if we are more critical of our criticism we may actually stumble into healthy conversation that will provide needed solutions to problems that are far more serious than our lack of good criticism.

Impractical Advice (Part Two)

2011-10-06T10:06:00.003-06:00

This summer my family and I went on vacation. When I returned my friend Jenny asked me how it was. I replied, “It was great. I unplugged from everything. Turned my phone off, my computer off – I had no idea what was happening in the world.”

She admittedly looked a little perplexed and asked, “Wow, that must have been hard to turn all that stuff off. How did you do it?”

I said, “I pushed the power button.”

We have fooled ourselves into believing that unplugging, turning off media, and shutting down the noise is impossible. Therefore, we tell ourselves, it must be for someone else. This is a lie that we have chosen to believe. Busy is our normal, which ought to concern us for busyness is an addictive drug.

I have learned that if I am not on Facebook, tweeting on Twitter, or if I cannot return an email or phone call the sun will go on rising and setting and everyone will be okay. As for me, I will not be just okay; I will be better.

Rest may be one of the most underrated aspects of one’s spiritual and emotional health. It’s no surprise then that it has also proven to be one of the most challenging. The most valuable things are often the most difficult to grasp.

Rest has not (and still is not) always easy for me. It is difficult at times to slow down and even harder to stop. I have found that this is often connected to what we discover when we do. When there is no phone, computer, television, music, iPad, or other distractions we are left with our very own self – our heart, our thoughts, our soul, our fears. There is no escape. Sounds terrifying, doesn’t it?

If you responded "yes" to that last question, your answer might help you understand why you don’t slow down. We may not want to believe this is true; so we create any number of reasons as to why we can’t rest.

We fool ourselves into thinking that we just can’t, or we are too busy, or we don’t have enough time, or we have to get this or that done. Perhaps we tell ourselves these things in an attempt to stay away from our own hearts and souls.

If this is true, then we must ask, “What am I afraid of finding in my own soul?” Answering it may help us to see the very thing(s) that scare us out of slowing down. The catch is, you have to slow down to answer the question. Which naturally leads us to another question, “When will you slow down to ask and answer the question?”

Impractical Advice (Part One)

2011-10-05T14:38:00.004-06:00

Research suggests most people will not wait more than eight seconds for a web page to download. Why? We just don’t have the time anymore.

Our world is moving at a blistering pace. Thankfully technology has given us more ways than ever to save time, but strangley we now have less time than ever (another blog for another day).

Since our time is precious, I will make this quick and get to the point. This is what we want more and more these days - the point, the bottom line, the answer, we want someone to "give it to us straight." As a result our curiosity is diminishing at an alarming rate. We care little about why or how something might work; we just want to know if it does. We want things to be practical.

People long to know the three things they can do to eat better, the seven behaviors they can employ to ensure a healthy marriage, or learn the top secrets of the successful. The problem is that this does not work, which is why new books are always being written about new behaviors that are bound to work. But they don’t work either. If you have a moment, perhaps you might consider why.

When we shape our life around a few practical behaviors we remain a good distance from our own souls. We focus our energies on not doing this and starting to do that. It is simply a matter of mental discipline.

Give me enough time and focus and I can act in any way you ask, but that may have nothing to do with my heart or my soul – it’s only behavior modification. This does not change anything; true change comes from within.

Religion can teach us a thing or two about this. It cares more about our behavior than our hearts. When I was growing up there was a long list of rules, and there were plenty of people who kept these rules perfectly. They had very practical instruction and stuck to it.

The problem was that some of these people were quite mean spirited, bigoted, unkind, and indifferent toward those who were not like them. This ought to have raised all sorts of questions about their hearts, but it rarely did because their ability to follow rules was perfect. Our world today is very religious, isn’t it?

We tend to care less about what’s inside when compared with what others can see outside. From the world of business, to the Church, to the family – we just want it practical. After all, who has the time to dig into their heart, and move beyond behavior? If only there was an app for that …

When our chief concern is “practical advice” we can easily gloss over what lies beneath the surface. Jesus never seemed to concerned about practicality, he was always upsetting people back then and still upsets us today. He goes there and invites us to do the same. If only we had the time to journey within ... but that’s so impractical.

More Thoughts About Leaving the Church

2011-09-28T14:29:00.003-06:00

Occasionally pastors who are called to move onto broader ministry leave their role within their local congregations (See my previous post). This is no doubt a difficult decision for them, but this does not stop some pastors who have left their congregations from being critical of them. This has cause me confusion.

A good part of the reasoning behind the criticism lies within what one critic called “validity.” The thought is that if a pastor is no longer connected to a local congregation then he or she somehow loses credibility. They no longer speak with the same rootedness and connection they once had to congregational life.

I can understand this kind of reasoning, but I disagree with their sentiment. I am also confused by this reasoning, because I'm not sure the critics agree with their own sentiment either. Many Christians (and thousands of pastors) spend a great deal of time listening and learning from non-pastors.

The two leading Christian Leadership conferences in the world the feature speakers who possess strong insights, invaluable experience, and tremendous depth. However, the majority of them are not, nor have they ever been, a pastor of a local congregation. They are business leaders, authors, entrepreneurs, and even an occasional rock star.

None of these people bear the validity that pastors turned authors or speakers supposedly lose. Nor have they ever had the rootedness of time spent "in the pulpit" as a pastor of a local congregation. Are they less valid? I would think not, and apparently so would many of the critics.

I listen to and learn from all sorts of people in all kinds of contexts from all different ages. Augustine, Peter Rollins, Seth Godin, John Piper, Chuck Palahniuk, Homer (not the one from Springfield - but him too), Dominic Crossan, Socrates, Robert McKee, Abraham Heschel, Jay-Z (he's not a businessman he's a business, man), Leo Tolstoy, and Keith Green have all taught me and challenged my thinking along the way. Many of those who express concern about pastors leaving their congregation would probably say the same thing, which leads to my confusion.

If I may ask just one clarifying question to help me overcome my confusion: “Why criticize a pastor who leaves his or her local congregation to speak to a larger audience, but pay money to attend a conference so that you can sit under the teaching of a person who has never been a pastor?”

The former pastors invite concern and criticism, but the business professional receive our acclaim and applause. From where I stand these two things seem contradictory. What do you think?

Some Thoughts About Leaving the Church

2011-09-28T14:04:00.001-06:00

In the last few days there has, once again, been criticism of pastors who follow a call outside that requires them to leave their congregation. This has been the case with pastors like Brian McLaren, Francis Chan, Jim Belcher, N.T. Wright and, most recently, Rob Bell.

Critics have claimed that in leaving their churches they have less accountability and validity. This would be true if they were abandoning the Church, but they’re not. Perhaps this attitude comes from a narrow understanding of the church, which informs our attitudes about pastors and preachers.

Leaving a position within the church has little to do with accountability – that has to do with one’s heart. Consider the many pastors who sadly experience burnout, a moral failure or the exposure of scandal. They are still a part of a local congregation, but seemingly avail themselves to little accountability.

In contrast, I just spoke with a fellow who travels, speaks, writes and consults who is not a pastor, though he used to be. He has several faithful friends around him and his family who hold him highly accountable. He engages the church frequently through the love and care that he and his family receive from their community.

When the definition of “the Church” is limited to a local congregation or parish then the criticism makes a little more sense. But how we understand the Church should not be confined to our cultural understanding. My friend Fernando, who is from Cuba, once said to me, “In Cuba we have churches but few buildings. In America, we have buildings but few churches.”

He knew that the Church, as the people of God, is a reflection of the Kingdom of Heaven here on this earth. It is far bigger than the tiny institutional box we tend to place it in, and when we attempt to define one’s role according to that - we fall short. People like Brian McLaren, Francis Chan, and Rob Bell have gifts that serve the Kingdom our hurting, broken world.

Rather than criticize them for leaving the Church we should seek learn from their example. Their courage to hear God’s call can teach all of us how large the Church of Jesus really is. Let’s pray not only for them, but for their families and fellow sojourners, that God will sustain them as they labor for the Kingdom.

To my many brothers and sisters who have stepped away from their roles within a local congregation to obediently follow the path to which Jesus has called you, thank you for teaching me so much. “May God bless you and keep you, may he make his face shine upon you and be gracious to you, and may he turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

The Beautiful Life of Troy Davis

2011-09-21T23:09:00.001-06:00

Tonight, Troy Davis was executed by lethal injection. There has been outrage over his execution, as many believed he was innocent of the crimes for which he was convicted. Others claimed he was justly condemned and believed he should die.

I do not wish to use this blog to enter the arguments over his guilt or innocence. However, I do believe that we should take time to consider how we think about life. A few years ago I preached with this in mind, and I raised the question regarding what it truly means to be pro-life.

Wait! Wait! Wait! If you are reading and thinking that this is just another lame, fundamentalist slam on people who believe in the rights of women to choose, please read on. I will say at the outset that I believe every human life is valuable, and I believe that all people - born and unborn - have a right to live their life (I hope you are still reading).

Spencer Perkins spoke toward this when he said, "To join demonstrations against abortion, I would need to know that you understand God’s concern for justice everywhere … It is not a simple, glib response, then when I must counsel an unwed teenager against an abortion, even though I believe with all my heart that abortion is morally wrong. I feel that if the love of Christ compels me to save the lives of children, that same love should compel me to take more responsibility for them once they are born.”

Today the term “pro-life” has become a synonym for “anti-abortion.” However, this term is rather incomplete. Sure, there are many men and women are against abortion, but should they really refer to themselves as pro-life? Having heard comments and seen attitudes from those who claim to be “pro-life” comments I have cause to think otherwise.

At the beginning of the second war in Iraq a parishioner said to me in our church’s building, “I hope we bomb the hell out of Iraq!” Another person I know once told me, “We should nuke North Korea and fry ‘em all.” Can a person who makes such hateful and vengeful comments about war that show little concern for mass loss of life truly call themselves pro-life?

Over the years many who claim to be pro-life make horrid comments about prisoners on death row. The news of execution is met with one-liners such as, “Good riddance you sick-o,” or “Fry baby fry!” When a person says such things can she continue to claim that she is pro-life?

And what can we say about racism? How ought we view hate speech and hate crimes against a person because of their sexual orientation? Many of these things happen by people and groups who claim to be pro-life? Can one degrade a human through words and actions and really claim she values life?

While anyone can say they care for the unborn that does not automatically mean they are pro-life. Especially when they speak about and treat human life with zero value and little concern. If we are to be truly pro-life then we must value all life, in all places, in all times, and in all circumstances. We must remember that all men and women are the image of a merciful, loving, forgiving, and compassionate God. Whether that person is guilty, innocent, a terrorist, an insurgent, an American, gay, straight, black, or white – it does not matter. There is no “them” there is only “us.”

Which means that when bloodlust and vengeance surge within someone and give birth to a desire to see someone die on death row or be obliterated by a bomb they no longer see that person as their equal. They have made a judgment about the value of life, and at that point cease to be pro-life. It is never our prerogative to assign value to human life; that was done when God “created humankind in his own image.”

So what are you? Just “anti-abortion?” Only “anti-war?” Are you “anti-death penalty?” While all of these things have merit, by themselves they are incomplete. We have to see that all life is beautiful, precious, and valuable. In the words of Cardinal Joseph Bernardin we must possess a “consistent ethic of life,” and learn to live with a seamless garment of life.

Regardless of what you think about the guilt of Troy Davis, his death is a tragedy for all us. He was a man created in the image of loving God. A God who believed his life was and is beautiful.

information about transformation

2011-09-20T15:10:00.003-06:00

In 2006 it was predicted that by 2010 the amount of digital information in the world would double every 11 hours. Exactly how that was computed or estimated still remains somewhat of a mystery. Regardless, it makes for an interesting opening sentence in a blog.

This estimate introduced people for the first time to the term terabyte, which is a thousand gigabytes, and 1/1,000th of a petabyte. Today to speak of exabytes, zettabytes, and yottabytes may seem like science fiction, but in the next few years they won’t be. We will need more and more storage for all the digital information in our world.

If you were to enter the search term sad and creepy clowns on Google you would get about 3,760,000 results in .24 seconds. If you were to look at every result listed for one second you would be sitting in front of your computer for more than forty days. We as humans are hungrier than ever for information and we have more than enough at our disposal.

For many this great amassing of information is seen as progress, but that may be deceptive. The belief that this is progress is rooted in the deeper belief that the more information we have the better off we will be, but this is not really the case.

Ask any smoker if their habit is bad for their health, and they will more than likely say “Yes,” - although they may not want to admit this. Ask them what health risks exist with smoking, and if they’ve done any light reading they can tell you about lung cancer, heart disease, and emphysema, just to name a few.

A friend of mine who is vegan once told me, while smoking a cigarette, that he chose to be vegan for “health reasons.” As he inhaled on his additive free American Spirit cigarette it was apparent to me that he had amassed a lot of information, but it had zero effect on him. This is like so many who sit on pews in church buildings every week gathering more information about God, Jesus, and the Bible and yet experience so little life change.

We may fare better in filling our minds up with less information and giving our minds, hearts, and souls over to transformation. Information, at its base, it simply amassing answers to questions; whereas transformation dives below the surface to wrestle with the implications and meanings of the answers. Information often sees the answer as the finish line, but for transformation it is only a starting line. As it turns out information is a much easier thing than transformation – you can Google that.

Transformation comes through exposing what’s true about you deep inside the places that are normally reserved for hiding what’s true about you. It’s exploring how you relate to God, others, the world, and how you relate to yourself. This is far scarier than reading about something, or sitting and listening to information being presented. It can mean going to some dark places and finding find brokenness, shame, guilt, and dirty secrets.

Typically we just want to read about something to understand it, but transformation defies this. You cannot think your way into it; you can only live your way into it. This is why it is so tremendously difficult. Some believe that transformation is so tough that it is a supernatural event that can only come about through great pain, great love, or both.

As followers of Jesus we are not called to amass information, but to the long, painful, scary journey of continued transformation. In my experience, American churches today do not provide space for transformation in the same way they provide space for information overload. It is possible to teach people about God for years and years, and in the end realize they have not learned anything. The same cannot be said about what will happen if we lead others toward transformation by showing them what it looks like.

Perhaps, with all the information we now have access to, we have missed the beauty, complexity, and simplicity of true transformation. This may just be the one thing we all need more information about.

Chaz, Carson, Playboy, and Dancing With the Stars

2011-09-07T15:19:00.005-06:00

Who would have thought the show 'Dancing With the Stars' would stir such great controversy that it would make headlines? A few days ago I read an article from the BBC about a new call to boycott the program. Several groups who self-identify as Christians are doing what they can to create a stir because of two contestants who are on the show this season.

One contestant is Chaz Bono, the child of Sonny and Cher, who is transgender. The other is Carson Kressley, of 'Queer Eye for the Straight Guy', who is gay. There are some who are outraged over this, going so far as to claim that the show is "completely unacceptable” and that Christians have no excuse as for watching the show. Others claim that this is just another example of the media pushing a “sexual agenda on American Families.”

I believe that everyone is entitled to have an opinion, and that they are entitled to share that opinion with anyone who will listen. Today, many are choosing to make that opinion known about Chaz, Carson, and 'Dancing With the Stars.'

Their opinion is that what this show is doing is ultimately a subtle undermining of the family and further destruction of family values. Therefore, to protest the show is something they consider important. This sort of behavior is nothing new. In the past many have reacted strongly toward the LGBTQ community for any number of reasons. So when Chaz Bono and Carson Kressley were selected for the show it is just another reason to go on the offensive.

What is fascinating to me, however, is that these groups have been silent about this game show until today. They state their concern is to protect family values, which is fine and good. However, in the last few seasons there have been two Playboy Playmates on this show and these groups have said nothing. In fact one group suggested that until now 'Dancing With the Stars' was something that could be a "family show."

I recognize that not everyone shares my viewpoint on pornography, but research has shown its negative effects on men, women, the family, and society. Philip Zimbardo speaks toward this in his talk “The Demise of Guys?” This should cause concern for those who have given their lives to protecting and defending the family. I say this because there are staggering numbers of people engaging in pornography, and if Zimbardo is right, we have a serious problem.

Which then leads me to ask the question, “Why were these groups silent when there were Playboy models on the show?” Was that not a “sexual agenda?” Does this not represent a threat to the family? Would this be “partially” acceptable and not “completely” unacceptable?

If they are truly concerned about the family, then it stands to reason they would attack anything that threatens it, especially something that has proven to be as toxic as porn. But they don’t, they only attack over certain issues. Unfortunately Chaz Bono and Carson Kressley have been forced to bear the brunt of unfair accusations, harsh criticism, and unloving attitudes from these groups. It may do well for these groups to be honest and admit that perhaps they have an agenda too.

The Psalms of Eminem

2011-09-06T16:19:00.004-06:00

A few weeks ago I said to a friend, “I think that if Eminem lived in the days of King David he may have written a psalm or two that would have made it into the Bible.” He thought I was crazy, and perhaps he was right. However, I still stand by that statement.

