Sunday, December 16, 2007

Blizzard

[a little something a wrote a couple years ago that I was reminded of this week]


:: It's snowing this morning. It will be all day, I'm told... Blizzard conditions. Sunday is usually one of my busiest days; but not today. A blizzard tends to slow things down. Everything that I would have occupied myself with has been canceled... a storm-mandated Sabbath.

Might a blizzard have something to tell us? To a world addicted to business and identities rooted in what we do, a blizzard whispers, 'Stop. Business has been canceled. You'll have to find something else to define you today.'

Falling snow creates an eerie kind of quiet. Everything is muffled. Solid surfaces no longer respond to the stimulus of sound the way we expect them to. Inside our caves of wood and glass, we watch the snow bury our plans for the day and we feel the adrenaline of expectation drain from our systems. What we feel at this moment is telling... is it peace? Or panic?

Sometimes I honestly think that people drive off the road during a snow storm just to keep their high. 'No, this meeting can't wait. I'll have to risk it.' 'We need a movie... can't just sit around and stare at each other all day.''We should have gotten groceries yesterday... just didn't have the time.'... We'll stick our fingers in our ears and hum just to keep the quiet out. If I can drive off the road in the process; even better... The hassle and frustration of crashing just to keep the adrenaline flowing.

The blizzard says, 'Stop.' I will not be defined by what I do or produce today. I will realize how small I am, and find peace in that. I will remember those who do not have the luxury of thinking they can define themselves by their career, and those who lack walls of wood and glass to hide behind or escape from, and I will pray. I will read a book. I will listen for God in the quiet...

... Or maybe I'll go for a drive.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

surrender.

A quote from a community that I dearly love... as I ponder some things.

Context HERE. (New Exodus)

"...Today, Egypt can be seen as a picture of what we're all born into. We're all born into oppression by sin. We're born with a sinful nature that pulls us, distorts things and takes us in directions that are destructive to us. Every single human being is born into bondage to sin. God wants to liberate us from sin, and he has a plan to do this. (*) In the same way that the Jewish people were called by God to use their wealth and influence to bless those who need it most, so God has called the Church to do the same, to be his flesh and blood - his body - in the world, so the Church is called the Body of Christ. When we begin to use our resources, energy and power to preserve our own comfort and empire, we are sinning. Eventually, our sin will cause us to lose our power, wealth and influence. And God's plan for blessing the world will be lost for a time.

The reason we study the Exodus is because we want to understand who Jesus is and what he's doing. He wants to liberate the world from physical, spiritual and cultural bondage. Most of us have been given great wealth, talent and energy. And God wants us to share it with others who don't have enough. What if the Church began to understand that God wants to fix this entire planet?"

http://www.marshill.org/believe/newexodus/today.php

--

"We're born with a sinful nature that pulls us, distorts things and takes us in directions that are destructive to us. Every single human being is born into bondage to sin. God wants to liberate us from sin, and he has a plan to do this."

* The question is... what? They want to make a leap here from the problem of sin to the role of the Church in the world; to how we use our power. What this misses is the reality that, in order for us to take part in this great Mission of God; the living out of the Gospel, there must first be a fundamental shift in our own, personal rebellion and self destruction... a reckoning, a repentance, an acceptance of the invitation of Jesus and a fundamental change of allegiance.

Unless I come to this moment of profound surrender and acceptance of that reconciliation made freely available in Christ; through his life, death and resurrection, I will never be able to fully enter into what God is seeking to do in the world. I may be attracted and converted to a compelling community, because the truth is, when the Gospel is actually lived out it looks very compelling. But, at the end of the day, standing near the table and appreciating the smell of the food is not the same thing as joining in the feast.

This is indeed a journey… but a journey with points of arrival; perhaps the most significant of which is that moment when I, compelled by the gospel and moved by the invitation to join in it, say ‘Yes… Jesus, I (personally) want what you have to offer. Free me. Heal me. Use me.’

This, of course, will find its context and be fleshed out in community. But it is MY will that I must surrender. I am a rebel who must lay down MY arms. Until this happens, we cannot move forward.

What I find here in this cross-section of Mars Hill is a beautiful picture of what the Gospel ought to look like when it comes to fruition… but, as it stands, it is a chain with a missing link. It's the mystery of the missing atonement. It troubles me... if for no other reason that (albeit from a distance) these are people that I have come to love.



:: Side note (from a brief conversation last night)... If, in the end, 'every knee will bow' (in a positive sense), free will essentially has essentially been tossed aside. It seems to me that God has consistently refused to do this. He holds humanity in much too high a regard.

Saturday, November 10, 2007

Willow Creek Repents?

http://blog.christianitytoday.com/outofur/archives/2007/10/willow_creek_re.html#more

Interesting... The article, the comments... The potential implications for mainstream evangelicism... Worth a read, anyway.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

John 15:1-17

+ So, here's the thing: there's a lot of ways that seem right to a man... A lot of paths that look like salvation - wholeness, healing, and everything you were meant to be - but at the end of the day, they're nothing but empty promises

Dead-ends and Dry wells.

I'm the true vine; the real source, the wellspring of life and love and song that you've been built for. I'm the voice... when all you've heard up 'till now has been the echo.

Remain in me. Send down your roots and drink deeply in this soil. Remain in me - A branch, once cleft, finding itself grafted, reunited, reinvigorated - amazingly and undeniably alive... Alive again.

Remain in me. Outside this vine is death; dryness, disconnection and discarded things - lit up, perhaps, for a moment... a flash of light, a moment of warmth, and then nothing but ashes.

Will you waste yourself; spent in every direction but life? My father knows something about productive sacrifice.

When he bids a person come, he bids them come and... die?

At the hand of the gardener... death for life; surrender for freedom - sacrificing those things that do not matter for that which truly does.

Remain in me... bear my fruit. From the overflow of what I would pour into you, may you flood this place with love and life. Connect the hose, turn on the tap... and see what happens.

