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The Bible, The Christ, and Evangelicalism

Bibles

Pastor and professor David Fitch offers the following critiques of evangelicalism, as based in his book The End of Evangelicalism. This is found over at "The Other Journal."

TOJ: You claim that the evangelical belief in the “inerrant” Bible has not really been about the truth but about “being in control of the truth.” It appears that just as evangelicalism continues to fracture into different hermeneutical camps, large church personalities have effectively replaced denominations in defending doctrine. Over this next decade, how do you see the fight of inerrancy shaping up?

DF: There’s a splintering of evangelicalism, and strangely, I would say that the majority of evangelicalism realizes that “inerrancy” is an apologetic strategy whose time is over. It is a strategy that in fact undermines Scripture by defining its authority via a reference point outside itself, by what is an “error” and who gets to define “error,” as opposed to what Scripture is in its relationship to the Incarnate Christ. Nonetheless, it wouldn’t surprise me if the New-Reformed movement among evangelicals makes inerrancy once again a shibboleth to determine who is a true evangelical. Once this happens, I think we’ll all be energized to expose the defensiveness in this move and move on to a true faithfulness.

TOJ: Another hallmark of the evangelical is the “decision for Christ,” but you write that this decision has effectively been “separated from one’s embodied life.” Could you explain that further, particularly how such a deep and personal decision has found such tragic separation?

DF: I refer to it as a separation because speaking of a decision for Christ doesn’t mean anything anymore. I am sure that is an overstatement. But what I try to show in the book is that the decision for Christ has become a master signifier that creates a fantasy, as if to make a person feel good for what he or she has done. Yet it demands nothing of this person. In essence it does what any good master signifier must do—it enables us to “believe without believing,” in Žižek’s famous words. It allows us to be Christians without it meaning anything material to our embodied existence. Nonetheless, conversion is at the heart of Jesus’s call to follow him. We need to recover conversion. I go much deeper into this whole phenomenon in the book. 

You can read more of the interview following the link above.

"What People Believe About Me Is Nothing"

Christ washing the feet of the Apostles, by Gi...Image via Wikipedia

“What people believe about me is nothing; what they believe about Christ because of me is everything.”

- Paul Washer
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MINE!

Blue Rich Mountainphoto © 2007 Kecko | more info (via: Wylio)


"There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry: 'Mine!'"
Abraham Kuyper (Dutch Prime Minister 1901-1905)

LOST: Our Quest to Find Jesus #6 -- "Jesus, The Shepherd" -- Sermon for 13 Februrary 2010

Good ShephardImage via Wikipedia(Note: This is a sermon series focused on misconceptions of Jesus in our culture where Jesus is all around us.  I'm using Jared Wilson's book, Your Jesus is Too Safe as a springboard into the series and will follow along with some of his themes.  For those of you who haven't read Wilson's stuff, I encourage you to at least check out his blog, The Gospel-Driven Church.  And, I've really enjoyed the book.  It's challenged me.)

Text:  Psalm 23 & John 10:7-16
Title:  “Jesus: The Shepherd”

We are getting close to the end of this sermon and worship series on “Our Quest to Find Jesus,” really getting at who Jesus was and is and why what he does for us is paramount to our faith.  You know, as CHRISTIANS, we say that the person and work of CHRIST is central to our faith.  But, really, when it comes down to it, while we may talk about Jesus, maybe even a lot, we don’t get into the various facets of his ministry and his work.   

We’ve covered a lot.  Jesus the Promise.  Jesus the Prophet.  Jesus the Forgiver.  Jesus the Man.  And there’s a lot more.  Today we look at Jesus the Shepherd.

Now, there’s a couple reasons why this is important for us to look at…I mean beyond the fact that Jesus calls himself “the Good Shepherd” and if Jesus calls himself that it must be pretty important.  We’re looking at Jesus the Shepherd because we often don’t understand how Jesus the Shepherd was comparing himself to the shepherds of the day and because it’s a metaphor that can be lost in our culture.  My guess is no one here were shepherds.   Running a sheep farm isn’t the same.

We know that Jesus, at the very outset, places himself among the shepherds.

Jared Wilson, in his book, Your Jesus is Too Small, which is serving as a framework for this series, puts it this way:

One night about two thousand years ago, a few working stiffs were lazing about in a pasture.  They had the overnight shift in the boss’ sheep-watching company.  The reality of sheep-watching is…mundane, I’m guessing.  You’d have to keep your eyes open for wolves or other predators, and to make sure none of your flock wanders off too far, but aside from that, watching over sheep is probably pretty boring—the night watch especially.

The shepherds in the story of Jesus’ birth are just hanging around, watching sheep, when suddenly an angel appears, and “the glory of the Lord” shone all around them.  They were, naturally, terrified, but the angel tells them not to be afraid.  And then, as if to test their obedience, the sky fills up with a host of angels. I don’t know about you, but I think I’d be more than a little scared.  Today these guys would be on the news talking about UFOs and nobody would believe them.  But the angels were heralds of God, filling the skies with the glorious announcement that the long-awaited Messiah had been born. (105-106)

And so it begins. Jesus is born in a manger (or a cave), well, at least among the animals.  And there at his birth are some of the common folk…the “salt of the earth” people. 

