I was listening to a sermon yesterday on the story of Nicodemus (John 3) and I have been thinking since hearing that story again about the cliches that Christians throw around without much thought to their actual meaning. In this particular passage, a term is introduced that is a part of Western Christianity in ways that I don't think Jesus ever intended. That term, the one many have grown to love and many others have grown to hate, is "Born Again"
In this story, Jesus tells Nicodemus, "unless one is born again he cannot see the kingdom of God" (John 3:3, emphasis mine). And so, Christians are 'born again'. Nicodemus' response is classic in that he is kind of grossed out by the whole womb re-entry picture. See, Nicodemus takes Jesus literally, at his word, while Jesus is speaking metaphorically (although Jesus never actually tells Nicodemus that he's not referring to a literal rebirth, I don't think it would require too much biblical scholarship to recognize Jesus' figurative language).
Here's what struck me: Nicodemus was one of the religious guys. He went to church every week and was an overall good guy. Most Christians today are like Nicodemus. Not only are many Christians religious like Nicodemus, many Christians take Jesus literally here. So we talk about being 'born again' and we post billboards and placards that tell the sinners and pagans that they 'must be born again'. And, like Nicodemus, they stand there and say, "No thanks."
While this phrase is part of our Christian lexicon, we have forgotten that it was a metaphor used in a one-off conversation that Jesus had with a particular individual. Just like when he told Peter that he would become a "fisher of men" (ooh, another entry in the Born Again lexicon). Jesus wasn't dropping taglines or cool catchphrases, he was simply relating the eternal truth to people in a specific setting at a specific time.
Jesus never intended for these statements to be what they are today. Jesus was being relevant at a particular time and place. And that's what Jesus is calling us to today. Jesus wants us to follow his lead to proclaim that truth in ways that are relevant in our particular time and place
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Euclidean Theology (Living at the Intersection)
Well, it's been a while! I admit, I've been slacking on the old blog-front.
I have experienced some pretty cool conversations with a bunch of different people since returning from Honduras . It always amazes me how, as we relate the things that we have been learning along the way, we all intersect at certain points along the journey. As I have been relating some of my experiences in Central America, I have had so many comments from different people who identify and who are encouraged in their own journey as my story intersects with theirs. And it is at that intersection point where I think God is asking all of us to live.
After I shared some of my experiences in my sermon on Sunday, I had someone come up to me and talk about how it would be great if we could all live on that plane. The world seems to drag us down to a plane that is at a lower level, but God is calling us to live our lives on a higher plane. It's true, God calls us to a different type of living. And the life that God desires for us is on a different level than any of us really experience.
But as I've been thinking of this planar (Euclidean) geometry view of spirituality, the dust gets blown off of the old math lessons from college (yes, I was a math-geek until the Lord delivered me! He healed me from math-geekiness and now I'm not a math-geek anymore; just a regular geek). See, in Euclidean geometry, planes (like lines) can be parallel or they can intersect. Spiritually, I think we often view the spiritual plane as parallel and above the physical plane. And following Jesus means porting over from the lower plane to the higher plane. The more I think about this, the less I feel it. The story of Jesus is the story of intersection. Jesus lived his life at the intersection of the divine and the human. At the intersection of justice and mercy. At the intersection of spiritual and physical.
What I think is that, because of God's grace, the "spiritual" plane and the "physical" plane intersect. If I am a follower of Christ, then my job isn't to try to jump to another plane so that I can look down on those who aren't spiritual enough to make it. Rather, like Jesus, I find the place where those planes intersect and I run along that line. When my journey takes me along the line of intersection, then that line will also take me through the planes where others are living and God will use that point of intersection to encourage them to walk along their journey.
That might sound weird (or technical; or weird AND technical) but the bottom line is this: following Christ isn't about trying to bump it up a level (Christ brings life to another level without me trying). Rather, following Christ is about living life in that place where His purpose for our lives intersects with the reality of the place where he has put us. It's about finding ways to love the people he has placed in our lives. It's about serving others and showing compassion in his name.