Broken open and poured out - I will do this for you. And, as the father sends me, so I send you.

My life for you, and yours for this world.

Because that's love. This is love.
Because that's love. THIS is love.

Friends, may you love one another.

Honor, Shame, Aliens, Philippians, and me.

“’Let’s say I was an alien and I had to go back to my home planet and explain to some head-of the-aliens guy about what people on this planet were like.’ I told Grant that I would say to the head alien, ‘The thing that defines human personalities is that they are constantly comparing themselves to one another… Humans, as a species, are constantly, and in every way, comparing themselves to one another, which, given the brief nature of their existence, seems an oddity, and, for that matter, a waste. Nevertheless, this is the driving influence behind every human’s social development, their emotional health and sense of joy, and, sadly, their greatest tragedies. It is as though something that helped them function and live well has gone missing, and they are pining for that missing thing in all sorts of odd methods, none of which are working. The greater tragedy is that very few people understand they have the disease. This seems strange as well, because it is obvious. To be sure, it is killing them, and yet sustaining their social and economic systems. They are an entirely beautiful people with a terrible problem.’”

– Don Miller, ‘Searching for God Knows What’

:: Why is it that when somebody cuts me off in traffic, steps in ahead of me in line, or otherwise fails to pay me what I feel is my due acknowledgement, I take such great offence? What is it in me that triggers that rage; that redness of face, that coldness of stare and that predictable surge of barely restrained profanity? On the surface, it hardly makes sense. Whatever the motivation of such an offender, the pragmatic reality is that this intrusion actually costs me very little; a few minutes of my time, at the very most.

But the deepest truths are rarely pragmatic. These seconds or minutes cost me by another’s disregard are not an attack on my schedule. No, an intrusion of that sort I might be able to simply let pass. As valuable as it is, it is not my time that had been taken from me; if I am able to look deep enough it is, in fact, my identity and my worth that I feel are at risk.

In our post-modern, American culture, we like to think that identity is something that simply flows from inside of a person and is communicated to the rest of the world through whatever vehicle they may choose to express it. Individualism dictates that identity and worth have no greater source than one’s self. Our identity - who we are - cannot be handed to us by anyone or anything. And, for that matter, it cannot be taken away.

While most people would claim to believe this, however, we simply do not live as if it is true. In every instance of offence or disrespect, we feel and respond as if this intrusion has actually cost us something deeply significant. We behave as if our very justification for existence is on the line. While individualism can do very little to explain this visceral reality apart from an appeal to some latent hangover of a long irrelevant survival instinct, there is another possibility.

What if, despite what one might expect, human beings were actually wired to receive their identity from an outside source? What if, somewhere along the way, we had lost our connection with that source? And what if, as a result, we now find ourselves trying to establish our own sense of worth and value? What if we now found ourselves in the midst of a deep and continual struggle to justify our own existence and imbue ourselves with a sense of significance?

Should such a thing be true, the nearest outside source available to replace that from which we had been disconnected would be each other. It would be totally natural for a totem-pole system of comparative values to emerge, where my worth is determined by how many people are beneath me in the applicable social strata. Affirmation, achievement, social and economic success, association with those more highly regarded than I; all these would be desirable and a means of filling that felt void of sustainable value.

In such an economy, disrespect or improper association could quickly cost a person their place; inevitably decreasing their worth. In many ways, this would feel like a fate worse than death; something to be avoided at all costs.

This is, of course, precisely the scenario spelled out by the narrative that we find in scripture. The author of Genesis tells us of a rebellion in which we walked away from God - in the tragic irony of a leaf declaring independence from its vine - and in this, lost our connection with our source. Enter insecurity, shame, relational brokenness and death. Enter a totem-pole world.

:: Honor and Shame in the 1st Century

While we, as 21st century Americans, tend to try and live as if this were not the case – convincing ourselves that we alone determine who we are in the world- and so thinly veil the totem-pole realities of our own nature, the Greco-Roman culture of first century Palestine was in many ways more honest. As explored in the article ‘Honor and Shame’, the social dynamic of this culture was structured almost explicitly around the felt reality of comparative values. A life of honor and esteem was considered to be the highest end, while dishonor was to be feared more then death. A challenge could not be left unanswered, and a gift could not be received without a more extravagant gift offered in return. This dynamic was the understood and accepted paradigm for the social economy of the day.

When we read the New Testament in this light, particularly the pastoral letters of Paul, we see certain things come to the surface that we may not have otherwise noticed. Even in the teachings of Jesus himself in the gospels, we see this dynamic play itself out. Take the discourse in Luke 14, for example, where Jesus addresses the propensity of people to seek out the seats of greatest honor at public celebrations. He goes on to tell his disciples that when they throw a party, they ought not invite their friends at all – who would then be socially obligated to outdo the invitation of their host at a subsequent event, and so pay them back – but to invite those of no social value whatsoever; people who could have no hope of returning the favor or boosting the hosts social clout.

In the course of his life and ministry, Jesus in fact continually engages this accepted system of value with a frustrating subversion. Again and again he refused to play by the rules. He subjected himself to shame by the people who he chose to associate with. He did things entirely unbecoming his station in that society. His stories contained images of people who displayed a willful ignorance of the social graces one would employ to climb the ladder of clout and honor. In a religious context, the priests and teachers of the law were the gatekeepers to the upper echelons of honor; Jesus repeatedly failed to pay them the respect that they felt they were due, and instead called their entire system into question as he proposed to open the access to God to the whole world through himself.

This was a blasphemy deserving of death in their opinion, not only on the basis of the role that Jesus was claiming for himself, but also because the kinds of people whom the life and teachings of Jesus implied that God himself would dwell among was absolutely… shameful. In a culture that, at its very core, assumed that value and honor were things that could be gained and lost on the basis of acquaintance, it would make sense that, subconsciously, people might assume this same dynamic applied even to God. The implicit thought would be that for God to allow himself to fellowship with the undeserving and the unclean would somehow make him less… God. This was serious blasphemy indeed.

