In the conversation, many questions arose, a few of them mine. One of them, which had been gnawing at me for some time, had to do with their business name, which contained the word "Christian."
My question was, "What is it about what you do that makes it 'Christian'? How is what you do different from some 'secular' competitor down the street? Or is calling yourself Christian merely a marketing tool?"
What is it about a church that makes it different from, say, a social service agency?
Or my small group: What is it that makes it Christian, distinct from any other gathering of a dozen or so people?
And what about me? How is my life different from those around me?
If there's no difference, whether we're talking about my life, my small group, my church, or my business, then there's a serious problem.
I think these questions are profoundly important, and need to be asked and carefully considered. Assumptions are not acceptable; the stakes are too high.
For some folks, Christian means they are not Muslim, Buddhist or something else. It's the default answer, like a multiple-choice test. In many other cases, however, "Christian" means I "do things that Christians do, and avoid doing things that Christians don't do." But what are those things? When I was a boy in a fundamentalist church in Colorado, we had a saying, "I don't drink, cuss, smoke or chew, or go with girls who do."
Slightly humorous now, but no longer true of most groups of Christians, who drink, cuss, smoke and chew pretty much like the world around them. And yet, we might ask, should the life of a Christian be visibly different?
I think there's a good argument that it should. That's because genuine Christianity is about a relationship, not keeping rules. And that relationship is of such a nature that it produces changed lives. But not everyone understands that.
Some examples:
I often see Christians smoking. It is, of course, their right to do so. However, a Christian is not his own, but is rather the servant of another, representing that other - who is Jesus - to the world. Speaking for Jesus while engaged in a habit like smoking is unimaginable.
How about drinking? I belong to a small group, some members of which enjoy beer. So when we meet, there is usually beer. And I don't think there's necessarily a problem with that. But an experience I had once puts a different light on the situation, from my perspective.
I was living in Bavaria, the southern part of Germany, and went with another couple to a favorite Italian restaurant. There, while waiting for our meal to arrive, I ordered a glass of wine, and everyone else followed suit and did the same. After our meal, I had sipped half of my wine. The other couple had consumed several glasses.
I had not known that their history included serious alcohol abuse, from which they had been recently delivered. And when they saw me order wine - I was an elder in our fellowship - they assumed permission to do likewise.
After dinner, we left, going down some fairly steep, narrow stairs to the street. I had no problem. They had difficulty, and were clearly "under the influence."
Who was responsible? It was their choice, of course, and they were adults. But I was their elder, a spiritual leader, and I set the expectations by my behavior. By the rules of the world, it was their problem. By the rules of the Kingdom, I'm not so sure.
Since then, some 35 years ago, I have never ordered wine in public. As a Christian, my behavior should have been different.
The style of dress - for both sexes - is another area of consideration. Modesty is a virtue.
But these things, which are easy to talk about, and not the central problem.
The central problem is this: we don't believe the Bible or consider it important. We don't believe the things written there are really true or that they apply significantly in our lives today.
Especially, we don't believe that we need the Holy Spirit in our lives in order to live a life that is biblical and that honors God. We can do it "all by myself," and don't need anyone's help. After all, we're big boys and girls now.
But we're not. The whole idea is laughable if we consider that even Jesus needed the Holy Spirit to accomplish that for which he came.
And so, we buy into the terrible idea that to be a Christian, a follower of Jesus, is little more than being a nice person and attending church now and then. We reduce Jesus to something less than the personal Lord and Savior that he is, and we make Christianity a powerless, feel-good pablum that does no good for anyone.
Surely, this is not what God had in mind.
Christmas is depressing because, for most people, it's a tawdry orgy in honor of materialism run wild. It's an event unworthy of those bearing the image of God. For others, however, it's a time marked by hope and excitement at the dawning of a new day.
Despite this paradox, it's perhaps my favorite time, because it marks - admittedly inaccurately - what is the most astonishing event ever: God becoming a man. It marks the day when hope was born, a day when we began the journey from darkness to glorious light.
Some years back, I was in a church that didn't celebrate Christmas. The very idea was anathema. I swallowed hard one week, and spent my teaching time explaining why I thought it was simply wrong to ignore the birth of Jesus.
I appreciate that the very early church didn't consider the birthday of Jesus worth marking, and they didn't even mention the time in their earliest writings. Only the event, and even that somewhat briefly.
But that was typical of many ancient cultures, for a variety of reasons. The church was far more concerned about what happened - the results and implications of the birth of Jesus - than when it happened.
Perhaps they were wise, given the "Christmas" practices in the western world today, which demonstrate how badly our culture - and much of the church - has missed it.
I just finished reading an article suggesting that we spend so much attention and energy on the birth of Jesus some two millennia ago that we fail to see or hear what he is doing in our midst today. Everything is focused on the coming of a helpless and loveable baby, and nothing on the present work of the King of Kings among us.
That raises some questions: Just what is he doing among us? Anything? As we attend services at our churches, celebrating the event and season, can we look around and see God visibly at work among us? What about in our communities? Is God at work there? What is he doing? Or are we just going through the motions, trying to baptize the orgy of materialistic spending around us?
As I have written these thoughts - somewhat random - I wonder: How, every day of my life, does the birth of Jesus affect me? What difference does it make that he was born, lived, died, and rose again. Not generically, and not theologically, but practically: How is my life different today because of Jesus?
Have the merriest of Christmas times, celebrating the coming of the King of Kings, the birthday of Hope. Hallelujah!
I love these people, and enjoy them a great deal. However, I have struggled with their Christianity, which too often seemed to me a name only. A "Christian" was a nice person, someone who God would see as a "good boy" or a "good girl."
I decided to do a little informal research, so I asked a friend what I thought was an easy question, at least for a professing Christian.
"Who goes to heaven?"
]]>This is profoundly sad and it ruined my day and a lot more. So later, I asked yet another person, also a professing Christian, the same questions. Same answers.
And I am learning that that answer is held by nearly every person I know in that community.