Eminem hit the big time in 1999 and was met with wild acclaim. He drew a mainstream audience that had, until his arrival, largely remained distant from hip-hop music. Perhaps it is because Eminem is white, and (paraphrasing his words) people “connected with him too because he looked like them.” He has constantly garnered attention on the music scene and away from music.

He has had a long list of well-documented problems - drug addiction, a difficult upbringing, public lawsuits, and his tumultuous relationship with his ex-wife. Beyond this his lyrics have been considered by many to be vulgar, sexist, and violent. Over the years people have protested his concerts and tried to censor him.

To say that Eminem is controversial is a bit like saying Northern Alaska is a bit chilly in the midst of winter is, one might say, a colossal understatement. To suggest that he could actually have been someone whose words could have been recorded in the pages of Scripture is, one might say, a colossal overstatement. Yet, in the midst of a troubled life and raw lyrics there is a redemptive thread in his music.

The redemptive thread in the music of Eminem echoes the same that one finds in the collection of Psalms in the Hebrew Scriptures. Many often think and speak of the Psalms as a book filled with the praise and adoration of God. While there is a considerable amount of that in the book, almost half of the Psalms are laments.

The Psalms of lament are brutally honest lyrics that reflect the concrete realities of everyday life. Within the book of Psalms are confessions of dark secrets, desire for vengeance, violence, and deep expressions of doubt, confusion, and anger aimed squarely at God himself. The language in the laments portray deep trouble, torment, and anger in language that many Christians may want to censor if they were written today.

These laments charge before God with gut wrenching lyrics. Some are directed toward enemies such as, “Happy is the one who seizes your infants and dashes them against the rocks” (Psalm 137.9). There are lyrics of hopeless surrender like, “You have taken from me friend and neighbor - darkness is my closest friend” (Psalm 88.18). Psalms that question God over his neglect, “Why do you hide your face and forget our misery and oppression?” (Psalm 44.24).

Beyond the lyrics of the Psalms are the poets and musicians who wrote them. King Solomon penned a couple of songs that made it into the Book of Psalms. We know that he could not keep away from women, which led to him having almost 1,000 wives and concubines. It was his weakness with women that led him away from God. While his story is sultry, what about his dad’s?

Solomon was the son of Bathsheba, the woman who had a tryst with David, Solomon’s father. As the story goes, Bathsheba got pregnant from their encounter, and David wanted to cover it up. Which involved deception, betrayal, and eventually murder – none of which worked. David was so violent that God told him that because he was a man of blood he could not build the temple.

You may be thinking that while this is true, a man like David confessed his sins. Well, so does Eminem. On his latest solo album he has a fascinating line where, when struck by lightning, he calls out to God saying, “Alright then I quit, God I give up. Call it evil that men do, lord forgive me for what my pen do.” It sure does not measure up the sanitized confessional prayers we have all been taught to pray, but he is talking honestly to God in his all of his imperfection.

For Eminem there is a brutal honesty in his music that is admirable. He is willing to say the things that no one else is willing to say, even when it’s profane. He speaks of his anger, sorrow, hatred, fears, love, and rays of hope in a smashingly candid way. It is from this place that he cries out to God, who sometimes, as the Psalmists says, seems to be hiding his face.

You, like my friend, may think I am crazy. That's okay. However, I do not believe people or things have to be “Christian” to be sacred. In the same way people and things do not need to be “non-Christian” to be secular. There is always a bit of both in everything here on this earth. Perhaps we should not be so quick to throw something out that makes us uncomfortable. Maybe we should hold it and seek to learn from it. Perhaps we have more to learn than we realize from the Psalms of Eminem.

My CHurch Membership Card

2011-08-25T16:52:00.004-06:00

The Pub on Pearl, is a neighborhood pub that is right behind our church building. Since I’ve been here, I have become friends with the owners, and often find myself in conversation with them. A few weeks ago I was speaking with Brent, one of the owners, and he said, “I was thinking about stopping by some Sunday to check out the church.” He paused for a second and then said, “I don’t need to have a card or anything to get in, do I?”

“No,” I said, “we are not Sam’s Club.” As he sees it, church is something that is distant and foreign. The church he has gotten to know are the people who are a part of Denver Community Church who grab a burger and beer at his establishment.

This conversation has been on my mind quite a bit lately amidst conversations that I have had, articles that I have read, and teachings that I have heard about “church membership.” Maybe Brent has heard something about this too, which is why he thinks he needs a member’s card.

I have nothing against church membership. However, I do think that it has fallen on hard times, and maybe for good reason. Many today question whether or not it is needed, if it matters, and ask why they have to be a member. To those legitimate questions and concerns there are many answers, but the answers don’t seem to be enough – or maybe it’s just the thing the answers overlook.

Some of the most common responses to those who question church membership begin with a few bible verses with historical examples from the Church squeezed in. This is confusing, because there is nowhere in the bible that advocates church membership. While some want to say "it's biblical" it really is not. If we are honest, it is a construct that has developed from culture.

This does not mean that it is right or that it is wrong, there are lots of things we do everyday that are fine and are not biblical. But when we quote verses and throw the biblical word in front of membership it sounds like we think we've got it nailed. For me, I still do not see membership anywhere in the Bible, at least not in the way that it’s been done in the contexts I’ve been a part of.

In the scattered places I’ve been, membership consists of, among other things, learning about the church’s history and theology, claiming to be a Christian, agreeing with the church’s polity and doctrine, agreeing to submit to church leadership (including discipline), and having to be interviewed by a church leader. After a person goes through this all the rights of membership or open to them. Typically this means they can vote for or against the budget, nominate and vote for elders, deacons, bishops, and pastors, and a few other "privileges."

It is quite like a mix of becoming a member of a private club, and becoming of age to vote in an election. When I hear people advocate this I always get a little uncomfortable, others however, do not.

Recently someone said to me, “Church membership is needed now more than ever, because it will teach the younger generations something about commitment.” They went on to talk about commitment issues that plague the emerging generations, and how signing their name as a member would be good for them. “They would learn about submission in this process,” he said as he finished his pro-church membership monologue.

And it’s this attitude that brings me back to the thing the answers overlook. That being, the heart. What matters most with regard to church membership is the heart of the member. While some believe that church membership is a safeguard for doctrine, a mode for discipline, and a way to foster commitment, let’s be honest. What does a signature mean anymore?

People sign for credit cards and loans everyday only to default a short time later. People sign marriage licenses everyday – till death do them part – and our divorce rate is at an all time high. There is a reason litigation lawyers make a lot of money. Signing your name, for many, is just ink and paper. More times that I can count I have seen a church try to discipline or restore one of her members only to have the member leave. What could they do? Remind them of their signature?

To say the signature matters is to stop far short of what really does, namely the heart. Perhaps we should lay off preaching church membership so much, bending verses to make them support it, and calling it biblical. Our time should be given to displaying what a shared, committed, authentic, communal life looks like. The truth is no one will engage, submit, commit, and share life because of a piece of paper, an interview, or mental ascent to church polity.

This can only happen through heart and life change, which is what the Bible continually addresses. If we more time looking at our own hearts, and truthfully sharing them with others we may have more committed members than we ever have had before. And those members can tell their friends, “No, you don’t need a card to belong.”

Please Do Not Tell it Like It Is

2011-08-18T16:31:00.003-06:00

For as long as I can remember people have spoken of others who “talk straight” in an admiring way. Just yesterday I read an article praising a pastor who does not “candy-coat” his messages. A few weeks ago someone was telling me about a pastor they know who “doesn’t waste any time” because he just “tells it like it is.”

This kind of rhetoric has often seemed to me to be unloving, arrogant, and insensitive. It makes the assumption that a person can make authoritative, absolutist statements to others who willingly ingest them. This kind of communication smacks of power and not humility. Those who speak this way demand to be heard, rather than showing a willingness to earn a place in conversation.

Let me unpack this a little.

When someone says that a person “tells it like it is” that’s often not true. They tell it as they understand it to be. Every viewpoint is a view from a point (which would be a smashing name for a blog). Most people have an opinion, a perspective, a way of seeing things and those things should be heard. For it is with diverse perspectives that we gain greater understanding and clarity – not only about an issue but also about ourselves.

When a person shows up, speaking louder than the rest and says “Let me tell it like it is …” it diminishes the thoughts and insights of others. This is why this style of rhetoric carries an arrogant edge, for the one speaking is telling all who will listen that his message is what’s most important. It’s saying, “I am not interested in what you think.”

Those who routinely practice “straight talk” often lack the ability to listen, which in turn stunts their ability to learn, which in another turn (didn’t see that one coming did you?) is why they rarely have anything new to say. I think they know this, which is why, over time, they become increasingly louder and angrier. Maybe they feel stuck, and they don’t know what to do about it.

It’s this attitude that pursues “power over” and does not approach others in a posture of humility. Jesus was all about “power under.” In his teachings Jesus is calling on people’s imaginations. His communicated in stories, and always asked questions. Even when he was asked questions, he rarely answered it head on. It must have driven those “straight talkers” crazy!

By fostering conversation, telling stories, and asking questions Jesus forced his listeners to think and take a good hard look at their heart. He always did this with love and humility as he not only spoke with others but listened to them too. Jesus’ biggest concern was not “getting heard,” but for people to see their hearts. He knew that “telling it like it is” often doesn’t provide space for people to get there.

Some believe that "truth needs to be heard" at all costs, which makes "telling it like it is" okay. But let's not forget that if this happens in an unloving way, it's counts as nothing. Maybe this is why so many people have stopped listening to dogmatic pastors and angry politicians. If there is no love they are only a clanging pots and pans - people don't hear anything. Jesus told stories in humility - and yet his message has endured for 2,000 years.

Jesus spoke in the tradition of the prophets. The prophets spun rhymes, acted out messages in dramatic fashion, and wrote poems that were comforting and disturbing. A common hook for the prophets to hang their message on was, “They LORD has said.”

Frightening – not so much for the one’s hearing the message, but for the prophets. They were proposing to speak, not just for God, but the very words of God. Which means they had to listen well. For all that has been said about the prophet’s messages, I am more amazed by their ability to hear God. The prophets listened well.

My hope is that someday people may say of the people of God “they listened well” and that we don’t only have ears to hear ourselves. For it is through the act of listening that we learn to speak well. May our desire for brevity and insistence on the “bottom line” never lead us to “straight talk.” For while the shortest distance between two points is a straight line, let’s be honest, linear conversation is boring and rarely leads anywhere – especially the heart.

Resting for a Traithlon

2011-08-09T13:24:00.002-06:00

When I first decided to do a triathlon the only thing I could think about was training. Swimming, biking and running – nonstop. So I did just that. In fact I over-trained and now have a hint of shin splints. Until now I had no idea that you could over-train for a triathlon. What I have learned is that rest is as much a part of training as working out is.

This caught me by surprise since I am quite an advocate of rest. If you know me well you know that I am always encouraging people to rest. In our world today we seem to, not only lack the ability to rest, but have no concept of what that actually means.

A few weeks ago my wife, kids, and I went on a vacation to Southern California. When I returned people asked, “Did you get my email?” or “I texted you and never heard back.” I then told them that I was “off the grid” and explained that I had turned my computer and phone off. One person said, “Wow, that must have been so hard!” I replied, “Actually it’s not. You just push the 'power' button on the computer and phone until it shuts off.”

We can’t forget that rest is something that God himself created. While he called all of his creation “good” it was only rest (or Sabbath) that he said was “holy.” It was entirely different. More than this, God created rest on the last day. It was, in some ways, the crowning achievement of his creative work. Rest was the goal.

Often we consider rest to be something we have to do so we can “get back at it in the morning.” Our goal is doing, working, moving, shaking, and we rest so we can do that. Which means that when we rest we are only thinking about work which isn’t rest – it’s mental work. For the Hebrew people, they knew, that rest was a gift and that we worked to rest, not rest to work.

This is why the writer of Hebrews speaks about the people of God entering a Sabbath rest in the world to come. It is this kind of life that will greet the people of God in the world to come. Rest is not a beginning it is an end. It reminds us that we are human beings, not human doings.

I was doing so much for the triathlon that I began to injure myself. In an attempt to be in great shape my body was getting into bad shape. So I began to rest. When I train I push myself hard – but when I rest I do the same. In that time my body recovers, builds back up, and is able to gather itself.

This is difficult for me, for I truly enjoy the workouts. But each day I remind myself that when I rest I will become better. Perhaps we should all consider this for life. We ought to remind ourselves that we need to stop, rest, and recover – after all that is where we are heading in the world to come.

Join The 1010 Project, The ERACE Poverty Team, and me in my rest to raise awareness and funding for the Global Entrepreneurial Academy. Click Here To Learn More.

Why We Don't Like The Prodigal Son Parable

2011-08-08T11:01:00.004-06:00

The most popular of all Jesus’ parables is the one that has come to be known as “The Prodigal Son.” This story has inspired musicians to create music, poets to spin rhymes, and artists to render paintings and sculptures. It is the most marvelous picture of grace ever conceived, but we really don't like it.

In the opening line of the story Jesus said, “There was a man who had two sons …” The story is not only about one son, but about two sons (I know, brilliant exegesis). Yet we seem to often ignore the other, older son. Some claim this is done in innocence, due to the extravagant love of the father showered upon the younger. It's so beautiful that it’s all one can see.

I contend there is another reason – perhaps subconscious – that we ignore the older son. It’s because most of us are more like the older son than we ever would want to admit. It’s because we don’t like the kind of people the dad is running toward. Since we don’t like the people who are being embraced and loved by the father we would just as soon not go into the party. We’ll sit outside complaining about our father’s other son.

Let’s be honest, in our world there are people that we just don’t like. It’s true for me. Maybe you’re the kind of person who just likes every person you meet - I bet I could introduce you to some people who would change that. Beyond our petty differences there are those who have wounded us deeply.

Recently I was with a fellow who told an agonizing story about such a person. His wounds were fresh and deep. Often, as he was telling the story, tears would brim to the edge of his eye and he would go silent to compose himself. The wounds he was dealt affected everything - his finances, his marriage, his career, and his family. As I listened to my friend and watched him fight back tears in my heart I knew that the father would run past us both and embrace the guy who had wounded him. It just does not make sense.

A few days ago, an article that was written by a pastor enraged my friend. She emailed it to me and asked me to read it. It was terrible, arrogant, and deepened an already impassable divide. I was furious. I wanted to send him an email and tell him how miserable he was for patching together such condescending prose while passing it off as a helpful article - how could he do such a thing? He had just made the list of people I do not like (did I mention I am judgmental toward judgmental people?).

Then I got to the bottom of the page. While the article had been written and circulated, the pastor had issued an apology and asked forgiveness for writing it.

I saw the father running right past me to this guy. The father reached him and you know what he did? He threw his arms around him and kissed him. I think I even heard the father say, “This son of mine was dead and is alive again, he was lost and is found, let’s celebrate!”

Are you kidding? Dad, did you not see what he did - why would I ever go to that party? So I stood outside calling curses down on this guy for what he had just gotten away with. I heard the door of the house open and close which interrupted my curse-filled, inner monologue. I turned and saw the father coming to me. He put his arm around my shoulders and begged me to come inside the party to see my brother. Suddenly, I did not like where I was.

I am the older son.

It’s so much better to imagine ourselves in the position of the younger son. We are inside the party - music, drinks, friends, food, dancing – it’s the only part of the story Disney would ever adapt for the screen. It’s such a happy picture.

It’s when the people who have wounded us, the people we don’t like, the people from the other side of the aisle, or the people we call “them” are in the position of the younger son that we stop liking the story so much. It’s in this moment that we stand with the older son. Anytime we, through our words, thoughts, or actions, create a different picture of the father's response to the younger son we are guilty of creating God in our image.

We want to breeze through this story as we imagine the father running, hugging, and kissing us while we party with the people we like. It’s wonderful to be the younger son. However, we often find ourselves in the place of the older son don't we? It’s this twist that makes this story in all its simplicity very complex. That’s what makes this story so difficult and why I’m convinced so many of us just don’t like it very much.

What we must never forget is this. When we are in the place of the older son, as terrible as it feels, the story is not over. The father is still there with his arm around us, filled with love for us, begging us to come to the party. The question we are left with as we stand outside is this: “Will you come in and party with the brother you don’t like very much?”

Trying a Tri

2011-07-25T09:47:00.004-06:00

Earlier this year I received a free, three-month membership to the Denver Recreation Centers, which meant that I had full access to all they offer - including their pools. I told a friend, who also has a membership, that I was in for free for the next few months. He said to me, “Good, start swimming I want to do a triathlon with you.”

You have to understand, my friend is a machine. He runs ultra-marathons (races from 50 miles to 100 miles in length). A few years ago we did a lot of cycling together, and I could barely keep up with him – and he was on a single speed. For him, doing a triathlon is like you or me running up a flight of stairs.

I wanted to say “no,” but he was insistent. He kept saying, “You can totally do this.” I reasoned, “How hard could it be?” After all I am usually in pretty good shape. I run often and spend a lot of time on my bike … add in a swim and this should be easy. Then I swam.

After 50 yards I swore I was going to drown.