When we turn to Paul’s letter to the Philippians, we find it ripe with these cultural undertones and implications. Paul is attempting to explain to a people who live in the midst of a totem pole society how to find honor in following a savior who, in the eyes of the world, chose the route of shame and invited us to walk in his footsteps; in both his life and death. When we realize this context, we can appreciate the pastoral challenge before Paul as he seeks to disciple and grow this church in Philippi.

:: The Letter to the Philippians

+ Paul’s Chains Advance the Gospel

This Honor and Shame dynamic is thrown into striking relief by the fact that this is a letter written to a church by an apostle who finds himself, at the time of his writing, in chains. For all intents and purposes, they are being asked to accept life instruction from a known convict. After his introductions, Paul wastes no time in naming the ‘elephant in the room’, per se. Starting in verse 12 of chapter 1, he writes this:

“Now I want you to know, brothers and sisters, that what has happened to me has actually served to advance the gospel. As a result, it has become clear to the whole palace guard and to everyone else that I am in chains for Christ.”

Given the context, it is fairly evident that the undertone that Paul is striking here is one of, ‘I know this looks like shame, but the purposes of God are actually being accomplished in it’. And this will carry throughout the entire letter, including the framework for his presentation of the gospel itself. It is interesting to note that Paul adopts the accepted language for honor/shame dynamics, all while arguing that this system of value is essentially no longer valid in Jesus. In verse 20, he writes; ‘I eagerly expect and hope that I will in no way be ashamed, but will have sufficient courage…’. It is fascinating to consider how this would have been read by those who first received it.

+ Life Worthy of the Gospel

“Whatever happens, as citizens of heaven live in a manner worthy of the gospel of Christ... For it has been granted to you on behalf of Christ not only to believe on him, but also to suffer for him… ” 1:27-29

Paul’s experience has been that the disciples of Christ in his day were often met with persecution and social disgrace by Jewish and Roman cultural contexts which either did not understand them or hated them for their allegiance to Jesus. He prepares this Church for what will be, inevitably, a very difficult struggle as they find themselves cut loose from the social standings that had long supported their sense of worth and dignity, and he does so by reminding them that their true source of value, and their true citizenship, lies in heaven. Because of this, no abuse or disgrace they receive for the gospel can take anything away from them. On the contrary, to be shamed for the sake of gospel may truly be considered the greatest honor. He challenges them with the question of what their lives will be considered ‘worthy’ in light of: the jury of their peers, or God himself?

+ Imitating the Humility of Christ

The crux of Paul’s argument for the reversal of the accepted paradigm of honor is found in chapter 2, verses 1-11, with his exposition of the life and ministry of Jesus himself through the lens of honor and shame. Paul here explores the paradox and encouragement of proclaiming a crucified savior. Despite what many may say, it is unlikely that crucifixion is the most painful way that the Romans knew to dispatch a person. I feel that that honor may be reserved for living torches or being cooked alive in boiling oil. No, crucifixion, while agonizing, was not the perfection of pain; it was the perfection of shame. To hang, naked and bleeding, perhaps for days, beside a busy interchange as a spectacle and example of what happens to those who oppose the empire; this was about more than destroying a body – it was about destroying a person; their name, their reputation, and their following. This is why Paul, speaking of the humility of Christ, exclaims that he subjected himself to death – ‘even death on a cross!’ v.8.

Kings were not expected to be known for their humility; they were known for their glory and power. Paul expounds on the idea that the glory of Jesus - one even with God himself – was made even more significant by the fact that he did not feel the need or entertain the temptation to hold that glory over his people, but rather took the place of a servant; faithful even unto death in shame and ignominy for the sake of those who he came to save. With this as our paradigm of faithfulness, our own self-aggrandizement seems nothing short of profane, and Paul uses this picture of Jesus to explain the new economy of value that God invites us into through the sacrifice of his son.

+ Do Everything Without Grumbling

In 2:12-18 Paul follows that which we have just discussed to its logical and practical conclusion in the context of Christian community. That is, we ought not be concerned about receiving our due, or complain that the tasks we are called into are not fitting our place in society, but rather, in response to the self-giving and humility of Jesus, to serve one-another without grumbling. In this, Paul implies, real value and real glory are found; as we reflect the character of God back to him.

+ No Confidence in the Flesh

Paul winds down his apologetic for shame in chapter 3 by turning the spotlight on his own experience; a man whose resume and associations demand an honor and place in society that would have been enviable. In light of this Jesus, he claims, ‘Whatever were gains for me I now consider a loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them garbage, that I may gain Christ and be found in him…’ v.7-9

The word, translated here as ‘garbage’, could actually be read much more strongly. The Greek ‘skubalon’ could also be translated ‘filth, lumps of manure or human excrement; the portion of food rejected by the body as unnourishing…’ (Rogers & Rogers, 1998). Essentially, Paul resorts to profanity here to describe how he has come to feel about what could have been his substantial societal worth based on his own merits. In light of Jesus, all that he may come to suffer, whatever shame may be heaped upon him for the sake of the gospel; these things are worth more than any honor or value the world can offer him. To the Philippian church, this is placed before them as an exhortation and challenge to live the path of descent in the footsteps of Jesus in the face of a society that will undoubtedly look upon this as foolishness and disgrace; as, in fact, a fate worse than death. But this death, scripture claims, is in fact the path to real, abundant life.

:: My Experience

Thinking of my own church experience in light of these ideas, it becomes obvious to me that the ways we interact with each other in community are largely rooted in our sense of individual security, identity and worth. The legacy of the Fall is that of a people, disconnected from our source, who are dying to justify our own existence and value in the world. In this, we find ourselves working out of an economy of scarcity, where to ‘consider others better than ourselves’ is actually a threat to our very survival, and so avoided at all costs. If we fail to respond to Jesus’ call out of this state of being into the reconnection with God the father made possible by his journey into the depths of earthly shame on our account, real selflessness, service, and Christian unity is not possible.