That made me wonder about Americans who call themselves Christians. What would they answer? I expect there would be little difference. Most Americans tell researchers they believe there is a good place called heaven, and they expect to go there after death. And they expect bad people will not be there.
But I suspect that most people, even in evangelical churches, have no idea what the Bible says about the matter, because most people don't read the Bible. And this represents a tragic failure of the leadership of the churches: People can and do sit in church for years and never hear the truth, the Good News that Jesus lived and died and lives again for us, and that life is not about some phony standard of "being good," but about knowing and following Him.
The idea of going to heaven if we are good is utter nonsense and leads to either a life of denial or complete but honest hopelessness. What we might call "good" is not the standard.
The standard is nothing less than perfection.
In fact, when we try to define who is good, somehow we usually include ourselves in the group. And whatever identifies those who are not good - the bad guys who will certainly not be in heaven - seldom includes us.
Here's a news flash: Nobody, not one person of us, is good. None. I am not, and you are not. Only God is good (Mark 10:17-18). And the goodness of God far surpasses anything we might apply to ourselves or anyone like us: God is perfect. He is morally and in every other way without flaw or blemish. He has never told a lie. He has never stolen, even a candy bar. Nothing.
No human being who has ever lived has measured up or could. We have all lied, all stolen. We have all let our minds wander to places that we don't want to talk about.
So then, if only those who are perfect go to heaven, who has any hope? Not me. And not you, either.
Heaven is where God lives. It's a holy place. It's the most holy place. And nothing that would defile it is permitted to enter. That includes me. And you, too.
Of course, God knew all this from the beginning, and He did not leave us in this hopeless condition. He had a plan, and He put that plan in action. The plan has a name.
Jesus.
That's it. The beginning, the middle and the end are wrapped up in that one name: Jesus.
God well knew that, left to our own resources and inclinations, the task is impossible and we are without hope. And so He did the logical yet unthinkable thing, He took on flesh, became the man Jesus, and lived with us, without sin and without fault. And He both died and rose again to life, so that we might through faith in Him have life. So that we might through faith in Him have hope.
And where does that leave us? The Bible clearly teaches that our salvation and our hope come from one place only: through faith in Jesus, accepting the grace that God offers through him.
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes on him shall not perish, but have eternal life" (John 3:16).
"...'Believe in the Lord Jesus, and you will be saved....'" (Acts 16:31).
"For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast" (Ephesians 2:8-9).
It's clear. It's not about good people and it's not about bad people. It's about Jesus.
Only Jesus.
I have struggled for years with this statement of Paul's. If the kingdom of God is power, where is the manifestation of that power among us? It's hard to find. Are we not in the kingdom? I read credible reports from other parts of the world that sound like the next chapter of the book of Acts. But here....
Reading the gospels, I am struck by the actions of Jesus, as he healed the sick, gave sight to the blind, raised the dead, set free those oppressed by demons, and more. Demonstrations of power. And, significantly, he said these things were signs of the arrival of the kingdom. People knew he was legitimate and that the kingdom had come by the acts of power they saw through Jesus.
That's a common response and a reasonable one. "Of course Jesus did miracles! He was Jesus, after all!" But here's the thing: Jesus said that he was sending his followers the same way the Father sent him (John 20:21). And if we are expected to do the things he did - and we are - how can we do them without something like the power that he had?
Was Jesus unique in that respect? Did he have some inherent power that we lack?
No.
Two thoughts: First, Bible scholars generally agree that Jesus left his inherent power, prerogatives and privilege as God when he took on flesh. See Philippians 2:5-8, called the kenosis, or emptying, passage.
And second, if we are sent by God to do a job on his behalf, and we cannot do it - as opposed to will not do it - has God set us up? What sort of loving God would tell us to do something that he knew well we were incapable of doing? I don't think God does things that way.
Now, this is mind boggling for many people, and it probably should be for the rest. It's a huge responsibility and, speaking for myself, I am incapable even of accurately understanding it, much less doing it. Those who say it's too much are correct. Sort of.
So what's happening? Was Jesus just joking? Was his statement accompanied by a smile and a wink, and John overlooked it? Unlikely. We have to take John's words seriously and as an accurate account of the intent of Jesus.
So where does that leave us? Are we doomed to disobedience when we cannot obey?
No again.
After Jesus said he was sending them - and us - he did something else that we often overlook. He "breathed on them and said, 'Receive the Holy Spirit'" (John 20:22).
And the implications of this action are made clear when he continued in the next verse: "If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained."
Wow! This is the mind-blowing part for me. If we forgive sins...? Isn't that what got Jesus in trouble? He forgave sins. And those who saw understood that forgiving sins was the exclusive prerogative of God. Only God could do what Jesus did. And now, Jesus says we will do the same things, the things that only God has the authority to do.
How do we do it? How do we not be overwhelmed to the point of inaction, or not get a head so large we are insufferably obnoxious?
The Holy Spirit. It's by the power of the forgotten member of the Trinity: the Holy Spirit. The answer to the question of how Jesus did all that he did is the same as the answer to how we are equipped to do all that we are expected to do: The power of the Holy Spirit. That was the source for Jesus, and that's the source for us.
Yet, I have noticed that most Christians have no interest in this. They aren't concerned about Jesus sending us, no matter what that entails, and they certainly don't want anything to do with that Holy Spirit stuff. No speaking in tongues and rolling on the floor for me, thank you!
I think the problem is a both matter of misconception and of control. First, many of us haven't a clue what it looks like when the Spirit of God is present and at work in and through us. But we should have: We have only to look at Jesus. And second, we like to think we are in control of our lives. (A pleasant little delusion, perhaps, but deadly to faith.) And so we don't want to yield to what we think is foolishness and craziness.
So, that's it. Without the power of the Holy Spirit at work in and through us, all we have to offer the world is words. Insipid, powerless words. Who wants that?
If you have easy, immediate answers, you probably need to think longer and more carefully. This is a very important question, because the answers we give affect many other parts of our lives.
And if you support virtually unlimited abortion on demand, how do you justify taking the life of a baby who is weeks (or less) from birth, and doing so for the convenience of the mother? Can you really argue that it's not taking the life of a human being?