For one minute I hated my friend for talking me into this, but I knew that I could not back out. I had committed to the triathlon, and promised him that I was going to do it. At this point I began to get my house in order, since I figured I would probably drown. Sure, I’d make the paper the day after the race, but for all the wrong reasons.

A few days after my first swim I looked the website for the triathlon, and saw that by doing the triathlon you could raise money for good causes. One organization that was an eligible recipient was The 1010 Project. Their name comes from John 10:10 where Jesus says, “I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full.” They believe that they can be a part of helping people see this promise of Jesus realized.

The 1010 Project has “officed” out of our building for the last several years. In addition to becoming great friends, I have been amazed by the work they do. They partner with people through business and community development to end poverty in Kenya. In November I had the opportunity to travel to Nairobi and witness their work firsthand.

The 1010 Project plays an integral role in helping to lift people out of poverty. They come alongside struggling entrepreneurs and those who have received small loans and teach them the basics of business to ensure their financial success. The success of their students allows for them not only to eat every day, but also to make their communities better. In my time there I met and spent time with Josephine, Paul, Johannes, and Immaculate.

Immaculate founded the business “Mother’s Concern.” Through her business Immaculate offers care and support to those with no hope in the Kayole slum of Nairobi. Mother’s Concern assists orphans, in particular young girls who are often the primary caregivers for their entire family. In addition to assistance she also provides job training in the hopes of providing a better future for orphans and preventing the prostitution of young girls.

She does all of this and generates her own incomes by selling jewelry, tailoring, and producing juice. Today, Mother’s Concern has provided job training to over 100 young women, enabling them to make a safe and healthy living. Immaculate’s impact will be felt for generations to come. An impact that has been made greater because of The 1010 Project.

When I found out I could help, not just The 1010 Project, but people like my friends Josephine, Paul, Immaculate, and Johannes I was really down with doing the triathlon. The first thing I did was officially join The ERACE Poverty Triathlon Team. Then, I began to research about doing a triathlon. I put together a training schedule and decided to challenge and stretch myself, because I know how hard women like Immaculate work, and I didn’t want to take an easy route. On Saturday, September 3 I will be doing an Olympic Triathlon (1 Mile Swim, 25 Miles Bike, and 6 Mile Run). I am learning everyday about training. Over the last four days I have swam two miles (without drowning), run over 10 miles, and biked 41 miles. Anytime I feel tired I think about all the work The 1010 Project is doing.

When I swim, run, or bike I say to myself over and over, “Work as hard as Immaculate. Work as hard as Johannes. Work as hard as Josephine. Work as hard as Paul.” I think about the thousands of lives they are changing, and I push just a little harder. I am doing this triathlon not because waking up at 6:00 AM is fun, but because I can do something to bring awareness and resources to a great cause.

The good news is that you can join me. From a small donation of $1.00, $5.00 or the magic amount of $10.10 you can support people like Immaculate, and be a part of changing lives in Kenya. In addition to your gifts, my wife and I have decided to match the first $100 in giving.

If you would like to donate click here.

If you would like to get Twitter updates on my last six weeks of training, click here.

To learn more about The 1010 Project click here.

A Culture of Influence

2011-06-28T11:36:00.002-06:00

All of us have questions we would love to ask Jesus. Here are a few I would ask if I was given the chance.

“Does God really know how many hairs I have on my head or is that a metaphor of how well he knows me?”

“How many stars are there in the universe?”

“How badly did Peter irritate you?”

“How excited were you when U2 cut their first album?”

“What is the airspeed velocity of an unladen swallow?”

There is one question though, that I really, really want to ask him. “How would you ‘create a culture’ of loving, forgiving, and caring Christians?”

I would want to ask him this because talk of culture has been a conversation that I have heard over and over within the context of the local church. Ideas abound as to how this is done.

People say things like, “We need to set the bar high” or “We need to call people to a Kingdom life” or “We need to cast a clear and compelling vision” or “We need to act and move with purpose.” All clever maxims to be sure, but maxims that reflect deeper philosophical underpinnings.

Ideas like these suggest that we need to create a culture that influences people. After all, it’s worked with the media. In our image-logo-slogan-laden society we have all been tricked by mass marketing to believe any number of things. Culture has influenced us.

In order to gain a share of this influence then, we must create a culture that will influence, right? I’m not so sure. Perhaps we should not try to create a culture that influences people, as much as we should cultivate people that influence culture.

Often I hear pastors, in positions like mine, always speaking of ways to influence people. The problem is their idea of what this looks like begins on a platform or from a pulpit. When this is the case they have forgotten something. Most people are not listening to pastors and politicians anymore … I said, “Most people are not listening to pastors and politicians anymore.”

Well, at least not when we are on a platform with a microphone strapped to us. Sure they’ll sit around for a while and listen, but communication research shows that people barely remember anything they hear during a speech, homily, or sermon.

In fact, I do not know many people who have experienced vast life change upon hearing a sermon. I know few whose life direction has radically shifted upon hearing an articulate presentation that casts a preferred picture of the future.

Perhaps we should think less about “creating a culture” and more about “cultivating people.” It’s hard work, slow going, painful, and much dirtier, but that’s real life isn’t it? Which causes me to wonder, "How much is “church” anything like real life?"

Many churches fashion themselves according to corporate culture. They create systems, structures, and plans that will achieve this or that. They create programs and tell people how they are going to journey toward God. This at times causes them to be guilty of commandeering some else’s spiritual formation. Some even contend we have to “strive for excellence.” In the end, much of our time and energy goes into plans, programs, and excellence.

All of this makes sense of course if we are trying to create a culture, but not if we want to live out a real, true, "everyday life." Everyday life is messy, confusing, unpredictable, and often less than excellent. We pretend that we have plans, but we don’t. We learn that plans change, shift, and fall apart. We go through life learning, sinning, growing, at times becoming bitter, and if we are fortunate enough stumbling into grace or maybe grace stumbles into us.

What I am learning is that few churches with all their slick programs, corporate strategies, and policies feel anything like real life. They feel more like a movie or a play showing that require us to suspend belief. They want to create a culture, and often fail to walk in the messy, confusing, unpredictable thing called life.

We should spend more of our time lovingly walking alongside whomever God brings along our daily path. Doing this, of course, in such a way that they will want to imitate that kind of love with whomever they bump into on their daily path. In this, they might learn something about the love, grace, and compassion of Jesus and we might learn something too.

This takes time. It is slow. It is never a straight line. It is agonizing.

Yet, as we allow the love of God in us to pour into someone else they may begin to see the intersection of life and faith in fresh ways. As we allow ourselves to be broken for others they may begin to learn about the God who suffered with us. As we show our scars and tell stories of our healing they may learn about the grace of God – the glue that puts us back together one piece at a time.

As we sojourn with others through the best of life and worst of life we all may begin to better learn how to imitate the Jesus, the human face of a loving, forgiving, suffering God. Perhaps then, we may see a people who, in their everyday lives, act as a healing agent and through that influence culture.

Jesus is Weak

2011-06-09T09:00:00.005-06:00

I was told yesterday rather bluntly that my view of Jesus is wrong. I was told that I see Jesus as too meek and weak. Therefore, this person told me that I too was weak and no follower of Jesus.

As I thought about this hurtful comment I began to realize something. He is right. Well, he is right about me anyway. Not that I am not a follower of Jesus. I am, just not a very good one at times. He is right about my being weak. The irony is that what is my weakness is the very thing is often mistaken as a sign of Jesus’ strength.

I am learning to see that often we allow the idea of strength and power to be defined by our cultural context and not by the person of Jesus. In our world, so often, might makes right. The one who is justified at the end of a debate, argument, or battle is the one who can silence their opponent by any means necessary. The winner is not necessarily the one with the best argument.

Perhaps this is why we see more people slandering others who disagree with them while never giving it a second thought. If we can make those who think differently out to be idiots then we can tell ourselves (and anyone who will listen to us) that we are right. We have to be. After all, our opponent is an idiot and we are not. Idiots cannot be right and are always wrong. Therefore we are right.

This kind of hostile rhetoric and arrogant thinking is considered strong, and widely accepted, implemented and supported by those who self-identify as Christians. Those who take action, dash another to pieces, or can “stand-up” for themselves are thought to be strong. So this person who told me I was weak pointed to “strong Jesus” and mused about his driving moneychangers out of the temple with whips. As the thinking goes, this is evidence that Jesus could and would power up without apology. He was strong.

However, this idea of what is strong is actually to speak of what is weak. I know this because this is where I am weak.

I am guilty of powering-up, wanting only to be right (regardless of what is true), and often place myself above others. Occasionally in these moments I win. I win the argument. I belittle someone. I come out on top. Yet at the end of the fight all I have done is display my weakness rather than display any real strength.

In those moments I operate out of my ego not out of a transformed heart. When I power up it is motivated by fear and insecurity not rooted in grace and mercy. When I bury someone in a landslide of words I am only showing my dark side not bringing any light into the conversation.

Many would observe my behavior in such moments and believe that I am strong. It is this kind of strength that we may want to assign to Jesus. But this kind of strength is just a violent kind of weakness that was never in the heart of Jesus.

While some may want to point to Jesus driving people out of the Temple, let’s not forget what happened before he did this. Jesus rode into Jerusalem on a donkey. A donkey was an animal of peace, which was in contrast to a horse that was an animal of war. Kings rode horses. Generals rode horses. War heroes rode horses. Jesus rode a donkey.

In his gospel, Luke tells us that as he rode into Jerusalem, Jesus began to cry. He wept. His sorrow for those who were about to kill him was too much. He longed for their salvation, their peace, and their healing but it was too late. It was with this sorrow-laden heart that Jesus went into the temple and performed a prophetic act.

Let’s not forget that the temple mount could hold more than two million people on it. One guy driving out some moneychangers had nothing to do with Jesus trying to reform a system. It was a prophetic act (coupled with the cursing of the fig tree) that revealed a broken system. This is why Jesus quotes the prophet Jeremiah pointing out the corruption in some of the Temple leadership.

When we view Jesus as an angry cuss who opened a can of whoop-ass against those crooks we may just be seeing something that is not there. Unlike me in my weakness, there was never an ounce of ego in the anger of Jesus. He operated out of a broken heart not a heart filled with anger.

Throughout the Bible we learn of a God who is heart broken over the plight of humans (Genesis 6, Hosea 11). What kind of cosmic deity would ever let his heart be broken by mere mortals? That sounds weak doesn’t it? In the ancient world deities were fierce, powerful, and didn’t take crap from mortals. Not this one though, he was grieved in his heart.

It is this cosmic deity that comes and lives among us in the person of Jesus. He is led like a lamb to the slaughter. He is punched, mocked, accused, spit on, beaten, and slandered yet never opens his mouth. He is nailed to a Roman instrument of execution and taunted. Those who hate him say, “What’s wrong Jesus? Can’t you get down from that cross?” What they are really saying is, “Aren’t you strong enough?”

The answer is, of course, “Yes. He was strong enough.”

Strong enough to stay on that damnable stake that was a curse to humanity. Strong enough to look at those who were mutilating him with a whip and love them. Strong enough to not hit back. Strong enough to not return an insult. Strong enough to say, as he neared death, “Hey Dad, forgive those who are doing this to me because they don’t get what they are doing.”

If Jesus had of called an army of angels, and crushed the Romans and those who were corrupt and oppressive he would have simply played the same old tired game that humanity has played since the dawn of time. The game that says violence, power, and might are what wins because that is what is strong. Jesus did not play that game because he knew that’s not what real strength is. Jesus took an instrument of power, and by suffering on it in weakness put on display what true strength is.

Perhaps this is what Paul meant when he said that Jesus “disarmed the powers and authorities, he made a public spectacle of them, triumphing over them by the cross” (Colossians 2.15). People in Rome would have laughed at the sentence.

They would have thought Paul was out of his mind to think that any victim of crucifixion “triumphed.” They did not triumph. They died. In the mind of the Romans the cross showed the power the Empire of Rome and was a symbol of their political and military strength.

Paul says, Jesus bled and died on the cross and triumphed. And therein lies the upside-down nature of true might in the Kingdom of Heaven.

It takes real strength to swallow your ego and not return an insult. It takes deep strength to bless those who persecute you. It takes tremendous power to love your enemies and pray for them. It takes supernatural might to forgive those who have wounded you again and again. In the context of the Kingdom of heaven what is weak is strong.

Everyday of my life I struggle to come to grips with this mystery. This mystery tells us that unless we die we cannot live. This mystery tells us that until we release others in forgiveness we will never be free. This mystery tells us that weak is the new strong.

Maybe that person who spoke to me was right. Not just about me being weak, but about my perception of Jesus being too weak. Maybe I do view Jesus as being too weak. For when I truly contemplate his weakness, I am awed by his incomparable strength.

Missional as the New Legalism, Part Two

2011-06-07T15:16:00.001-06:00

Mark told a story in his gospel about a controversy between Jesus and a few religious experts (See Mark 7.1-23). The controversy surrounded the issue of ritually washing one’s hands before eating food. In this story, Jesus’ disciples were not washing their hands before they ate. This caused the religious experts to ask Jesus why they were not “living according to the tradition of the elders.”

Jesus told them that it was not about the rituals, traditions, rules, and lifestyle that religion offers. None of these things made someone clean or unclean. It was about what’s inside you, namely the heart. Jesus told them that out of the heart came “evil thoughts, sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly.” He said that these things come from inside and defile a person.”

Let’s be honest, if that is what lurks inside of us why even go there? It’s messy, dirty, and shameful. Perhaps it’s better to just cover it up and not disturb it, which is what propels legalism forward. Legalism allows you to perform without ever asking questions about what is inside. So we get busy doing all sorts of things and ignoring our hearts, but when we ignore what’s in our hearts it doesn’t go away. It festers, it grows, and at some point it will spill out.

A family that I know spent their entire lives working for a Christian Evangelistic Ministry. This particular ministry was very concerned with how people on their staff were performing. A few years ago the father of this family I know was diagnosed with a terminal illness. He died shortly after. It was then that all the dirty laundry of their life came out.

He was an alcoholic. He was abusive. Their marriage was a sham. All of this and they lived next door to another family who worked for the same ministry. His wife confessed that while they both knew things were bad they could never have said anything. No one wanted to know what was in that man’s heart. Probably because those in leadership of that ministry did not want to talk about what was in their heart.

Unfortunately stories like this are rather common. Men and women saying all the right things, doing all the right tasks, and acting out a beautiful spirituality, but in the end all of these things are only a mask. Which is why Jesus called those religious experts “hypocrites.”

Hypocrites were actors in the theater who wore masks. Their masks bore exaggerated features so people could tell what kind of character they were. Yet, while people saw the mask they never knew who the actor behind the mask was.

When it comes to acting, what matters is the mask. When it comes to legalism what matters is the performance. But when it comes to Jesus what matters is the heart.

The more people in the church are only told “go and do” the more in danger we are of overlooking the heart. If the insistence from pastors to their people is only to “be missional” we may ignore the transformative journey. It’s easy to do.

Being missional is good and right. But sometimes, the cleverest trick the Evil One plays is getting the people of God to do a lot of things that are good and right so we fail to see the one thing.

A few weeks ago I sat with some pastors who were talking about being missional. They were telling stories of their sermons that challenged their congregation to be missional. They spoke of this book or that book that gave good insights on being missional. They spoke of a conference that was all about the missional movement.

Eventually the talk of transformation arose. One pastor commented, “Just be careful, the more you tell people to focus on their own transformation, the more focused on yourselves you will be, and the less missional you will become.” This is true only if we are teaching them to be transformed into something other than Christ. It is impossible to become more like Jesus and not live missionally.

Beyond that, why, for so many, is this an “either-or” proposition? It is, and must always be, a “both-and.” Mission and transformation cannot be separated, one leads to the other and the other to the one. However, if it is only about “doing” then we may just have the one or the other, in which case we miss the heart – the very thing that matters to Jesus.

Missional as the New Legalism, Part One

2011-06-06T14:56:00.002-06:00

Over the last few decades a word has crept into the Church that technically, is not even a word. Even so, the word “missional” has found itself used nearly as much as the name Jesus. Some churches even choose to use it to describe what kind of church they are (for an example, click here).

This renewed emphasis on “being missional” has been much needed for the Church. For far too long the Church has attempted to act as the moral police for culture, rather than existing as a healing agent to our hurting and broken world. The idea of a “missional” Church calls the people of God to rightly serve, give, care, and love like Jesus did.

As you can imagine much good has come from this. There has been a reawakening of God’s concern for the poor and vulnerable, a greater understanding of social and systemic evil, and a deepened expression of the gospel being more than just getting to heaven when you die. No doubt this expression is desperately needed in the Church today, but for some missional is becoming the new legalism.

Legalism is a way of viewing life and religion that insists on doing (and mostly not doing) any certain number of "things" (these "things" are any number of arbitrary rules that are legislated by a group or organization). Legalism is a checklist, a rulebook, a bullet point outline as to how one can live a God-pleasing (not to mention incredibly boring) life. Living this way is quite easy. It allows one to know where they are in their spiritual journey. It is this mindset that is subtly being thrown into the missional talk.