We see it played out in the church in the same ways we see it played out all around us everyday. If I fail to name and surrender that piece of my own brokenness that compels me to respond profanely to being cut off in traffic, in the long run I will not coexist any more effectively within the confines of the sacred community. I may mask it for some time in the name of being peaceable, but eventually this root insecurity will make itself known. Power struggles, grudges, an inability to forgive, the inability to accept constructive criticism; all flowing from our unconscious feeling that we leak value and worth. The same dynamics that were explicitly in play in the honor and shame-based culture of the 1st century still effect us today, although in somewhat more subtle, and therefore less easily recognizable, ways.

In Jesus, we find ourselves called beyond this economy of scarcity. Jesus invites us to rediscover our identity and security as it flows from the God who created us as his image-bearers and pours out his sacrificial love for us. Freed, then, from the felt necessity of self-aggrandizement and fear of devaluation, we will finally be able to serve each other in the manner we are called to in Christ Jesus; for his glory, in his strength, and for his purposes in the world.

-----

Don Miller, “Searching for God Knows What”, Nelson Books, Nashville TN, 2004

Rogers and Rogers, “The New Linguistic and Exegetical Key to the Greek New Testament”, Zondervan, Grand Rapids, MI, 1998

Friday, October 12, 2007

mind matters

"One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, "Of all the commandments, which is the most important?"

"The most important one," answered Jesus, "is this: 'Hear, O Israel, the Lord our God, the Lord is one.[e] Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.'[f] The second is this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'[g]There is no commandment greater than these."" - Mark 12:29-31

What does it mean to love God with all your... mind?

This question is central to what, from Jesus' inference by quotation of the Shema in this context, it means to engage in the covenant relationship with God; both for the people of Israel through history and those who would follow him into this new movement that was being birthed before their eyes. And while at a cursory read we may feel that we understand this idea rather satisfactorily enough, there is a deeper question that must be asked first; one which we may feel that we are somewhat less equipped to engage.

That is, before we can properly address what it means to love God with all our mind, we must come to grips with - at some level - what it is that we are really referring to when we speak of 'mind'. What is it, really? What is its nature? What is its function in our lives? Our identities? Our relationships? It is only once we are aware of what we are actually talking about that we can possibly address what it means to subjugate this aspect of ourselves to the will and purposes of God in and for our lives.

It is at this juncture that I stray into the deep end of a philosophical pool in which I can, at best, paddle awkwardly and embarrassingly; really for no one else's benefit but my own and for the simple joy of getting wet. With this in mind, we proceed:

A few thoughts:

+ The mind is our lens… our interpretive eye… It is our consciousness and awareness; of ourselves and our world. It is our vehicle of perception; the means by which observations (from the input of our senses) become information. Aristotle described the mind as ‘the part of the soul by which it knows and understands’. That is to say (I think) that it is the means by which the soul reaches out to KNOW. It is the expression and vehicle of the hearts desire to understand.

+The mind turns stimulus into information and it is the storehouse of that accumulated knowledge and experience.

+The mind is the point of contact between my soul – that which is essentially ‘me’ – and everything else. As such, it is the gatekeeper to our hearts. The mind determines what information, observation and stimulus will stick with us and shape us, and what will simply be discarded. It differentiates between nutrients and waste… determines friend from foe. It is the point at which we decide who or what we allow to shape our experiences, let into our sphere or provide voice to our identity.

On the flip side, the mind is also the conscience for the dialogue of the soul itself; it is the filter between our hearts and our mouths… Between what we feel and how we act. We know this to be the case, because we have all experienced what it is like when we happen to bypass this filter in a moment of impatience or inflamed emotion.

:: In all these respects, the Mind is constantly processing input. It is constantly engaging our environment. And, in the process, it is constantly being shaped.

The question is, as we ponder Jesus' invitation to discipleship of the mind, will we engage this process; will we be intentional, or simply allow it to happen?

A few questions to guide this reflection...

+ First, what do we allow into our minds?

If you were to travel on I-95 through Rhode Island, as I do on a regular basis, you would undoubtedly notice that the section of roadway between exits 14 and 16 has a certain... essence. A presence, if you will. A sensual experience that makes its way into the airspace of your vehicle and proceeds to journey with you for several miles. It's that undeniable smell that lets me know I'm in Cranston.

I guess they have to put wastewater treatment plants somewhere...

Back in the day, these wonderful facilities didn’t exist. Biology being what it is, people of course still had to deal with the byproducts of digestion just as we do today, they just flushed it directly into the bay... or whatever body of water happened to be most convenient. Over time, we gradually realized that this was actually really detrimental to both the environment and our health…So we developed treatment plants sort the *stuff* out of our l'eau de toilette so that what finally passes through into the watershed isn’t (as) harmful.

The question is, how much stuff do we simply allow into our minds without any kind of filter whatsoever? Advertisements, opinions, images… Why is it that we treat our waste water with more prudence than what we allow into our lives? How much of our cultural refuse do we indiscriminately allow to enter and influence us without our even being aware of it?

Perhaps even more tragic are those moments when we are 'prudent' enough - exercise enough of a filter - to recognize that something is shit, and then proceed to consume it anyway. Knowing is... half the battle? Maybe. Pornography, gossip, comments and opinions we simply shouldn't give ear to, conversations that we know we simply shouldn't be having...

Having anti-virus software on your computer is one step... actually turning it on is another. You actually need to activate it in order for it to do any good. So often we engage junk with our defenses, knowingly, down… And then we wonder why the hard drive is non-functional the next day… These things we let in actually start rearranging the place… shaping their host in their own image.