Easy answers?
I have discussed the question a number of times with women who favor abortion. A couple stand out in my mind. The first was a young woman who argued against taking any form of life. It was morally wrong, she said, to take any life: to kill a cockroach, or even a mosquito. All life was of equal value. A horse equals an ant equals a fish equals a baby girl.
At the end of this hour-long conversation, I said, "If all life is equal, and it is never justifiable to take a life, I conclude, then, that you oppose abortion. Right?" Wrong. End of discussion.
Part of my problem with these conversations is that they are so often dominated by contradictions, stereotyping and refusal to consider evidence that doesn't support one's preconceived ideas, on either side. If someone argues for abortion, that person is automatically deemed by the opponent as a radical left-wing, liberal humanist. But if someone takes a position against abortion, he or she is instantly labeled a Bible-thumping, fundamentalist bigot.
Neither is fair or conducive to civil discussion, even if the characterization may be true.
The other woman I remember was a student in a class I taught. She was writing a research paper defending abortion on demand. As she presented her research before the class, to my surprise, she said the process of research had forced her to change her mind about abortion. She no longer supported it except in rare circumstances. So now she had to change the entire premise of her paper.
So now, let it be known that I oppose abortion, with rare exceptions. Here are some reasons, none of which are from the Bible:
First, there is the matter of justice.
In America, every person is entitled by the Fourteenth Amendment of the Constitution to due process. That means nobody can legally inflict arbitrary penalty or punishment on another person, without going through the courts. And, by any reasonable definition I have seen, a baby - even before birth - is a human being, and hence a person. What else could it be?
In any other circumstance, Americans are disgusted and dismayed by the killing of an innocent human being. A sense of justice runs deep in our culture. But not in the case of an inconvenient pregnancy. So, on that basis, I am against nearly all abortions. Killing someone without some establishment of guilt is simply wrong.
Second, there is radical individualism and its cancerous fruit.
America is plagued by radical individualism, the idea that me, my wants, my needs, are of prime importance. There is little sense of commitment to community or responsibility for the welfare of others, even at the cost of the life of another. An entire generation has never learned about social responsibility, deferred gratification, or putting something off for the sake of something better. We are becoming in large measure a nation of children. And the end of it is devastating.
Research shows that most abortions are not done for medical reasons, nor are they truly to "protect the life of the mother." Under current law, just about any inconvenience is considered a threat to the life of the mother. Most abortions are done for convenience. And though the mother is nearly always blamed, a great many abortions are done after the mother is pressured by the father or others, and yields to those important to her.
A third reason is the slippery slope.
Like the newest model of small, economical auto, rationalized justifications for behavior tend to expand. After a few years, an econobox car will have a larger engine, a larger body, and more luxury. And with that, of course, a higher price. So it is with rationalized behavior.
If one justifies killing a baby before birth, it's a small step to say it's also acceptable after birth. After all, it's the same baby, and the difference is little. And in fact, we are seeing that in American society now. We don't have to look far to find news accounts of babies and young children horribly abused and even killed.
These rising numbers of child abuse, of children killed, and of other indications show that a significant segment of our culture takes human life as something of little importance. I live in an area where that happens often, and is in the news several times a week. There is, indeed, such a thing as a slippery slope.
So, what would I say to the mother of the anencephalic baby? Speaking as one who has never experienced that appallingly painful situation, I would say abortion is not the preferred solution. However, after reading accounts from medical doctors of the great suffering involved, I would reluctantly agree to ending the pregnancy by abortion.
Then what about the girl who was raped? This, to my thinking, is much different. The first priority is to remove her from the environment where it happened, and take strong legal action against the man. This girl needs to be in a loving, supportive environment. Then, given that environment, I think she should carry the baby to term, and offer it for adoption. She has a heavy load to carry in dealing with the emotional effects of rape. It will not help to add to that the effect of killing her baby.
I am certain not all who read this will agree, and that's okay with me. My intent here is not to persuade readers, but to provoke thought, both about abortion, the immediate topic, and about our attitudes, the underlying problem.
But I have concluded that age and wisdom are not necessarily linked. There are many cases where age does equal wisdom, certainly, but there are also many folks of advanced (or advancing) age who are no wiser than when they were children. Perhaps that's why there's another saying: There's no fool like an old fool.
As I have gotten older, I have thought about this a good deal, and about the "accomplishments" in my life. "Accomplishments" is in quotes because, while a few are positive and praiseworthy, many are not. Perhaps you understand.
That's the way of a child: I want what I want, and I want it now! It was also my way.
I just read an article on CNN about a problem in recent decades in American society: Many boys are refusing to become men. They are refusing to grow up and take responsibility. They continue to live for themselves. They live like I did, except in very large numbers.
But I'm not a boy any longer. In less than a year, I'll turn seventy. So it's obvious that I'm not a boy chronologically, but I'm also not a boy emotionally or mentally. I've grown up.
As I look back and imagine ahead, the question comes of whether I have lived a successful life so far, a life that has left the world a little bit better for my having been here. And, considering that, what should I be doing in the future, for however long my life might last? How do I want people to remember me, and what should I be doing now to make that happen?
A part of answering those questions is in defining success. Put concisely, I define success - for myself, other people, organizations, or things - as doing well that for which I was designed and intended. My assumption is that someone designed and made me the way I am. It's just too great a stretch to believe it "just happened." So, have I lived a life that meets God's standard of doing well that for which I was intended?
First, we have to consider just what was I designed to do. Considering that God is my designer, and he's in the business of redemption, I have my first clue as to my intended purpose. God is in the people business, and he has said that he wants me to represent him in caring for and reconciling the world to him(Gen. 2; II Cor. 7). He wants me to do the things that Jesus would be doing if he were here (John 20).
So, have I done that? Have I acted as a representative of Jesus? Have I acted as though my life was commissioned by God and sent on a mission in his name?
No. Not even close. I have already written about my early adult life.
But I am no longer what I was. I am no longer the insufferable ass of my youth. And I no longer live for myself as I did then.