Several weeks ago I was with a pastor who was telling me about how his church is making a shift to be more missional. He had plans, classes, illustrations, and a clever series of sermons that were bound to get people out of the pew on Sunday and into their world. While this is good, it boiled down to telling people what they had to do. This conversation is like many that I have had with other pastors, and similar to scores of articles and books that I have read. Simply put, the message is: BE MORE MISSIONAL.

At first glance I would not argue with this. The problem lies with the culture that has largely existed in the American Evangelical Church over the last one hundred years. That being legalism. Many want their pastor to tell them what to do. Many want something to check off the list. All so that they can have safety and security in knowing they are doing the right thing. For an increasing number of people “being missional” is just one more thing on the list.

A friend of mine shared an article with me last week drafted by a group of national thought leaders, pastors, and theologians. The article had to do with the tenants of what it is to be missional. It was indeed a thorough explanation of God, who has a missional heart. They were clear and compelling on why we, the people of God, should also be missional. Even still, at the end of the article I was disappointed. It was a treatise on what we need to do.

All of this talk will only be more legalism as long as we ignore the central component in being truly missional – a transformed heart. Living in a missional way will forever be impotent as long as the Church is doing out of obligation. Being missional will always be empty if people are engaging because of a rousing sermon that has induced excitement for an event or guilt about not doing enough. Mission must happen out of a transformed life that enables us to exist as the transforming presence of Jesus in our world.

The real tragedy would be for many to be more missional and ignore their own heart. In the end missional will just be the new religion and, as one poet has said, religion is what happens when God has left the building. Mission must always happen out of a transformed heart, and as we will explore further, a transformed heart will happen out of mission. But if we only speak of “being missional” we will lose the transformation, and it will only be the new legalism.

Why I Try to Not Be Busy

2011-05-04T13:59:00.001-06:00

Several times every week people make the assumption that I am really busy. They ask me about meeting some time and quickly add, “I’m sure you’re busy.” I recently received an email that made the assumption of my busyness by saying, “You have to be one of the busiest people on the planet.”

While being ranked about anything, as number one on the planet is flattering, my reply to these comments is always the same, “Actually, I am not busy.” Few really believe this at first, but it’s true. More and more in my life I am rarely busy.

This is not to say that I do not work well, but there is a difference between work and busyness.

Good work is simply keeping focus during the time allotted for those things to be done. For me, this is typically daylight hours. Working well (for me) is not producing, but engaging in something that is fulfilling and life giving. When I work well there is a good kind of tiredness that sets in around 10 PM.

Busyness is more a restlessness that pays no attention to the time allotted for things to be done. Busyness does not allow for things to remain unfinished. To be busy is to be someone who does not have an off switch. Keeping busy sucks life out of me and blinds me to what’s really important. When I am busy I am constantly fatigued, and get sleepy around midnight.

I have begun to see what busyness produces in me – edginess, an inability to be present anywhere, stress, and a fast-paced daily rhythm.

Conversely working well produces in me – more patience, a greater ability to be present everywhere, wholeness, and an easy-going daily rhythm.

For me, it is that black and white.

This is good on the one hand, because when I am busy all the symptoms readily appear. Then I can sit and look at what is occupying me and holding my attention. On the other hand, it is bad for when I am too busy, well as you can see - I become an irritable mess.

With this in mind, over the last several months I have really begun to address work and business in my life. I have begun to ask what brings me to a place of wholeness, what brings me emotional, spiritual, and physical health? What is a good daily, weekly, monthly, and yearly rhythm?

In pursuing this way of living, I enlisted the help of my wife, accountability partner, some pastor friends, and our elder team. I reorganized my weekly schedule, adjusted my teaching calendar, lessened how often I check email, and made some commitments regarding what I won’t do before or after certain hours.

Honestly, I began to do less, and in doing so God has allowed me to be more. It’s not that I have more time, but that I have time that is better. I have fewer commitments, yet I am able to better serve because I am more alive.

Every day the temptation is still there for me to be busy. It really is addicting. Most days I admit this is a problem and know, that with divine intervention, I can overcome it for the one day. Some days I have to think about this every hour. Other days I fail miserably and I start running downhill, and we all know how that ends.

This morning I sat with a group of pastors, several of whom spoke of their busy and chaotic lives. I was one of them. The last few days have been too much for me. So once again, it is hitting the reset button and starting new and fresh with a new day.

In a few hours, I will go home. I will turn off my computer, shut down the cell phone, and coach my son’s soccer practice.

Tomorrow, when I wake up there will be an email waiting for me that will get answered, there will be an office that I will spend some time in, a phone call that I return, and several other things left undone from the day before that may get done. When I leave tomorrow to pick up my kids from school there will be more things to do that don’t get done, and they will spend the weekend unfinished.

There are days when things left undone drive me crazy. On better days I recognize that there are things that may never get done, but it will be okay – and more importantly, so will I.

Reflections on Justice and the Death of Osama Bin Laden

2011-05-01T23:30:00.005-06:00

I was sitting on the couch tonight eating a burrito and chatting with my wife about the weekend ahead when a friend texted me asking, “Are you watching the news?” Within moments we learned the news that had captured the world’s attention. Osama Bin Laden had been killed.

In the midst of this news Twitter and Facebook were abuzz with celebratory comments, some even making a claim that this was a victory for God himself. In all of this I began to wonder if God was as happy as those who were celebrating the death of Bin Laden.

In response to this, we immediately want to talk about what happened on 9/11 or point to the horrible atrocities this man masterminded as justification for his death. We claim that his death was warranted or “just” because of the blood that was on his hands. We believe that “justice” was served.

However, I wonder, is there another response that in no way lets Bin Laden off the hook while at the same time honors those who were victims of his evil crimes?

Marietta Jaeger-Lane is a woman who can give some tremendous insight into this. Her young daughter was kidnapped and brutally murdered during a family camping trip. Yet, she mustered the will and strength to ask the man who killed her daughter the first time she ever spoke to him how he was feeling. She told him that she was sure his actions had placed a heavy burden on his soul.

How does a mother of dead child ever come to the place where she shows mercy to her child’s murderer? For her, it came from her understanding of Jesus and a renewed sense of justice - not vengeance with justice slapped on it to make it work - justice that restores.

We often live with a mistaken notion of justice. When someone hits us, we believe that we have a right to hit that person back. The problem is that we rarely hit the person back with the same force - we hit them back harder. In the moment that we hit the person who has hit us we become like them, for in that moment we have both hit.

More than that, the person we hit back is bound to hit us back - harder. And when they do, we will want to hit them back – harder. On it goes, the never-ending, downward spiral of violence. It is a myth that violence can produce peace. As Dr. King said, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence.”

The good news is, there is another way. Jaeger-Lane, a woman who endured the pain and heartbreak of violence against her daughter, teaches us about this. She recognizes that “victim’s families have every right to the normal, valid, human response of rage.” She believes, however, that to let those emotions devolve into “blood-thirsty revenge” is disastrous for everyone.

She believes this, because, as she states, “We violate and demean our own honor and dignity by taking on the same mindset as the person who caused our grief.” Which makes me wonder. When we raise our hands in the air and cheer when a person has been killed, do we begin to resemble that person? Do we stoop down to their level and like them end up only desiring blood-shed and the loss of life?

Jaeger-Lane believes this is the case. In her understanding, justice for the life of victims does not and should not come by way of killing those who have killed.

She says, “Concerning the claim of ‘justice for the victims’ family’, there is no number of retaliatory deaths which will compensate to me the inestimable value of my daughter’s life … In truth, to claim that the execution of any offender will be ‘just retribution’ is to insult the immeasurable and irreplaceable worth of the victim.”

Lest one think that she has gone soft on perpetrators of violent crime she adds, “I am not advocating forgiveness for violent people and then release to the streets ... there are people who should be separated from the community in a humanely-secured manner for the protection of all.”

While her ideas may seem like nonsense to some; she is able to speak this way because of her understanding of justice. Justice is not about retribution but about restoration.

She says, “I believe that real justice is not punishment but restoration, not necessarily how things used to be but how they should be. In both the Hebrew and Christian Scriptures, from where my belief and values come, the God who rises up from them is a God of mercy and compassion. A God who seeks not to punish, destroy, or put us to death, but a God who works unceasingly to help and heal us, rehabilitate and reconcile us, restore us to the richness and fullness of life for which we have been created.”

It has now been a few hours since I finished that burrito and have learned of Bin Laden’s death. As I consider the events of today, and reflect on the words of Marietta Jaeger-Lane I wonder if we are celebrating restorative justice or if we are simply drunk on revenge.

I wonder if the killing of an evil man is in any way “just retribution” for the lives of fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, sons, and daughters that were slaughtered by him.

I wonder if in cheering at the news of his death we are in some way believing that his death will in some way compensate to us the immeasurable worth of lives lost.

Perhaps we ought not waste our energy celebrating the death of the one who ended their life. For we must always remember, no death of any human being should ever be cause for celebration. Maybe a proper response would be to honor the memory of those whose lives were ended because of this man, not by cheering his death, but by honoring their life.

The Other Half of the Psalms

2011-04-18T10:44:00.007-06:00

The Book of Psalms is the essential prayer book for those of Jewish faith, and mostly central for those of Christian faith too. I say “mostly” central because, in my experience, the other half of the Psalms have rarely been talked about. Those being the Psalms that are referred to as "laments."

During this Lenten Season at Denver Community Church we have been focusing our attention on the Psalms of Lament. We have focused our attention on the God who is intimate with grief and our denial of pain. We discussed the realities of anger, doubt, sorrow, and asked the question, “What do we do when God has left the building?”

These Psalms are filled with questions, doubts, anger, vengeful language, accusations, pain, sorrow, and grief. Is it any wonder we don’t spend much time talking about these? Talking about these psalms sound as depressing as listening to Depeche Mode. However, as we have learned over the last several weeks – we desperately need to study these Psalms.

A few Sundays ago we invited people to voice their doubts as we participated together in the Eucharist. The response was overwhelming.

“God I just don’t believe you love me because of my mistakes.”

“All of this prayer and he still decided to leave? Why?”

“His dad lived through cancer and you let my dad die.”

“Why did my baby have to die?”

And there were hundreds like this.

Pain, heartache, sorrow, and significant questions are lying in the hearts of those who gather together every Sunday in churches across the country.

This reality struck me in a deep way yesterday, the final Sunday of Lent, when Crossroads Bible Church (a church that I and many others planted together in 2004) gathered together. However, it was not their typical gathering. This is because on Thursday night their youth pastor, Derek Taatjes, and his infant son, Dylan, died in a house fire leaving behind a wife and two daughters. This awful, seemingly senseless tragedy has caused deep pain in the life of this local church.

If you knew Derek you knew that he had a heart the size of his head in his chest. To hear of his and Dylan’s death just does not make any sense. Why them? Why now? This raises all sorts of questions and difficult emotions.

I have spent a lot of time mourning with, reflecting on, and praying for the Taatjes family and the Crossroads family in these days. Much of my reflection has come out of the time we at Denver Community Church have spent in the psalms. In reading these Psalms I have begun to see that in moments like this, there is no right way to feel.

The emotions expressed in the Psalms are all over the map. One Psalm even concludes with the words, “… darkness is my closest friend.”

The questions asked of God in a posture of doubt and confusion sounds more like accusations than questions. The psalmist asks, “Why are you so far from my cries of anguish?” The question assumes that God is, in fact, far from his cries. The psalmist does not write, “It seems like you are far away …” He simply states it unapologetically, and in this accuses God.

We should not shy away from this kind of praying; rather we should embrace it. For in these prayers there is profound faith and deep intimacy. The psalmists know that the best place to go with the most difficult questions, the greatest wounds, the most violent anger, and with agonizing sorrow is to God. Why? Because they believe that God can handle it.

God can handle the questions, he can take the punches, and he can heal the pain. He can take all of this, because he has gone through it all himself. He is not detached from us, nor is he an unmoved mover somewhere out there.

He is the God who hung on the cross, and took the words of the Psalmist onto his lips, when he asked his dad, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

He is the God who took our pain and carried our suffering. He is the God who was beaten, bruised, pierced, and punished so that we can experience peace and healing.

God can take whatever we lay on him because he, like us, is a God who asked questions, received wounds, and went through agony too. He sits with us in this pain. He weeps alongside us.

Yesterday when Crossroads gathered together they opened up space to mourn, grieve, and weep. And what better place to do this than when you are with your brothers and sisters? They showed us what it means to gather together to weep with the God who weeps.

So, may you, the Taatjes family, and my brothers and sisters who are a part of the Crossroads community, lean into the God who is intimate with grief and pain knowing he weeps with you. And in your moments of doubt, may you reach out like Thomas and touch Jesus' wounds, knowing that by them you can be healed.

Death Is The Beginning

2011-04-10T16:58:00.002-06:00

The deafening sound of a single gunshot rang out in the Memphis sky forty-three years and six days ago. The bullet that was fired from the assassin’s gun struck Martin Luther King, Jr. who was standing on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel. The bullet was intended to silence King, and halt a movement. But what the assassin, and those who wanted King dead, didn’t know is that his death wouldn’t stop anything. More than a year earlier King had said in an interview, “I feel though, that my cause is so right, so moral, that if I should lose my life, in some way it would aid the cause.”

Because sometimes death brings life.

Several weeks ago my friend Nick who is a pastor in our church looked me in the eyes and said, “From dust you have come and to dust you will return.” He said this as he smeared ashes on my head in the shape of a cross. Nick reminded me on Ash Wednesday that I was broken, that I have darkness within me, and that I too will one day die and be buried. But the ashes and the words he spoke to me were liberating.

Because sometimes death brings life.

Last week my wife and I participated in Eucharist with our faith community. We broke bread reminding us of the body that was broken for the healing of the world. We drank wine reminding us of the blood that was poured out for the renewal of world. We did this to proclaim the death of Jesus. Yet in remembering his death there was tremendous hope.

Because sometimes death brings life.

Our normal way of thinking is to believe that death brings … well death. That’s it. Finished, done, over, gone. But to think of death and life this way is to ignore the execution of Jesus on a Roman instrument of torture that we call the cross. This action of Jesus was subversive. It fundamentally changed the pattern of living and dying.

Over the last several weeks here in Denver we have experienced more sun and more warmth than we had experienced in the previous months. There are buds on the trees, flowers are fighting their way out of the soil, and weeds are crawling through the cracks of driveways. Spring is springing. The beginning of life.

We experience this, knowing all the while, that all of the new life we see will die. In a few months, as the cold once again descends on us, the leaves will fall, weeds will wither, and flowers will be clipped. We begin with life and we end with death.

However, the cross tells a new story. Death no longer has the last word. In fact, death is the beginning, for death brings life. Death will “aid the cause” not end it.

Paul, in Romans 8 writes, “We are being put to death all day long for your sake. We are treated like sheep for slaughter,” (Romans 8.36, Common English Bible). Sounds like things are not going too well for Paul and his friends. Yet after speaking of death, he writes, “But in all these things we win a sweeping victory through the one who loved us,” (Romans 8.37, Common English Bible).

Being “put to death” wins a “sweeping victory?”

These words from Paul reflect his understanding of the new reality that was brought “through the one who loved us.” This is our reality, and it changes everything. Jesus, stared down the powers of sin and death and said, “Do your worst.” And they did, but he came out the other side alive. Death no longer had the final say, because death gave birth to life.

This mystery is throughout the scriptures; some have called it The Paschal Mystery. It is heard in the words of Jesus when he says, “unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it can only be a single seed. But if it dies, it bears much fruit,” (John 12, Common English Bible). Jesus says that death brings forth life.

Its’ this mystery, this upside-down story, that tells us that life, not death, has the last word. This is the real story that’s being told in history. As Martin Buber teaches us,

“The victories that we typically honor and celebrate are not the truest victories. The triumphs that capture our attention and that we herald so much are nothing more than stage-dressing for the larger story of human history. If we keep our eyes fixed on the foreground, the true victories, won in secret, sometimes look like defeats. True victories happen slowly and imperceptibly, but they have far reaching effects. In the limelight, our faith that God is the Lord of history may sometimes appear ludicrous; but there is something secret in history that confirms our faith.” (Taken from - If Not Now, When?)

Paul can say being put to death brings sweeping victory. Dr. King can say his death would aid the cause of liberation and equality. Ashes can teach us that we are free to die so that we can finally live. The Eucharist teaches us the same.

We proclaim this mystery every time we participate in the Eucharist, and we proclaim this every time we perform the Eucharist. In performing the Eucharist, we, as the people of God, are poured out, put to death, and led like lambs to the slaughter so that others can experience a sweeping victory. For it is these victories, those that look like defeats, which are the true victories.

It is then that we become a living Eucharist; a means of grace in which we proclaim, with Jesus, that death brings life, because, after all is said and done, it’s life that has the last word.

*If you would like to win a copy of the Common English Bible New Testament, please send me an email. A winner will be randomly chosen from the emails that are received.