That scene, however, is a bit too ideal.  One of the things we need to know is that, beyond being “salt of the earth” type people, shepherds were dirty.  They were ritually unclean.  And, because Jesus later on calls himself “the Good Shepherd”, we know that there were a lot of “bad shepherds” out there.  They were overworked and underpaid.  It was not really their concern if one of the sheep got away.  They were at the bottom of the list of acceptable persons in society.   So the fact that they appear at the manger and that Jesus would run with this metaphor is important.

So Jesus…well, he would be different.  All those things that the ideal shepherd was supposed to do…well, he’d do it…but with people. 

The ideal shepherd isn’t one who comes and punches the clock, going about the work of the day.  The ideal shepherd would be moved with COMPASSION.  The ideal shepherd would feel deeply for the sheep in his…or her…care. 

In Matthew 9, the crowds are gathering around Jesus, he has put in his time.  He’s called disciples.  He’s been questioned by the religious authorities. He’s raised a dead girl.  He healed a woman and two blind men and a demoniac.  Then Matthew 9:35-36 says:

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching in their synagogues, proclaiming the good news of the kingdom and healing every disease and sickness. When he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.

Compassion is not really about being nice.  It’s not about sympathizing.  It’s deep.  The Greek word for compassion points to a yearning from the bowels.  You know those times when you’ve seen someone hurt or distressed or in trouble and you hurt for them…deeply…internally…viscerally?  Well, that’s the way it is with the compassion of our Shepherd, Jesus.  He looks out upon the crowds, the dirty, helpless, folk.  Here he’s not asking what choices they’ve made to get into these predicaments.  He’s aching for them.  He has compassion on them.

I know I can be aloof at times, walking though life with blinders on and not aware of the issues around me.  I know that sometimes, I don’t CARE like I really should.  Not everything breaks through my exterior shell.  And, I know, as of late, I’ve talked about my role in counseling persons in times of crisis and need, particularly through the fire department.   But I’m gonna share it again, at the risk of repeating myself.  See, I can see in myself, that, at those times of tragedy, I think I have most modeled the compassion of Jesus.  It’s not limited to those time.  But as I remember, at those times, I have HURT for those who were hurting.  I loved.  I have felt it.

I have to think of isolated incidents to get at that emotion, or something approaching it.  But I like to think that our Jesus is ever-compassionate.  That emotion, that I think I can pinpoint…is what Jesus has for all of us who are hurting…for all of us who are lost…for all of us who sin against God and against each other…for all of us who are overly satisfied for what our life looks like.  He sees the mess of our life and he has a perfect COMPASSION for us.  He felt that for the crowds.  He feels it for us. 

Isn’t that the ideal SHEPHERD?

So, we want our Shepherd to have compassion. But that compassion, we pray would move our SHEPHERD to action.  You know, a SHEPHERD who is just biding his time until the shift’s over is not going to put up much of a fight when push comes to shove with a wolf or other predator.  That might have been too much to ask for of the shepherds of Jesus’ day.  But it’s what we’d ask of our ideal Shepherd.  That’s what Jesus is.

Remember the words of the Gospel of John which was read earlier:

‘I am the good shepherd. The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep. The hired hand, who is not the shepherd and does not own the sheep, sees the wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away—and the wolf snatches them and scatters them. The hired hand runs away because a hired hand does not care for the sheep. I am the good shepherd. I know my own and my own know me, just as the Father knows me and I know the Father. And I lay down my life for the sheep. (John 10:11-15)


This image of the shepherd laying down his life for the sheep, would have caused a stir with his listeners.  They knew that it was near impossible to find a shepherd that would actually go that extra distance for the sheep.  But it also connected him with the deep-rooted sacrificial theology of Judaism where the sacrifice of a sheep was required to, well, make things right with God.  So, yes, Jesus, unlike the shepherds of his day would step in there to keep the wolves at bay.  But, even more so, he was willing to step in there and offer himself in the sheep’s place at the sacrifice.

You know, I get the healing of people.  I think it’s great and I put my trust on the healing of Jesus.  I get the compassion.  I don’t have enough of it.  We don’t have enough of it in the world.  I get a lot of the preaching and how countercultural, almost counter-intuitive it is.  But the sacrifice of Jesus kinda’ blows my mind.  We can talk about the Shepherd sacrificing himself for the sheep, but here we talk about him becoming the sacrifice.  Our the Son of God, eternal with the Father, looks down from heaven or on high or beyond eternity at our predicament, and he leaves all of that behind to save us…how, I haven’t really wrapped my brain around at the point, yet.  But I have wrapped my brain around the fact that here we have our Shepherd becoming a Sheep.  How many earthly shepherds would be willing to become sheep to save them? 

Wilson writes:

Imagine, if you like, that you and I are so in love with ants, extremely desirous of a relationship with ants, incredibly eager for ants to know us, that the only way we could achieve this connection is to become an ant.  The analogy breaks down, as all analogies do, but to go from the God of the universe, with all powers at his disposal, to a crying, burping, pooping baby in a feeding barn…that’s a sacrifice on part with man becoming an ant.