As I have gotten older, I have realized that I am not living in some sort of game, where I can make up my own rules. And I have realized that he who dies with the most toys does not win, he's just dead. I have realized that God has called me to be his very junior partner in the family business, which is the business of redeeming people and building the kingdom of God.
And that makes all the difference.
A scholar once said his research of leaders - biblical and secular - showed that about two thirds of those who led well did not finish well. That is, after a life of exceptional leadership, they did something to change the course of their lives, so that the end of their life was one of shame or disgrace.
In my case, the first part of my life was one of shame. But God is so patient, and he finally got through my head with his lavish grace. He finally got me to see the foolishness of my choices and priorities.
And life since has been different.
So now, I'm retired. But I'm not retired. I'm very busy being God's "job-site manager" in the business of redemption and of showing the grace of Jesus to those who don't yet understand.
And it's a great life. It's truly what it's about to be both older and wiser.
I commend it to you.
I decided to write, I said, because it seems to me that we spend a lot of our time in a wilderness. The place may be spiritual, mental, emotional or relational, but in some important aspect of our lives, we often feel lost. We're wandering who knows where. Perhaps you know what I'm talking about.
But here's the problem that sparked my paper: Most of us don't have a "theology of the wilderness." That is, we don't have anything in our concept of God and our relationship with him, or our beliefs about the world and our place in it, to help us understand and benefit from hard times, times when it seems that everything is going wrong. Without that basic framework, we look at the troubling times far differently, and too often, instead of growing, we become embittered, feeling abandoned.
This should not be. Our lives have too much pain and too many hard places to waste. Nor do we want to let hard times control our life. If we are going to hurt, why hurt for nothing? Why not benefit from the pain? Pointless pain is intolerable. Pain for a purpose is more than tolerable, it is often willingly accepted.
On this topic, the most obvious wilderness example to consider is the experience of the people of Israel, fresh from Egyptian bondage, no longer slaves. That was good news, certainly. No more beatings, no more abuse. No more living at the whim of an oppressor. No more slaves.
But not free people.
Have you ever considered what happened in their wilderness? I don't mean the obvious things, like the Law and other events at Sinai, or so many people paying with their lives for unbelief. I mean, rather, the process that happened in the Israelite people. Have you considered that?
Again: They were slaves. Then they were rescued, brought out of their slavery. But they were not free people. They were simply not-slaves. And not only were they not-slaves, but they had no memory or imagination of what it meant to be free.
They were rescued from slavery, in that they were brought out from under the oppression of an external power, one that controlled every aspect of their lives. It was a physical rescue.
But to be truly free is not a merely physical process. This is part of the problem of former prisoners, those imprisoned for crimes, who overwhelmingly return to prison after a rapid return to a life of crime. They are physically free. But they need more.
Freedom means learning a new way of thinking, a way of seeing the world that leads to a different decision-making process. Free people do not think like those who are slaves.
Many people in our world, including "free" Americans, are not free. In most cases, they have no visible chains, nor do they have men who are slave masters, carrying whips. But they are slaves. They don't think like free people. They are bound in various ways in their mind so they are chained to being something far less than they were designed to be. Their life is a caricature of what a full, rich life really is. A cartoon.
The most important "thing" that happened in the wilderness was two: First, the Israelites started learning to think like free men and women. They learned to make appropriate choices and be accountable for their own welfare and success. Second, they learned how to be free in and as a result of an ongoing relationship with God. The two are inseparable. We cannot be free independent of God, because we are created as dependent beings. So if we would be truly free, if we would think and act and decide as free men and women, our freedom must be found in God, through Jesus.
It's important to point out again that we have a choice in these matters. As important as what happened in the Israelite people in the wilderness is, the fact is that a great many of them did not enter into that process, and as a result of their choice, they died in the desert. We are not forced to grow. Ever.
So what are some of these "chains" we wear, things that hold us back?
Self Image
A common chain is our own idea of who we are, our self image. The way we see ourselves is a major factor in the way we interact with the world and with God. Do we subscribe to "worm theology," the idea that I'm just some worm, unworthy of God's notice? Many do. A good question to ask ourselves is, "Does God like me?" We might ask whether God loves us, and the answer is nearly always an automatic yes. But if we change the question from love to like, the answer is very often, "No, I don't think so." Of course, that's not a biblical answer. God delights in his people. The answer is a reflection of our own unhappiness with the person we see in the mirror. We don't like ourselves so we are obviously unlikeable so God obviously doesn't like us so....
Hedonism
Hedonism, being focused on oneself, is a sure guarantee to an empty, unfulfilled life. We cannot live a life focused on ourselves and a life of obedience to God at the same time. We are here - especially if we are followers of Jesus - for others. Our lives should be focused primarily on Jesus, and secondarily on the people Jesus brings into our lives, people who are in need of his grace. Self-centered lives are the ultimate and perhaps worst form of slavery. Children are self-centered. Adults ought not to be.
Materialism
Materialism - getting as much "stuff" as we can - is related to both self-image and hedonism. But to compulsively buy as much as we can, far more than we can possibly need or use, is throwing our life away. We have only time and talent in this life. And everything we buy, we buy with money acquired by trading some of our life - our time and talent - for it. Why would we want to give our life for something that we do not need, and will only end up in the dump? Foolishness. Invest in people, not toys.
Finally, the question to consider is about my priorities. What is really important to me? Is it to have the latest look in clothes? Or the coolest car? The coolest and latest toys? The way we spend our time and money will reliably show what's important to us.
A good question to ask is what do we want someone to write about us after we die? What should be on our tombstone? "He had fun"? These things can determine our priorities in life. It's worth considering how we will be remembered.
And our priorities will determine how we approach building relationships, both with people and with God. And our relationship with God will determine whether we grow or die when we hit the wilderness.
Grow. Don't die. Don't spend your life for nothing.
]]>Did you know there's another kind of innie and outie? Unlike belly buttons, this one is important. It's about how you read the Bible, whether you try to draw truth out of the text (outie) or read your own attitudes and beliefs into the text (innie).
Which are you? Outie is better, but innie is more common by far.
