Listening, the basic question came to me: What, exactly, is the gospel? I think some of our problem is that we have failed to fully understand this term with all its implications. Some refer to a "social gospel" while others hold to a "spiritual gospel."

Is what I tell others about God and his redemptive and reconciliatory actions good news? Both in my words and my actions? Perhaps. But not necessarily.

It depends on me. Paul wrote (II Corinthians 5) that we are the representatives of Jesus, and it's as though God were speaking through us, making his appeal to the world for reconciliation. So then we might say that we are a walking, talking gospel, an advertisement for God. Examined in that light, is what my life says good news to others? Is there a reason they should want what I have?

For most of the 20th century, the American church was split: the "social gospel" folks on one side of the fence, and the "if you died right now, would you go to heaven" folks on the other side. In recent years, the animosity between these two extreme positions has lessened somewhat, partly due to the growth of an evangelical movement that has sought a more balanced middle way.

With this is a shift among many American evangelical Christians to a better understanding of the gospel. For these, it's not "spiritual" or "social," but something bigger that includes both.

For much of the evangelical church, the good news is no longer about simple and - in the minds of most people - irrelevant questions about heaven. In fact, I'll argue that the very question ("If you died right now would you go to heaven?") indicates a badly distorted and unbiblical understanding of what God is about.

The gospel, as often presented, is a long ways from good news to anyone. How can what might happen some distant day be good news to someone who is living a hell-on-earth life? Does God not care about life here and now as well? (And as a matter of fact, there is nowhere in scripture that says anyone will spend eternity in heaven.)

When we pass out tracts about heaven and hell and are concerned only with one's "eternal destiny," and have no interest in the difficult and often dirty aspects of life here and now, we are telling the world we have nothing of relevance to their lives.

Perhaps the best place to seek an understanding of good news is in the Bible. In the Gospels, I think it's interesting that most of the time, Jesus was busy meeting the everyday needs of the people: food and health. He didn't say a lot about "when you die...," but was focused on "right now."

And if we look to the Old Testament, at ancient Israel, we will see that being "a light to the nations" wasn't about making them into Jews or even worshippers of the God of Abraham. Israel was told to practice justice, to demonstrate the blessing of a people living under the one true and living God. Over and over, Israel was exhorted to practice justice, and blasted when they refused.

So what's the good news for us?

I'm a member of a church that is perhaps 40-50 percent refugees, with a few immigrants thrown in for flavor. They come from eight or ten different countries, and are Christians, Buddhists, Muslims and Hindus.

Yes, you read it right: There are non-Christians who come to our church. Not many, but they are there. And I have noticed something, as I have been involved especially with Burmese refugees. Many are Christians, but not all. But Buddhists have no interest in hearing any Christian "good news." Nor do the Muslims. They don't consider Jesus as good news at all.

And yet, they have material needs. And some of these "needy" Buddhists and Muslims are coming and saying they want to become Christians. Nobody told them "the plan of salvation." Nobody gave them an evangelical "invitation." We don't speak their language well enough to do that, in any case. So why do they come?

"Christians take care of each other." The Christian community among the Burmese has a reputation for taking care of people. The Buddhists do not. The Muslims do not. And when people come to our church, asking for help, they are never asked if they are Christians. They receive help.

So now, we see a working definition of the gospel that is truly good news. It's what Jesus did. He loved them and met their needs, and they responded.

We love people, try to meet their needs, and accept them as they are. And they see the difference. And after a time, some are coming and saying, "I want what you have. I want to be a Christian."

That's good news.

The first group contains regrets. That contained far too many items. It included my desires, both that many were and remain unmet, and the idea that I thought I could make things happen to satisfy these deepest longings. The result was a wreck. Also included are injuries, both those inflicted on me and those I have inflicted on others. There has been much pain, some mine and some caused by me in others, acting out of my own pain into their lives.