Jesus is calling me, and all of us who live in him, to live at the intersection.
Because Jesus himself is at the intersection.
I have experienced some pretty cool conversations with a bunch of different people since returning from Honduras . It always amazes me how, as we relate the things that we have been learning along the way, we all intersect at certain points along the journey. As I have been relating some of my experiences in Central America, I have had so many comments from different people who identify and who are encouraged in their own journey as my story intersects with theirs. And it is at that intersection point where I think God is asking all of us to live.
After I shared some of my experiences in my sermon on Sunday, I had someone come up to me and talk about how it would be great if we could all live on that plane. The world seems to drag us down to a plane that is at a lower level, but God is calling us to live our lives on a higher plane. It's true, God calls us to a different type of living. And the life that God desires for us is on a different level than any of us really experience.
But as I've been thinking of this planar (Euclidean) geometry view of spirituality, the dust gets blown off of the old math lessons from college (yes, I was a math-geek until the Lord delivered me! He healed me from math-geekiness and now I'm not a math-geek anymore; just a regular geek). See, in Euclidean geometry, planes (like lines) can be parallel or they can intersect. Spiritually, I think we often view the spiritual plane as parallel and above the physical plane. And following Jesus means porting over from the lower plane to the higher plane. The more I think about this, the less I feel it. The story of Jesus is the story of intersection. Jesus lived his life at the intersection of the divine and the human. At the intersection of justice and mercy. At the intersection of spiritual and physical.
What I think is that, because of God's grace, the "spiritual" plane and the "physical" plane intersect. If I am a follower of Christ, then my job isn't to try to jump to another plane so that I can look down on those who aren't spiritual enough to make it. Rather, like Jesus, I find the place where those planes intersect and I run along that line. When my journey takes me along the line of intersection, then that line will also take me through the planes where others are living and God will use that point of intersection to encourage them to walk along their journey.
That might sound weird (or technical; or weird AND technical) but the bottom line is this: following Christ isn't about trying to bump it up a level (Christ brings life to another level without me trying). Rather, following Christ is about living life in that place where His purpose for our lives intersects with the reality of the place where he has put us. It's about finding ways to love the people he has placed in our lives. It's about serving others and showing compassion in his name.
Jesus is calling me, and all of us who live in him, to live at the intersection.
Because Jesus himself is at the intersection.
Thursday, June 26, 2008
On My Way
Tomorrow I leave for a week of ministry in Central America. It's the first time I've been able to bring one of my children on a trip like this with me. It has always been a priority for my wife and myself to do something like this with our kids when we had the chance. The chance came up and now, as it gets closer, although I am very excited to have her with me, I am concerned with how a nine year-old can process poverty and injustice and exploitation.
It's one thing to have a nice trip to the Caribbean, it's another thing altogether when we're spending time with children who have contracted HIV through child prostitution. How does an adult come to grips with that, let alone a child?
I pray for her that the stuff she sees will make her compassionate and angry at the same time. I pray that this changes her to the core and that she adopts Christ's love for these people. And I pray that she can understand that this shouldn't be and she and I are not powerless to stop it.
I will post again when I return...
It's one thing to have a nice trip to the Caribbean, it's another thing altogether when we're spending time with children who have contracted HIV through child prostitution. How does an adult come to grips with that, let alone a child?
I pray for her that the stuff she sees will make her compassionate and angry at the same time. I pray that this changes her to the core and that she adopts Christ's love for these people. And I pray that she can understand that this shouldn't be and she and I are not powerless to stop it.
I will post again when I return...
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
'This New Idea of Evangelism'
Every morning, the National Post lands on my driveway and, from time to time, I have (or take) the time to actually read it. Most often, I turn all the pages and wait for something to catch my eye. Not surprisingly, generally any article that remotely references faith or spirituality gets my undivided attention (perhaps more surprisingly is the fact that every article on the political unrest in Zimbabwe also gets my undivided attention, but we'll save comment on that for another day).
