Showing posts with label Grace. Show all posts

So...just what limits do we want to put on grace?  Who is it that we would exclude?  Who can we not forgive?  So much of our grace is "safe."  So much of it is "pristine" -- "sterile" even!  Even as I pastor I recognize I surround myself with the easy candidates for grace.  Most of the people in my life are pretty easy to love.  Not everyone.  But most.

So it is with great interest I read the following today.  This account from Brennan Manning's All Is Grace: A Ragamuffin Memoir is stunning.  I could sit and read this again and again. It really tests the limits of my own understanding of grace and it makes me question whether or not the grace in my life has become too sterile...too safe.

Grace is vulgar.

Enjoy.

My life is a witness to vulgar grace — a grace that amazes as it offends. A grace that pays the eager beaver who works all day long the same wage as the grinning drunk who shows up at ten till five. A grace that hikes up the robe and runs breakneck toward the prodigal reeking of sin and wraps him up and decides to throw a party, no ifs, ands, or buts. A grace that raises bloodshot eyes to a dying thief’s request — “Please, remember me” — and assures him, “You bet!”…This vulgar grace is indiscriminate compassion. It works without asking anything of us. It’s not cheap. It’s free, and as such will always be a banana peel for the orthodox foot and a fairy tale for the grown-up sensibility. Grace is sufficient even though we huff and puff with all our might to try and find something or someone that it cannot cover. Grace is enough…

Sin and forgiveness and falling and getting back up and losing the pearl of great price in the couch cushions but then finding it again, and again, and again? Those are the stumbling steps to becoming Real, the only script that’s really worth following in this world or the one that’s coming. Some may be offended by this ragamuffin memoir, a tale told by quite possibly the repeat of all repeat prodigals. Some might even go so far as to call it ugly. But you see that doesn’t matter, because once you are Real you can’t be ugly except to people who don’t understand…that yes, all is grace. It is enough. And it’s beautiful.

Now go back and read this again.

And again.

How "vulgar" is the grace in your life?

Are you "Real?"

How have you experienced this type of grace?

via

This is a great video from People of the Second Chance. 



What a beautiful account of grace...of mercy...of forgiveness, plain and simple.

As I reflect on this video and the concept behind the movement, I can't help but remember Anne Taylor's Saint Maybe, which a book I had to read at Duke Divinity School under the guidance of Stanley Hauerwas.  In that book, "The Church of the Second Chance" features prominently, as a place of radical forgiveness.

I found an except of the book over at a commentary on Matthew 18 on the cost of forgiveness by Carl Gregg:

As the story goes, one day a plate glass window attracts Ian’s attention as he walks down the street. The window reads, “The Church of the Second Chance.” He can hear a hymn being sung by inside. He almost keeps walking, but instead quietly enters the church, and slips into a back pew, hoping not to draw too much attention to himself. After the service is over, Pastor Emmett introduces himself to Ian. As they talk, all the emotions Ian has been holding inside the past few weeks flood to the surface. He begins confessing to Pastor Emmett.

Pastor Emmett: What’s wrong, Ian?

Ian: I don’t even know where to start. So much has happened so quickly. It started when I told my brother…I told my brother that his wife was cheating on him. And then later that night…he drove into a wall.  Then a few days later his wife overdosed on sleeping pills. So I guess you could say I helped cause that too…more or less… He’d had too much to drink that night. I guess I shouldn’t have told him. But I was really mad. I’d been babysitting for him and his wife. And she should have been home hours ago. She made me miss a really important date with my girlfriend — or at least it seemed important at the time…. Now I’m not even sure she was cheating on him…. I mean I’m pretty sure she did in the past…. I know I wasn’t totally wrong….  So it looks as if my parents are going to have to raise the children. My sister’s busy with her own kids and I’m away at college most of the time…. Everything’s been dumped on my mom and I don’t think she’s up to it — her or my dad, either one. I don’t think they’ll ever be the same after this…. So anyhow, I prayed to God for forgiveness.  And I honestly believe it might have worked….  Oh, it’s not like I got an answer in plain English, of course.  But…don’t you think? Don’t you think I’m forgiven? I mean, I thought God forgives everything. But I just don’t feel forgiven.