That’s the kind of shepherd we have.  We have a sacrificial Shepherd. ( 113)

Our shepherd has compassion.  Our shepherd offers himself as the sacrifice.  Our shepherd also SEEKS US.  Remember the parables with lost things in Luke 15?  We have a lost son, a lost coin, and a lost sheep.  And, as the story gets recounted, we hear how our God, would go out of his way to find the thing that’s lost.  The woman with the lost coin turns her house upside down and invites friends over for a party. The Father who lost his son waits, and waits, and waits, and throws a party when he returns.
And the shepherd…well this is what Luke says about that shepherd and the sheep:

And when he has found it, he lays it on his shoulders, rejoicing.  And when he comes home, he calls together his friends and his neighbors, saying to them, ‘Rejoice with me, for I have found my sheep that was lost.’  Just so, I tell you, there will be more join in heaven over one sinner who repents than over ninety-nine righteous persons who need no repentance (Luke 15:4-7)

We here in the US, and I think around the world as well, are big on caring for our own.  We take care of our family.  We look out for those who are like us.  We keep our friends close.  If you mess with someone we care about…well, you’ve messed with us now.  But, Jesus, as shepherd, is constantly seeking those who are lost, those who are outside of the inner circle, those who won’t make it unless someone brings them in.

And, that’s us.  We’re the ones who were outside.  We’re the ones who were lost.  And we’re the ones that Jesus sought (and bought) by his sacrifice.

That said.  And that’s good to be said.  That said…we have an example in Christ for what it looks like to seek out those who are lost and in need of rescuing.  In our world…man…that’s a lot of people.  We look at those who are outside the faith, perhaps searching, perhaps grasping at anything that comes along.  We have people in Egypt, just out from under a regime but now entering the uncertain time of forming a governement.  We have people in Algiers, rising up against their government, which has now shut down Facebook as a way to lessen the protests.  We have the poor…in Africa and Asia and in the US and in Alaska.  We have marriages that are faltering, we have children spending their time bullying or being bullied or sitting at home while their parents drink themselves silly or finding places to hang out where they can drown their problems in drugs, themselves.  We have a lot of persons who need found…and it’s unclear whether they even know that they need found or if they’d be happy to be found if you found them in the first place.

So…even in the church…we kind of focus on who we have in front of us.   Who is it that’s in worship.  Who are the new faces we’re happy to be with?  Who are the members or the frequent attendees?  Who are the ones we know…they’ve heard some of our problems…we’ve heard some of theirs…we kind of know each other…kinda’?

Yet, our Shepherd seeks.  He has sought us.  And, we, who follow this Shepherd, must seek others.

Following this kind of shepherd isn’t easy. It’s not quaint.  It’s dirty.  And, as shepherds were among some of the socially outcast of their day, so we, if we follow closely, may find ourselves among the socially outcast of our day. 

I mean, to be moved with compassion and hanging out with the poor, in the hopes of offering the saving word of grace. 

I mean, to love so deeply, that the kid no one wants to sit with is the one by your side, pushing away, perhaps, the other people you’d like to spend your time with.

I mean, to seek the lost so fully that you’re willing to enter into the places that make you feel uncomfortable, hoping to offer a hand that will pull someone out of their lostness and into the foundness that comes from God.

I mean, to sacrifice your place, your money, your reputation, your time, your gifts to offer the message of Christ to the one who must hear it.

Those of us who sing about wanting to be a sheep…we need to realize that being a sheep of this shepherd, means shepherding like him.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.
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LOST: Our Quest to Find Jesus -- "Jesus the Man" -- Sermon for 6 February 2011

1984 in Maya hieroglyphs. Jesus.Image via Wikipedia(Note: This is a sermon series focused on misconceptions of Jesus in our culture where Jesus is all around us.  I'm using Jared Wilson's book, Your Jesus is Too Safe as a springboard into the series and will follow along with some of his themes.  For those of you who haven't read Wilson's stuff, I encourage you to at least check out his blog, The Gospel-Driven Church.  And, I've really enjoyed the book.  It's challenged me.)


Text:  Psalm 24:1-6 & Romans 5:17-21
Title:  “Jesus: The Man”

We like our God tough.  We like our God OMNIPOTENT and OMNIPRESENT and OMNISCIENT  (all-powerful, all-present, all-knowing).  We like our God to be GODLY, with some holy muscle on him.  We can talk pretty openly about Jesus being with us wherever we go and how much he loves us and speaks to us through his Spirit.

Sometimes it’s harder for us to come to grips with the humanness of Jesus.  That’s why I stress at Christmastime that the great God of the universe has come to us as a helpless baby in the manger…who cried and got gas and spit up on Mary’s shoulder as she burped him. 

That’s some human stuff.

And there’s other parts with being human that we just don’t get into with Jesus.  As fully human I’m pretty sure he had to use the restroom.  I’m pretty sure he left toys on the floor and had acne.  I’m pretty sure he sometimes laughed so hard that he got the hiccups or did one of those SNORT noises that some people do when they laugh.  He was human.  He was a baby.  He was a boy.   He was a teenager.  He was a man.

But, if we’re honest with ourselves, we need to admit that there is a leap of faith that comes with this, for we say that Jesus was both fully God and fully man…not the typical, everyday experience.  And sometimes, trying to hold these together, persons have come down way on the side of one of the other.

Throughout this sermon series, we’ve been saying that there are certain MISCONCEPTIONS that people have of Jesus – like he’s angry and doesn’t forgive of that he has nothing to do with all that came before him in the Old Testament.  But, the MISCONCEPTION about Jesus being fully God and not human at all isn’t even a misconception.  The church, long ago—like, in the 3rd century—,called it a heresy. 

