New Beginnings

Modern Traveler: Ancient Journey

(ancientjourney.blogspot.com)

Our work and ministry with Christ Journey is progressing in amazing ways. Each day we find ourselves more and more engaged and invested in this community. Chris and I have spent a tremendous amount of time learning to work together, connecting with members of our community in Burleson and the surrounding area, and dreaming about how Christ Journey can continue to participate in the advancing Kingdom of God in this region. 

We recently unrolled a new website for Christ Journey at www.christjourneylife.com. This was part of a larger revisioning process where we have renewed CJ’s emphasis on existing as a network of house churches bringing life, light and hope to neighborhoods throughout the Burleson, Joshua, Crowley, Alvarado and south Fort Worth area…and who knows where else.

As part of this newness, I’ve decided to launch a new blog Modern Traveler: Ancient Journey which is found at ancientjourney.blogspot.com. I think this title captures what I’d like to do with my blog…and its also in blogger format which allows me to use one managing tool for both my personal blog and Christ Journey’s.

I’ll leave Deep Wells active but this will be my final post here. I’ve had several blogs over the past 5 years or so and its amazing that anyone has followed me from one to the next! As I make the pilgrimage to Modern Traveler: Ancient Journey, I invite you to join me as fellow travelers reflecting on this journey of life and faith.

Life in Suburbia

 

This may seem a bit obvious, but Chris and I have been spending a lot of time thinking about the suburbs lately. Its obvious (obviously) because we live and are planting churches in a suburb of Fort Worth, TX. 

A couple months ago we both read a book, Death by Suburb, that we felt addresses many of the issues that we and our community deal with on a regular basis. Toxins like the temptation to for every relationship to be transactional – based on an exchange of goods, services or some perceived benefit. We get our coffee from a drive-thru worker, not a person; we buy our groceries from a corporation and pay a cashier…no names required. Even our interactions with our Christ Journey family runs the risk of becoming transactional – I call you because you volunteered to read Scripture on Sunday or because you are a House Church Leader, not because I wanted to see how your doctor’s appointment went yesterday. That reminds me, I want to call somebody about their doctor’s appointment yesterday….

…Okay I’m back.

Transactional relationships, the inability to slow down, the temptation to define ourselves by what we do or have, the compulsion to have someone else’s life - to compete with our neighbors and define ourselves through “immortality symbols” such as new minivans, community service activities, successful kids, etc, – none of these things are unique to the ‘burbs, but many have unique expressions in suburban life. And we deal with all of them in one way or another.

Of course, our work here in Burleson is interesting in that we aren’t in an exclusively “typical” suburban area. There are sprawling McMansion neighborhoods to be sure, but there are also still plenty of “small town” and even “rural” areas, many of which found in the same zip code.

As we’ve continued to engage this suburban idea in our studies and conversations, we’ve come across some very helpful resources, including this article in Newsweek magazine (thanks for the link Chris!)

I couldn’t help but think of my time in the New Orleans area when reading that article. I typically say New Orleans when folks around here ask where we were in Louisiana. But to the locals, we were well outside of NOLA…we were on the Northshore. New Orleans is situated around the Mississippi River but is also held in place by Lake Pontchartrain (the huge oval shaped water feature on the southeast corner of a LA map). Across the 24 mile Causeway Bridge there is a growing “bedroom” community made up of several towns: Mandeville (where we lived), Madisonville, Covington, Lacombe, Abita Springs…and plenty other small communities.

MANY people drive across that bridge to the Southshore every day. New Orleans would be in serious trouble if it were not for the North Shore. And yet the various discussions of urban renewal and even church planting typically ignore or show mild neglect to the residents of St. Tammany Parish.

The Newsweek article addresses the reality that as the popularity and availability of suburban life increases, so does the existence of social concerns which many suburbanites tried to leave behind. One quote in particular said it well: 

The end of the (traditional) suburbs was inevitable. Hopeful, mobile Americans may once have thought they could leave behind the pressures, demands and compromises of city life. But social concerns inexorably follow society.

One of the things that Chris and I have wanted to be very intentional about in our Navigating the Suburban Wilderness series is to avoid telling people they should move to the country OR to the city. 

It seems that these options are often held up as the true choices for the person who doesn’t want to become a Stepford wife…or husband. “Move to the country and get back to your roots!” “Enjoy small town values with people you can trust.” “Experience the land again.” These are all great things – I come from the country and enjoyed these aspects of my upbringing.