With that in mind, an article in Thursday's paper ("Will United Church 'throw in the towel?'") caught my attention so I read every word with fascination. The article was highlighting a conference that the United Church (UCC) had going on over the weekend. When Canada's largest protestant denomination asks that question, enquiring minds like mine want to know. Now, obviously I know the answer to that question is 'No' (after all, I'm astute enough to realize that the very people who are asking that question would put themselves out of work and so they've got interest beyond the Kingdom of God here! They've got mortgages to pay and families to feed!).
The Post followed up after the conference in yesterday's paper with another front-page story ("Facing the Gospel Truth") with an answer I wasn't expecting. The UCC needs to embrace an idea that they have long shunned: evangelism. Now, to be fair, the reason I wasn't expecting it isn't because they have shunned it so long. The reason I was surprised that evangelism is the solution to the decline of the attendance at UCC churches is because evangelism isn't the solution to internal problems. In the spirit of full-disclosure, I was neither at the event, nor am I a member of a UCC church. As an outsider, however, the article in The Post left me with three basic observations:
With that in mind, an article in Thursday's paper ("Will United Church 'throw in the towel?'") caught my attention so I read every word with fascination. The article was highlighting a conference that the United Church (UCC) had going on over the weekend. When Canada's largest protestant denomination asks that question, enquiring minds like mine want to know. Now, obviously I know the answer to that question is 'No' (after all, I'm astute enough to realize that the very people who are asking that question would put themselves out of work and so they've got interest beyond the Kingdom of God here! They've got mortgages to pay and families to feed!).
The Post followed up after the conference in yesterday's paper with another front-page story ("Facing the Gospel Truth") with an answer I wasn't expecting. The UCC needs to embrace an idea that they have long shunned: evangelism. Now, to be fair, the reason I wasn't expecting it isn't because they have shunned it so long. The reason I was surprised that evangelism is the solution to the decline of the attendance at UCC churches is because evangelism isn't the solution to internal problems. In the spirit of full-disclosure, I was neither at the event, nor am I a member of a UCC church. As an outsider, however, the article in The Post left me with three basic observations:
- What part of "go and make disciples of all nations" are we not understanding here? I mean, how does such a large group of people who claim to follow Jesus get so far away from the last words of Christ to those of us who follow him? Evangelism isn't a program to implement, nor is it the latest and greatest fad in ministry. It just comes out of what Jesus has done.
- Why are we afraid to talk about the good news? By definition, "evangelism" is "telling the good news". That shouldn't instill fear in us. When a young couple has their first child, they don't wonder whether or not they should "evangelize" about the birth of their child; it's good news so they tell anyone and everyone!
- Evangelism isn't about self-preservation. The fact that evangelism was tabled as the solution to the UCC's problem of declining attendance is more than a little unsettling. Jesus didn't send us out to go and make disciples so that our little corner of organized religion can last a little longer. He sent us out to go and make disciples because he is the very embodiment of good news. In a world without hope and purpose and meaning beyond what we can see and feel and touch today, he brings life and joy and hope and peace and goodness. That's good news for a world in such desperate need of good news. Jesus (and, since the church is the 'body of Christ', the church is by extension) the hope of the world. That's what evangelism is about. It's about loving and making a difference in the lives of others. Not about turning the tide on church attendance.
The most telling quote from the article came toward the very end, when one of the executive ministers "said he doesn't know how much of the Church is committed to this new idea of evangelism." Those five words, 'this new idea of evangelism'! Jesus sent out his disciples to evangelize long before they ever organized themselves into a church. So, ironically, evangelism is actually an older idea than the Church iteself (let alone any particular denomination, like the United Church of Canada)!