+ Second, what do we allow through our minds?

Are we aware of how our own thoughts shape us? We all know those moments when thoughts just seem to make their way up from the bowels of our soul into the realm of our conscious thought. We run into a person, get into a situation, we're engaged in a simple conversation... and suddenly this voice pops in, saying things we never thought we were capable of saying; reflecting terrible, cutting judgment and a corrupt or belittling spirit. These are moments that make us glad that we have a filter between heart and mouth.

The question is, what do we DO with these thoughts? These things that stem from the depths of our own brokenness… Left to their own devices, these thoughts will cycle through our conscious and back into our hearts, to grow and ferment a little bit more before surfacing again. Do we let them? Do we even perhaps at some level - dare we say- enjoy the beast that hides beneath the surface? Though we'd NEVER give voice to this side of our personality, does it give us a sense of strength to know that the darkness is there? That it COULD be unleashed?

We need to recognize that we do not entertain this company lightly. Let's just call this... sub-letting to the devil. Our thought life WILL shape and color our heart and soul… it will. It does. Toxins don't just hang out in a system... they kill it.

If you have ever seen someone who is suffering from kidney failure, you know this. The waste which their non-functional kidneys are not removing from their blood stream is visible on their face; their complexion literally looks... yellow. When we fail to discipline our own thoughts, we knowingly allow those toxins to stay in the system. This will have consequences. So... do we allow these thoughts to cycle and ferment, or do we grab them, name them, and toss aside those things that do not reflect or produce in us the people that we know we have been created to be? Paul writes:

2 Cor 10:5 : ‘We demolish arguments and every pretension that sets itself up against the knowledge of God, and we take captive every thought to make it obedient to Christ.’

Do we address our own brokenness, or simply acquiesce?


+ Lastly, what do we allow to SHAPE our minds?

In his theory of knowledge, Aristotle states that to ‘Know’ is to have the soul become 'one in form with the object to be known'…This is described as 'isomorphism'.

That is to say that whatever it is that I seek to know; whether that be a tree, rock, or another person, it will require that I come out of myself and enter into the experience of that which I seek to know. I take its shape, allow myself to feel what it feels. I enter into your experience, and allow that to shape... me. That is why it is so profound to feel that we are in the presence of someone who truly knows us. They have, in some way, allowed us to shape them... surrendered a piece of their autonomy in order to understand who we are.

How does this inform what we mean when we say that we are seeking to know… God? How will this journey into HIS experience, HIS heart and character shape us? This gives perspective to Johns words when he saysWhoever does not love does not know God, because God is love.’ (1 Jn 4:8 )

That is to say if we haven’t been SHAPED, it means we don’t KNOW.

Our Minds, and our lives are shaped by what we pursue. What we know will precipitate the expression of who we are. Will this be God, or the inadvertent molding of our minds, and identities, by the forces of our culture? It is in this respect that Paul writes to the Roman church: Do not conform any longer to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God's will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.’ (Romans 12:2)

May we love God with all our mind. May we actively engage our world with genuine, critical awareness. And may we allow that awareness shape us and the lives we live.


Thursday, October 11, 2007

Shocking?

Shocking? No.

Heartbreaking?

'Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on us...' Oh, how we have muddied these waters.

http://www.barna.org/FlexPage.aspx?Page=BarnaUpdate&BarnaUpdateID=280

Anybody?

Sunday, October 7, 2007

sexy

[Genesis 2:4 – 3:10]

At the apex of the creation story that we find in Genesis; at its very heart and point of focus, we find these words:

'The man and his wife were both naked, and they felt no shame.' - Gen 2:25

Having journeyed with the author through his poetic narrative to this point, we come to realize that the nakedness described here runs much deeper than a simple commentary on their lack of clothing. Rather, to mention the comfortable nakedness of these first people is to penetrate the callousness of of own experience and the knee jerk reactions of absurdity and awkwardness we feel at such a mental picture and pull out a profoundly essential, though perhaps deeply latent, longing; the longing for home.

The nakedness of Adam and Eve is a potent visual representation of everything that rebellion has cost us. These are people... undivided. Perfectly connected. To God. To Creation. To each other. To themselves. It is a picture of people who have nothing to hide; the blessed union of identity, self awareness, transparency and relationship.

The Hebrews describe this as 'Shalom'.

Some theologians have described it simply as 'the way it ought to be'.

However you describe it, it is a picture of the world and the relationships that we have been built for. And it is what, over the course of the next chapter of Genesis, we watch ourselves walk away from. As we choose the path of self-sufficiency, self-identity and self-government - in the tragic/comic irony of leaves declaring independence from the vine - we find these relationships broken on every level.

Enter insecurity. Shame. Guilt. Blame. Hiding.

Clothing.

Where there was once perfect relationship, we find ourselves broken, divided and deeply disconnected.

Which, as a backdrop, provides a fascinating lens on human sexuality as we see it play out all around us.

[much of what follows is derived from a teaching by Rob Bell called 'sexy on the inside', which incidentally provides the framework for one chapter in his most recent book, 'Sex God'... which you should buy and read... right now]

:: The english word, 'sex' finds its root in the Latin; 'secare'. Literally, secare means 'to sever, amputate, disconnect from the whole'. It is from this term that we also get words like 'section', 'dissect', etc.

Sex... disconnection. Fascinating.

Through this lens, our ‘Sexuality’ might be understood as our awareness of our disconnection - that separation that finds its origin in the fall - and our desire/search to find reconnection… Perhaps we become consciously aware of our sexuality as the tension between our own disconnection and the kind of relationship that, deep down, our soul tells us we’ve been built for.Perhaps the felt reality of our sexuality is that straining of our whole being for the reclamation of shalom.

This is about so much more than two people fumbling around in the dark… This is about so much more than physical union. In fact, unless we recognize this longing in ourselves - for deep connection and for real relationship - we are apt to allow our understanding of our own sexuality to become, at best, shrunken and, at worst, totally hijacked by the definitions of our culture.