Here’s a little history lesson for you.  In the 3rd century the church was dealing with a growing belief that JESUS FELT NO PAIN.  While there was a lot going on at the time that tried to deny the divinity of Christ, this is one that denied the humanity.  The name of this belief is DOCETISM.  Docetism comes from the Greek work which means “TO SEEM” or “TO APPEAR” and, in docetism, Jesus wasn’t really human although he SEEMED to be human.

There is a logic here.  Because we have an all-powerful, all present, totally transcendent God, it would be impossible for our God to experience any kind of human suffering.  It wouldn’t make sense.  And to embrace some sort of idea where the great ruler of the universe would have put on human flesh and moved into our neighborhoods was, well unthinkable.  Couldn’t have happened. 

The early church, however, fought back hard.  I know the name Irenaeus probably isn’t known to you, but it was Irenaeus who wrote from prison saying, essentially:  Hey, why am I in prison if the gospel is just some harmless lie, where no one really suffered and died?

His exact words were more pointed, even:

Turn a deaf ear therefore when any one speaks to you apart from Jesus Christ, who was of the family of David, the child of Mary, who was truly born, who ate and drank, who was truly persecuted under Pontius Pilate, was truly crucified and truly died….But if, as some godless men, that is, unbelievers, say, he suffered in mere appearance (being themselves being mere appearances), why am I in bonds?

[And another ancient saint in the fray is Polycarp who] “makes the strongest possible charge against the Docetists by saying that “everyone who does not confess that Jesus Christ has come in the flesh is an anti-Christ,” echoing 1 John 4:2-3.”
So, what’s the big deal here?  What’s the problem with having a view that our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ never touched the ground because he was so Godly and surely couldn’t have suffered and died?  Well, that’s what we need to get at.

It all kind of goes back to that Psalm passage we read, from Psalm 24 a bit earlier:

The earth is the Lord’s and all that is in it, the world, and those who live in it; for he has founded it on the seas, and established it on the rivers.  Who shall ascend the hill of the Lord? And who shall stand in his holy place?  Those who have clean hands and pure hearts, who do not lift up their souls to what is false, and do not swear deceitfully. They will receive blessing from the Lord, and vindication from the God of their salvation. Such is the company of those who seek him, who seek the face of the God of Jacob.

This is David, back in the Old Testament.  David…with all of his Bathsheba problem.  This is not someone with clean hands and a pure heart.  And yet, here he is, singing about the only one being able to ascend the hill of the Lord…the only one able to bridge the distance between God and humankind is the one who is clean and pure and doesn’t do what is false, and doesn’t swear…deceitfully.

Even in the Old Testament, there was a sense that what was needed, to really connect us with God was someone…some human…who was without sin.  We needed a human to make the sacrifice to restore the relationship between humans and God.

That’s where Jesus comes in.

The Bible is full of the humanness of Jesus.  We’ve already alluded to that birth in the manger that we celebrated about a month and a half ago.  (Really, it’s about a month and a half ago.  I swear!)  And we know this was a real birth, albeit a miraculous one with a virgin for a mother—and that’s “virgin” in the classic sense of the word and not “virgin” as in “a young girl” which is what the original word in Isaiah, that points to this might have meant.  The gospels are clear that Mary and Joseph had no marital relations before Jesus was born. 

And then we kind of enter a cloudy area in Jesus’ life, because there’s just not much there.  We might be fully interested in hearing about Jesus’ childhood friends, and whether he got picked first or last for the baseball team and whether or not he responded with some “and the first will be last” comment.  But we just don’t have that information.  We know that he got lost from his parents when he was just 12 years old and his parents found him in the temple.  But that’s about it.  And we have to deal with that.

Says Jared Wilson, whose book Your Jesus is Too Safe is serving as the background for this series says,

Though we’d love to know more about Jesus as a child, the gospel writers were more interested in telling us about the powerful and redemptive work of his adult ministry than in satisfying our curiosity about his childhood.  The modern imaginative insistence—that the church excised from the Gospels and then concealed whatever happened in Jesus’ adolescence—is not only fanciful, it is also anachronistic—it assumes the Gospels must adhere to the forms and conventions of modern biographies. (83)

In short, the gospel writers didn’t care to tell us what happened in Jesus’ teens and twenties…why…because that wasn’t really important to the salvation story at hand.

We can assume some things.

We might assume that Jesus was a carpenter because we know Joseph was.  But, Jesus is never called a carpenter in the Bible…only a carpenter’s son (Matthew 13:55).  He’s called “Rabbi” or “Teacher” a lot more frequently.  It could very well be that he studied as a Rabbi.  That would make some sense.

We can also assume that Joseph, Jesus’ dad died at some point.  That would explain why we don’t hear about Joseph at all after the “lost in the temple” experience.  And, it would also explain why, Jesus, at the cross, gives his friend John charge of his mother. 

There would have been no need to do this if Joseph were still living, and indeed, John takes Mary into his home to live thereafter.  Mary’s widowhood would partially explain Jesus’ close relationship with her throughout the gospel stories.  The other explanation for maintaining such a close, sweet relationship with his mother is just that he was the perfect son. (Wilson, 84)

Some have assumed that Jesus was married, even married and having kids.  Does Dan Brown’s The Da Vinci Code ring a bell to anyone?  There are some problems with this. 