Wednesday, June 18, 2008
Seeking the Prosperity of the City
"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper." (Jeremiah 29:7)
I remember where I was the first time I really grabbed this verse. I was sitting in an attick office three two stories above Spring Garden Road in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I'm sure I had brushed over this verse at some point in my life on a cursory reading of the Bible, but this time I heard these words and those words meant something.
Fast forward more than a decade to last week. I was walking down St. Paul Street, here in St. Catharines and those eight words were screaming in my head: "Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..." As I was walking, I was reminded of the time when, as a teenager, St. Paul Street was a legitimate shopping destination. I remember when the decision was whether to shop at the Pen Centre or downtown, on St. Paul Street. And just 15-20 years later, I walk down that same street to see almost a third of the storefronts for sale or lease, with another third looking like their on the verge of closing.
"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..."
As I walked, I prayed Jeremiah 29:7 over and over. In a previous post, I talked about seeing the city and last week, after writing that post, I saw St. Paul Street again for the first time. And it hurt, quite frankly. It didn't hurt because it looks run down. It hurt because I felt what God felt as He walks down St. Paul Street. He hurts because people who live and do business on and walk down St. Paul Street hurt.
As His Church, may we seek the peace and prosperity of this great city. It is so easy to see all the faults and the ugliness like St. Paul Street or . It is also easy to brush past it and focus on the greatness and beauty. But God asks us to do neither: He asks us to seek the peace and the prosperity of St. Catharines. Why? Because if St. Catharines prospers, we too will prosper.
I remember where I was the first time I really grabbed this verse. I was sitting in an attick office three two stories above Spring Garden Road in Halifax, Nova Scotia. I'm sure I had brushed over this verse at some point in my life on a cursory reading of the Bible, but this time I heard these words and those words meant something.
Fast forward more than a decade to last week. I was walking down St. Paul Street, here in St. Catharines and those eight words were screaming in my head: "Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..." As I was walking, I was reminded of the time when, as a teenager, St. Paul Street was a legitimate shopping destination. I remember when the decision was whether to shop at the Pen Centre or downtown, on St. Paul Street. And just 15-20 years later, I walk down that same street to see almost a third of the storefronts for sale or lease, with another third looking like their on the verge of closing.
"Seek the peace and prosperity of the city..."
As I walked, I prayed Jeremiah 29:7 over and over. In a previous post, I talked about seeing the city and last week, after writing that post, I saw St. Paul Street again for the first time. And it hurt, quite frankly. It didn't hurt because it looks run down. It hurt because I felt what God felt as He walks down St. Paul Street. He hurts because people who live and do business on and walk down St. Paul Street hurt.
As His Church, may we seek the peace and prosperity of this great city. It is so easy to see all the faults and the ugliness like St. Paul Street or . It is also easy to brush past it and focus on the greatness and beauty. But God asks us to do neither: He asks us to seek the peace and the prosperity of St. Catharines. Why? Because if St. Catharines prospers, we too will prosper.
Tuesday, June 10, 2008
Seeing is Weeping
Last week, I went around the city with a video camera to get a picture of the city. As I was driving and walking with a camera, I spent most of the time in prayer for the people of our city. I simply asked God to open my eyes to the city; to let me see people the way He sees them. Largely, I have been impacted by this one verse (and, interestingly, Ed used it in his sermon this past Sunday): “When he [Jesus] drew near and saw the city, he wept over it.” (Luke 19:41)
The truth in that verse that grabbed me is that, until I weep over the city, I am not near enough to it, nor am I truly seeing the city. So, in answer to my prayer, God showed me stuff that I’ve never seen before.
First of all, there is a stronghold of individuality in this city, which translates into loneliness. Especially downtown, but even broader as well. People feel lonely. We know that already in our church as people have stated that they ‘feel disconnected.’ This seems ironic in the church because so much effort is put to programs and events that will help people connect, but the truth is that most people still don't feel a deep connection with others. What God showed me is that we have been good at putting people into closer proximity to others. However, people in St. Catharines are sitting by themselves in agonizing loneliness.