Grief and Wrath

2011-03-23T11:24:00.004-06:00

Regardless of what caricature we wish to paint of God, any serious consideration must always include the reality of his wrath and judgment. This is the “dark side” of his mercy and compassion, and it is quite real.

Much has been made about God’s wrath throughout the history of the Church. Sometimes it is used as a spiritual (or literal) club for beating the wayward. Other times it is used as a looming threat for those who may reject Jesus.

Often there is a certain level of sadism in those who bear the message of God’s wrath. Which is perplexing for me, because God himself does not seem to take as much pleasure in wrath as many who claim his name do.

We defy Newton’s Law of Motion. Rather than every action having an equal an opposite reaction, we tend to live out the notion that every action has a greater and more punishing reaction. From the angry yelling and frantic gesturing that occurs when one driver negligently cuts off another; to the absolute and total destruction we collectively wish on those who do violence to us – we want wrath.

This desire, deep inside many of us, is rooted in how we are hardwired. Something inside us longs for things to be right. We have a desire to fix the thing that is broken. We have a desire to restore something that is missing.

The problem with this is that we see ourselves as faultless, and we see the other as faulty. With this belief in mind we believe that we are dispensers of justice, and have some innate authority to punish the wrongdoer. As we dispense our brand of justice we too often root it in vengeance, hatred, anger, and fear.

In the midst of this earthly reality, we interpret God’s wrath to be like our wrath. We assume that he operates in the same way we do. When he sees wrong, particularly wrong done against him, he violently lashes out and destroys. For years, many in the Church have defended, promoted, and claimed God’s wrath, seeing it as similar to the wrath that we perpetuate in our broken world.

The conflict is that the way wrath is often approached is in contrast to the heart of God.

Yes, the wrath of God is real, but it is never done out of spirit of anything other than love. This is why when wrath is dispensed there is a measure of grief in the heart of God. In Genesis 6, God sees how wicked humanity has become and that “every inclination of the thoughts of the human heart was only evil all the time.”

It is this that causes God to regret his decision to create humans. In this, God was not angry, mad, or ready to rumble. God was deeply troubled. The Hebrew, literally translated, says, “He grieved himself, in his heart.” God sees people who are wicked, and he grieves. It is out of his grief that he sends the floodwaters over the entire earth.

After the flood, Noah makes a sacrifice to God. God says, ““Never again will I curse the ground because of humans, even though every inclination of the human heart is evil from childhood. And never again will I destroy all living creatures, as I have done.” (Genesis 8.21) I find this interesting. Humans have not changed, but it seems that God makes a departure from the way he chooses to operate in the affairs of humankind.

Walter Brueggeman says in his book Praying the Psalms that what occurred “is a change wrought in the heart of God, who will no longer take vengeance. The move in God’s heart from Genesis 6.5-7 to 8.21 suggests that instead of humankind suffering, God takes the suffering as his own. God resolves to turn the grief in on himself rather than to rage against his creation.”

It is this reality that enables us then to leave wrath, vengeance, and reaction in the hands of God. Brueggeman goes on to reflect that the “possibility of a vengeance-free ethic is rooted in the staggering reality of God. And so we are driven to the crucifixion, in which God has decisively dealt with the reality of evil which must be judged.”

God’s wrath then, comes out of his grief, and ultimately it is turned upon himself as seen in Jesus hanging on a Roman instrument of torture. Which causes me to wonder about the way that we approach wrath, live out wrath, and preach about wrath.

If we, as the people of God, are to speak honestly of God’s wrath we need to hit the pause button and look first at ourselves. We must ask, “Are we grieved for the other?” More importantly we must ask, “Am I willing to take this wrath upon myself?”

It is this way of thinking that allows Paul to speak of blessing those who persecute you. It is this way of thinking that caused Peter to speak of repaying evil with blessing. This is unthinkable for many of us. Which is why we are reminded to not pursue vengeance or wrath on our own. God says, "It's my job to repay and dispense vengeance and wrath, not yours." (Deuteronomy 32.35, my paraphrase)

Perhaps when we speak of the wrath of God we should do so in imitation of God. Rather than speak of the reality of God’s wrath as something coming to the other, we should speak of the reality of wrath as something we are willing to take on ourselves for the liberation of the other.

Rather than speak of God’s wrath as a looming threat directed to _______________________ (put the group that you most despise in the blank) stemming out of his deep reserves of anger, we should speak of wrath as something that comes out of the grief stirred up within our hearts.

I wonder, how would this shape our conversations of God, judgment, wrath, and punishment?

Defending Whose Faith?

2011-03-17T10:47:00.001-06:00

We are a people who are constantly ready to fight, argue, and defend what we believe are our rights, beliefs, and liberties. Americans especially always seem on edge.

Think about it: When was the last time you were flipped off in traffic? When was the last time you watched two adults argue (red in the face) their viewpoint on a “news” show? When was the last time you had a polite conversation about politics where neither side was getting agitated (and I don’t mean faking like everything is okay)?

This kind of “readiness to fight” often takes center stage in the Church as well. We are told that we need to “defend the faith,” and this command is undertaken with vigor. Far too often it begins with name-calling and labeling. At this point the conversation cannot go forward with any honesty. Because once someone has been made anything less than an image-bearer of God the conversation gets lopsided.

Most times both sides stop listening. No one wants to be called a name, and those calling the names are not interested in hearing anything more from the person that is now something other than a person. In the minds of many, this is okay, because they are just “defending the faith.” Which at this point causes me to ask, “When did God (or the Bible) ever ask us to defend the faith?

In Genesis 1, the writer starts his narrative by saying, “In the beginning God …” In Hebrew, God is the second word of the Scripture. The Scriptural narrative does not take a long time to simply state the reality of God. This is in contrast to other ancient creation narratives, in which there was always a back-story to the gods. However, for the God of Israel, no explanation was needed. He was and is and will always be.

Not much defense there. Throughout the Scriptures God speaks unapologetically to humanity. And what about Jesus? He always sought to affirm what was true, even though it went against the popular religious and political systems of his day. He did this all without a defensive attitude. Even when he stood before those who wanted him dead he exhibited grace, love, forgiveness that has proven elusive to most people throughout history. He did not defend; he simply affirmed what was true.

It was those who believed they were the guardians of religion that wanted him dead. It was the religious elite who defended the faith. It was the religious who were angry at his assertions. It becomes apparent in the Gospels that the religious were not so much interested in defending the faith as they were in defending their faith.

Has anything changed today? Many religious leaders make bold claims about their inside track to the truth of the Scriptures. They go on attack, they label, they attempt to destroy reputations, and chalk it all up to “defending their faith.” Maybe it’s that they are defending their faith. Maybe this explains the anger, vitriol, and unnecessary jabs that are taken at those who think differently.

Many times those who are truly representing Jesus do so with much more love and humility than those who have influential platforms today. How many martyrs have died with words of love on their lips? How many have been imprisoned only to sing hymns? Yet today, men and women living free lives cloaked in privilege and wealth get angry when someone disagrees with their theology? A little odd isn’t it?

Many may want to quote Peter who says in 1 Peter 3:15, “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.” This has been the clarion call for defenders to step up and defend. But this is only the first part of the verse. The rest says, “… do this with gentleness and respect.”

In the verses preceding this, Peter instructs his recipients to do good in the face of evil. He tells them to “repay evil with blessing.” He tells them to be compassionate and tells them to “love one another.” The assumption is that if we, as the people of God, do these things that people may want to know what makes us tick. Then, when they ask, tell them why you have hope.

Is it possible that when those who are not a part of the church see God’s people yelling names at each other, shouting accusations, and sounding more like political adversaries than brothers and sisters that they have no desire to ask us anything, much less about the hope we have?

In his letter to Timothy, Paul gives him firm instructions. He tells him to command others to stop teaching false doctrines. Once again the defenders mount up and are ready to ride. Remember, Paul is giving instructions to a young pastor who is leading a young, fragile community who has been inundated with teaching from Gnostics and Pagans. There were all sorts of teaching that were not consistent with Jesus. They needed more instruction.

Paul does not tell Timothy to “defend the faith.” No he tells him how to handle his leadership of those in his care. Paul then tells Timothy that “The goal of this command is love …” (1 Timothy 1:3-7). Even in explaining what we believe then, it is not to be done in a posture of defensiveness, which is the norm today, but with gentleness, respect, and the goal should be love.

Perhaps our defensive attitude comes from the American culture which we are all much too steeped in. The attitude of America going back to the Rebellion (that was for my British friends) has been one of defensiveness. This is one of the legacies that has been given to us – the legacy of fighting and violence. There are even those who identify themselves as Christians who carry a flag around that says, “Don’t tread on me!” We carry on this cultural legacy quite well.

We so often carry our American culture and our religion closer to our heart than the loving, liberating, freeing good news of Jesus. Maybe this is why we are so defensive, because we have been influenced more by a nation and religion than by a loving God. Maybe we are not defending God, the Bible, or even the Gospel at all. Perhaps we are more on the offensive than defense because we are interested in building our kingdoms. Few things are more powerful than ego, and few things are more defended than our false self.

Whenever people become angry enough to start calling names, labeling others, and making bold accusations I always wonder, “What are they hiding? What are they scared of?” After all, if it’s true it will be what lasts. If those who are defensive are right, then why get so defensive? If you must respond, do it well. If you are asked why you have hope, give and answer, but always with gentleness and respect, and may our goal always and forever be love.

Winners Without Losers

2011-03-14T23:10:00.004-06:00

Tonight is the eve of the release of the new book Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived by Rob Bell. Many have already taken their places in the debate. The battle lines have been drawn and shots have already been fired from both sides.

However, both sides have already lost. This is because they are taking one side or the other. It is so engrained in us to be “either/or” thinkers. We automatically think in terms of “win/lose” or “right/wrong.” Is it possible that there is another way? I struggled, and still struggle, with this question. Perhaps it’s my pedigree.

I was recently asked if I was “competitive.” I chuckled. This person obviously does not know me well. I’m half Cuban and half-Irish – some cocktails should never be mixed. I like to fight and I like to tell tall tales. Asking me if I am competitive is like asking the Pope if he is Catholic.

Over the years I have grown to be okay with admitting it and living with it. Thankfully it is less defining of who I am, but make no mistake, I am competitive. I write this knowing that many of you who read this will know where I am coming from, for you too are competitive. We just can’t seem to help it.

And it’s not just winning is it? It’s also wanting the other team, the other side, or the other person to lose. We want to reign victorious and want our opponent suffer humiliating defeat. While this is overstated (only slightly for some), this mentality is nearly everywhere today. We live in a very divided, binary, and defended way toward most everyone and everything. In our minds we cannot have a winner without a loser.

It is high time for us to step back, pause, and consider together if there is another way. Can we move beyond “either/or” and learn how to embrace “both/and” thinking? Is there a third way?

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. understood the third way. In a 1967 sermon, he spoke of loving those who perpetrated violence against African Americans. He concluded by saying, “… one day we will win our freedom. We will not only win freedom for ourselves; we will so appeal to your heart and conscience that we will win you in the process, and our victory will be a double victory.”

King knew something that still very few have learned. There does not always have to be a loser for their to be winner. This way of thinking goes to who God is.

In Exodus 3, Moses asked about God’s name. God replied, “I am.” In saying this God was communicating, “I don’t need to be compared or defined by or against anything to be who I am. I simply am who I am.”

Notice he did not say, “I am not like that god of that god …” Nor did he say, “I am because there was this one time when …” He is God. One God. Undivided. He is not a God who lives in an “either/or” kind of way. He does not need anything to be what he is.

Which makes me wonder about how we think and love. We tend to define things by their opposites. We understand light in terms of darkness, and darkness in terms of light. But God does not need dark to be light. He just is light, without need to compare it to anything. God is love. He does not need hate, indifference, or prejudice to contrast his love. He just is love. God does not need the opposite to exist for him to be what he is. God does not need the other so we can better understand him. God does not need there to be a loser if he is the winner.

This reality is quite freeing. If this is true, and I believe it is, we can let go of fear, competition and the incessant need to be right. Instead of building arguments and crafting counterpoints, we can give our mind and hearts over toward knowing God intimately. Instead of preparing fine tuned point-by-point categorical responses to things with which we disagree, we can dedicate ourselves to be being faithful. And shouldn’t intimacy and faithfulness be our truest desire? After all we are talking about our relationship with God.

When it comes to my closest human relationships, I do not sit around trying be the one who is the most right. I am not interested in being the winner, or the one who wins all the arguments. My truest desire is to know those I love, and to be known by them. My deepest longing is to have faithful friends and to be a faithful friend in response.

It is this kind of living that is praised in Hebrews 11. Those who are on the list of “faith heroes” are not praised because they were right. They are not better than those who were wrong. No, they were considered righteous because they were faithful.

Because in the end it’s faithfulness that will lead us to what is right. In the end, it is deep intimacy with God that will lead us to what is true. In the end, we will be caught up into the love of God. Which is good news, for this God, the God who is love, will win.

What the Hell? Part 6

2011-03-14T22:34:00.002-06:00

Tomorrow marks the release of the book Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived by Rob Bell Rob Bell. Few books of this kind have ever received so much attention before they have been released. However, given the subject matter many have passionately weighed in on the subject.

In the process, many have spoken of the need for hell in Christian theology. This is especially true, some claim, with regard to evangelism. According to their way of thinking hell is good motivation when it comes to dealing today with our future destiny.

For Christians, the thinking goes, the idea of people dying and going to hell should be a key motivator for us to spread the gospel. For those who are not Christians, the reality of going to hell if they do not follow Jesus is also a good motivator.

The decision to act with regard to eternal destiny then, for both the Christian and non-Christian, is propelled by the looming threat of eternal suffering. Perhaps we should take a step back and ask ourselves about this being a central basis for motivation.

For decades, Christians have preached, with fervency and passion, a message geared toward the future. While this preaching has been done with good motives, the constant focus on hell as a future place of torment has, in part, caused Christians far and wide to miss the hell that billions are in today here on this earth.

We have largely missed those on the margins, those who are sick, and have overlooked those relegated to stupid poverty. Hell, we tend to think, is someday. Because of this, those in hell now have suffered for what seems to them, an eternity. The irony in this, is that Jesus pointed out in Matthew 25 that those who do not tend to the needs of the most vulnerable are the ones who end up in hell.

Beyond this, should the threat of hell have to be the thing that motivates us? What about being a group of people who are so moved by the love of God that we can’t help but preach it everywhere we go (and of course, as it’s necessary, use words)? Do we need to resort to veiled threats if indeed the love of God is supreme? Is it possible that many Christians just don’t know the depths of God’s love? Is it possible that many Christians do not understand that the love of God is so much more than just getting us out of hell, so we are left to bring fear into the equation?

What about those who are not Christians? Consider what the popular Christian message has sounded like for countless people. For those who are not Christians they are told they have an opportunity to choose the God who is love. This God, they are told, loves them so much he died for them and forgives them. However, if they do not choose this God he will send them to everlasting torment with the devil and all his angels. Sounds inviting doesn’t it?

I grew up hearing this message all the time. Some of the preachers were so good in speaking about hell that in fright I again “believed and received.” I could never be too certain about my future, and besides, who wants to risk hell? I know that I am not the only one to think this way. Thousands of people have decided to follow Jesus because of the alternative. Within this, however, there is a problem: it’s not working.

Sure there are stories of those who have been scared into salvation and have grown in their faith. In my experience, however, what was far more common was the story of one who would “accept Jesus” to insure their place in heaven only to fall away sometime down the road because the fear diminished. Which only serves to remind us, fear doesn’t transform people.

To be honest, I’m not sure we need hell anywhere near as much as we need a deeper and truer understanding of God’s love. We need this because it is love that transforms us from the inside We need to know love intimately for it is a far better and lasting motivation than fear could ever dream of being. We need love because it is far more inviting.

For wherever the love of God is accepted, hell cannot be present. It is not fear that gets some people out of hell. Rather, it is love that drives hell out of people and from the face of this earth. This not to say that hell is not real. The problem is that hell is far too real. This is not because of the lack of motivation on the part of anyone. This reality exists because there is a deficit in the embrace, acceptance, wonder, and celebration of God’s love.

Gravity Always Wins

2011-03-13T13:53:00.002-06:00

If there is one thing nature has taught us it is this: things change. Change is an inevitable part of life. However, we try to fool ourselves into thinking this is not true. Don’t believe me? Take a look at the sharp increase in cosmetic surgery in the last twenty years. Try as people may to outwit the changes that come with age, Radiohead reminds us, “… gravity always wins.”

You just can’t escape change. It’s natural and it’s part of life. When we get right down to it, most everyone would agree with this reality with one glaring exception, their theology. Most do not want to think about theology changing ever. To even think about it generates fear, and fear generates anger, and anger gets expressed against anyone suggesting a new way of thinking or asking questions about why we have always thought this way.

This attitude toward theology comes about because even though we change, the world changes, and culture changes the Bible tells us that God doesn’t. He is the same yesterday, today and tomorrow. When someone then suggests a new understanding, or even asks a theologically provocative question it sends ripples of fear through people.