There are also the lies. Some of these are lies I was told by others - lies that I believed. They began at a young age, and shaped my life for many years. "Larry, something's wrong with you. You need a psychiatrist." (I was a struggling teenager, in teenage rebellion. I needed someone - a father - to love and encourage me.) I grew up believing I couldn't do anything right, that I had no talents and not much intelligence. In short, I didn't think I was worth much. These things had a terribly destructive effect on my life, and they were the work of others in my life.

But there were also lies I told. Some, I told to others, trying to make myself into someone worthy of respect. Didn't work. Others, I told to myself, with the same goal. Didn't work there, either. Some of the latter were that I was simply incompetent to live a fulfilling life. A born screw-up. At the same time, that I was very competent to do just that. Looking back, the first involved relationships, where I didn't do well. The second, intellectual and vocational matters, where I did better.

I joined the Air Force the day after graduating high school. I accomplished that graduation by the narrowest of margins, and my departure was a relief both to the school and my family. I was not fun. But in the structure of the Air Force, I excelled. I was incompetent and I was competent. And both were lies. In truth, I was at the same time both more and less competent than I thought.

I also told myself - reinforced by the behavior of some others, that I could have personal value if I just worked hard enough. I could earn success and respect, both self-respect and the respect of others. And the truth is, I could indeed excel at some things, but when I did, whether it impressed others or not, it made no difference in my own sense of value.

Then there are my fears. Actually, one fear. There is only one thing that frightens me to the point of paralysis: sameness. The idea that what is will always be, frightens me. The idea that I am condemned to making one mistake after another, and even after I learn better, stumbling around in the endless swamp of consequences of my mistakes, is terrible. Is there nothing better? Is this all there is in life? Not much to recommend it.

And that brings me to my hopes. You may be surprised to hear that my hopes do not include a nicer house, more education, better relationships and all that. Oh, and a sailboat. I would like to have those things, to be sure. But I have no hope that I can bring them to pass in my own strength.

My hope is in this: There is a redeeming God, one who knows me, as messed up as I am, and who passionately loves me and delights in me. And He is a God who blesses me, who grants me the great honor of knowing him, serving him, working in his Kingdom. And in him, nothing is lost, nothing wasted. Even the train wreck that has characterized portions of my life is and will be redeemed by The God Who Speaks, the God who cares deeply ... for me!

That makes all the difference. Hallelujah!

There are many blessings and advantages to living in America. We are a privileged people, and have myriad options in life. We're the envy of much of the world. I am glad to have been born an American.

But...

There is a sense in which, as they say, "All people are created equal." Every person is of equal value before God, and therefore, at least in theory, in the eyes of the law in America. But there is also an important sense in which we are all very different. We have different gifts, different interests, different levels of intelligence, and more. That being the case, there is a situation that's not uncommon among Americans, one that most people who have ever lived have not known.

Our problem is this: We have too many options. We can do a great many things with our time and life. It's not like we are foreordained to forever be, say, a mechanic or a truck driver or a teacher or whatever else. We have options. And I say it's a problem because we also have a tendency to want to actually do all those things. (Heavens! Whatever are we thinking?) So we run here and there, doing this and that, and in the process squandering the gifts - and the time - we have been given. It's squandering because, while we can do many things - and we enjoy that - we cannot do many of them well.

We all want to do well, to be a success, in the larger sense. The key to a successful and significant life is first of all in knowing and following Jesus. Intimately, closely. That's central and foundational.

After that, it's in being disciplined in the way we live our lives. Discipline comes in part from the work of the Holy Spirit in us, but also in learning what gifts we have that are more dominant than others, and then focusing on enhancing and using those gifts. Paul told Timothy to stir up the gifts that he had in him. But how can we know what makes us tick?

It is said there are two important moments in life: The moment we are born, and the moment we can say, "This is why I was born!"

One way is to think through life, asking, "What have I done that made me say, 'I would do this forever. I was born for this'?" Look for experiences that were profoundly satisfying. It may be helpful to ask God to bring things to mind.