First, it doesn’t make historical sense.  We know it’s not in the four gospels.  And, if he had gotten married, there’d be no reason not to include it. It wouldn’t be scandalous and therefore kept from the first century Christians.  Moreover, if he had been married with kids, it would have been a big part of his life and worthy of a mention.

Secondly, it doesn’t make logical sense.  We started this discussion of Jesus’ manhood by saying that he was the perfect man…the perfect human…and was therefore able to bridge the divide between God and humanity.  Well, what kind of perfect man would leave his wife and kids behind to go tour around the countryside with 12 guys for three year before dying for the sins of the world?  He’d be a horrible man.  It’s not logical.

All this is to say that, orthodox Christianity doesn’t believe that he was married.  If he had been, it wouldn’t make him any less the Son of God and Son of Man.  But, since he didn’t get married it’s kind of a moot point.

But, beyond assumptions, there are some things that we really can know about Jesus the Man from the three years of ministry that get recorded in the Gospels.

We can know the Jesus was a humble man.

This is, perhaps, a little odd considering here’s a guy who says, “I am the Way and the Truth, and the Life” and demanded that the lives of all his followers revolved around him.  But we know he was humble.

This is one who gave up the throne of heaven to come down to earth to redeem.  He gave.  He served.  He sought.  Think of how he lowered himself to move into our neighborhood, earth…the neighborhood on the other side of the tracks from heaven.

Philippians says he “made himself nothing, taking the very nature of a servant, being made in human likeness.  And being found in appearance as a man, he humbled himself and became obedient to death—even death on a cross.”

He was humble man.

We can also know he was a brilliant man.

This may be hard for us to grasp, as we see brilliance in the minds of Einstein or Plato, Augustine or Isaac Newton.  We don’t think of Jesus.

Yesterday I had a meeting for The Walk to Emmaus spiritual retreat.  And, on the retreat, the Walk to Emmaus story from Luke comes up where Jesus walks with persons after the resurrection and they are distraught at what’s taken place around his death.  But as they walked along Jesus opened up their hearts to all the scriptures about himself.

And we believe that Jesus was a brilliant guy and believe that his words are not just a quaint account of first century life, but are words of instruction and life across the miles and the ages.  We believe he was good, but that he was smart in the practical application.

But, says Wilson:

In one of the great ironies of our modern evangelical subculture, we are very big on “making” the Christian faith practical and “relevant,” yet by and large we go on living our lives as if Jesus had nothing relevant to say about what we do and say, who we date or marry, what sort of jobs we take, what sort of families we raise, where we spend our time with. (94-95)

We’ll take our Jesus as “good” but will we take him as smart enough to know what’s best for us.

We can know him as fully man. 

Because Jesus was fully man, he can reverse Adam’s fall.  Our Romans passage says this:

If, because of the one man’s trespass, death exercised dominion through that one, much more surely will those who receive the abundance of grace and the free gift of righteousness exercise dominion in life through the one man, Jesus Christ.  Therefore just as one man’s trespass led to condemnation for all, so one man’s act of righteousness leads to justification and life for all.


Jesus was fully man…but a fully sinless man.  That makes our righteousness possible.  This is integral to a Christian understanding of salvation.

But he was fully man as well in that he experienced the highs, the lows, of human life.  He knew loss of family (Joseph and John the Baptist).  He knew the loss of a friend (Lazarus).  He knew temptation (remember that time in the desert).  He knew what it was like to be lost from him parent.

He might not have experienced exactly what you’re going through or you’ve been through but he knew what it was like to be rejected by friends and family.  He knew anxiety.  He knew physical abuse.  He even knew what it was like to die.

As human as we are, we may want a God who is totally other than us…divine.  That’s understandable.  And, in many ways, Jesus was and is that.  But as divine as our God is, he knew that the way to offer us a better way was to become one of us…fully.  Know that Jesus the man has accomplished all that his Father has set out to have him do.  And because of that we can ascend “the hill of the Lord.”

In the name of the Father and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.


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Napoleon Gives Props to Jesus

Been working on "Jesus the King" theme and came across this quote from Napoleon.  It's a good one.

Is Your Gospel Too Small?

Day 432 / 365 - It's a small worldphoto © 2008 Jason Rogers | more info (via: Wylio)


A gospel which is only about the moment of conversion but does not extend to every moment of life in Christ is too small. A gospel that gets your sins forgiven but offers no power for transformation is too small. A gospel that isolates one of the benefits of union with Christ and ignores all the others is too small. A gospel that must be measured by your own moral conduct, social conscience, or religious experience is too small. A gospel that rearranges the components of your life but does not put you personally in the presence of God is too small.

 -- Fred Sanders, The Deep Things of God

(HT to Jared Wilson)

Ch-ch-ch-ch-changes.

It's all about changing -- transformation.

Grapple - Transform (1 of 5)photo © 2009 Michael Accardi | more info (via: Wylio)


A relationship with God in Christ in the power of the Holy Spirit will change us. A church grounded in God will be transformed, and it will likely transform its surrounding culture. If living in Christ makes no difference, we of all people are most to be pitied.