Perhaps this is because we are trained throughout our whole life to adhere to the status quo. We are taught about “the way things are.” We are told “we have always done it this way.” We are told “I thought the same thing at your age.” All of these common comments are telling us to get in line and blend in. This is true in life and in theology.

In my experience the Evangelical Church has spent much of its time telling people why what they believe is true. This is then followed with telling others why they should believe it too. And this is no passive endeavor. This kind of talk is done with militant language. We are to be warriors for Christ. We are to defend the faith.

“Onward Christian Soldiers” notwithstanding, many today are “marching out to a war” that is just being fought anymore. This is because humans continue to do what humans have always done; we change. When we change, so does our theology.

We must remember that theology itself is a creation of human beings. Many want to say that their theology is based off the Bible, and is therefore not a human endeavor, but “biblical.” This attitude grows out of a belief that they are right when it comes to theology. Because they are right, and God does not change, then neither should their theology.

Yes, there are things about which the Bible is rather clear. More surprising, however, is how little the Bible is abundantly clear about. There are many aspects of theology that are left to us to discuss and contemplate. And over the years many of those aspects have changed and morphed. This does not mean God changes, but the way we as people relate to him and speak to him will change and does change. But this should not frighten us.

It does not mean we must forsake all former theology. Rather it is renovating and building on what has come before us. Some things will be replaced and some things will be new, but the shape will be the same.

None of this is because God has changed, but because our world, our culture, and we have changed. And when we change, the way we speak of God, and understand God changes too. We resist this with every fiber of our being, because in many ways we are more dedicated to our theology than we are to God himself.

Try as we might to fight this, it is pointless. Instead maybe we should join the conversation in an effort to help color, shape, and design a deeper understanding of God. To join in this conversation is to be faithful to who we are. We can do this with confidence because our greater faith is in God, the unchanging one. Either way, we must make a choice, because no matter how hard we fight against it, gravity always wins.

What the Hell? Part 5

2011-03-10T18:29:00.003-07:00

To speak of hell and heaven is often to speak of an issue that lies at the center of one’s faith. This is because much of Christianity has taught it that way. Many believe that the center of the Christian hinges on your eternal destiny. Therefore, we spend a lot of time in discussion around the question, “Who gets in?” But maybe this is not such an important question (of course I say this only after I have given considerable attention to it over the last few blogs).

Let me clarify, it is not that this is not an important question, but it may not be nearly as central as many have grown up believing. To make this question of central importance makes the gospel primarily about you or me or the woman sitting next to me on the plane (where is where I am as I write this) who is holding her dog that “gets frightened when he flies.”

But we as individuals are a thread in the larger fabric of the gospel story. The Bible speaks clearly about the good news being about restoration, renewal, and redemption of the entire universe. At the center of this good news is a crucified and risen Jesus. It is the power of his resurrection that changes the game for us.

It is his resurrection that fundamentally changes the direction of cosmic history. When we casually observe our world we see things getting old, wearing out, and dying. While something starts out new it just gets old. When a plant sprouts, life is born only to one day die and return to the earth. But the resurrection changes this paradigm.

In the death and resurrection of Jesus there is a new direction, a new trajectory. One that says, “Die to live.” One that says, “Behold I make all things new.” One that shouts from the hilltops, “The old has gone and the new has come.” No longer is the story about new getting old and life passing away. It’s about renewal, new creation, and life bursting forth.

This is the hope of the gospel. The good news that Jesus was anointed to preach to the poor. This is the gospel that binds up the brokenhearted, that proclaims freedom for the captives, and proclaims the year of the Lord’s favor.

This is the kind of news that one day will cause nations to stop training for war, and lead them to beat their weapons into farm tools. This is the kind of news that will enable all men and women to sit under his or her own fruit tree so everyone can have as much as they need. It is no wonder that when God comes to live with us there will be no more death, mourning, or crying – and for the tears that are hanging on, our loving God will wipe those away too.

We begin to see that making life and death hinge on “who gets in” and “who doesn’t” is aiming at some place other than the center of the target. As we discuss eternal life, wrath, heaven and hell, we must always do so in context of the larger narrative. We must always remember that God is in the process of redeeming all things – in heaven and on earth.

It is this gospel that beckons us to join in the shaping and telling of God’s story, and it beckons to us now. The question “Who gets in?” is a question about heaven; the place where God’s rule, love, and grace are present and accepted. This question is often asked with regard to the future. But what about today?

Who is experiencing God’s love and grace today? Where are the places where God’s rule and reign are accepted? These people and these places are living in the place where God’s rule, love, and grace are present and accepted. In other words it seems they are “in.”

For us then, as we consider heaven and hell, perhaps our attention should be rooted in today. Perhaps our hearts and egos should not be overcome by a conversation about one’s eternal destiny that is someday in the future. Maybe, we should give our energy to the eternal life that Jesus can, will, and does give now; praying with Jesus, “Your kingdom come, your will be done one earth as it is in heaven …”

Our lives and our stories are bound to the gospel of Jesus the Christ who triumphed over sin and death. When we see this, the larger story, we begin to see how small we have made the cosmic scope of the gospel when we speak in terms of “in” or “out.”

The truth is, there is good news, and it continues to move forward – slowly and imperceptibly – bringing heaven to earth. It’s here and available now. Which reframes the question, “Who gets in?” Doesn’t it?

What the Hell? Part 4

2011-03-03T10:44:00.003-07:00

Jesus once told a story that had one of those endings that makes you wonder, “Is it really over?” The story is widely known as the “Prodigal Son Parable” (read the story here). However, there are two sons and a father. All three of these characters play an important role in the story. What captivates me in this story is the father’s love.

Every time I read this story I weep at the picture of this dad running across his acreage, scooping his rebellious, pig-shit-smelling son off the ground as he hugs and kisses him. Tears welling up in the father’s eyes as cries, gasps, laughs and yells to the servants, “My son is back! My son is back! He’s alive! Let’s party!” I am moved at the picture of a father who kisses his son and whispers as he hugs him tight, “I am so glad you are home.”

Let’s not forget this display of love is poured out on the younger son after he has taken his father’s wealth, moved away, spent it all, and worked with pigs before limping back home. The actions told by Jesus of this dad are amazing and awe inspiring. But this generous love was not reserved only for the younger son. The same love was there for the older son too.

The story concludes with the older son, not the prodigal, standing outside the party. He is upset with his father for throwing a party for the younger son. He almost seems to reprimand his father and claims that he never had a party, not even a nice dinner with friends. In the way Jesus tells the story you can almost see the older son’s sneering countenance and his seething disposition.

At first glance it seems that the older brother hates his younger brother. In speaking to his father, he even refers to his younger brother as “… this son of yours,” refusing any direct relationship. But what he is ultimately the angriest about is the love of the father. The older son just could not accept the father’s loving forgiveness of the younger son.

Because of this he refused to go into the party. And where is the dad? Outside with his son, pleading with him to join the party. As angry and hostile as the son is, the father does not belittle him, condemn him, tell him to shut-up, or inform him that he is grounded. Rather, the father, once again, puts his love on display for the older brother.

He says, “My son.” This is a powerful and affectionate thing to say at a time like this. He continues, “you are always with me, and everything I have is yours.” How loving is this? The father points out to the son that he too is deeply loved. He has been given a place to share everything with the father. The story ends with the father lovingly asking his son to come inside to the party. We are left to wonder if he ever went in.

When I read these words, I picture two people standing on a driveway lined with the cars of the partygoers. From the house we see the windows that cast a soft, yellow glow of light. The light is mixed with the muted sounds of conversation, laughter, and music. The father makes his plea to the older son, and then there is a span of silence.

The two pause and look toward the house. It is getting dark, the sky has turned a shade of navy blue, and their breath is just now becoming visible in the chilly evening air. We are left to wonder, "What will the older son do?"

Everything about the party says, “Come in!” But the older son stands in the darkness. He is so angry, filled with resentment, and racked with bitterness that he won’t go in. He is so mad that he can look at his loving father and say, “I don’t want that,” and within his tangled soul, he means it.

As different as it may appear to be inside the house, and outside on that driveway, there is one thing that exists in both places. The unrestrained, lavish love of a dad toward his kids. One accepted the love and celebrated a new life. The other rejected the love and wrapped himself in bitterness. It is this kind of love that makes the light seem brighter inside the party and makes the darkness seem darker outside the house. This picture also raises some questions.

Watching the love of the father on display at a party for a wayward son who sought and found forgiveness, I wonder, “Is this a picture of heaven?” A place where there is joy, bliss, laughter, and open acceptance of God’s loving forgiveness, even for prodigals.

In a similar way, watching the love of the father being poured out on that driveway, and seeing the rejection of that love by the older son, I wonder, “Is this a picture of hell?” A place where there is resentment and animosity toward, not only the loving forgiveness of God, but also toward those who have received it.

Is hell a place where though one can hear the partygoers, the music, and see the light through the windows they would rather be outside on the driveway in the dark? Is hell a place where you can look into the face of your loving father begging you to come in and all you can do is respond by telling him why his love is unfair? Perhaps for some the lavish grace, love and forgiveness of God is hell. For those who have clothed themselves with resentment, when they see how God loves the unlovely and the rebellious they will just not be able to accept it. Instead, they will stand outside the party and angrily say, “I will not go in there.”

But I wonder, while it appears to be different in these two places, will the love, grace, and forgiveness of the father exist in both? Will those at the party forever celebrate the love of God? Will those who are outside the party hear the father begging and pleading with them to come in? After all, those outside the party are his kids too. If he is out there, it could be hell for many.

What the Hell? Part 3

2011-03-02T12:30:00.003-07:00

Some believe that we need hell and God’s wrath to keep us honest about who we are and our place in this world. God’s wrath, they contend, is essential if we are to live godly lives and if we are to convince others to do the same. The reality of hell, they teach, is a must if we are to fully grasp the magnitude God’s mercy and forgiveness. They hold that the truth of eternal damnation is paramount if we are to forgive others, or if we are ever to understand how great heaven will one day be. This viewpoint suggests that wrath, hellfire, damnation, and hell itself are essential because they are a baseline motivator for us to live good Christian lives.

The problem with this, is that it often takes a dark turn into “fear-as-persuasion” tactics that have so often been used from the pulpits and pens of preachers for ages. Growing up in and around Christian circles I saw this all the time. If we can hold the threat of hell close enough for others to feel the heat and hear muffled screams of those suffering – they will live right. Maybe this is where the term “scared straight” comes from.

But do we need to know of the threat of God’s wrath and agony of hell to appreciate heaven and the depths of God’s mercy? This kind of logic is akin to suggesting that my children need to be aware of a drunken, philandering, abusive father to truly appreciate my love for them. This is not true any more than saying we need the reality of God’s wrath to understand what mercy means.

It is interesting to note that when Jesus spoke of hell, he leveled his threat to the religious elite who had tremendous privilege, power, and influence. By contrast, his message to those who were on the margins and those beyond the pale was one of love, embrace, and inclusion. His message was that the Kingdom of Heaven had more than enough room for them and all their friends.

You see, Jesus did not have to speak about hell, wrath, and judgment because the world that these people were living in was bad enough already. They were oppressed, forgotten, and excluded by those in places of power. To speak to them about the threat of hell was pointless, because for some, hell may have been an improvement.

Is it really any different today?

In the last month I have spent time with people who have been fighting chemical addictions, been sexually abused, experienced marital break-up, been diagnosed with a terminal illness, and been excommunicated by their family.

Do they really need a clear picture of hell? Do they need to hear about the coming wrath of God if they don’t stop using? Should they be told what happens to the sexually immoral if they don’t stop abusing their body that was sexually abused when they were a kid? Haven’t they already experienced enough hell? Aren’t they still experiencing it right now? For them hell is not a potential judgment that may happen someday; hell is now.

None of them need to know about more about hell to live a good Christian life. What they need, what I need, and what you need, is to know about God’s liberating grace, mercy, love, compassion, and hope for all people because we already know what hell is like.

We need to understand the God of love who was executed but resurrected defeating the powers of sin and death. Everyday we should be reminded that we have been freed to live as beloved sons and daughters. We need to be told and retold that we have been healed from our brokenness, delivered from our sinful tendency to look for love outside of God, and rescued from the death we seem so bent on living beneath.

In this world that is so filled with hate, bigotry and enmity we need a message of peace and love. In our cynical, sarcastic and divided culture we need a message of hope and unity. In our lives that are so dominated by systems of greed, power, and materialism we need a message of mercy, justice, and humility.

We already know what hell is – most people in our world live in it. What we need is to speak more about love, mercy, and grace, which for many are unknown.

It is true that many know of God’s love in deeper ways because of their knowledge of hell, but not because they have been threatened by God’s coming judgment. They know more of God’s mercy, but not because they have been warned of certain eternal, conscious torment.

No, they understand God’s love because they have already been to hell, and now they know God’s love. They understand God’s mercy, because they were already tormented and now live in their right mind.

And those who know God’s love have found a free and true way of living. A way of living that is devoid of the fear that so many attempt to induce when speaking about hellfire and damnation. Because the love of God that found them drives out fear.

What the Hell? Part 2

2011-03-01T14:49:00.001-07:00

I have often said that one day the thing we will overhear most in heaven is the question, “Where is so-and-so?” If this is not true, it may be only because there is another question being asked more often. That question being, “How did they get in here?”

For the most part the Evangelical community feels comfortable raising discussion around the first question, “Where is so-and-so?” Many turn immediately to Matthew 7 when Jesus says that he will say to some who think they knew him, “I never knew you. Away from me!” Many reflect on verses like this and see it as a warning. Many pastors exhort their congregations to consider the implications seriously, lest their face end up on a milk carton in heaven.

It’s the second question that gets a little harder to deal with. Most who believe they will end up in heaven do not like to consider who else may possibly be there someday. By contrast they seem comfortable making absolutist statements about who will most certainly be consigned to hell. But we need to interact with this second question.

Core to Christianity is the person of Jesus. It is widely taught and accepted that belief in him for salvation is necessary. But there always seems to be host of other things that become issues linked to salvation. These issues are then linked to the narrow road that leads to salvation and the narrow gate late leads to eternal life.

Today, many are under the impression that they have happened upon thee narrow road and entered thee narrow gate. However, there are many different groups, within Christendom, saying they have thee right narrow road and gate. The problem is the roads and gates look different. So who is right?

Some speak confidently about the narrow road and believe their way is true. Others, while describing a similar road, are insistent on certain core essentials that make their road more right (or more narrow). Still others who have a road and gate that is perhaps a bit wider are considered by some to be too generous. So which road does one need to be on and which gate should we enter through?

Are there certain things that we absolutely have to be right about in order to get in? Is there only one thing? Are there other things you can be wrong about and still get in? If so, what are the right things to be wrong about?

This can all get confusing quite quickly, and while this might seem like mental gymnastics this is the way many think. This approach of believing the right things is the approach that many take when determining one’s entrance into heaven or descent into hell.

Perhaps all of this is shortsighted. God is not going to ask all humans who have ever lived for an eight, ten, or even fifteen point doctrinal statement when we stand before him someday. We have to recognize that all of us, even the most brilliant scholars, theologians, and philosophers are wrong about a lot. In light of the universe we inhabit we struggle to see beyond our own egos, much less the tips of our noses.

A good starting point for all of us is to be honest about how little we know. To make heaven and hell about a prayer that someone prayed, what one knows, should know or can know, a doctrine one believes, actions one does, or the ways in which one thinks is to ever so slightly move the conversation away from the real miracle – that God came to any of us in the first place.

The only reason any of us are able to have this conversation, write books about this subject, or write blogs in reflection is because of the goodness, faithfulness, mercy, grace, and love of God. He is the reason anyone will dwell with him in the life to come. And who are we to make the road narrower? Who are we to guard the gate to eternal life?

Often we live making judgments far too quickly, and pretend at times that we speak for the mind and heart of God. This attitude of exclusivity was something that Jesus spoke to with less than gentle words. In Matthew 23, He directed his harshest comments to the religious elite of his day saying, “Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You shut the door of the kingdom of heaven in people’s faces.” He concludes his words to them by asking them how they will “escape being condemned to hell.”

Many seem very comfortable drawing clear boundaries around who is “in” and who is not. What’s interesting is every religious person draws them based on the presupposition that they are in. Maybe this should tell us something about the way we view ourselves, those who are not like us, the world, and eternity. Jesus pointed out clearly that some who think they have their ticket punched might be mistaken.

In approaching conversations of heaven and hell we must always remember how far God has gone to reach out to humanity. Who’s to draw boundaries for how far he continues to go in our world today? Who knows, maybe the thing we will hear the most in heaven is, “Wow, there are a lot more people than I ever imagined.”

What the Hell? Part 1

2011-02-28T12:45:00.006-07:00

For a long time one of the great fears spoken of in mainstream Evangelical Christianity has been hell. Hot, dark, torturous, and eternal. More recently however, it seems that a greater fear has arisen, that being the theory that there is no hell at all.

Over the last few days there has been a lot of scuttlebutt about a new book written by Rob Bell titled Love Wins: A Book About Heaven, Hell, and the Fate of Every Person Who Ever Lived. Why all the static? Some believe that the new book falls on the side of Universalism, the belief that everyone – no matter what – gets into heaven.