“Return to the cities and stop ignoring the poor!” “Jesus wouldn’t live in the burbs, he’d be in the city where the oppressed and forgotten live.” “If you want real character and personality, you have to experience city life…suburbs are too sterile.” There is a deep pull in my heart for speaking for the voiceless, seeing the invisible and breaking the chains of injustice. And its hard not to like areas like Sundance Square in Fort Worth…

But make no mistake, Jesus is not merely a resident of the city or a friend of the rancher. Jesus is the one who has come near and is the companion of humanity – not just a certain cross-section. Anywhere there are people there is opportunity to know their names – not just in small towns. If you won’t meet your neighbor in the burbs, you aren’t likely to learn the names of shop owners in a rural town either. If you haven’t spoken up for the needs of the oppressed in the suburbs (refer back to the Newsweek article if you think they don’t exist…or better yet, visit Harvest House, Heart for the Kids, or talk to just a couple random people and ask them their story) then why would you be more likely to do the same in the city? 

Don’t get me wrong, I believe that there are people who feel a special calling to show solidarity with the urban poor and I am so glad they are willing to answer that call. There are plenty of people raising their families is small towns, and that is great. But you don’t typically have to go any further than your own neighborhood to find opportunities to love those who are unloved and share hope with those who are trapped in despair.

I believe that the burbs are going to continue to become more and more complex and diverse. We believe that the Kingdom of God is breaking in even here and the Lord Jesus is seeking to proclaim freedom for the captives, even if their prison bars are picket fences and their sentence is self-imposed.

Listening From the Hallway

 

Last week was a really interesting experience for me. I “audited” a grad class at ACU. For those that don’t know, you can sit in on a Bible class at ACU for $35 – you don’t have to take the tests and you don’t get college credit, but you get to participate at learn at whatever level you want. 

I received an M.A. in Christian Ministry from ACU in 2005 – that two year program took me 4.5 years since I was also in full-time ministry through the whole thing. A couple years ago I decided I wanted to pursue a D.Min (doctor of ministry) and that meant I needed some leveling work (my MA was a 54 hour degree and I need an MDiv, which is at least 72 hours). I think I’ve taken all the classes I need (I’ll find out for sure in a couple weeks). So I’m currently in a rare season of NOT being in school! (with the exception of a few semesters here and there, I’ve been in college and then grad school since 97!) 

So…when I found out that Chris was taking a class on Christian Worship, my inner nerd began shouting. I decided that it would be good  to sit in on the class with him so that we could process through the material together. This was a class that I’d wanted to take in grad school but didn’t “need” and never had a free January to squeeze it in.

Overall it was really good. Chris and I spent a lot of time discussing what went on in the class and came away with a few ideas. It was encouraging because we’re already doing   most of what we talked about. 

One component of the course involved the students (many of whom are full-time ministers) being placed in groups and preparing/leading a time of worship for the class. The two that were the most impacting to me were the first and last of the week. The final group led a lament service that did not in any way feel like a group project – it was one of the most profound times of worship I’ve experienced…certainly at ACU and maybe ever.

The first service impacted me in a very different way. Where the last was powerful because of the authentic and transparent nature of entering into communal and personal lament, the first was powerful because I was unable to engage in such a way.

A few of us had lunch with a professor (not the professor teaching our class) and we were late returning. I, being just a lowly auditor, dropped Chris off and went to find a parking place. By the time I got there the worship had already begun, so I stood in the hallway so as not to disturb (afterall, I didn’t know how nervous the group members were and I could hear what was going on anyway.)

Standing in the hallway during a worship gathering was interesting. I found myself, though somewhat self-conscious (since there were other people in the hallway), engaging at points in the singing and silence. I found myself listening intently to the readings. And yet I couldn’t really engage because I wasn’t fully engaged with the community. I found myself wondering what was happening when I could hear the sounds of movement but couldn’t see what people were doing. There were times when I really wanted to participate with them, but simply couldn’t because there was a barrier between me and everyone else (of course, all I had to do was open the door and go in…but I didn’t). At other times the distance and separation led my mind to wander; I found myself distracted by the things going on around me, disengaging because I wasn’t really a part of the proceedings.

And that got me thinking. How many people sit in the midst of our worship gatherings every week and experience precisely what I was going through?