In his book, Bell comments on the irony of sexual expressions that assume that begin and end with the merely physical:

" [these friends] help me understand why the Right Light district in Amsterdam is so sexually repressed. If you have ever walked through this part of the city, where prostitution is legal, you know it can be a bit jarring to have the women in the windows gesturing to you, inviting you to come in and have 'sex' with them.

What is so striking is how unsexual that whole section of the city is. There are lots of people 'having sex' night and day, but that's all it is. There's no connection...

And so in the Red Light district, there's lots of physical interaction and no connection. There's lots of people having lots of physical sex - for some it's their job - and yet it's not a very sexual place at all.

There's even a phrase that people use with a straight face - 'casual sex'. The rationale is often, 'it's just sex.'

Exactly. When it's just sex, then that's all it is. It leaves a person deeply unconnected." p.43


In contrast, Mother Theresa has been described by people who knew her as an extremely sexual (one writer has even used the word 'erotic') person… And she was a virgin her whole life. This was not a ‘repressed’ woman. She had a vibrant, living, sexuality… It was this energy and drive that she channeled into her profound, earth shaking connection with the poorest and most overlooked people on earth.

Our problem is that we have taken one, very small, aspect of sexuality – that of a physical interaction between two people – and have made this the whole conversation… In reality, our sexuality is ALL the ways we strive to reconnect with our world, with each other, and with God.

We may feel that euphoria of connection at a concert, a sporting event, or in corporate worship… Though music, or being immersed in the beauty of creation… In ‘tell-all’ conversations that last all night, or over a casserole at a family reunion… That sense of connection that makes us feel as if, for a moment, the world is as it should be.

On the flip side, we feel that tension and disconnection in our grief over a broken relationship, in news clips that convince us that there is just no way we could ever all get along… When we’re lonely even when we’re surrounded by a group of friends… When we just wish we didn’t have to hide anymore, and wish that people would love us even if they really knew us.

Sex is about connection.

Its about connection... and commitment. One of the biggest lies our culture shoves down our throats is that we can have the meaningful connections we deeply long for without any kind of commitment… Without having anything demanded of us.

Because you see, I want to connect with you; but I want to keep my options open. Because what if you get annoying (or fat, or have bad breath, or a troublesome family, or are generally less interesting than I thought you were initially)? I need to have the freedom to disconnect if this should ever become too hard.

How many female friends do I have that fall into the patterns of live-in boyfriends and indefinite 'engagements' when, if they're feeling honest, they'd admit that all they want is a pair of rings and the assurance that this whole affair is more than a 'test drive'? What is it about commitment that makes us feel whole... or authentically valued?

Beyond dating, the reason so many marriages fail is that so many of us fail to appreciate or realize the beautiful thing about marriage IS the commitment.

It’s when you get past the honeymoon and start to uncover the ugly, broken pieces of each other… and stick it out… and love each other MORE because of it because you’ve connected at a deeper place, having that much less to hide… THAT’s where it gets beautiful. That's where it gets real.

The tragedy is that most people never get to that place, because they were never told to expect that real connection would be costly.

This obviously happens in the context of romantic relationships, but as we've been discussing, this is only a small percentage of our expressed sexuality when it comes to the search for meaningful connection. No, this 'sexual dysfunction' of the failure to commit also plagues us in the context of community. We Christians even have a term for what it looks like:

‘Church-hopping’.

Which by any other name might just sound, appropriately, like an outward expression of our rampant, unhinged consumerism; the cancer of self-regard. It is the perspective that I, as a consumer of religious goods and services have the right to demand everything and sacrifice nothing. The customer is always right.

I have no reason to stay in any community that stretches, demands, or simply isn't hip (or square) enough for me. With no appreciation for commitment or any degree of long-suffering, there's nothing to keep me from hitting the road should this become to difficult. In something that I could describe no better than ecclesiastical masturbation, I'll keep moving until I find a community that shows less resistance to my efforts to create it in my own image.

::The tragedy of this pattern - whether romantically, in the context of community, or otherwise - is that, ultimately, we miss out on the connection that everything in us longs for.

When we refuse to realize that relationship will be costly… When we think that we can cover over our disconnection by simply being attractive enough, drawing enough attention from the right people, by giving ourselves away to anyone who might be interested… or by taking what they have to give…

We reduce ourselves to the sum total of what we can consume and the pleasures we can experience.

We are so much more.

:: Our world would tell us that ‘sexy’ is a fleeting physical reality, attained by a few blessed-born individuals or those who can afford to buy it. It’s something that can be captured in a photo and something that quickly diminishes with age unless we purchase the right supplements and work out enough. Sexy is the number of people you can convince to consume you with their eyes and give nothing back.

Scripture would tell us something different, if we are willing to listen. ‘Sexy’ is a person who is fully present. A person who is letting themselves be healed, made whole, and so able to give themselves away without becoming something less than what they were. Sexy is being deeply connected… Mother Theresa connected. Connected with their creator, with creation, and with who they’ve been created to be. To ‘sexy’ is to be fully, alarmingly, scandalously and infectiously alive. Fully human.

This is the journey Jesus invites us in to.

May we be truly sexy people... In all the ways that matter, and in none of the ways that don't.

Monday, October 1, 2007

The Kingdom of God and the Missional Church

He told them another parable: "The kingdom of heaven is like a mustard seed, which a man took and planted in his field. Though it is the smallest of all your seeds, yet when it grows, it is the largest of garden plants and becomes a tree, so that the birds of the air come and perch in its branches."” – Matthew 13:31-32

:: The Kingdom and the Gospel ::

In the life and ministry of the Jesus we find recorded in scripture, there is no one topic more central to his teaching, invitation, or understanding of his own vocation than that of the Kingdom of God. From his very first recorded words as a rabbi, prophet and teacher, it is this proclamation that we find on his lips; ‘The time has come… The Kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news!’ (Mk 1:15). For Jesus, it was this message of ‘the Kingdom’ that comprised the very context for everything that he would say and do. In the Gospels, it is everywhere. From this observation alone, even a superficial foray into the New Testament would reveal this as an important and central concept. As followers of Jesus now thousands of years removed from this original utterance, then, our struggle is not with the realization that this ‘Kingdom of God’ which Jesus refers to is important; our struggle is rather to understand what, exactly, he meant by it.