There are thousands of comments on Facebook crying, “Heresy!” Nationally known pastors are shamelessly making glib remarks about Rob himself. Several high-profile blogs are asking people to pray for Rob in the most condescending of tones.

The interesting thing is this: The book has not been released.

One blogger of some note ripped the book (and Rob) to shreds and then added, “I haven’t read the whole book yet and was hesitant to say something based on the publisher’s description …” Perhaps this writer has never heard the oft quoted maxim, “Do not judge a book by its cover.”

While some would claim that the attitudes and reactions are merely committed, biblical Christians defending the great orthodox faith against false teachers let’s remember this:

The reaction is to what many believe the book might be about. The reaction ignores the praise it has received from respected evangelical scholars who have read the book. The reaction, ultimately, is against even a hint-of-a-suggestion that there might not really actually be a literal hell.

All of this makes me wonder why we are so hung up on hell? Why do we want it to be real so badly? Why do we get angry when someone says that it may not be real? Is it possible that we are scared that there is no hell? I ask this last question because while many want to play to the “righteous anger” card, in my experience I rarely see this to be true. Most of us get righteously pissed but I know very few who get pissed righteously.

Most anger that I have seen is rooted in fear. We sense a threat, we become fearful, and we act on that aggressively. Then, in order to appear better, we slap the label “righteous” on it and call it good. But it’s not good; it’s fear. And what are we afraid of, the idea that hell may not be real?

Among Evangelicals we seem to like the idea of hell. I know very few that speak of people going to hell with mirth – at least outwardly – but we do like the idea of it. Consider this excerpt from a major evangelical association’s statement of faith: “We believe that God will raise the dead bodily and judge the world, assigning the unbeliever to condemnation and eternal conscious punishment …”

Another large church in the Midwest writes: “The souls of unbelievers remain after death in conscious misery until the final judgment … when soul and body reunited will be cast into the lake of fire, not to be annihilated, but to be punished with everlasting destruction …”

They sure are specific aren’t they? Fire, destruction, misery and all of this is conscious. In both of these examples (and there are hundreds like this) there is a tremendous specificity regarding hell. Yet, by contrast there is much less comment on heaven.

We seem to be okay with “streets of gold” and “pearly gates” being literal or not-so-literal, but there is no way that fire, darkness, and the sulfur smelling abyss is not-so-literal. Why are we so bent on saying “eternal conscious torment” (add in echo for scary effect here) but more okay in speaking about heaven in, at times, bland, less than literal, terms?

The way we answer this question is important, and in fact, can tell us a lot about, not what we say we believe, but about what we really believe to be true about God, the gospel, humanity, earth, evil, forgiveness, justice, life, death, and eternity (just to name a few). The reality is that one-day in the life to come, we may just be surprised by a lot of things.

The next few blogs will explore several questions around the concept of heaven, hell, and the space between. Why do we want hell? Why does hell need to be true? Who gets in and when is it too late? Just to name a few.

In the meantime, until the book is released (or until you have had the chance to read it) let’s use common sense and refrain from making comments about what its contents might be or what we think of the author. We can discuss hell all we want, but let’s not do so with a spirit of fear or anger. Let’s engage this conversation with humility, grace, wisdom, and of course love.

Because one thing that we can judge from the book is its cover, which reminds us – "Love Wins."

Medicine, Death, and Research

2011-01-27T16:54:00.002-07:00

A friend of mine, who is a physician, sent me this email. I found it fascinating, and thought I would post it.

Hi Michael,

I went to a lecture on third world medical care this week by a doctor from GW University. He gave the 5 leading causes of death in the world today:

1. Diarrhea

2. Acute Respiratory Diseases

3. Malnutriton

4. Malaria

5. Measles

I was surprised that malaria is number 4. All 5 are directly related to poverty. What we think of as the main causes of mortality, heart disease, stroke and cancer are further down. 90% of medical research is directed to 10% of all disease.

Working to Receive

2011-01-03T14:26:00.002-07:00

Last week my family and I had the chance to go to a Denver Broncos game. They have had the worst record in years, and a somewhat tumultuous season. With each botched play, incomplete pass, and missed tackle the vocalized disgruntlement with the team grew. My wife and I were putting “earmuffs” on our kids as fans expressed their outrage. It seemed as though they believed that Champ Bailey actually missed a tackle only to upset them.

Should I even begin to talk about the frustrated status updates on Facebook each time there is a tweak to the site? What about the perplexed look people get at a coffee house when the internet goes down? Last month I was on a flight when someone threw their hands up in the air and shook their head in bewilderment when the DirectTV feed went out ... on an airplane.

All of these things I believe point to what has become a common and destructive part of the American life. Entitlement.

We are a narcissistic lot. Somehow getting to the place where we believe that the world owes us something. This attitude is the result of the notion that we do not owe anyone anything, because whatever we have accomplished has come through our own hard work. And it is because of our hard work that we feel as though we deserve something.

We act as though all that we have has been earned by the sweat of our brow. Because of this, we demean any hint of a handout. We degrade anyone who speaks about those who have not worked hard getting what we have. Our culture is a worthiness contest.

Someone recently said to me rather passionately, “How can anyone expect to get for free what I have worked so hard for?!” This attitude is nothing new. In fact it is something that God spoke about in anticipation of his people, Israel, going into the promise land.

The Land of Promise was a rich and fertile place. It was flowing with milk and honey. It produced ginormous crops and yielded abundant fruit. With a little hard work it was expected that you would get wealthy. With a little blood, sweat, and tears you would have more than you knew what to do with. God wanted to remind his people never to become too conceited or entitled. So he said this to them:

When you have eaten and are satisfied, praise the LORD your God for the good land he has given you. Be careful that you do not forget the LORD your God … Otherwise, when you eat and are satisfied, when you build fine houses and settle down, and when your herds and flocks grow large and your silver and gold increase and all you have is multiplied, then your heart will become proud ... You may say to yourself, “My power and the strength of my hands have produced this wealth for me.” But remember the LORD your God, for it is he who gives you the ability to produce wealth … If you ever forget the LORD your God and follow other gods and worship and bow down to them, I testify against you today that you will surely be destroyed. (Taken from Deuteronomy 8.10-20, NIV, italics added for emphasis)

God is warning the people of Israel to be careful lest they think they have earned all of their wealth. The reality is they did not earn anything - it was a gift. It’s the same today none of us earn anything – we are given good gifts from above from our Father in heaven.

All of these thoughts were floating around in my head yesterday, when I received a confrontational (but anonymous) email that said, “I believe that our wealth was from hard work, honesty, ingenuity, personal responsibility, and the ability to dream due the unique level of freedom only this country once protected.” This comment seems to ring of Deuteronomy 8, and sounds much like what God warned his people of.

When we say these things and believe that we have earned the right to have Direct TV on an airplane or a flawless wireless connection at a coffee shop we are not only showing signs of arrogance but also greed. And it is greed that keeps us tightfisted toward those we deem unworthy. However, when we recognize that all we have is a gift, when we see that it is God who has given us the ability to create wealth, we are then free to give it away. This is the biggest struggle ... the belief that you in fact have not earned anything and learning to believe that all you have has been given to you.

If you live believing that all that you have is the result of your working your fingers to the bone, and act as though the only way anyone will get anything from you is to pry it from your cold dead hands … you may be entitled. From this place we are no longer free to receive gifts, because we think we deserve them because of our hard work. At a deeper level it also prevents us from receiving grace, because we think we have performed well enough or behaved well enough.

But the God of Deuteronomy is not concerned with your performance, your title, your degrees, your paycheck, your zip code, your car, or the tag on your clothing and frankly he doesn’t give a damn how hard you worked for it. The God of Deuteronomy loves you because you are his son or because you are his daughter.

And by the way … he loves the person who hasn’t worked as hard as you because they are his son and daughter. He even loves the people some think are just looking for handouts because they are his kids too. This is the frustrating side of grace ... it is not about earning anything, it is about receiving, which in the end leaves us powerless. Powerless to do anything about the lavish, generous love of God.

You can stand right next to someone you think is unworthy and God will love you both the same. Grace is the epitome of unfairness in our context, which operates under the rule of entitlement.

The problem is, entitlement and grace cannot dwell beneath the same roof. And we must choose which one will be shown the door. Whichever choice we make will certainly influence the way we see the world – and perhaps the way we act at football games.

Sinful Thoughts, 1.4: Blame That Restores

2010-12-23T16:17:00.002-07:00

If we try to quickly fix a ruptured relationship, it can definitely dishonor the victim. As soon as we allow sin to become a clean cut and an offense against a faceless system we discredit the pain that comes to the victim. But we also do a disservice to the perpetrator.

Now we would not typically think that the person who has hurt someone else deserves anything. And if we would typically think this, then we would be misguided. To think this way is to see things contrary to the trajectory of Scripture.

The biblical narrative tells us of a God who is all about the renewal, redemption, and restoration of the cosmos. It tells us that God, in Jesus, is all about restoring the broken relationships that exist within humanity.

Our relationship with God.

Our relationships with others.

Our relationship with ourselves.

Our relationship with creation.

All of these relationships, because of sin, have been shredded, but the good news is that God is putting them back together bit by bit. God is repairing everything, the entire cosmos – this includes you and me, the very ones who are the perpetrators (Colossians 1.15-19).

If sin is something we move past quickly, in the end, we leave the one who sinned with something that is not truly repaired. By doing this, we leave them in a far worse place than they were before the sin was committed. They are not left renewed, they are left with a broken relationship that is still broken.

If we are to truly restore the one who has injured the other then we must be faithful to them and name their offense. We need to blame them. This is more than just saying something glib like, “You told me I was an f___ing idiot.” To speak in a way like that is to pretend that it was about the words used.

But it is more than just words. To speak that way says something of the heart of the one speaking, and it kills a piece of the one to whom the words were spoken.

To name the sin, is to tell the perpetrator what it has done relationally. It is to move beyond the actions that we want to apologize for, and focus on what the result of the actions are. It is to go beyond the hitting to the hurt that the hitting caused. Until the sin is seen for what it is, we will have a small chance of truly repairing the injury.

People apologize all the time for the things they have done. Few speak about the hurt they have caused others. Few have spoken about their need to change their own heart and mind. Few have spoken of a desire to mend the tear they caused in a relationship. Most just want everything to be normal again. As soon as we move quickly to make things normal, we fall short of loving the one who has caused the pain as well as we should.

This desire to make things better quickly is why perpetrators do not like to be told they are forgiven. If you as a victim tell another person, “I forgive you.” You are telling them they have done something to wound you. If the person who has wounded you does not want to hear that; they inevitably become angry and defensive. Why? Because you are moving in that moment past the surface and to a deeper place. As the brilliant Miroslav Volf says, "To forgive is to blame."

A friend of mine once told a person who hurt her that she forgave him. His response was fascinating. He said, “I wish you said ‘I hate you,’ that would be easier."

Why would he say this? Perhaps it is because if she hated him he would not have to acknowledge the wound that he gave her. However, when she told him of her forgiveness, she told him of what he had really done. Without pointing toward the wound, without naming the sin, without talking openly about what really happened, we have little chance of redeeming anything.

This is why forgiveness is the beginning of healing not the end of it. It is the beginning for both the one who sinned and the one who was sinned against. It is not a statement of judgment against the one who sinned. Rather, it is an acknowledgment of the wound that was dealt, and a statement of one’s willingness to move forward with restoration.

Forgiveness honors the perpetrator because it does not let him off the hook. It is the hard work of lovingly placing them on the guilty seat and naming the sin, so that the relationship can be seen for what it is in that moment, and the repair can begin.

Perhaps the most unloving thing we can do when someone sins against us and apologizes is to say, “That’s okay,” and move one. Because it is never okay. It is a tear, however slight, that if ignored will be a weak spot in the relationship moving forward that, without proper attention, will tear more easily in the future.

We must respond, devoid of anger or malice, in an honest way. Naming the sin so that the restoration can begin. Telling them of the pain so together we can heal. Then we will be able to properly mend the tear in the fabric of our relationships, which will make what was once a tear stronger than it ever was before.

That is serving the perpetrator. That is what's okay.

A Pastor's Response to Bill O'Reilly: Two Kinds of Societies

2010-12-14T14:24:00.003-07:00

Bill O’Reilly wrote a column on Saturday, December 11, 2010 about Jesus and unemployment that is creating a bit of a stir. In the article he warns of the fiscal danger posed to our country if we continue to help those who are out of work, stating, “There comes a time when compassion can cause disaster.”

I am not a politician, nor have I ever claimed to be. Nor am I an economist, as my wife, who tends to our family checkbook will tell you. I am however, like O’Reilly, a Christian. And this column, in which he openly states that he is a Christian, concerns me.

In the article O’Reilly references Congressman Jim McDermott who said, “This is Christmastime. We talk about Good Samaritans, the poor, the little baby Jesus in the cradle and all this stuff. And then we say to the unemployed we won't give you a check to feed your family. That's simply wrong.”

O’Reilly, in response writes, “By invoking the baby Jesus, McDermott puts an important question in play: What does a moral society owe to the have-nots?” This question, which is important, makes a subtle move away from Jesus and toward a “moral society.”

Many would agree that if a society were to live according to the teachings of Jesus we would have a society that would be deemed moral. But a society rooted in the teachings of Jesus and committed to living out his teachings is far different than a society that one could simply call “moral.”

For the most part we in the United States are moral. Most agreeably abide by a traditional Judeo-Christian ethic. Many go further and add religious language and symbols to this moral society and call it “Christian.” But it is not Christian; it is moral. The problem with a moral society, even ours, is that it practices a selective morality. We select certain issues as wrong or sinful, while accepting and promoting other issues as good and necessary.

When O’Reilly asks a question about what a moral society owes the have-nots he moves us away, not toward Jesus – the same Jesus he invokes at the beginning of his question. Make no mistake, Jesus is moral, but our morals are not Jesus. This is because our morals are often incomplete, shortsighted, biased, and frequently human-made constructs. Jesus, is radically different.

If O’Reilly were to ask, “What does a society rooted in the teachings of Jesus and committed to living out his teachings owe to the have-nots?” The answer would be drastically different than the one he advocates.

When we invoke the name of Jesus as Christians, as O'Reilly boldly does in his column, we must speak with a voice that transcends traditional politics, economics, partisan division, petty debate, and divisive rhetoric. We must speak in a way that moves all of us toward the heart of Jesus.

In this column O’Reilly concludes by writing, “… being a Christian, I know that while Jesus promoted charity at the highest level, he was not self-destructive. The Lord helps those who help themselves. Does he not?” And so I conclude in response to his closing remarks.

As Christians, throughout Scripture we learn of a God who always comes to the aid of the have-nots. The slaves, the poor, the hookers, the orphans, the widows, the immigrants, the sick. We meet the God who is always in the business of helping the ones who cannot help themselves precisely because they cannot help themselves - this includes you, me and Bill O'Reilly.

As Christians, we confess this God. The one who goes about helping the people who could never help themselves. This kind of God is one who is treading on a path of compassion that can cause disaster … even the disaster of the cross.

Sinful Thoughts, 1.3: A Slow Fix

2010-12-09T17:04:00.001-07:00

Fixing problems within a system is rather easy. Since everything has a place and a function, we can quickly determine when a part is malfunctioning. We assess it and replace it or repair it as needed. When we live according to this system we fool ourselves into believing that we can get along fine with a quick fix. This quick fix not only happens in the life of the individual, but there is often an attempt to quickly fix relationships as well.

This attempt, while noble, is often approached in the same way we have been trained to relate to systems. We think there is a clean cut with defined boundaries, and there needs to be some sort of correction. The problem with this is that relationships are never clean cut.

Sin brings with it wounds and pain at different levels. The injuries sustained always take time to heal. Yet when sin is a simple matter of rule-breaking and behavior modification we believe that when we are back “in-bounds” and the behavior is good, that the one we sinned against should also be ready to resume business as usual – after an apology of course.

Earlier this week I sat with a fellow from our faith community who was aghast about an email he had received. There is a person in his life that has caused him tremendous pain. This person has caused him financial strain, turned others against him, and created deep emotional scars.

After more than a year of not hearing from him, he received a rather friendly email from this person expressing they were sorry and wanted to “reconnect.” He wrote an email back saying that he could not, at this point in his life, see this person. The person then replied to ask why he was so unforgiving, and explained that his response was not that of Jesus. He said to me, “What am I supposed to do? I do not want to see this person, and because of this I am told that I am the one who is unforgiving!”

When we make sin something other than a relational rupture, even our attempted repair of it falls short. Until we are willing to identify sin for what it is we will never be able to bring proper healing. A sinful action always has a perpetrator and a victim.

In my experience I have often seen the perpetrator wonder why the victim can’t just forgive. My friend Ryan was once asked by his abusive father, “Why can’t you just forgive and forget?” This question came only a week after his father brought up the idea that one day he might apologize to him.