In my case, after decades of trying so many things - military, law enforcement, education and much more - I have finally, far later than I wish, come to see life as I have just described. My passion is to know, love and serve God, and out of that to teach others how to do the same. I would rather teach people about Jesus than eat.

Likely, somewhere in you there is a similar passion. It may be evident, or it may be hard to find, perhaps because of youth and limited experience, perhaps because you've never thought about it. But it's there. And it would be greatly satisfying to you to learn what it is, and focus your efforts on that one area. It will give your life more coherence and will give you a greatly increased sense of purpose and priority.

Enough for today.

The church - the organized manifestation of the people of God - has problems. It is by no means perfect. But the same can be said about every alternative. It's universally true simply because the presence of people means the presence of problems. And this principle is further compounded because these particular people - the people of God - have an active enemy committed to their destruction.

Every church wants to be a success, to do well. That's just the way people are. For a church, a central indicator of success is in obeying the instruction of Jesus that we make disciples wherever we go. Make disciples. That's not the same as verbally "accepting Christ." Nor is it persuading someone to attend services, getting them "churched." Perhaps the clearest instruction given to his followers by the post-resurrection Jesus is that, as they go through life, they are commanded to make committed followers of Jesus (Matthew 28:18-20). So are we. Therein is success for a church.

Considering who Jesus was talking to, he could not have had in mind what passes for discipleship in much of the American evangelical church, typified by lifestyles no different from the world, virtually no biblical knowledge, and a hodge-podge of convenience-store theology that has little to do with the traditional understanding of orthodox Christianity.

This is true of too many churches: They are irrelevant to the communities around them, regardless of the size of the church, and the "changed lives" they know are nothing like those found in scripture and the early church. They are powerless, because they have forgotten - or never known - the Good News.

This is a tragic situation that grieves the heart of God, and should not be. But it will not change as long as the church pays lip service to discipleship.

But, someone might be saying, what about worship? Isn't that a priority? Or evangelism? Or works of social service? Aren't these things important as well?

Yes, they are. These activities should be a part of every healthy church. But these and other aspects of the life of the church must come out of a growing understanding of what following Jesus is about. It's not possible to worship "in spirit and in truth" if we are living a lukewarm faith or even a life of flat-out disobedience. And without discipleship, we don't grow in maturity, and often have little to say to the world: We're just like the world around us.

And we certainly should be meeting social needs. But without discipleship, we become just another social service agency. The church is called to much more than that.

All these things - worship, evangelism, service to others - are the product of discipleship, and cannot stand without it. But how?

History is a great teacher. Paul wrote that the things written in the Old Testament are for our benefit, that we might read them and learn (I Corinthians 10:6).

The history of human society shows a consistent pattern of a downward moral and ethical path. Left to our own devices, we don't get better with time, we get worse. Much worse.

The history of God's people - both before and after Jesus - is not as consistently downward as the world at large. Our pattern is more of a wave: repeated falling away followed by an awakening and turning anew to our God, and then another falling away. Often, the overall trend is downward. We need not look far to see places that were once major centers of Christianity, where now there remain only traces and empty churches. Europe is a good example.

Americans are not exempt from this pattern. In fact, one might reasonably argue that the church in America is on the down side of the wave. And I will also argue that the health of the church will be a major factor in determining the health of the nation.

What can be done to reverse this appalling trend?

The first historical lesson that comes to mind is from the dedication of Solomon's temple, recorded in II Chronicles 7. God speaks to Solomon about the problems of hard times. He said: "If I shut up the heavens so that there is no rain, or if I command the locust to devour the land, or if I send pestilence among My people, and My people who are called by My name humble themselves and pray and seek My face and turn from their wicked ways, then I will hear from heaven, will forgive their sin and will heal their land" (7:13-14 NASB).

So step one is for God's people to humble themselves, pray, seek the face of God, and turn from our complacent ways. As we do that, God is faithful to hear, to forgive and to heal both us and our land.

But how can this happen? Leadership. It begins with leaders, men and women who are charged to be faithful to God's word, teaching and preaching prophetically, calling the church to repentance. They need to present the gospel in its fullness. And they need to be on their knees, confessing their own sins and unfaithfulness, and praying for an awakening both in themselves and their people.