Pastor Emmett: Ian, you can’t just say, “I’m sorry, God.” Why anyone could do that much! You have to offer reparation — concrete, practical reparation, according to the rules of the church. Jesus helps us do what we can’t undo. But only after we’ve tried to undo it. You, for instance, could begin by raising the children.

Ian: Raising the children? But I’m only a freshman? I’m away at college most of the time.

Pastor Emmett: “Then maybe you should drop out.”

Ian: Drop out? Drop out of college? …This is some kind of test, isn’t it?

Pastor Emmett: Ian, it’s not that simple. But God does want to know how far you’ll go to undo the harm you’ve done…. How else would God know?

Ian: Wait. You’re saying God would want me to change all my plans and give up my education?”  …That’s crazy! I’d have to be crazy! I can’t take on a bunch of kids!  Who do you think I am?  I’m nineteen years old! What kind of religion is this?

Pastor Emmett: It’s the religion of atonement and complete forgiveness…. It’s the religion of the Second Chance.

There's a rub here.

With video and The People of the Second Chance, it seems like the forgiveness, the second chance is completely free, nothing required, pure grace.  Could it be "too cheap?"

With Pastor Emmett and "The Church of the Second Chance," it seems like forgiveness has strings attached, is costly.  Could it not be "free enough?"

I struggle with this. 

I want to live in the forgiveness and grace of God but I'm not sure how much that forgiveness should cost me so that there is a purging of my sins, so that I can more readily be able to receive the gift that is given.  This has always been a struggle for me.  I've always struggled with forgiveness. I think going back to my childhood it's been a struggle for me.  I've always been more comfortable showing grace than receiving it.

So, how can I receive the free...but not cheap...grace of our God?

Or, the question I prefer to ask, how can I offer it to others?

Oh, victory in Jesus, My Savior forever
He sought me and bought me with His redeeming blood

He loved me ere I knew Him and all my love is due Him
He plunged me to victory beneath the cleansing flood

Image by doug88888 via Flickr

Much of what outsiders struggle with when it comes to church and Christianity is an imagined level of performance they assume is required of those on the inside. People think a certain behavior level is expected– a kind of incorrect thinking that keeps out the very people for whom the gospel of Jesus Christ exists. This is what keeps single moms away from church, even when they want to come and desperately need friendship and support. This is what keeps out gays and lesbians who are genuinely seeking God. This is what keeps out those who have had abortions, and the men who have caused them. Not to mention recovering addicts, ex-cons, the poor, the homeless, the mentally challenged. It’s starting to look like the crowd that followed Jesus around when he was here – lepers, the deranged, demon possessed, the blind, the lame, and the social misfits.

The church's incessant desire for moralism, this assumed standard of behavior, can make it impossible, not only for the message of grace to be heard but for it even to be proclaimed.  Where is grace when we tell societal riff-raff that they need to change their ways before they can become "one of us?"

Image via WikipediaThe first part of this week I posted and entry called, "Have A Nice Ride: A Story of a Bike Ride, A Big Dog, and Grace."   The Cliff-Notes Version of the story is as follows:

• I was going out for a bike ride
• A big dog who had chased folks in the neighborhood before now chased me
• I was furious and scared and yelled at the dog and told the woman at the home that the dog "better be tied up or someone's gonna' do it for him"
• I was surprised at the level of my anger
• The woman apologized and said, "Have a nice ride" when I was in no mood to receive a kind word
• I actually did have a nice ride, but it took me 20 miles to calm down enough to appreciate her words of grace when I wasn't ready to accept it.

There.

Well, yesterday I saw the young woman and her children.  It's the first time I'd seen her out and about and I had been watching for her.  I wanted to tell her "thank you" for offering a kind word when I was too mad to even recognize the kindness she was offering.  So, I went up to her and told her that very thing.  I told her that I truly appreciated her telling me to have a nice ride and that I actually DID have a nice ride and, most importantly, how much I appreciated her offering me a word of grace when, from my anger, it was clear that it could not be received at that point.  I told her that it was a good lesson for me and that she provided me a great sermon illustration about offering grace to those who won't be able to offer it back.

She apologized for the dog.

We made small talk about other things.

We talked about our kids.

It was humbling.

What a difference 10 days and no dog nipping at my heels makes.

I was glad I was able to share with her.

It was the following quote I found tonight that made me reflect more about this incident:

“Grace is love that seeks you out when you have nothing to give in return. Grace is love coming at you that has nothing to do with you. Grace is being loved when you are unlovable.”