This attitude of Ryan’s father is understandable when sin is removed from its relational context. When sin is just a step over the boundary, a breaking of the system’s rules, or a small misjudgment, then we can just say, “I’m sorry” and move on. But for the victim it is never that easy. And no amount of good behavior will fix things quickly.

It always takes time, love, and miraculous healing to move beyond the deep wounds that our sin deals in others. As soon as we try to hurry the process along we fail to see the splintered mess that sin creates. Repairing a clean cut is easy. Sewing something that has been torn apart back together is hard. The reality is that it will never be the same.

Sin upsets what used to work. Sin upsets the relational connectivity between two souls, and this kind of connectivity is never repaired by a quick fix. To forgive in a quick, glib manner is to forgive cheaply. This kind of forgiveness allows (and can even encourage) victims to bury their pain and wounds. In this way of thinking they are supposed to “get over it” and move on. They are supposed to forgive and forget (incidentally, where are we told to forgive and forget in the Bible?) This thinking only victimizes the victim further.

In the repair of sin, it is the perpetrator, the one seeking forgiveness who gives power over to the victim. We move from the one who was in a place of power, giving the wound and submit ourselves to the one under, utterly helpless and placing ourselves in the hands of the one we wounded.

Perhaps this is why seeking forgiveness is so difficult.

Perhaps this is why we have tried to systematize it.

Perhaps this is why so many today live with no real healing.

In our repair of sin we need to see the ugly side. The side that damages those we love. For when we see the broken relationships and frayed emotions that sin creates, we may move toward a truer healing.

Sinful Thoughts, 1.2: The Betrayal of Behavior

2010-12-02T11:51:00.002-07:00

When we attempt to make sin a clean cut by amassing a long list of rules we unknowingly give birth to something that can take us further from our hearts and true selves. This thing is something called behavior modification. If you’ve been around rule based systems you know what this is. Behavior modification, in this context, is more concerned with one’s external performance than with their internal self.

Several weeks ago I had lunch with an old friend from the college I attended. He told me that while there he was able to obey the rules and never caused any trouble. He said to me, “I looked the part and acted the part, I never questioned anything. The downside of this was no one asked me about how I was doing inside.”

Why did no one ask about his inner self? In his estimation it was because he could behave beautifully within the system. If his outward behavior was good, then all must be right with him. This was true for many at our school.

Conversely, if you did not obey the rules well the immediate assumption was that you were not living a godly life. While the college made claims of wanting to create critical thinkers, the reality that I saw and experienced was that the critical thinkers who challenged the presumptions, questioned the accepted, collective thinking, and were free from the rules were the marginalized. My friend at lunch said, “I think the students who were asking the hard questions and even rebelling when we were at school are the ones who were in a better place.”

He may be right. It was the ones who went against the institutional norms and preferences (even those whose inner life was quite healthy) that warranted the most attention. In the end my friend and I agreed that outward behavior was no indicator of the heart of a person. I saw this many years ago in the most devastating way when a friend of mine was caught in his sex addiction.

The more details about his secret life that were exposed the darker things became. Many came around him in a show of love, compassion, mercy, and grace - including his wonderful wife. As time went on however, much of the advice and counsel he received was focused on behavior.

One evening my wife and I had dinner with them, and on the way home we talked about their situation. Our concern was that few were asking questions of the heart. Most of the advice given him was about how to prevent making the same mistakes again. Most of the instruction began with the words “Do not …”

Few were asking about his heart. Few were asking questions that dug deeply in order to explore what was stirring in his soul that could lead him to such dark actions. The lack of these kinds of questions, and the intense focus on behavior reveals what most of us really want.

We want things to be okay. We want smiles, happiness, and politeness. If we can act outwardly in a way that displays all of these things then we can fool ourselves into believing that we are all good. Sin becomes easily repaired. If we “do not” do this or that anymore, then we are all good - at least on the outside; even if our inside is disintegrating.

This way of seeing was on display in 2008 when Beijing hosted the Olympic Games. The day after the marathon was run there was an article exposing China’s dark side. The article spoke about how all along the marathon route Chinese officials hung massive backdrops. They were decorated with Chinese art and the Olympic Logo. As much of the world watched all they saw were athletes running along paved roads with art in the background.

The article spoke of how the art that was hanging was there to cover over the slum conditions of many who live along the marathon route. It was a sham. On one side it was the Olympic Games - the height of human achievement, the glory, the competition, and the sportsmanship. On the other side it was dire poverty - the agony, the brokenness, and the epitome of human frailty.

Those curtains that covered the shame of a country are like the behavior that we can front, and the behavior that is often encouraged. It is a mask for our heart and soul. It allows us to clean sin up quickly and continues to move us away from being human.

We act as drones, responding simply to commands that we are given. If we respond well we are left alone. If we do not respond well we are fixed with punishment, a guilt trip, or a stern lecture - and we respond by changing the way we act. But all the while our pink, fleshy heart can escape unnoticed and unchanged.

Not long ago my wife received a phone call from my friend’s wife. It turns out he never stopped engaging his sex addiction. In many ways it has become worse than it was before she caught him the first time. We were saddened, but truthfully, not entirely surprised. He was able to get along for three years with an outward performance that ultimately demanded little inward transformation.

I believe that his close friends and loved ones do really care about seeing his heart and soul transformed. Yet they cannot seem to shake a system that places such a high priority on behavior. As long as we succumb to the easy systems that demand right behavior, we will forever forsake the relationship that calls for transformation.

If all we can see are a few broken rules or a nice clean cut, then all we need to fix it is right actions and behavior. But if we see deeper, if we see sin as something shattered, torn, and ruptured - then we will see beyond the actions into the heart. We will see the need for inward healing.

And when healing does happen, in time the outward behavior will change - not because of any dehumanizing system. Behavior will change because of a relationship that has transformed the heart, mind, and soul of the person.

Sinful Thoughts, 1.1: A Dehumanizing System

2010-12-01T15:11:00.005-07:00

I attended a Christian College (save one glorious semester at Clark State University). The education that I received was great. However, there was a subculture that I still find rather interesting. It was a culture of rules.

Not just a rule about where to park or a rule about where smoking is not permitted. I mean rules about dress code, rules about what music you could not listen to (I love Sandi Patty), rules about not kissing your girlfriend, rules about what time you needed to be in bed, and rules about how to obey the rules, and rules about pretty much anything. The student handbook was nearly as big as the enormous dictionary that sat on the podium in the front of our library.

I bring up all of these rules that we “agreed” to live under for a specific reason. It seems these rules are there to empower the school administration, faculty, resident directors, and students to manage sin well. Rules like this, anywhere they are found, allow sin to become a simple cut made with surgical precision.

When there are hundreds of arbitrary rules in place, sin becomes simple. If you break a rule, you sin. There is a boundary line and when you step over it you are guilty. It’s quite easy. This is what rules do, they make things easy for us.

We know when we’ve sinned. We then confess that we have sinned. Then we apologize for the sin. We ask forgiveness for the sin. Then we repeat the cycle.

This way of thinking and living, however, moves sin out of the sphere of relationships and into the world of transactions. Relationships are messy. Transactions are clean.

By reducing sin to a set of institutional preferences that are supposed to be kept by a group of students, we introduce ourselves to a world in which we as people are isolated and individualistic. Knowing these kinds of "systematic sin" worlds well, it does not take much before these rules creep into God's realm. Suddenly, God is a God of institutional preferences who plays by the same rulebook you do. In this, I saw many who traded in a relational God for an institutional God.

Our sin then is against a system or an institution. The offense is against a faceless entity, not against another person, or against God himself. There is not relational rupture at all, precisely because there is no relationship. It is a student and a system.

Perhaps we create all of these rules not because we are strict, legalistic, or because we do not want students drinking beer at a roadside park on the night they return from Christmas break during their senior year. Perhaps, subconsciously, we make these rules because it just makes things easier for us. It reduces pain, it reduces difficulty, and it creates an efficient way of dealing with sin.

While a system of rules may serve to make dealing with sin efficient; it also makes us less human. As women and men created in the image of God we are relational beings. As soon as we cut relationships out of our lives - even out of our sin - we diminish ourselves, and a system of rules can do just that.

For so many of us we live within these well-defined boundaries of rules, because it gives us comfort. Yet in the end it makes us less human, for our sin is reduced to a simple breaking of the rules. Our sin is removed from any relational connection. In this kind of system then, moving past sin is just a simple plan of behavior modification.

These systems do not work. They are as broken now as they ever have been. Sin is a destructive tear in the fabric of relationships. To pretend as though it is a simple cut is to make us all less human.

So let’s put our humanity back in our sinfulness. Let’s abandon the systems of belonging and acceptance that have dehumanized us for so long.

Sinful Thoughts, 1.0: A Relational Rupture

2010-11-23T12:38:00.005-07:00

A few weeks ago I spoke with a woman who was in tears. She was telling me about deep wounds in her heart given to her by someone who is very close to her. This person had injured her emotionally and spiritually in all sorts of ways most of her life.

The more she spoke, the more the tears rolled. What began as watery eyes gave way to painful tears. As each tear made their way down her cheeks, they told a story of abuse and betrayal. Sitting with her, listening to her, it was more than apparent. Where there was once a relationship there was now a tear. It was a tangled mess of what used to be a united heart and soul.

This is what sin does and what sin is. Sin, in the simplest of terms, is a ruptured relationship. It can take on almost any form, but ultimately it results in pain, loss, damage, hurt, mistrust, and the list could go on. What is so difficult about sin, this rupture in relationship, is that it damages what was once put together. It is messy and painful and initially very difficult to sort out.

Like an eruption, a rupture (both having their roots in the same word) causes a frayed disorder wherever it occurs. As soon as it happens there is some level of chaos. Nothing is as it was, and nothing will ever be as it will be.

A rupture, is in contrast, to a precise cut. A cut has clean, even lines. One can see where it begins and ends. But sin is not a clean cut. It is a tear in the fabric of human relationships – relationships with one another and relationship with God. Fibers that were once together seem to hang out from everywhere.

When it comes to sin, one thing is certain. It is messy. When we try to make it an open and shut thing we run the risk of ignoring both the perpetrator (sinner) and the victim (the one sinned against). We can try any number of things to make it better – behavior modification, glib answers, cheap apologies, expecting immediate forgiveness, and all sorts of assumptions that never bring true healing to the tear.

Sitting with that woman hearing of her pain, reminded me that sin is not neat, tidy, and ordered. With this in mind, we need to think together in what ways we attempt to make it cleaner than it really is.

Sinful Thoughts: An Introduction

2010-11-22T17:01:00.003-07:00

Sin is an interesting thing to say the least. To be honest, I am traditionally a little hesitant to speak about such a subject.

Some have chosen to use sin, and all they believe it is, to create “in groups” and “out-groups.” They do this by carefully crafting exactly what they believe sin to be. Then they point at people who are not like them and accuse them of what they have carefully crafted. Identification then becomes easy. There are “sinners” and us.

This kind of narrow thinking is often spurred on by pastors and ministers, and absorbed with little thought by many of their followers. Few would subscribe to this kind of thinking, especially when stated in such a harsh way (as it is here).

But let’s be honest, most of us have an opinion about sin. In my experience our opinion about sin usually involves what others are doing wrong - rarely does our opinion of sin start with ourselves. As soon as we begin to use sin to differentiate ourselves from anyone (and I mean anyone) we err.

While sin is a small word it has been transformed into a massive weapon. A weapon used to divide, to belittle, to puff ourselves up, and to dismiss many.

Much rhetoric about sin has been used to exclude. Most dialogue has devolved into a monologue, and the subject of sin is used as a soap box for the self-righteous to climb up on to preach damnation to the wandering masses. Given this, I feel that there is a lot to overcome to even begin speaking about it.

These are a few of the reasons that I do not like to talk about sin. Not because I do not think that it exists. Not because I want everyone to like me. Not because sin is not very trendy. Not because I am a relativist. Not because just saying the word “sin” sounds punitive. The reason I do not like to speak much about sin is because of the way sin has traditionally been spoken of.

As I sit and talk with people I have noticed something. Whenever the subject of sin arises in conversation I frequently sense a tension enter the conversation. A tension, mind you, in them and in me. Don't get me wrong, I do talk about what is going wrong in our lives and our world, but I often find myself using synonyms for sin that just sound a little nicer. Words like mean, broken, dark, Boston Red Sox, etc.

So then, why do I now wish to write about sin and talk about sin as "sin?" Truth be told I have had a lot of sinful thoughts lately (don’t judge, this simply is a poetic way of saying that I have been thinking about sin – which also sounds a tad off). As I have contemplated sin, what it is, how we go about sinning, how we approach it, and many other facets I am learning a great deal.

More and more I am optimistic about sin. In many ways I am warming up to it and liking the idea of sin more and more. So much so that sin may just edge its way back into my conversations and teaching. For now however, it is relegated to my blog.

Over the next space of time I will be writing some thoughts about sin. Feel free to chime in. This, as always, is intended as a place to begin conversation – not end it.

Two Sides of the Same Journey (Part Two)

2010-11-19T10:38:00.002-07:00

Last week I sat in a 9’ x 9’ home (think sheet metal fastened to scrap wood – more like a shack) in Mathare. Mathare is a slum in Nairobi. I was there with Dave, Kara, and Moses. Moses works in Mathare caring for the children there who otherwise would have no one to care for them. Shortly before being in the home, the four of us were on a riverbank watching more than thirty men brew Chang’aa.

Chang’aa is what we would call “moonshine.” It is a brew that can cause blindness and in some cases it causes death. It’s literal translation is, “Kill me quick.” In our context we might compare chang’aa and its addictive qualities to meth.

After our spectating was done, we walked into this home where three people were seated. All of them live in Mathare. They poured a glass of chang’aa for us. If the brewers of the chang’aa were the ones making the meth - then these people were the ones dealing it. Nearly 10,000 miles away from home and there I was - in the home of a drug dealer.

Immediately we could begin parsing out the right and wrong of this story.

We could speak about the illegal trade of brewing chang’aa. How those who brew it are responsible for the death and blindness of many. We could observe that those who sell it (like the women who poured us a glass) and say they are lawbreakers, and are guilty of supporting a dark addiction. Some, no doubt, would even pride themselves on how quickly they could break it all down into categories of right and wrong or good and evil.

But there in that home with a glass of chang’aa on the table in from of me, it was not that easy. I realized that often we are seduced into thinking that we can make statements about one thing or another that are true for all times, all places, and all people. But it is not always that simple.

Often our rules, regulations, norms, behaviors, political viewpoints, and social constructs limit the vast expanse of the Kingdom of Heaven – and often God himself. Even our theology can do this. Many make sweeping statements laced with a lethal amount of dogma, and compound the problem by tacking a bible verse or two on it to support what they are saying.

Over time these constructs become accepted, collective thinking. Through this certain behaviors and rules become normative and (worse yet) authoritative for us in the way we live. We do this all the time in our world, especially, it seems, in religious circles.

The problem with this is that many of our norms, behaviors, and even our theology is not rooted in the Text but in our culture. Our cultural norms and expectations often become more foundational to us than Scripture. We ignore context and assume that our statements can exist outside of it. But this is never the case.

Every assertion, statement, and belief comes from the mind and heart of a person who is situated in a particular context. Like it or not, our zip code often influences much of the way we see the world. There is nothing wrong with this - as humans we always speak from a point of reference. The danger however is when we live as though we are beyond context.

There are few things that are abundantly clear in the Bible. Those things can serve as pillars for us; they are foundational. There are many more things however, that are hard to understand. While we tend to feel more comfortable living in black and white; the Bible invites us to live in a world of vibrant color.

Which brings us back to the house in Mathare, where a glass of chang’aa was in front of us. Moses asked us, “How do you preach the gospel to these people? Do you start by telling them selling chang’aa is wrong? If they stop selling it they will starve and not be able to pay rent. If I start by telling them they are wrong, then they will stop listening to me. So what do I say? How do I preach Jesus?”

Dave, Kara, and I had no response. I mean, what do you say? I thought of my wife and my three children. If I was desperate what would I do to feed them? Is it right to break some rules to save their life? How far would I go? Sitting on a couch next to this woman I realized these are the questions she is forced to ask everyday.

After a moment of silence and contemplation, Moses said, “I’ll tell you how you preach the gospel … incarnation. Simply being the hands and feet of Jesus in this place.” With that he stood up and paid them for the glass of chang’aa and we walked out.

I had this sense that I was in the midst of scandal, which is right where Jesus was much of the time. With Jesus, it was not so much that he was breaking God given rules, but more that he was breaking the permissible guidelines that many had created - boundaries that were a construct of humans. In the event that God showed up outside their box, then they presumed that it could not be the work of God. This is why they accused Jesus of being a part of the kingdom of darkness.

I am learning that we tell our story trying to place God in it. But we are called to tell God’s story, to discover where God is working, and find ourselves in God’s story.

I am learning that we live in a creation of our own making and invite the Creator to live within it. But we are called to live fully in God’s creation and discover the Creator in the most unlikely of places.

Places, like a shack in Mathare where chang’aa is poured out. The kind of places Jesus sat when he was on this earth. The places he still sits, present in people like Moses, embroiled in the scandal of grace.