There are times when they are drawn into the worship but even then they feel uncomfortable because they don’t feel like they’re really a part of the community. There are times when they can “hear the sounds of movement” but don’t really understand what’s going on. In other words, because what we do is so foreign to them, they can tell that something significant is taking place but they don’t understand and so feel like they’re listening to things happening on the other side of closed door.

How often do people disengage because they never fully engaged to begin with? And what are we doing or not doing to draw them in and welcome them? I don’t blame anyone in our class for me being outside – it was a choice I made. However, the simple truth is, right though it was, I stood in the hallway because when I approached this worship the door was closed to me.

I was unsure about whether or not I was allowed to open the door and so I stood at a distance. 

My prayer is that Christ Journey, and any gathering of Christ’s disciples, will always be aware of closed doors. Sometimes the door is closed for good reason and that means we need to be aware of anyone who may be on the other side of that door longing to join us. What happens behind the door is important and valuable – and so is what’s happening outside. 

No Doubt or Know Doubt: part II

 

Rachel is still fond of saying that,“without doubt it isn’t faith, its fact.” And before you think that makes faith less valuable or true, remember that one of the very fundamental fallacies of modern/enlightenment thought is that empirically verifiable fact is the only thing which is right or true. Translation – for the last five hundred years we’ve heard that only things which can be seen, touched, smelled, tasted or heard can be proven or trusted. The whole world, including the non-religious, are waking up from the stupor brought on by this thinking and in a loud voice are calling out for something more. We must stop expending so much energy labeling the New Age, Eastern mysticism and spiritualist movements as something evil and recognize that the world is tired of waiting for Christians to tell them what they need to hear.

There is something real and deep and true beyond the world that the senses currently detect. And sadly, Christians are often too busy attacking spirituality which fails to match our own to be able to say, “Yes! Your impulses are good! Let us journey together.” Having a commitment to the Lordship of Christ does not mean that we must attack and destroy or ridicule and ignore anyone with another commitment.

Unfortunately when we have engaged in this conversation it has often been with a Platonic and Cartesian dualism than from Biblical spirituality. The Platonic way of viewing the universe says that not only are the senses not where all truth resides, but the senses cannot be trusted AT ALL. For Plato everything we see and experience is merely a “shadow” of that which is Real. So we have developed this belief that matter and physicality are not real and are essentially evil. And this is something which the Bible does not affirm.

The certainty of the Enlightenment was based on science and human progress – and we, along with much of the world, say, “Not so much.” Much of the Christian community of last few hundred years jumped on the progress bandwagon. However, what spirituality we experienced has often gone to the other extreme and placed all our eggs in a disembodied spiritual existence. And to this, the Bible says, “Not so much.”

What does all this have to do with doubt and certainty?

When our existence involves both the seen and unseen, physical and spiritual (though I utterly disdain that distinction), faith and reason…it is more difficult to develop and defend rigid systems with black and white boundaries. There are variables. There is mystery.

That doesn’t mean that there is no truth or that we should not hold convictions. It does suggest that we should hold our convictions with humility. It does suggest that we can, in good conscience and good faith, admit struggles and doubt; we can have a sense of solidarity with the skeptical seeker. It does mean that we can question assumptions, and challenge beliefs.

I wonder what that looks like? It can look like secular humanism. It can look like individual  cafeteria-style spirituality. It can look like a lot of things which have already been shown to be ineffective. 

However, if part of the process of challenging is giving serious consideration to how Christians and Jews throughout history have been formed; if part of the process is remaining connected to community – even in the midst of differing perspectives; if part of the process is listening to the voices (present and past) who with faith in God have asked similar questions…this process can healthy and life affirming.

Is Dr. Beck right when he suggests that injecting doubt into our churches will probably kill them? My guess is that typically it would be pretty difficult to accomplish without viciously pulling the rug out from under folks. And yet we who are engaging in the ministry of planting new churches are often doing precisely this at some level. At least some of us are saying to those we encounter, “I’ve got a lot of questions and doubts too, and my goal is not to eliminate your doubt. I want to invite you into community with other people who are wrestling and also to introduce you to Jesus, the One who is more interested is healing your wounds (and sending you to heal others) than giving you a list of answers (and sending you to convince others).”

Make no mistake, left unchecked, doubt can be crippling. And yet, when a community of disciples is willing to openly and honestly deal with their doubt; to struggle with difficult issues instead of hiding behind platitudes, such a community is poised to experience faith that is never touched by those who refuse to fully engage.