Here's the situation: We read the Bible and interpret what we read - and we all interpret, even the guys who insist "I just believe what the Bible says." But we very often don't read with an open and teachable mind, letting the Holy Spirit and the text speak to us. We don't seek truth no matter where it may lead.
Rather we come as readers who "understand" the text only as it fits into our preconceived ideas and wishes. Quality, honest reading requires that we be outies: we let the text speak to us, no matter what it says. If we hope to know God and his word, we cannot come as innies, putting our ideas into the text.
Examples? There are many. We can look at the two common ones that most of us take for granted, and are totally unaware of our bias. First, salvation. Then, the "rapture."
Salvation.
What does "saved" mean to you? If you are like a great many folks, being "saved" means "on your way to heaven." Overwhelmingly, the focus is on what happens after death. It's about some distant day, probably too far away to worry about now. This salvation has little to do with real life, lived here today.
Have you noticed that Jesus never taught much about that? Strange oversight, I think. One would think, considering the importance of it all, that God would have made abundantly certain that message was loud and clear.
But he didn't.
So, will Christians "go to heaven"? Is that what's salvation is about? Will other folks?
As I read scripture, it appears that at least some have and more will "go to heaven." Revelation 4 talks about people present with God in heaven, in the dwelling place of God. But is that the permanent destination for believers, or is it a temporary stop-off? Can we expect to spend forever sitting around, singing to Jesus and playing harps? When we think of heaven, are we even thinking of the same thing the writers of scripture had in mind?
For a number of reasons, I think heaven is not and never will be our "home." I think our permanent destination is a renewed, glorified earth, a global "Garden of Eden." But that requires more space than I have here.
The point is that Jesus taught little about anything resembling what we call "salvation." He taught mostly about the kingdom of God. His emphasis was that the kingdom is here, it is now, and we are in it. No white robes and harps some day in the sweet bye and bye. Biblical salvation is about here and now, not only some future time. There's work to be done in the name of Jesus. Now. And it's our place to do it.
This is important because our concept of salvation colors everything else we read in the New Testament, indeed, every aspect of our life. And the result of this belief is a distortion that all but guarantees we will miss God's intent.
Rapture.
And then there's the rapture. According to this teaching, that's the time when Christians are taken out of this world, up to heaven. Libraries of books have been written about this future event There has been much debate - some intense - about whether the rapture will take us out of this nasty world before, during or after the really hard times.
But what if...? What if we're not going anywhere? Or what if any "departure" in our future is for a visit, not a change of address? What if the verses used to support the rapture (and there aren't many of them) are in fact about Jesus coming to this world, not about us leaving it?
First, when reading scripture, it's hard to find anything supporting the idea that God takes his people out of dangerous or difficult situations. The pattern is that he promises to never leave them or forsake them, as they go through hard times. Christians over much of the world know too well what this means.
What if that's what's coming? Hard times, I mean. It's curious that when Americans talk about a coming tribulation when things will be worse than difficult for followers of Jesus, Christians in much of the rest of the world are puzzled. "You mean it gets harder yet?" They are beaten, imprisoned, killed, raped, robbed and more, for the name of Jesus. Now. And it gets worse? Is that possible?
So what's this rapture thing? And who is going to be taken up to avoid what? The fact that there are so many arguments about it indicates that scripture is not clear. But here's a thought:
In his excellent book, Surprised by Hope, N.T. Wright addresses this question, this idea of our going "up" and meeting Jesus in the air, to be taken to wherever it is we go. Here's what he says about it:
The custom at the time Paul wrote to the Galatian church was for the people of a city to leave the city and head down the road in a great celebration to meet a coming important visitor, such as the governor or even the emperor. And when they met him, they would come together, celebrating his arrival and escorting him back into the city.
Never did they go out, meet the guy, and then turn and go back to wherever the VIP came from. He was coming to them, not vice versa.
How would that historical pattern fit with the second coming of Jesus? What if he's coming here, to live among us, not to take us out of the nasty old world. What if the world we so easily write off, is the same world he plans to restore and glorify? You know, the world God pronounced "very good." And he never seems to have changed his mind.
So, the point of this all is that it's important for us to understand the context of scripture, the historical background, and be open for the Word to speak to us, rather than conforming to our own opinions.
Be an outie. Life is way better that way.
Have you ever been in a situation where you felt miserable? Of course. Everyone has. But did you know not all misery is created equal? Some misery is temporary and moves us toward a goal. That's good. But other misery goes nowhere. It just sits there letting us hurt. Sometimes in this misery, we get into this kind of swamp where we only hurt, and worse, we don't do anything about it. We sit there, suffering, and becoming convinced there's nothing we can do about it. We learn to be helpless.
Not good.
Did you ever hear the principle that whatever we choose as the focus of a situation or relationship will come to dominate? If we have a relationship that is 95% wonderful and 5% problematic, we're actually pretty well off by most standards. But if we focus on the 5%, it will gradually expand in influence until it becomes the dominant factor in the relationship. It will change the entire balance.
The same is true in most of life: If everything's going great except for some small corner, and we begin to focus on that corner, it will grow and come to dominate all the otherwise good things in our life.
So here's the question: Where is our focus? Is it on the many things we cannot control? Or is it on the things, even if few, that we can control?
If we choose - that word again - to focus on what we cannot control, we set ourselves up for discouragement and disappointment, and ultimately, a life of passive despair. We come to see the pain as normal, and we begin to see ourselves as helpless victims. And we are on a short, fast road to a very unhappy life.
But I am a Christian, writing to Christians, so it's appropriate to ask what the Bible says about these things.
Paul had this to say in Philippians 4:8: "Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, dwell on these things."
As we choose to "dwell on these things," we cannot long remain in a pit of discouragement. And as we focus on the presence of God with us, the limits on our power are irrelevant.
Moses asked God, "Who am I, that I should go to Pharaoh, and that I should bring the sons of Israel out of Egypt?"
Notice now God's response: He doesn't really explain or address Moses' question: "Who am I?"