Mark Galli -- Are We Transformed Yet

LOST: Our Quest to Find Jesus -- "Jesus, The Forgiver" -- Sermon for 30 January 2010

Jesus forgivesphoto © 2010 R. M. Calamar | more info (via: Wylio)

Text:  Hosea 14:1-7 & Colossians 3:12-14
Title:  “Jesus: The Forgiver”

We have sanitized forgiveness in our culture.  We have lessened its impact.  We have made it easy…simple…quaint.

As a parent, I know there are times when we’re talking with our kids after an argument and we want one of them to say they’re sorry for whatever it is that they have done wrong and we want the other kid to say…even if it’s like pulling teeth to get them to say it… “I FORGIVE YOU.”  And this is a good lesson to be taught at an early age.  We don’t want our kids to stay mad at each other or us or someone else FOREVER.  There is some sort of emotional healing that comes with forgiveness, even for the little things, so that we’re not weighed down a desire to enact VENGEANCE BECAUSE WE HAVE BEEN SO WRONGED--or at least our kids can FEEL that they've been very wronged.


She destroyed my picture.

He told her that I liked her.

They went into my room without asking first.


It is good to let the pain and the hurt go.  Forgiveness means you won’t be a slave to that pain and hurt anymore.

But, you know, this type of forgiveness is FORGIVENESS-WITH-TRAINING WHEELS.  Most of the situations where forgiveness comes up in our lives we’d really be able to get through or get over without much emotional investment because, while we may feel hurt at the time, a little perspective and a little life happening to you can make you realize that, in the grand scheme of things, our hurt was pretty minor.

Where the rubber meets the road, though, is when those training wheels come up…when the hurt is BIG, where the pain is REAL, where your emotional investment is INTENSE.

Says Jared Wilson in his book, Your Jesus is Too Safe, which is serving as our springboard into these discussions, writes about forgiveness this way:


We have so sanitized forgiveness it’s all out of focus.  We idealize it as nice and virtuous, the dominion of children and their insignificant squabbles.  We forget, though, just how messy, how difficult, how scandalous forgiveness really is until were faced with the opportunity to experience it ourselves.  If you’ve ever cried out for a forgiveness withheld from you, or if you’ve ever had to face the sometimes excruciating process of forgiving someone who has really sinned against you, then you know what I’m talking about.  If you haven’t experienced either opportunity, just wait. (59)


We may say Jesus loves us, but when we have been wronged to our very core, we like to saddle up with our friend, the ANGRY JESUS.  He’s the one who can’t stand to be around sin for he is holy, and he can’t stand to be around injustice, for he is just, and he’s the one who says vengeance is mine and we’re more than happy to let him at whoever it was who hurt us so bad.

And so, we get angry.   And we stew.  And we simmer.  And we boil.  And we hold onto those feelings and can’t seem to avoid having them define us and shape us.  We can lose sight of Christ’s forgiveness, maybe not because we want to lose sight of it, but because our situation makes it so difficult to forgive.

One example…  When I was in seminary at Duke, I had a professor who talked with me about a class on forgiveness he was teaching.  After students had signed up for the class one girl pulled him aside.  She admitted that she had been raped and she wanted to take the class to forgive the one who did this to her.  That put a lot of pressure on the professor!  Well, as the class progressed, she came and talked with the professor, wondering if she should continue.  She just couldn’t forgive this person.  The professor asked if she WANTED to forgive.  Yes, she did.  Well, then, she was on her way, he said.  He said, when your pain is deep, forgiveness can be a long process.  Deep wounds don’t have quick fixes.  But, it’s still important to move along that direction.

The Bible, too, talks about forgiveness in difficult times.  One great example is rough.  It’s Hosea in the Old Testament. 

God wants Hosea to serve as an example of his own great love and forgiveness and relentless pursuit of his chosen people.  So he orders Hosea to marry Gomer, a prostitute.  Hosea obeys.  Gomer doesn’t stop doing what she had been doing.  Hosea is married to an unfaithful spouse and yet remains wedded to her, forgiving her at every step, never stopping loving her.  This provides us with a stunning image of the grace of God.  For God, in Hosea, is in a relationship with an adulterous spouse Israel, who has gone off seeking other spiritual suitors.  

These two images, the young woman in the class on forgiveness and Hosea and Gomer are not meant to shock.  They are meant to help explain the rawness of forgiveness and what’s really at stake here.  Our Gospel teaches us that this very human commitment to sin and pain and hurt has been overcome by a more powerful commitment on God’s part to restoration and healing and sanctification.  And, at times, it’s every bit as difficult as these two illustrations make clear.  Forgiveness is messy work. 

But, even though it can tear us up, we know that, the end of the process is a beautiful thing.

Hosea’s account, closes with a love song --- How could it possibly end with a love song, we may want to say?  -- But it does.  We read it before, but Peterson’s The Message translation puts it this way:


"I will heal their waywardness.
   I will love them lavishly. My anger is played out.
I will make a fresh start with Israel.
   He'll burst into bloom like a crocus in the spring.
He'll put down deep oak tree roots,
   he'll become a forest of oaks!
He'll become splendid—like a giant sequoia,
   his fragrance like a grove of cedars!
Those who live near him will be blessed by him,
   be blessed and prosper like golden grain.
Everyone will be talking about them,
   spreading their fame as the vintage children of God. (Hosea 14:4-7)


We may say this is beautiful.  We may say it’s wonderful that Israel will be restored into relationship with its God.  But we cannot say the “getting there” is easy.