- Paul Zahl

"Grace is being loved when you are unlovable."  That's right.

Now comes the hard part....  Who is it in my community that I'm called to grace?

photo © 2007 Javier Prazak | more info (via: Wylio)



Last week I was headed out for a bicycle ride.  That, in and of itself, is not unusual.  But, it had been about 6 days since I had gone on a good ride because of my schedule with a work team here and lots of baseball games to attend for my daughter.  So I was really pumped about going.  I was excited.  I had the time to spend 2.5 hours riding and I was ready.  I got on my biking clothes, my biking shoes, my biking glasses, my biking gloves, my helmet...everything.  And I hopped on.

I started off down the street.  We live on a hill so I can hit a pretty good speed just down from our house.  I was off.

But...then...a dog came at me.

This was a brown pit-bull dog.  It's a big dog.  This is new to our street as we have some new neighbors who have some friends who come and bring their dogs and leave them untied out in front of their house.  Loose dogs are a dime a dozen in our community.  Yes, there is a leash law.  But, when you're 45 minutes from Anchorage, it's more of a suggestion than a law.  And, really, most dogs who are off leash are quite well behaved and problems are rare. 

The neighbors have only been here a few weeks, really, and already these dogs have a reputation on the street as being aggressive.  No, they haven't actually bitten anyone or any other dogs as far as I know.  But at least 4 other people have been chased by the dogs when walking on past or riding bikes or whatever.  One neighbor has taken to going a "back way" through the woods to avoid the dogs.  I had been chased a little by the two dogs before, but yelling at them drove them away quickly.  That time I was headed up hill on my bike and, therefore, going v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y.

However, this time I was going by fast and the dog came at me fast.  This dog did not have a "hey-biking-looks-like-fun-would-you-take-me-with-you" approach.  Hackles were raised.  Teeth were bared.  And the dog was on my heels quick. 

It's amazing what happened to my emotions.  It was instantaneous.  Immediately I was furious.  I could feel the anger burst within me.  And I was scared.  I could feel the adrenaline kick into gear and I SLAMMED on the brakes, nearly falling off the bike (thank God I hadn't clipped my shoes into the pedals yet).   I dropped the bike to the ground after leaving a thirty foot skid mark on the dirt road.

I turned to the dog and I yelled.  I yelled loudly.  I'm sure I had an ugly face.  "NO.  NO.  NO.  NOT TODAY YOU DON'T.  YOU WILL NOT CHASE ME.  YOU WILL NOT DO THIS.  NO.  NO.  NO."  And I aggressively moved the dog back to his house.  (I might have mentioned that I was mad.)

And I was going to tell SOMEONE that this was NOT acceptable.  By this time a young woman with four young children appeared on the porch.  I know her.  I know the kids.  And I left no room for doubt at how mad I was.  I yelled, "THIS CAN'T HAPPEN.  THESE DOGS HAVE TO BE TIED UP OR SOMEONE ELSE IS GOING TO DO IT FOR THEM.  THEY CAN'T CHASE EVERYONE WHO COMES UP OR DOWN THIS STREET.  IT CAN'T HAPPEN.  IT'S NOT SAFE."

The woman, mother to a couple of the kids I think, said they weren't even her dogs but she'd tell the owner...who was coming by frequently and leaving the dogs out.  She said they were "nice dogs."

I didn't respond to this, but I'm sure in my head I said, "I'M SURE THEY'RE NICE TO YOU.   I'M SURE THEY'RE CUDDLY AND GOOD WITH THE KIDS.  BUT NICE DOG DON'T AGGRESSIVELY CHASE PEOPLE, MAKING NEIGHBORS FEEL UNSAFE."  I didn't say this.  Perhaps I wanted to.  I was becoming surprised at how mad I was feeling.

THEN, at this point, I started feeling guilty at how mad I was and how I had expressed all of what was going on.  There I was, standing there, looking at the young kids and wondering how I appeared to them.  I'm a pastor.  I'm sure I didn't have a very pastoral face.  I said, "Look, I apologize for being as livid as I am.  But these dogs have scared me and it's not the first time.  It needs to change."  I was furious.  But at least I was calm enough not to yell now.

Then she said it.  She said, "Have a nice ride."