When the people repent and pray, God hears. But nothing will happen if the leaders are not first disciples, committed followers of Jesus.

If that's true - no disciples - then the leaders of the church come into the same condemnation as the leaders of ancient Israel: spiritual whores leading people into yet greater unfaithfulness and immorality.

This ought not to be. It's imperative that the church make as its highest priority the great and difficult work of making fully committed followers of Jesus. Nothing is more important.

But what about the other parts that make up "me"? We all have a spiritual aspect, and an intellectual one, as well. And we have our individual lives and corporate lives, too. BOth spiritually and intellectually, we are made to be with each other. So what about the church? What if we look at "we" rather than "me"? Are there things the church should be doing to promote health, as well? I think so, and they are badly needed.

Using our physical bodies to illustrate, this is like saying that as long as we're getting bigger and richer, we're doing well. So we may break the scales, but that's okay: we're "growing."

But healthy growth has to do with more than mere mass. It has to do with bone development, muscle tone, cardiovascular effectiveness, and even mental and emotional maturity. Merely bigger is not necessarily better. That should be especially evident in obese America. And like people, obese churches are not healthy churches.

And then there's the matter of wealth: Does the money keep coming in? More money is good, right? But in a great many cases, the money is used mostly to support the church's lifestyle of more bloat, more obesity, and little mission. Again, not healthy.

Like size, money is not a primary indicator of health. It's one factor, but if wealth alone indicates God's pleasure and blessing, there are many in America who must be right. I'm talking about irreligious people who nevertheless claim God's approval because they are wealthy. We don't have to look far to see examples. Some are in the church. And the lifestyle of too many churches is simply to encourage more of this obscenity.

I want to be clear: I am neither anti-growth nor anti-wealth. A healthy church will generally grow in numbers, and it will also become self-supporting. But unhealthy churches can be both of those, as well.

There's a better way.

The first task of the church is to make disciples. It is to, as some have put it, to "make irreligious people into fully committed followers of Christ."

I suspect most churches would claim they are doing just that. But my question is, "How do you know it's really happening? Are you living on assumptions?" In too many cases it's the latter. Because the numbers increase and the money flows, all is well, and there is no objective measure of spiritual growth.

The folks at Willow Creek in Chicago have in the past couple years gotten some attention for undertaking extensive research into spiritual growth. They were unwilling to trust assumptions. The results, which they have published, make fascinating and surprising reading.

Fascinating because they talk about us, giving us a more objective look at our collective health. Surprising because of the unexpected results. The results brought major changes in Willow Creek's approach to discipleship. But "facts are our friends," and in an undertaking as important as this, operating on assumptions should be unthinkable.

Here's one indicator of the problem: I once recommended a book on stages of spiritual growth to two congregational leaders. One expressed interest, took the book, and promptly forgot about it. It is probably still unread. The other openly scoffed.

Can a church be healthy, fulfilling the mission of our God while operating on assumptions, or in the latter case, even arrogance?

A church may have many worthy outreach ministries, and see good things happening. But unless there is an intentional, carefully planned approach to discipleship, the end result is social work.

In every church, there are those who long for more depth and meat in their spiritual lives. They want to grow, which is a sign of health. But when the "discipleship" consists of random superficial "discussions" on a Bible passage, led by whomever happens to get the nod that week, is it a surprise that there is no deep growth?

Worse, can it be good that those who express frustration with the lack of "meat" in the discipleship diet are told, "Well, you know, every church has people like you. I hope some day you find what you're looking for." As if people longing for depth and intimacy with God were nothing more than malcontents.

This response is not uncommon, sadly, though some churches are more blatant about it than others. Can this possibly be healthy? Is the leadership being faithful to their responsibility before God and the people?

Impossible.