Read on, to God's reply: "Certainly I will be with you, and this shall be the sign to you that it is I who have sent you: When you have brought the people out of Egypt, you shall worship God at this mountain" (Exodus 3:11-12).
Notice that God's response to Moses' doubt about his own competence was simply to say, "I will be with you." Simple. God's presence changes everything.
So when we get into that fine and pleasant misery, the swamp of despair, we should not buy the lie that there's nothing we can do. For us to live as a normal state in that place is not God's intent for us. And there certainly are things in our control, and we need to both focus and act on those things.
We can pray. We can draw close to the One who loves us and never leaves us. We can change thought patterns. We can begin to believe God, rather than the liar who tells us what a loser we are.
We can do a lot. And God honors that and fills the need where we can do isn't enough.
Hallelujah!
]]>It certainly did to me, though bubble-wrap is not a new idea. We all know "bubble wrap," a plastic packing material with small air "pillows" in it. It's used to surround some object to isolate it from what's around it and protect it.
But people? Did you ever think of bubble-wrapped people? Probably not, though they're not uncommon, walking through life securely protected from the evil and pain in the world. I think to an extent, at least in western culture, most people live with some degree of insulation protecting them from whatever they perceive as a threat.
But we don't hurt. At least we think we don't hurt. We quickly become oblivious to the dull ache of emptiness in us. In fact, we are "protected" from living rich lives as fully human beings, as people who reflect the image of their creator. We become emotionally hollow and dead.
These lives are neither deeply satisfying nor do they honor our God.
But there's another aspect of this bubble-wrap problem, perhaps related.
God made us for a purpose. It wasn't like he was sitting around on a slow Friday afternoon, too early to shut down and go home, and he had a little stuff left over from his week of creating. "Hmm... I've got another 5 minutes before quitting time, so I think I'll throw this stuff together and see what I can make from it." And there we were.
Didn't happen.
God is a God of purpose, and he made us for a purpose. A glance at the first couple chapters of Genesis will show that. The initial purpose (never rescinded) was to care for the earth (1:28). But then Jesus added something new and important. Most of the people on this earth didn't and don't know God or anything about him. Jesus came to remedy that, but understood that he was one person living in one small area for a few short years, and that more needed to be done. Much more.
So he called us, the people who would come to know and follow him. And he gave us an instruction above what was given in Genesis: Make disciples. Teach people how to know and follow Jesus, and carry on the purpose that brought him here (Matthew 28:19; John 20:21-23; II Corinthians 5:20).
But there's a problem. Many of us who claim to follow Jesus are bubble-wrapped. We have lives carefully protected from the nasty, evil world. We live in a world populated by people who believe as we do and have little contact with others. Many of us don't even know someone who isn't a "Christian." Our friends all look like us.
There are two main problems with such a life. First, it's just boring. It's self-centered, and it creates a world where everyone is alike.
I am amazed at the difference in my life since I moved into a neighborhood and church that is intensely multicultural. My world now looks a lot more like the kingdom of God. And I have opportunities to bring God's grace into the lives of those who don't know about him. Like the Buddhist friend from Burma who has asked me to fix his computer this afternoon.
Second, an insulated life for a Christian is wrong. It flatly disobeys the command of Jesus to make disciples, and generally is unconcerned about it. We can't make disciples of people we don't know.
I was one of those people for years, and didn't even know it. I lived in white, middle class neighborhoods, attended white, middle class churches, and even worked in places that were fundamentally white, middle class, and "Christian."
Then I was somehow drawn to live in the city and join an urban church. This was no small matter for a country boy from Colorado. But I followed the pull, and was amazed at what I found. There was a world I didn't know existed. People far different from me who also call themselves Christians. And people far different from me who bring unexpected blessing and richness into my life.
But first, I had to be willing to pop the bubbles.
And yet... Is freedom really the result of military action alone? Is there a place in the purpose of this day to remember the true source of freedom? Is there a place to especially honor the one true and living God, without whom there would be no freedom, here or anywhere? Because, truly, the state of the culture of a people is based in the God or god they profess to worship. And only in the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, the God of the Bible is there freedom. And even more, the highest levels of freedom come in those people who truly know Jesus as Lord and Savior, people who, interestingly, dwell in the nations shaped by reformed Protestant Christianity.
Thank you, Father, and thank you, Jesus.
"I know we're going to move away from our friends and faith community, but I'm certain it's God's will, since he opened the door on such a good deal on a house and property in the country."
These are quotes from people who have explained to me why they were doing something that I thought was detrimental to their spiritual welfare. "The door is open, so it must be God's will that I walk through it."
No.
If an open door by itself were a reliable indicator of God's leading, we would have to explain the many "open doors" leading to great temptation and moral compromise. Many have walked through open doors into embezzlement, illicit affairs, and much more. These things certainly are not of God.
But what about more innocent things? Some folks use this reasoning to rationalize what they have already decided to do. But not all. Some are sincerely seeking God's leading. And it's not necessarily wrong to want a business to succeed, or to have a home in the country. It may be wrong if it's done out of selfish motivations, but it isn't always. Nor is it wrong to have a deep longing to serve God.
I have been involved for more than three years with an Asian refugee population where we live. It has been, for the most part, a pleasure. But I have also noticed a spiritual emptiness among many of the people, and have prayed much for God to work among them, to pour out his Spirit on them and bring new life. And I have told God I am willing to be an instrument of that happening, if that is his choice.
Recently, I was approached by the pastor of a church where a number of these folks had settled. Would I come there and work among the refugees, helping to build a ministry and community there for them? "We're delighted they're with us, but we have no idea what to do with them."
My first response was negative. No way. Not at that church. I've tasted that flavor, and didn't like it. Find someone else.
But though I didn't like the idea, I had to consider whether was this God, opening a door to using me to fulfill his purpose for these people? It seemed like a possibility.
I prayed. I asked God for wisdom and discernment. I asked others to pray. And I went to some friends in the refugee community, told them what was being asked of me, and sought their opinion: Should I go or not?
Unanimously, they said to go. They all said they would be happy for me to join them at the church.
So I told the pastor I would, as he requested, visit and see "if God speaks" to me. One time.