Those words didn't sink in until I had gone about 20 miles or so -- and, with my adrenaline pumping because of the dog, they were the fastest 20 miles I'd ever had.  But on the way back home I realized how gracious those words were when I was as angry as I was.  It may have taken 20 miles, but the words were disarming.  I was touched by them.  Each time I've been by the house I've looked to see if the woman is there to tell her thanks for kind words when I was not even in a state of mind to receive them.  And I want to tell her that, despite how it began, it was a "nice ride."

So, I'm thinking...

This has given me a lot to think of.

I've had some talks with neighbors about my confrontation with the dog.  I'm not the only one who's said something.  I feel bad about how adrenaline and fear and anger moved me to a pretty ugly place very quickly, but everyone I've talked with has said those feeling are very natural when in a situation like that.  I don't know.

But...I know that I have not seen those dogs outside for a few days.

Well, this morning I sat down to go over my RSS feeds, using Feedly (which taps into Google Reader).  And, LO AND BEHOLD I FIND ROB BELL.  Not just a little Rob Bell, but A LOT of Rob Bell.  Rob Bell, for those who don't know, is the Pastor at Mars Hill Church in Michigan and behind the very popular Nooma videos (which we've used at Girdwood Chapel) and the Velvet Elvis Book (which I really enjoyed).

Well, he has a new book out called Love Wins and it's causing quite a stir as it appears that Rob either enters in to UNIVERSALISM or at least touches on it, perhaps saying that God's love is so big that hell is an empty place.  Let's be clear.  I've not read the book.  I'll probably read it after it's out next month.  So, all I'm doing now is reading reviews--by people who have not even read the book but all have their opinions.

But, I've been known to get my toes up to the line of universalism, but never able to cross over.  I want hell to be a small place because the grace of Christ is so big but I put my trust in God to make the final designation, knowing it will be good and just.  The words of one of my professors, Geoffrey Wainwright, still rings in my ears:

It may or may not be Christian to be universalist.  It is definitely NOT Christian to not want to be one.

There's a lot going on here.  Is universalism heretical?  What does our understanding of hell tell us about God?  Are Jews who were killed by Hitler, now with Hitler in hell?  Does God's holiness demand that hell is a big place and heaven for a select few?  Are those who believe in universalism damned to eternal fire? 

Hey, these are big questions.

So, it is with great anticipation that I saw all of these links today.

First, the cartoon above from Naked Pastor.

Second, an account of how the media has spread this from Challies.

Third, a post from Hacking Christianity which reflects on an anti-condemnation book getting condemned.

Fourth, Rachel Held Evans says Bell is asking some good questions that people are already asking:

Will only a few select people make it into heaven?

How does one become one of these few?

Are people like Ghandi and Anne Frank really in hell, along with millions and millions of other people?

Do we need a loving Jesus to rescue us from a hateful God?   Is this what the gospel is all about?

Is the gospel good news or bad news?

What is the essence of God's character?

Fifth, over at Connexions in Wales, one comment on a post says:

The early church seemed eager to excommunicate people over such matters as having the wrong tonsure. You’d think we might have learned something since then. Apparently not. Pharisaic Orthodoxy is so much easier to try than Christian love and grace, it appears.

Sixth, a more critical (and theological one) from Trevin Wax.  Read the comments to see how it shakes up.

And, lastly, from Justin Taylor and The Gospel Coalition, another critical look at Rob Bell's potential universalism.

Look, all of this is before the book has been released.

But I think we have here the classic debate between holiness and hospitality.  They are both good.  And I sometimes find it hard to camp out in the middle.

We'll find out more after the book release on March 29th.

Image via WikipediaI thought this was good.  It's always nice to hear Bono talk theologically.  He may be a pop star.  But he's a Christian.

(This is from over at The Poached Egg)



Bono: Yes, I think that's normal. It's a mind-blowing concept that the God who created the universe might be looking for company, a real relationship with people, but the thing that keeps me on my knees is the difference between Grace and Karma.

Assayas: I haven't heard you talk about that.

Bono: I really believe we've moved out of the realm of Karma into one of Grace.

Assayas: Well, that doesn't make it clearer for me.