I was once told by another professor, (and I paraphrase), “Grace stinks.”  It stinks because it means burying the hatchet, in the ground and not in a back. It means welcoming home someone who isn’t worthy of being welcomed.  It’s is offering mercy to the one who is unmerciful.  It is forgiving the one you can imagine ever forgiving.  And, if we are going to followers of Christ, we need to follow into this radical world of forgiveness where “Grace stinks” – because it goes against our better judgment, against the world’s teachings of right and wrong, and against our emotions that would rather sit in our angers and resentments.

This is scandalous.

And of course, Jesus made it even more scandalous.  Because here we have a carpenter’s son from Nazareth who now claims to be able to offer the forgiveness of God.

Think of the passage from Mark 2 and the paralytic man.  His buddies bring him to see Jesus but they can’t get in the door.  They peek through the windows.  They yell. Nothing.  So they get a ladder and go up the roof and start digging through.  They lower their friend to the feet of Jesus in the sure and certain hope that he would be healed.  And he is. And Jesus says, “My son, your sins are forgiven.” 

Forgiveness and the healing or restoration that accompanies it is found in this one man.

I think the main thing about forgiveness that confronts our delicate sensibilities is that the person who is forgiven doesn’t deserve that forgiveness.  It flies in face of all that we think is right and just.

I remember hearing a story about the Amish in upstate Indiana.  Apparently, one day, a group of teenagers was out joyriding and throwing rocks into Amish buggies as they passed by.  Nothing usually happened outside of some kids being mean.  But on this one day, the rock hit a baby who was in the back of the buggy and killed the child.  When the police started to press charges, the family said that they would not.  They forgave the teenage boys and would pray that they would receive and live into that forgiveness.  The police had no idea how to process this. It didn’t make sense.

Or, think about the Amish schoolhouse in Pennsylvania in 2006 where an armed man came and murdered five young girls before taking his own life.  And the Amish community said they harbored no ill will but forgave the man and have reached out to his family.

Or, this account given by Jared Wilson:


The same week of the Amish schoolhouse murders, one of our church’s pastors told the story of a mother who’d forgiven the drunk driver who killed her teenage son.  Not only had she found her way past the anger and bitterness to forgive the driver, but she and her husband had also pursued the messy work of reconciling a relationship with the man, EVEN THOUGH THEY HAD NO PRIOR RELATIONSHIP WITH HIM.  Her husband, who was a pastor, even presided over the man’s marriage. (66)


Look, I hope you’re never put in any one of these situations.  I pray that nothing I’ve said today will ever apply to your life in the same way.  I pray that the wrongs committed against you remain childlike, and involve little need for healing and restoration.  But if you ever find yourself in something like this, you’ll find that “Grace Stinks,” that forgiveness is painful, that fixing something that’s broken can require some great help from God.

Some things we need to understand about forgiveness:

First, FORGIVENESS IS NOT JUST FOR THE PERSON WHO'S FORGIVEN BUT FOR THE FORGIVER AS WELL.  By forgiving you free yourself from bondage to resentment.  You liberate yourself.  And this doesn’t matter if the person you’re forgiving is repentant or changed or accepts your forgiveness.  By forgiving someone, you claim that you will not be defined by that wrong that was done to you and that you will not keep the weight of that burden from living an abundant life.  You are freed.  You are more than that.

Now, as I’ve said, this may go against all that you’re feeling and all that you’re thinking when you’re in the midst of your pain.  Working through forgiveness can be infuriating.

Second, THIS WHOLE FORGIVENESS THING SPRINGS FROM THE FACT THAT WE ARE FORGIVEN. Remember Hosea and how his life of forgiving Gomer provided us a picture of what God’s forgiveness looks like.  That’s the forgiveness God offers to us.  We don’t deserve it.  It’s a free gift of grace.  That’s what grace is.  And we, who have been forgiven, are to forgive others.

We get reminded of this every time we say The Lord’s Prayer – “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.”  Or, for the Presbyterians in the bunch, “Forgive us our debts as we forgive our debtors.”  Or, for those who like to shake it up in a little more contemporary way, “Forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us.”  It all means the same.  We forgive because we have been forgiven.

Or, the Colossians passage,


Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.


It’s not dependent upon what the other person does.

Says Wilson,


[T]he moment you make your granting of forgiveness contingent on another persons’ attitude or worthiness, you’re slapping God in the face.  Again, this is why: you yourself are not WORTHY of God’s forgiveness.   You can never deserve it. You aren’t good enough or smart enough—doggone it, God didn’t grant you forgiveness because you’re likeable.  He did it because he loves you and because grace is the way he shows it. (72)


So, forgiveness is for the forgiver as well as the forgiven.  We forgive BECAUSE God forgives us.

Third, and last, WE FORGIVE AS WE HAVE BEEN FORGIVEN.

We are forgiven relentlessly, endlessly, patiently.  That is how we are forgiven.  That is how we are to forgive. 

If you remember, when, in Matthew, Peter asks how many times he should forgive.  Is it seven times?  No, it’s seventy times seven.  The point is not to stop when we get to 490 times.  The point is that it’s unending.  Just like Jesus’ forgiveness of us.

Two last points here as we wrap this up.