This situation grieves me. These leaders take their people to dry wells, places with no life. What happens then? They seem content with a church of spiritual babies, people unchallenged and uncaring about truly following Jesus in deeper, sacrificial ways, people who ask no questions. But the "leaders" in these churches will answer to God for their care of the people. What then?

This appalling situation grieves and angers me, and I wonder what God thinks of it.

Enough.

I confess I am not much of a reader of fiction. It's not that I don't like it, but that I have so much other stuff to read, I just don't have time. But I was up to my eyeballs in the theology book I was reading, and needed something "light." So I picked up The Shack.

My first concern was that I would lose interest and not finish. That didn't happen. I read through it in less than 48 hours.

First, concerning the writing style, I was a little put off by what I considered an excess of descriptive retail. I don't care about the number of a forest road or some other details that don't move the story. But other than that, I found it easily readable.

Then there's the theology matter. There have been cries of dissent at the book by some theologians, and some who only think they are theologians. So as I read the book - the only novel I can remember marking as I went - I was paying attention to the theology presented. I know some have said, "It's a story, for crying out loud, not a theology book!" And it is indeed a story, but clearly it's a story that intends to teach the reader about God. That's theology, and it's not just theology, but some pretty deep theology.

So was I offended by it? It's certainly unorthodox in many ways, especially in its portrayal of God. But unusual or unorthodox - in the sense of custom, not theology - is not necessarily wrong.

I was initially perplexed more than offended, but after some thought, could see no reason that God could not appear in any form he chooses. If he can be a Middle Eastern Jewish man, why not an Asian woman or African-American woman or even someone like me? I can agree that there are reasons he did not come as those, but the question is whether scripture prohibits them. I don't think it does.

Emotionally, I had trouble putting the book down. The story was captivating, and in some places moved me deeply.

I believe that God can use films, books and the like to touch us and speak to us. These media - ways of telling a story - have the power to reach into us, getting beyond our intellectual walls and defensive barricades, giving the Holy Spirit a chance to work where we would not otherwise open the door.

One film that has done that for me is The Kid, a Walt Disney flick starring Bruce Willis.

The Shack will be in the same class. More than once I was in tears, and at one point I was praying and asking God, "Are you really that wonderful?"

So I'm glad I read it. I'm glad my friend asked me to do so and respond. I heartily recommend the book to anyone. Good stuff. (And I don't know or have any contact with the author or anyone else connected with the book. They don't know I exist. I say that for the government's sake. Jeez.)

So I did it, and that's what I thought about it. Better late than never, right, Lisa?

So, because He is good, He can be trusted. He can be trusted absolutely. He never fails, and will never fail us. God never forsakes us, though we are found faithless.

I know the truth of God's call. Its certainty surpasses the certainty of this day's sunrise. It is beyond doubt. I can build my life on the faithfulness of God's good call. It is a firm foundation. It is the firm foundation. This I know well.

And yet I wander. And yet I disobey. And yet, presented with this wondrous life - future and present both - I choose to play in the slop with pigs.

How can this be? How can a man - intelligent, educated, having seen the goodness of God over and again - make choices so appalling?

God! My God! Help me! Save me! Rescue from this pit into which I throw myself! Have mercy, O God! Have mercy, O my God!

One of the portions that made me crazy was Chapter 5. There's so much to say about this chapter, it's hard to know where to begin. Let's start by talking about this idea of exulting in tribulations.

I'll have to be honest and say I thought Paul was either lying or mentally unbalanced. Nobody likes trouble. Nobody likes pain and problems. But Paul did. Or at least, he liked what they produced, if he wasn't in love with the problem itself, or the pain it brought.

... knowing that tribulation brings about perseverance; 4 and perseverance, proven character; and proven character, hope; 5 and hope does not disappoint, because the love of God has been poured out within our hearts through the Holy Spirit who was given to us.

Paul was looking at the end, and not at the immediate present. My tendency is to focus on my circumstances: I hurt, and I don't like it. Why did you let this happen, God? When will this end, God? What did I do wrong, God? You might know the routine.