Bono: You see, at the center of all religions is the idea of Karma. You know, what you put out comes back to you: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth, or in physics; in physical laws every action is met by an equal or an opposite one. It's clear to me that Karma is at the very heart of the universe. I'm absolutely sure of it. And yet, along comes this idea called Grace to upend all that "as you reap, so you will sow" stuff. Grace defies reason and logic. Love interrupts, if you like, the consequences of your actions, which in my case is very good news indeed, because I've done a lot of stupid stuff.

Assayas: I'd be interested to hear that.

Bono: That's between me and God. But I'd be in big trouble if Karma was going to finally be my judge. I'd be in deep s---. It doesn't excuse my mistakes, but I'm holding out for Grace. I'm holding out that Jesus took my sins onto the Cross, because I know who I am, and I hope I don't have to depend on my own religiosity.

Assayas: The Son of God who takes away the sins of the world. I wish I could believe in that.

Bono: But I love the idea of the Sacrificial Lamb. I love the idea that God says: Look, you cretins, there are certain results to the way we are, to selfishness, and there's a mortality as part of your very sinful nature, and, let's face it, you're not living a very good life, are you? There are consequences to actions. The point of the death of Christ is that Christ took on the sins of the world, so that what we put out did not come back to us, and that our sinful nature does not reap the obvious death. That's the point. It should keep us humbled . It's not our own good works that get us through the gates of heaven.

Image via WikipediaThe children and I once looked at photos of the dead Dead Sea, and we read how the Jordan River streams into the sea and nothing flows out of the sea and the salt content rises and everything dies. I think of this. That fullness grows foul. Grace is alive, living waters. If I dam up the grace, hold the blessings tight, joy within dies ... waters that have no life.


I turn my hand over, spread my fingers open. I receive grace. And through me, grace could flow on. Like a cycle of water in continuous movement, grace is meant to fall, a rain ... again, again, again. I could share the grace, multiply the joy, extend the table of the feast, enlarge the paradise of His presence. I am blessed. I can bless. A life contemplating the blessings of Christ becomes a life acting the love of Christ...

A Thursday morning, I flip pancakes and the phone rings. The youth pastor. I don’t have children old enough to even be in youth group. He wonders if I’m interested in serving with our youth group for a weekend on the streets of Toronto. I remember the streets of Toronto. My first panic attack was on those streets, city that choked me tight. I was then the age of many of the kids in youth I’d be chaperoning. Could I go back, live full on those same streets, now be full of His grace? Was this the way I might bless? And is any opportunity we are given to let the fullness of grace flow on, the opportunity we always should take? ... The call seems from God. I say yes. Yes!
This is my place, openhanded.

Who could have known how grace would fall and on whom? 

-One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are, by Ann Voskamp

Image via WikipediaJust today I read a blog post by Tullian Tchividjian of Coral Ridge Presbyterian Church in Fort Lauderdale, Florida that had a wonderful illustration about a duck.  It's an illustration of grace and forgiveness and, of course, a duck.


I tried to see if I could find where that story comes from.  It's been used by several different pastors and even by a Muslim website.  I did, however, find one source that actually lists a citation. 


Here's that version of the story along with a citation:

Richard Hoefler, in his book WILL DAYLIGHT COME? (1979, C S S Publishing Company), tells about two young children visiting their grandparents for the summer. Johnny was given his first slingshot. He practiced shooting in the woods, but missed everything he aimed at.
 
As he returned to Grandma's back yard, however, he spied her pet duck. It wasn't the only duck she kept, but it was her favorite. On an impulse he took aim and let it fly. This time he didn't miss. His stone struck and killed the duck.

The boy panicked. He didn't mean to hurt the bird -- he was even sure he'd miss! But he had killed it. His panic grew to desperation and he hid the duck in the woodpile, only to look up and see his sister. Sally had seen it all, but she said nothing to her grandparents.
 
After lunch that day Grandma said, "Sally, let's wash the dishes." Sally said, "Johnny told me he wanted to help in the kitchen today. Didn't you Johnny?" She whispered to him, "Remember the duck." (Blackmailed by his sister!) So Johnny did the dishes.

Later Grandpa asked if the children wanted to go fishing. Grandma said, "I'm sorry, but I need Sally to help make supper." Sally smiled  and said, "That's all taken care of, Johnny wants to do it." Again she whispered, "Remember the duck." Johnny stayed while Sally went fishing.

Johnny did both his chores and Sally's for several days, and could stand it no longer. He confessed to Grandma that he'd killed the duck.