Another thing that God showed me is that this city is marked by pursuit. This might be normal in most North American cities, but I saw it last week. See, people are trying desperately to fill that emptiness with...something; anything!
These were both illustrated to me by a stark visual. But what was weird is that I saw the same visual twice, in two different parts of the city. On two separate occasions, God pointed me to people sitting on the end of a park bench, by themselves, while others walked past without noticing them. In both of these circumstances, there was something of high value in the same frame (in one, a thirty-something foot sailboat was docked directly in front of the person; and in the other, a high-end car was parked across the street).
In our city, people are lonely but often try to hide the feelings with other pursuits. Some pursue stuff, while others pursue activities. When Jesus sees our city, he weeps because he is here to fill that emptiness. And Jesus is beginning to show me how he sees this city. And he's showing me what he is weeping about.
May I see more.
...and may I weep more.
The truth in that verse that grabbed me is that, until I weep over the city, I am not near enough to it, nor am I truly seeing the city. So, in answer to my prayer, God showed me stuff that I’ve never seen before.
First of all, there is a stronghold of individuality in this city, which translates into loneliness. Especially downtown, but even broader as well. People feel lonely. We know that already in our church as people have stated that they ‘feel disconnected.’ This seems ironic in the church because so much effort is put to programs and events that will help people connect, but the truth is that most people still don't feel a deep connection with others. What God showed me is that we have been good at putting people into closer proximity to others. However, people in St. Catharines are sitting by themselves in agonizing loneliness.
Another thing that God showed me is that this city is marked by pursuit. This might be normal in most North American cities, but I saw it last week. See, people are trying desperately to fill that emptiness with...something; anything!
These were both illustrated to me by a stark visual. But what was weird is that I saw the same visual twice, in two different parts of the city. On two separate occasions, God pointed me to people sitting on the end of a park bench, by themselves, while others walked past without noticing them. In both of these circumstances, there was something of high value in the same frame (in one, a thirty-something foot sailboat was docked directly in front of the person; and in the other, a high-end car was parked across the street).
In our city, people are lonely but often try to hide the feelings with other pursuits. Some pursue stuff, while others pursue activities. When Jesus sees our city, he weeps because he is here to fill that emptiness. And Jesus is beginning to show me how he sees this city. And he's showing me what he is weeping about.
May I see more.
...and may I weep more.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
On Failure
So, I have been in a long-term conversation with someone regarding this whole realm of becoming who God has made us to become. It goes without saying that it's easier said than done. I mean, we talk about dreams and vision and life-purpose and we love to quote Jeremiah 29:11. But when you feel trapped in a cycle of not seeing it happen, then what?
What happens then, I think, is that we look at our situation with skewed lenses. We look to extrinsic factors to motivate us, because we don't think we're in the right spot (and we very well might not be in the right spot, but that's a post for a different day!), so we look for any glimmer of encouragement we can find. And we're encouraged as long as all the externals point to 'success' (whatever that means!) but the emptiness just becomes more obvious when there is no sign of external success. When we try to do a good thing to help someone, but no one wants our help. When we put ourselves out there and we end up standing out there by ourselves. As we're standing there, holding the bag, we become frustrated; we feel like a failure; we make people feel guilty for not wanting to be a part of something so important.
As I look at Jesus, at the time of his death, every external indication pointed to failure. Jesus changed the life of every single person he met. And Mark tells us that, when Jesus was arrested, "They all left him and fled" (14:50). If anyone had a reason to make people feel guilty for abandoning him, it was Jesus: "Remember when you couldn't walk (or see, or hear, or speak, or...)? Yeah, well you're walking today because of me. Maybe you could show some appreciation!" If anyone had reason to be frustrated, it was Jesus. If Jesus was motivated extrinsically, he would have felt like a failure.