I went, with my wife and three Asian friends. None of us liked it. In fact, five of us went, and five of us did not want to return. No neutrality.
So now what? What was God saying? The door was open, but was it God who opened it?
I decided that it was unfair for decide something important based on one exposure. So we went again. And I met with the "ministry staff." And the women's missionary group was told about me. All positive. All excited that I was joining them.
Now, despite my initial response, and my continuing apprehension, I was starting to get a little interested. Maybe this really was God at work. After all, I didn't have to look far to see examples of God moving his people into places of discomfort and difficulty.
So we attended several times a week for perhaps six weeks. Watching. Listening. Praying.
I began to see things that would be problems. Beliefs I didn't agree with. Demands that I teach this or that material.
So now, here I am. Am I hearing God? Perhaps. But what is he saying? Is he saying "This is the place where I want you"? Or is he saying to go elsewhere?
An open door. It certainly seemed like it was open, and still does. But is it God's open door? Or is it a distraction?
It's an important principle: Just because a door is open doesn't mean God opened it. It might be exactly the opposite.
How do we know?
Pray. Pray some more. Ask others to pray, as well. Go slowly. "Follow your peace."
And don't be afraid to say you missed God or misunderstood what he might be saying. Nobody infallibly hears God. Not me. Not you.
And so I wait and I pray. I look at open doors. And I ask God to close the ones that he didn't open.
Incidentally, the businessman from the quote above has totally walked away from God, and is now consumed with his business. The person moving to the country has been there over two years and has found no spiritual home.
]]>A little funny, right? My mother, however, with seven boys, might not have seen the humor. In fact, it's the actual testimony of a young man, given at a church.
While it's admittedly a little extreme - degradation at age five? - it reflects something of a concept of "salvation" that's very common in American churches. It's the "when I die I'm going to heaven but meanwhile just live like everyone else and hope heaven doesn't come too soon" syndrome. It's the idea that the focus of the gospel and our salvation is that some day we will go to "heaven," wherever and whatever that is. And there, we will ... do what? No idea. Our thinking doesn't go that far.
One of the best pictures of "heaven" (what we call God's dwelling place) is in Revelation 4 and 5. There is a wonderful description there of the "throne room" of God. And in that room - which is set in the present, not some vague future time - are angels, people, and even animals, all engaged in worship before the throne of God.
The chapters are wonderful and fascinating. They tell us something about the reality of heaven, the realm of God, as opposed to the heaven that's a product of our imaginations.
But since we're speaking of now, of our present, we might ask, if the traditional concept of heaven is not biblical, then what about salvation? Just what does it mean to be "saved?
Salvation is not a point-in-time event, but rather is a restoration process. That is, it's a process to bring us back to the state for which we were intended. To understand that better, let's look at some scriptures, beginning in the beginning: Genesis. We'll focus on our purpose, or reason for being.
God created Adam, who was created in God's own image. Then God planted a garden or an orchard, and put Adam in it, to care for it. Here it is (Genesis 1:26-28):
Then God said, "Let Us make man in Our image, according to Our likeness; and let them rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over the cattle and over all the earth, and over every creeping thing that creeps on the earth. God created man in His own image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them. God blessed them; and God said to them, "Be fruitful and multiply, and fill the earth, and subdue it; and rule over the fish of the sea and over the birds of the sky and over every living thing that moves on the earth."
The part that interests us most here is in verse 28: "fill the earth and subdue it; and rule over ... every living thing." God created human beings - people like us - with a purpose. They/we were to represent God on this earth, caring for it, maintaining it, and exercising his delegated authority over the rest of creation. We were intended to be God's agents.
But that was then, Old Testament stuff, so let's look at the New Testament, to see if it was a universal responsibility, or one only for Adam and Eve.
First, John 20:19-23:
...Jesus came and stood in their midst and said to them, "Peace be with you." ...The disciples then rejoiced when they saw the Lord. So Jesus said to them again, "Peace be with you; as the Father has sent Me, I also send you." And when He had said this, He breathed on them and said to them, "Receive the Holy Spirit. If you forgive the sins of any, their sins have been forgiven them; if you retain the sins of any, they have been retained."
Notice three statements. First, as the Father sent Jesus, Jesus sends us. Pretty heavy stuff. But then notice that Jesus breathed on his followers and told them to receive the Holy Spirit. Jesus fulfilled the will of the Father by the power of the Holy Spirit. We fulfill the will of Jesus by that same Holy Spirit. Without the Spirit, we cannot be and do what the Father intends for us. Then note, last, the final statement: forgiving and retaining sins.
This is very important. Jesus got in trouble when he forgave people's sins. Why? Because only God can do that. Nobody else. And so God is in effect telling us that we have the authority and responsibility to act on his behalf, using authority that he delegates to us.
Second, II Corinthians 5:17-20:
Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come.
Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation.
Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.
So now, we have seen the Genesis charge to care for that portion of creation we encounter on this earth, acting as God's agents in his creation. And we have seen Jesus saying he was sending his followers as the Father sent him, and telling them they would act in the place of and with the authority of God.
Then, through Paul, we see again that we represent God on this earth - ambassadors for Jesus - and that the message, the word of reconciliation, has been given to us, as though God were making his appeal through us.
This is a far larger picture than "someday, when I die, I'll go to heaven." Salvation is not only a "some day," future event. Salvation is also, even more, a here and now event, doing the work with which we have been entrusted, which is making Jesus alive and present in our world, and bringing to a greater fullness the kingdom of God.
And that's living the life for which we were intended. Hallelujah!
Then he said to Him, "If Your presence does not go with us, do not lead us up from here. For how then can it be known that I have found favor in Your sight, I and Your people? Is it not by Your going with us, so that we, I and Your people, may be distinguished from all the other people who are upon the face of the earth?" (v. 15-16 NASB)
So how did folks know that God was with Israel? It certainly wasn't because they were just all-around nice guys. They were anything but. In fact, too often they were a pain in the divine butt.
Nor was it because they and others got some sort of nice, warm feeling inside. The truth is, those who encountered God often felt anything but nice and warm inside. They were more likely terrified.