She said, "I know Johnny." She gave him a big hug and added, "I was standing at the window and saw the whole thing. But because I love you, I forgave you. I just wondered how long you would let Sally make a slave of you."

His grandmother was more ready to forgive then he was even to ask for forgiveness. Similarly, we are surrounded by more grace than we may realize. But a disturbing inner voice often whispers, "Remember the duck. Remember the duck." Some people live their whole lives enslaved by the voice that says, "Remember the duck." They never let themselves be forgiven!

They don't know the meaning of deep peace. They are seldom free of guilt and feel as if happiness only comes to others more deserving.

What does it matter if the whole world were to love us, and accept us in spite of our failings, if we persist in feeling badly? Are you sick of feeling sick about the mistakes of your past?
 
Maybe it's time to forget the duck! After you've done all you can to rectify the past, then it's time to put it down. Forget the duck -- and be free.

We, as a people are so fond of "remembering ducks."  We hold onto our own sins and the sins of others like some trophies that we can't put down or scarlet letters we can't take off. 

I don't know what it is inside of me, but those closest to me know that I have a hard time offering grace to myself.  I can get all bent out of shape over sin in my life.  I have this innate desire to please and any failure hits me hard.  Again, I don't know why that's the case.  It just is.  Am I waiting on a more sincere repentance?  Why is it so hard just to accept the grace that Christ offers to us?

But then, for those of us inside the church, we need to be aware of how often we turn our faith into some sort of moral code that can't handle any wavering from the narrow road as outlined by the Bible or by our denomination or by our particular church.  Our scriptures are clear that God unconditionally forgives us.  He comes to us and dies for us. 

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 5:19, “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them.” Our sins aren't counted against us.  They are counted against Christ.  It's an act of love.  It's an act of grace.  It is a free gift of love.


As in that song, "Freely, Freely:"


    God forgave my sin in Jesus' name
    I've been born again in Jesus' name
    And in Jesus' name I come to you
    To share His love as He told me to

    He said: 'Freely, freely, you have received
    Freely, freely give
    Go in My name, and because you believe
    Others will know that I live.'

So, why is it then that we are so good at "remembering ducks?"

Let's live as a people who forget the ducks.

photo © 2009 Rian Castillo | more info (via: Wylio)

Image via WikipediaThis is my 11th year in Girdwood.  We've loved it here.  The church has been challenging and fun.  The construction project has been long and a valuable learning experience.  I think I've grown a lot here…as a person and a pastor.  We know this is the place that our kids (at least the three older ones) have grown up.  I often say that, as persons grow older, I think there's always some place that they think of as "home" to themselves…even if they may have lived in several different towns or states.  I may have been born in Massachusetts, I may have graduated high school in Indiana, I may have gone to seminary in North Carolina, and I may have lived in Alaska for the last 13 years, but I'm always clear that I "grew up in New York."  That's where I had my formative childhood years, from age 5-15,  Well, my kids will, maybe forever, say they grew up in Girdwood, Alaska.  How awesome is that?

Plus, Girdwood is just strikingly beautiful.  The mountains creep right in on you.  You can ski and watch the tide roll in.  And while we get a lot of rain, being that we're in the most northern temperate rain forest in the world, the beautiful days make up for it.  I still remember the first visit my parents made to Girdwood after our three years in Kenai.  I stood with my dad on the porch of our new home we were renting and he said, "You know, Jim, don't take this for granted.  You may never live in a more beautiful place than this."  And he's right.  There are a lot of beautiful places in the world and I've seen several of them.  But, I may never live in a more beautiful place than this.

I know that faith up in Alaska, in the realm of "rugged individualism," can be a difficult thing.  Persons here tend not to be "joiners" and many of them have been burned by churches in the Lower-48 where they used to live and are really hoping to stay as far away from church as they can.  Therefore, I have worked very hard to carry myself in such a way that I'd be seen as non-threatening in the community.  I've participated in the life of the community.  I've served on boards and attended meetings.  I've raised my kids, fully engaging the activities of the community for them.  And our congregation has worked very hard at being seen as a source of good in the community…we've painted and cleaned and shoveled and given and helped etc.  We want to be seen as a place that emanates the love of God, but in a way that works alongside those not in the church to bring about change for the common good.  The difference, we hope, between us and the non-Christians, is that we do it all out of a response to the justification by faith offered by Christ.  We live out out faith by being a people working on behalf of others in the community.  And it's made a difference.  It is easier to be me…a pastor…today than it was ten years ago.  I've been around long enough that persons, I don't think, feel like they have to be on their guard when they see me.