Yet this is Jesus at his highest point of success. This is Jesus fulfilling his mission on this earth. This is Jesus' passion.
In the church, so often, we measure everything externally. "Ooh, no one signed up for this community outreach; I guess they don't care about evangelism." Or, "Why doesn't anyone volunteer with the Junior High boys? Don't they care about this next generation?" Or, "We're offering this seminar/class but almost no one is coming; I guess they just don't want to grow in their faith like I do!" What would it look like if we measured everything by the same stick that Jesus did? First off, I think we would stop becoming frustrated and judgmental when we don't get the results we were hoping for. We wouldn't lay on the guilt for people who choose (for whatever reason) not to be a part of our thing. Instead, we would hold our heads high and say, "I believe God wanted me to do this and I am simply being faithful with it and letting Him do what He's going to do." Not only would we stop being judgmental, we wouldn't feel like a failure when we're stuck there all by ourselves. Our sense of success/failure would change. I am not a success because everybody wants to be a part of my thing. Nor am I a failure because nobody does. Reminder: Jesus' greatest success was shared by...NOBODY. Even his own Father, remember? "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mark 14:34)
But we never know what this lack of external success will look like down the road. We never know who will be impacted by our small act of faithfulness. We never know how our diligence with doing what seems to have nothing to do with that 'hope and future' that is promised in Jeremiah 29:11 will end up having everything to do with it.
What happens then, I think, is that we look at our situation with skewed lenses. We look to extrinsic factors to motivate us, because we don't think we're in the right spot (and we very well might not be in the right spot, but that's a post for a different day!), so we look for any glimmer of encouragement we can find. And we're encouraged as long as all the externals point to 'success' (whatever that means!) but the emptiness just becomes more obvious when there is no sign of external success. When we try to do a good thing to help someone, but no one wants our help. When we put ourselves out there and we end up standing out there by ourselves. As we're standing there, holding the bag, we become frustrated; we feel like a failure; we make people feel guilty for not wanting to be a part of something so important.
As I look at Jesus, at the time of his death, every external indication pointed to failure. Jesus changed the life of every single person he met. And Mark tells us that, when Jesus was arrested, "They all left him and fled" (14:50). If anyone had a reason to make people feel guilty for abandoning him, it was Jesus: "Remember when you couldn't walk (or see, or hear, or speak, or...)? Yeah, well you're walking today because of me. Maybe you could show some appreciation!" If anyone had reason to be frustrated, it was Jesus. If Jesus was motivated extrinsically, he would have felt like a failure.
Yet this is Jesus at his highest point of success. This is Jesus fulfilling his mission on this earth. This is Jesus' passion.
In the church, so often, we measure everything externally. "Ooh, no one signed up for this community outreach; I guess they don't care about evangelism." Or, "Why doesn't anyone volunteer with the Junior High boys? Don't they care about this next generation?" Or, "We're offering this seminar/class but almost no one is coming; I guess they just don't want to grow in their faith like I do!" What would it look like if we measured everything by the same stick that Jesus did? First off, I think we would stop becoming frustrated and judgmental when we don't get the results we were hoping for. We wouldn't lay on the guilt for people who choose (for whatever reason) not to be a part of our thing. Instead, we would hold our heads high and say, "I believe God wanted me to do this and I am simply being faithful with it and letting Him do what He's going to do." Not only would we stop being judgmental, we wouldn't feel like a failure when we're stuck there all by ourselves. Our sense of success/failure would change. I am not a success because everybody wants to be a part of my thing. Nor am I a failure because nobody does. Reminder: Jesus' greatest success was shared by...NOBODY. Even his own Father, remember? "My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?" (Mark 14:34)
But we never know what this lack of external success will look like down the road. We never know who will be impacted by our small act of faithfulness. We never know how our diligence with doing what seems to have nothing to do with that 'hope and future' that is promised in Jeremiah 29:11 will end up having everything to do with it.
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