And it is this pursuit; the pursuit of real understanding, that will invite us into the story of Jesus himself – in his context and through the ears of his original listeners – rather than merely finding ways to fit Jesus and his message into OUR stories. What would a proclamation of the ‘Kingdom of God’ have meant to a Jewish audience in a 1st century Palestine under Roman occupation? How would this ‘good news’ have resonated with their traditions and expectations? How does this fit within the flow of redemptive history as a continuation or consummation of God’s ongoing relationship with his covenant people? Unless we enter into these questions with some diligence we are sure to miss the significance and calling implicit in that which Jesus is inviting us to ‘repent and believe’ in when he speaks of the Kingdom.

Consideration of the Jewish understanding of history will prove to be especially critical for the purposes of interpreting both Jesus’ view of his own role in redemptive history, as well as his message of the Kingdom. Hebrew tradition divides the unfolding of history into two ages: the ‘present age’, and the ‘age to come’.

The ‘present age’ is defined by the brokenness and conflict that flows from the legacy of rebellion and sin that separated both mankind and creation from their creator. This age is much like a leaf separated from the vine: cut off from its’ source, it is empty, dying, and falling back into chaos. The reign of sin, the symptoms of death, the apparent victory of the enemy; these are the characteristics of what the Jews of Jesus’ day would describe as ‘the present age’. At this point in their collective story as a nation, and as Gods covenant people, the people of Israel would have a heightened awareness and identification with the brokenness and oppression of this age due to their suffering at the hands of the Babylonian Empire. Having lost sight of their calling to be the faithful vehicle of God’s blessing to the whole world, they had been conquered and overrun by a foreign, pagan empire, and taken into captivity in a foreign land.

“By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept when we remembered Zion. There on the poplars we hung our harps… How can we sing the songs of the Lord while in a foreign land?” – Psalm 137:1-4

It was in this context; in this tangible re-visitation of the experiences of their ancestors as captives in Egypt, that we find the seeds of expectation for a “New Exodus”1 – hope for the ushering in of a new age – planted. The Jewish people, knowing the heart of their God for the healing and restoration of his people and his world, expected that the ‘age to come’ would break in suddenly; that, carried by a new ‘son of David – a ‘messiah’, or ‘anointed one’ – a new reign of God would break in to this present age, re-establish the people of Israel, and God himself would once again dwell in the midst of his people in peace and prosperity. They expected that this would be both cataclysmic and beautiful; that the enemies of God would be vanquished and the people of God restored and blessed.

By the time of Jesus, the physical exile in Babylon had largely ended as the Romans established a new empire where the Babylonians had once ruled. The Jewish people had been partially restored to their ancestral lands; Jerusalem and the temple had been rebuilt, though not universally accepted. The sense was that, under Roman occupation now, and in the continued absence of God’s tangible presence, the exile was still very real and the expectation for the in-breaking of the reign of God was still very imminent.

It is absolutely vital that we understand that the expectation of Israel concerning the ‘age to come’ was not that the ‘chosen people’ would be swept away from this world to some disembodied state of eternal bliss; to leave earth behind for heaven. Rather, it was that heaven would be BROUGHT to earth. That God would come and dwell with his people. That expected cataclysm of the in-breaking ‘age to come’ was not an escapist dream; it anticipated a collision of realms – heaven and earth – brought back together again.

To clarify yet further, it is also important to recognize that the Jewish understanding of ‘heaven’ was not primarily geographical; heaven was not a location somewhere on the other side of the universe where God dwelt amongst the clouds. (This idea reveals the echoes of Greek mythology that have crept into our own thinking.) No, in the understanding of Jesus’ contemporaries, heaven was not a physical location; it was understood as the realm where God’s will was done. This realm, because of our sin and for our sake, was separated from our own experience by a sort of ‘veil’ (echoes of this idea found in Lam 3, Ez 13, 2 Cor. 3). It was understood that there were places where this ‘veil’ was thinner than others; places where heaven and earth were closer together – most notably, the temple. One day, it was believed that this veil would be lifted – that heaven and earth would come together fully – and that this would either mean judgment or glorification, depending on how one had oriented oneself toward this day.

Here, we can begin to understand Paul’s statement in 1 Corinthians 13; ‘Now we see but a poor reflection, as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face.’ This ‘age to come’ would be both beautiful and terrifying, and it would come suddenly.

I explore all of this simply to illustrate how Jesus’ hearers would have interpreted this proclamation of ‘the Kingdom of God’ through the lens of the expected ‘age to come’. Heaven was, for them, the place where Gods will was done. To proclaim that the ‘kingdom of Heaven/God’ was at hand was to say that the realm of God’s consummate will was breaking through into our reality. The age to come was breaking in. Heaven was touching down.

So, Heaven is the realm where Gods will is done perfectly. The ‘Kingdom of God’, proclaimed as good news by Jesus and his disciples, is a description of that state being made reality here on earth. When Jesus teaches his disciples how to pray, his prayer hinges upon the request of God that ‘Your kingdom come, your will be done; on earth as it is in heaven.’ (Mt. 6:9) All that I have tried to say in this essay thus far has already been said, more efficiently and eloquently, by Jesus himself in the Lords Prayer. The Kingdom is about seeing God’s will being done, on earth as it is in heaven. It is about participating with God in the in-breaking of his reign into our reality. It is, quite simply, the act of bringing heaven to earth. This is the ‘good news’ that the gospels proclaim and call us to live into.