However…

Image by Armando Maynez via Flickr

Image via WikipediaRichard Hall, over at Connexions, in Britain, recalls a version of "Amazing Grace" if it were composed by Arminians and finds one as if it were composed by Calvinists -- in a satirical way.  He remembered part of it and then found the whole thing over at Challies. 

Arminianism, for those a little rusty, really stood apart from the Calvinists in believing that grace was resistible and that persons are not predestined to believe but believers are predestined to be with God.  (It's amazing what a little refresher in Wikipedia will bring).  People fought long and hard about this, with the Calvinists saying Arminians (including John Wesley) bordered on "works righteousness."  I recall a story of someone pointing out to Wesley the words of "Rock of Ages" saying, "NOTHING in my hand I bring, only to the cross I cling."  And I recall Wesley's critique of a traditional understanding of predestination, saying, "If predestination is really true, then why do I stand here preaching if it doesn't matter and it's all predetermined who will believe.  It was really Wesley's understanding of prevenient grace that stood at the border of these two theological perspectives.

As said above, there were a lot of heated arguments about these differences and you can still find them today.  So, it was with great interest and much giggling that I read Richard Hall's post at Connexions today which includes a theological smackdown between Arminiansm and Calvinism through parodies of "Amazing Grace."  These are funny.  But more, they get at theological critiques each side had/has of the others.

So, the (satirical) Amazing Grace for Arminians (found at Challies.com) is:

Arminian “grace!” How strange the sound,
Salvation hinged on me.
I once was lost then turned around,
Was blind then chose to see.

What “grace” is it that calls for choice,
Made from some good within?
That part that wills to heed God’s voice,
Proved stronger than my sin.

Thru many ardent gospel pleas,
I sat with heart of stone.
But then some hidden good in me,
Propelled me toward my home.

When we’ve been there ten thousand years,
Because of what we’ve done,
We’ve no less days to sing our praise,
Than when we first begun.

Nice, huh.  And while us good Arminian Methodist may say that this "works righteousness" version of "Amazing Grace" is a long way from how we really understand grace, I think it's imperative on us to hear the critiques and reaffirm that it is God who saves us and not something we do ourselves...and how it happens.

Richard Hall,  comes up with his own parody, poking fun at extreme Calvinism which often appears to make grace anything but "amazing" or "graceful."  In an extreme form, Calvinism can appear to put forth a distant and cantankerous God who randomly assign persons to heaven or hell on a whim.  There's no room for works, clearly, with this perspective, but it seems to remove all of life and faith from the equation as well. 

Here's Richard Hall's Calvinist rendition, with tongue firmly planted in cheek:

Amazing thought! You call it “grace”
That saves and damns at whim?
That blinds the lost, condemns a host
And turns them into toast?

Tis “grace” like this that makes me fear
This “grace” my fear inspires:
Whatever I may think or do
I’m fuel for his fires.

The dangers, trials and snares I see
Are all illusory:
I’m either picked before I’m born
Or else, I’m history!

The Lord has promised naught to me
If I’m not on his list
If this is grace, how bad’s the curse?
I’m going to get drunk. 

Richard Hall makes me think and has one of the more accessible and theological Wesleyan blogs out there.  He's a Methodist minister in Wales.  Well worth your time.

Image via Wikipedia

Here's a video of Todd Friel ripping into Adam Hamilton and his work "When Christians Get it Wrong."   Take it with a large grain of salt.



Please note a couple of things about this attack on Hamilton:

• The video he uses is taken completely out of context.
• Adam Hamilton is a believer in the saving grace of God, but as a good Methodist in the Spirit of John Wesley, believes that after being "Justified" by the saving grace of Christ, one is "Sanctified," again through the saving grace of Christ.  After the heart is "strangely warmed" comes the holy living of the life of faith.
• According to the gentleman in the video, loving God and loving others is works righteousness even though Hamilton never says that Christians are "saved" by those.

I believe it's Mr. Friel who "gets it wrong" here.  Isn't there some irony here?