But one day, in the middle of a very hard time, I read Paul's words again, and a light came on. Paul wasn't in love with pain. He was in love with God, and he would joyfully accept anything that brought him closer to God, and made him more like Jesus. That's why he exulted in tribulation. We would, too, if we took the larger view, like Paul.

Then, in that same chapter, we read about death and life, about Adam and Moses and Jesus. Again, as I have read these I have done a lot of head scratching.

12 Therefore, just as through one man sin entered into the world, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men, because all sinned - 13 for until the law sin was in the world, but sin is not imputed when there is no law.

Some of this is pretty straightforward: Sin entered the world through the action of one person, Adam. And sin has as its normal consequence, death. When sin enters, death follows.

But what about the Law part? Before the Law, there was certainly sin in the world, and there were certainly consequences. Death. But it was impossible to address the problem of the pervasiveness of sin and death, and the attendant lack of hope, if there was nothing to point out the sin, to show its serious nature, and to offer a new way of living. Hence the Law.

14 Nevertheless death reigned from Adam until Moses, even over those who had not sinned in the likeness of the offense of Adam, who is a type of Him who was to come.

That death reigned is pretty clear. The world was - and is - a place of death. The question is why Paul says the reign stopped with Moses. It seems like it would continue on, perhaps until Jesus. But it doesn't.

Here's what it looks like to me: Before Moses - before the Law - there was no outcome and no remedy for sin but the death of the sinner. Sin had to carry on to its natural result. The world was one with no hope of relief from this hideous situation. Nobody liked it but everyone considered it was "just the way things are."

However, at the giving of the Law, things changed in an important way. Yes, people still sinned. Yes, there was still violence. Especially, there was still death. But there was another option. God provided a way to deal with sin besides the death of the sinner: The sacrificial system and a relationship with Him.

In a recent conversation, someone said the Law was about behavior. And someone else challenged that, saying it was about relationships. They are both right. But the first person - the behavior guy - wasn't looking deeply enough. The Law, indeed, addresses behavior. Certain actions are prescribed and certain others proscribed. Some of these are "big hairy deal" kinds of things, and others seem somewhat nitpicky, like what kind of fish can be eaten. But the unasked question is why is God so concerned with behavior?

It's because our behavior shapes our relationships. That's true on an interpersonal level, and it's true on between us and God. The entire Bible is about relationship: God seeks redemption and reconciliation so that He can have a restoration of the relationship He intended before the fall. And so God is prescribing the sort of behavior that builds space in our lives for knowing Him.

But there's still the problem of sin. When the Law was given, it included a mechanism for people to enter into a relationship with God. But in order to do that, the matter of sin must be addressed. Guilt is a relationship killer, as is shame.

So God gave Moses the Law, which included a way for sin to be addressed, so that people could be found righteous, even though the ultimate "payment" would not come for many centuries, in Jesus.

Paul argues that an important function of the Law was to dethrone death. Death no more reigns on this earth, despite appearances.

15 But the free gift is not like the transgression. For if by the transgression of the one the many died, much more did the grace of God and the gift by the grace of the one Man, Jesus Christ, abound to the many.
16 The gift is not like that which came through the one who sinned; for on the one hand the judgment arose from one transgression resulting in condemnation, but on the other hand the free gift arose from many transgressions resulting in justification.
17 For if by the transgression of the one, death reigned through the one, much more those who receive the abundance of grace and of the gift of righteousness will reign in life through the One, Jesus Christ.
18 So then as through one transgression there resulted condemnation to all men, even so through one act of righteousness there resulted justification of life to all men.

The last point I want to make concerns the "gift." What is the gift? Is it Jesus? Some say it is. But a more careful reading (v. 17) shows that the gift - and there may be more than one - is righteousness. Jesus is not the gift. The gift comes through Jesus. And the other possibility is life, the gift of life. But they're really the same: Through Jesus we are made righteous, and as we enter into that righteousness, we have life. LIFE! Not drab existence, but abundant life. Forgiven life. Purposeful life. Life worth living. LIFE!