:: The ‘Missional Church’ ::

In John chapter 20 we find Jesus, having risen from the dead, appearing to his disciples. Behind the locked doors where they were hiding he appears in their midst, showing them the wounds of crucifixion on his hands and his side. Then, he says something incredibly disturbing:

‘As the Father has sent me, I am sending you.’ (Jn 20:21)

On the surface, this may not strike us as earth shattering. That is, until we realize that Jesus says this while holding his hands out to them in order to help them understand what this ‘sending’ means. Jesus was sent to be broken and poured out for the healing and restoration of the world. It would seem that, if we are to be followers of Jesus today, our own sending might look much the same.

You see, Jesus’ contemporaries were right to expect that the in-breaking of Gods kingdom would be a sudden, earth-shattering thing. What they did not expect, however, was a suffering servant and a sacrificial lamb. In their search for a political messiah and a nationalistic revolution, they missed the whisper in the longing for an earthquake. No, the long-awaited in-breaking of the ‘age to come’ didn’t drop in like an atom bomb; it hit the ground like a mustard seed. It died, cracked open, and that’s when things started to get interesting.

If there is one thing that the story of scripture tells about the character of this God with whom we are dealing, it is that He is frustratingly… organic. Rather than working above, beyond, or outside of his beloved, broken, groaning creation, God has consistently chosen to pursue his purposes in and through human history. God chooses to work in and through… us. He always has. And so when Jesus looks his disciples in the eyes and tells them that he is sending them to their deaths, we ought not be surprised. For, ‘Unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.” (Jn 12:24) This was the path marked out by Jesus himself, and Paul did not refer to the Church as the ‘Body of Christ’ lightly. Rather, to follow Jesus in participating in the in-breaking of the Kingdom will mean that we, and our communities, will be broken open and poured out for the healing of our world. Spent for the good of our neighbors, our cities; even our enemies. Living Eucharists. 2

So what, we may ask, does it mean to be a ‘Missional Church’? If we were to simply dissect the term itself, we could reasonably say that it refers to a community of people, living as the body – the hands and feet – of Christ, committed to seeing Gods purposes – His will, or ‘mission’ – accomplished here on earth. People, being changed and healed by the work of Jesus in them, who offer their lives to him for the purpose of seeing Heaven itself brought to earth; making the in-breaking of Gods reign a tangible reality in and through the people and communities that God has created them to be. It is not enough to simply claim de facto membership in the ‘Body of Christ’ if we have no intention of using that body the way Christ himself did, or taking that body the places that Christ himself would go. We must realize that, as followers of Jesus, our identity is inseparable from our purpose; our mission.

For ours is a movement and a legacy of mustard seed monuments. Small seeds, placed deep into the soil of the places God has planted us and called us to die for; if we allow ourselves to crack open and be poured out, we find ourselves more full than we could possibly comprehend. Root systems push outward, breaking hard soil, stretching upward and changing the landscape itself. In the fullness of time, that step of sacrifice yields fruit and shelter for future generations and a legacy of the work of a God who glories in small beginnings.

To be a ‘Missional Church’ is to come to grips with the reality that we were never intended to be gathered together for merely our own sake. Rather, in the legacy of Gods covenant with Abraham we have been blessed to be a blessing; called out to be the vehicle through which all of creation may be blessed by the work and heart of God. It is to offer ourselves to the world as the physical evidence of the consummation of a Kingdom where Gods will is done right here in their very midst. It is to embody the character of the God who poured himself out in love so that broken people might find life. It is a call to go; to demonstrate and announce the reality and the ‘good news’ of this in-breaking kingdom to those who have not yet heard. It is to die, and to find real life on the other side. It is to invite others to join us in that journey. To be a ‘Missional Church’ is to be a people who have drawn so close to the heart of God that we find our hearts beating in time with his.

:: My Experience ::

I have been extraordinarily blessed in this season of my life to find myself surrounded by a community that is truly wrestling with what it means to be a ‘missional’ church: Biblically rooted, actively engaged in helping to meet needs of the community; proclaiming the gospel in both word and deed. God is doing some great things in our midst, and I stand in awe of that.

At the same time, we are held back by same things that hinder most suburban, wealthy, predominantly white churches that I know of. Our wallets (and our debts) are too big, our imaginations are too small. We are too comfortable, and too far removed from people who God would call us to love if we could only open our eyes and see them. We are too conservative, too well educated, and too reluctant to risk. We are too competent for our own good. We’re too homogeneous. Our numbers have grown more quickly than our ability to administrate; consequently the vision sometimes gets lost in the shuffle and communication isn’t what it should be.

This is, of course, a gross generalization of a fairly large community. Corporately, though, these are things that we all must own and press into if we are to pursue what God has for us. Overall, though, we’re putting one foot in front of the other. We are committed to this journey, and that’s exciting to see. We are growing in our understanding of what Gods ‘mission’ is and what our role might look like in the place that God has planted us. We’re blind people who are in the process of becoming less so; and I praise God for that every day.

1 N.T. Wright is the first person I have heard use this terminology.

2 Rob Bell used phrase in a teaching segment at a pastors conference at Mars Hill Bible Church called ‘Isn’t She Beautiful?’. He borrowed it from a spiritual director of his. Where it come from before that, I’m not sure; but it’s brilliant.

Relevant Works:

Bartholomew, Craig. Goheen, Michael. ‘The Drama of Scripture: Finding Our Place in the Biblical Story’. Grand Rapids, MI. Baker Academic, 2005

Wright, N.T. ‘The Challenge of Jesus’. Downers Grove, IL. Intervarsity Press, 1999

Wright, N.T. ‘New Exodus, New Creation, New Humanity’. Audio recording posted at: http://www.calvin.edu/worship/idis/theology/ntwright_romans_part2.mp3