Here's the bottom line: It was evident that God was there because there were visible, obvious differences, and the differences were only partially in the people. When God was present, the world was different. When God was present, things changed.
I have been thinking this after a visit to a church where I had never been, but had been asked to come. I took some friends with me and we visited the main Sunday morning service. The "contemporary" one.
I came with some questions, such as, "Is this a place where God might use me and where my friends would be accepted and grow in their faith?" And, "Is this a place where people expect to see the hand of God present and at work among them?" The two are not unrelated.
I came away without a sure answer. On the one hand, God can use me - or you - anywhere. And people can grow anywhere. But in some places the probability is much greater than in others. Not all soil is good soil.
So was God there? Well, I am hesitant to say he absolutely was not. I think that's presumptuous, and it claims that I have total knowledge. However, the signs of his presence were hard to see.
The sanctuary was less than half full, in a fairly large and long-established church for the main service of the day. Not good. The music was notable for the total lack of expression or animation in the musicians. The vocalists looked like mannequins holding microphones. Not good. The demographics of the congregation were not encouraging. A great many of those in attendance at this - the "contemporary" service, for the young people - were long past being young. Not good.
In many aspects, I saw indications of a willingness to accept things not done well.
The service was a traditionally organized one, and it reflected little thought for the purpose of the gathering or who would be in attendance. The sermon was exclusively about how and why to be "saved," followed by an invitation to come to the front and be "saved."
That made me ask myself what percentage of the audience was comprised of followers of Jesus, or at least "saved" people. Were most just flat-out pagans? Because that's who the message was aimed at.
Was God present and working in that place? If he was, it was not evident to me, or to my friends, who said they were not interested in coming back.
A different question concerns whether God calling me to that place, whether I saw him there or not. Was it God who invited me to come there? I don't know.
I ask myself what are the possible reasons God might want me there. I cannot, of course, know them all, but some that occur to me are not dependent on the church being a dynamic place, tingling with the presence and work of the Holy Spirit. In fact, it might just be that a "dead" place is a place where God wants to do something, and he wants to use me as a part of that.
I don't know, but it's something to be considered.
I often come back to Paul's words to the church in Corinth (1 Corinthians 4:20) that the kingdom of God is not merely words but power. And as I wander - both aimlessly and purposefully - I look for evidence of God's power at work. If I don't see it, then the questions I want to address are much different.
This weekend I in fact attended "worship" services at two different churches. One, only 8 years old, was packed out (a fairly large facility) for four very enthusiastic services. The other, many multiples of that age, was less than half full of nice, but largely unengaged people.
So where would God have me be a part? I'm not sure. It could be either one. Or it could be both. In one I would receive and recharge my spiritual batteries. In the other I would give and charge the batteries of others.
Only God knows. But it's certain that he will make his will known to me.
I'll let you know.
]]>I have been thinking for a long time about this, mostly from wanting to be on solid ground if I publicly identify myself as a Christian. I want to be consistent. And the outcome for me is that the word means little, and even has some strong negative connotations, as well. So I prefer not to use it for myself.
I have been watching different groups I have encountered who call themselves Christians. Some are from other countries and cultures. And - if this were a scientific experiment, which it is not - conveniently bring along a control group. Alongside the professing Christian population in some of these groups are others from the same culture who are from other traditions: Buddhists, Muslims and more. Still other groups include the members of a local church. In the latter, a woman once told me that "every person who is in regular attendance at this church is a Christian." Oh? A young woman, a single mom struggling financially, needed legal advice. She went to one of the pillars of said church, a woman lawyer, and asked for help. The reply? "Honey, you couldn't even begin to afford me." A Christian response?
So what's the answer? Does saying it's so make it so? Is everyone a Christian who claims to be a Christian? I will argue that we can call ourselves anything we choose, but our saying it has absolutely no bearing on the truth of the claim. Neither does regular attendance at a church service mean anything. We can live in the church building, and be unsaved. Someone said, "Going to a church doesn't make you a Christian any more than going to a garage makes you a car."
As the "proof of the pudding is in the eating," the proof of the claim to Christianity is in the living. How do we live? How do we treat others? Not just others we like and approve of, but how do we treat those we dislike or consider in some way beneath us?
Jesus said the world would know we are his disciples by the love we have for each other, the same love he has for us (John 13:34, 35). When we are self-righteous or judgmental, we have no credibility with the world, and perhaps not with God, either.
What about feuds and grudges among us? Do we forgive each other? Do we forgive even those we consider unworthy of our forgiveness?
A very disturbing statement in the gospels has Jesus telling us that we have to forgive each other. That if we don't forgive others, he said, the Father will not forgive us (Matthew 6:14, 15).
Wow.
That stops me cold, because, you see, I am one of the "bad people." I am one of the sinners of the world. I shudder to think of all the reprehensible things I have done in my life. I desperately need God's forgiveness. Without it, I am utterly lost. I have no hope.
And so I must forgive. I must forgive totally and generously, as the Father forgives me.
Because the sinners of the world and the bad people we know are precisely those for whom Jesus came. They are the ones he hung out with and for whom he gave his life.
And those who are "good people," who are happy with what they see in the mirror, apparently don't need a savior. The fact is, Jesus didn't come to good people, but to the ones who just couldn't get it right in life. The screw-ups. The losers.
The good folks, the anointed few, seem to be left out, from what Jesus seemed to be saying. He didn't come for the well, but the sick, right? (Matthew 9:12)
So, those who refuse to forgive, who sit in judgment of others, and who are satisfied with their own righteousness, should remember one thing: You cannot live that way and be a follower of Jesus. You can't have those attitudes and know Jesus and truthfully take for yourself the name Christian. You can't live in blatant disobedience and hope to have God's blessing.
It's good to consider the parable of the prodigal son (Luke 15), and ask ourselves which son we would be? Because the parable is about us: you and me.
Is a Christian one illustrated by the younger son, the runaway? Or is a Christian more like the elder son, the one who always did his duty and never challenged the father?
Which am I? Which are you?