One.  Forgiveness does not make us doormats.  If you’re getting beat up by a significant other, you need to get away...protect yourself and your family before this can be worked on.  If you have someone who is picking bullying you at school, it’s OK to turn them in, get an adult to help.  If you have a spouse who is fooling around with someone, that extra-marital affair needs to stop for there to be healing in your relationship.

But by offering forgiveness, you give up the power that unforgiveness can have over you.  You bring a radical forgiveness to your relationship and ONLY THEN can true restoration occur.

Two:  We’ve talked about how difficult it is to offer a deep forgiveness.  I want to say it’s difficult to receive forgiveness too.  I have more problems with receiving than giving.  Receiving means letting go of guilt and shame.  Receiving means recognizing how your words or your actions or inactions affected those you love.  Receiving can mean forgiving ourselves.  In short, it means coming face to face with your sin.  Know that God’s grace is always greater than our sins.  And, perhaps, when we’re in need of forgiveness, we’ll find persons whose grace is greater than our sin as well.  It’s hard.  It's hard to find in the world.  But we should thank God when that’s the case.

In the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit.  Amen.

What Comes to Mind When We Think of Jesus

Sermon on the Mountphoto © 2010 Peta de-Aztlan | more info (via: Wylio)
Paraphrasing A.W. Tozer,

What comes to mind when we think of Jesus is the most important thing about our Christian faith.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer on Christmas

Memorial plaque, Dietrich Bonhoeffer, Matthäik...Image via Wikipedia“God is in the manger, wealth in poverty, light in darkness, succor in abandonment. No evil can befall us; whatever men may do to us, they cannot but serve the God who is secretly revealed as love and rules the world and our lives.”

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"The Lord Jesus Is The Same" -- Quote from Charles Spurgeon

Charles Spurgeon (C.H. Spurgeon)Image via Wikipedia

Settle this in your heart: “Whether I am up or down, the Lord Jesus Christ is the same. Whether I sing or sigh, the promise is true and the Promiser is faithful. Whether I stand on the summit or am hidden in the vale the covenant stands fast and everlasting love abides.” 

Charles Spurgeon

(ht to The Blazing Center)


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Consecration and Incarnation -- Salvation and Our Skin -- Christ and Community

Stained glass at St John the Baptist's Anglica...Image via Wikipedia

Clearly I have no idea how to title this blog post.  Perhaps I have way too much going on here.  But my heart and head are still spinning with the events of yesterday at our consecration.  I'm still a little raw.  I'm still moved and touched by all the show of support we had.  I'm still thinking ahead to all the ways this building is going to be used once we're in a position to use it.

As stated, we had our Consecration of our new church yesterday.  I had looked at all sorts of stuff online to help me shape the service.  A pastor friend gave me his services he had used at a consecration nearly 20 years ago.  I had never had to plan one of these and felt great pressure.  After all, the Bishop was going to be here. 

The problem with so much of the stuff I was looking at was that it was so "high church" and formal.  "Process with Bible and Cross."  Tons of ritual.  Lots of formal language.  It looked great for the right setting.  Our church is a lot more informal than this.  None of this was going to feel particularly "Girdwoodian."

This is not to say we don't have important rituals in our church.  No, rituals are very important.  We have communion every week and go through the full liturgy.  We have the kids come down for children's time.  We do the creeds often.  It all just seems to have a more informal feel to it.  It seems "common."  It seems "colloquial." 

Granted, this reflects me, personally.  However, from a theological perspective, I don't pretend to have some religious "realm" or state of being and some "secular" realm.  I really don't have a style of language I use in church and one I use at home.  Or at least I try not to. Because I don't think these two things can truly ever be separated.  When Christ became incarnate he, as Petersons' The Message says, "moved into the neighborhood" (John 1).  He entered this real world with its real people and the salvation he offered was for the real world...with our own language and culture and problems.  Yes, we need to be in awe of God.  We should fear God.  We should offer God reverence.  But we can do so by offering who we are here and now.  We stand before God, with all of our quirks and baggage and problems, and are redeemed in the real world and we offer that salvation to those around us in the real world.

The King Has One More Move

Chess piece - White king, Staunton designImage via Wikipedia
Tony Campolo, on Sunday evening, used a version on the story below in his talk.  I had never heard it before but found some evidence that it was used by a younger Billy Graham years before.  It's a truly awesome illustration and would work well on Easter Sunday.  Please forgive me if it makes its way in to next year's sunrise service.

I tried to get one of my students to research this to see whether it was true and I couldn't find out. But I've heard the story that when the great movie, "The Seventh Seal," by Ingmar Bergman was shown in 1958 in New York, Bobby Fischer, who had just won the world championship in chess, was there in the audience. The movie is built around the story of a medieval knight who's playing a game of chess with the prince of darkness. All the way through the film, the prince of darkness is making moves on the knight, trying to trap him. And in the last scene, the prince of darkness makes a move on the chessboard, looks at the knight, and says, "Checkmate." The game is over. And the curtain comes down. Bobby Fischer is reported to have turned to his friend and said, "Why is that knight giving up? Doesn't he see it? Doesn't he see the pieces on the board? The king has one more move. He can win. The king has one more move!"

Now if you can't preach that, you can't preach.

I found this version over HERE in a sermon preached by Campolo earlier this year.
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