No Doubt or Know Doubt

 

A large part of college education is to take a group of people who feel that they know everything (college freshmen) and get them to the point where they feel that they don’t know anything. That takes a lot of work in the classroom. The goal is to instill a curious bent to the student’s intellectual character. To get them to see each new experience (ideological and interpersonal) as an opportunity for learning. 

Higher education is good at this. But I wonder how good the church is at this process. Churches, it seems to me, move in the opposite direction: They try to instill certainty. A similar thing happens in political affiliation. You don’t see circumspection when Democrats and Republicans square off. I think this is why we live with the rule to never discuss religion or politics in polite conversation. The “feeling of knowing” infuses those discussions, making them very intense but also very unproductive.

So I wonder, can a church survive if it actually tried to undermine the “feeling of knowing” the way higher education does? Probably not. But I think some persons can make this shift. As a consequence, these person seed the church with question-raisers. The presence of these people infuse the faith community with flexibility and curiosity which prevents ossification and stagnation. A healthy church would be a mix of those who feel they know along with people who feel they don’t know. The real trick is getting these people to get along with each other and to mutually affirm the gifts each brings to the communal setting.

What a great thought from one of my former professors, Dr. Richard Beck. His blog, Experimental Theology is quite challenging for several reasons. First of all, those who think that the content of my blog is too heavy and serious should not even click on his link (though his sarcasm and humor ensure that even his scholarly work is often light-hearted and enjoyable for nerds like me). However the real challenge of Experimental Theology is that Beck is quite comfortable living into the role he suggests in the extended quote above. Challenging not only assumptions but assumptions which entire systems of thought are often built upon.

While I will not cover this topic in any way like Dr. Beck and his very well researched article, I would like to talk a little about the usefulness of doubt and willingness to question assumptions. And since this post is over a thousand words, I’ll post the rest tomorrow.

Chatty Cathy’s Thousand Word Reply

My friend Anthony left a comment on my previous post asking a couple questions. When my response reached post length I decided to just put it up here! So with that said here’s the comment and my reply.

Anthony says:

Ok, I’m a latecomer to this conversation, but thought I’d chime in anyway. I have no time to go finding a bunch of texts to buttress a position, so I will assume that we all share a common general knowledge of the same story. Anyway, I have two questions regarding Bret’s position, which may be completely right, I just have some questions.

1) Is God’s wrath passive — leaving us to the consequences of sin, but without active intervention on his part? “Passive wrath” sounds like an oxymoron.

2) Was the death of Christ necessary? Jesus prayed that the cup be taken from him if there was any other way. Did the Father say, “I could do it another way–but this one shows the depth of our love better than the others”? Or was there really no other way that we could be saved?

My reply:

Anthony,

Thanks for the comment/questions.

First, I wouldn’t use the word passive. I for sure think that it goes too far to say that across the board God’s response to sin is passive – though I think there is plenty of evidence to show that one response of God’s wrath is choosing not to intervene. 

We know that for those who consistently choose to live rebelliously God will give them over to their sinful desires…the result of believing a lie is living into that lie. Is that passive? I don’t know that passive is the best descriptor, but neither does it fit the view of vengeful God doling out punishment. 

Also, as I pointed out in the previous post, Galatians 6:7-8 says “Do not be deceived, God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” I’ve heard it said here that God pours out his wrath on those who sow to please the sinful nature. However, it makes at least as much sense (and I honestly I believe it is more true to the text) to say that God allows us to reap the natural consequences of what we’ve worked to achieve.

In that way it does seem that the Wrath has a passive component – the wrath is the withholding of rescue that has been rejected. 

I do not believe that God’s only response to sin is passive/not responding and I don’t know whether “passive wrath” is an oxymoron or not. However, at the risk of going more philosophical than anyone wants: if God is omnipotent, to choose NOT to act isn’t really passive, it is a significant action.

In either case I believe that God’s wrath, be it active or passive or some paradox of the two or something else entirely, is meant to be redemptive. And that leads to your other question.

Was the death of Christ necessary? I’m not sure if that’s the right question for this conversation. I would say that Christ’s death was necessary – just perhaps not for the reasons we’ve traditionally held. Taking your hypothetical God to Jesus statement “This one shows the depth of our love better than the others” 

I’m not sure but I think you probably meant that as a tongue-in-cheek obviously wrong answer, but perhaps that “argument” would be more compelling for God than it is for us. The deepest display of love may in effect be “the only way” precisely because God IS the deepest display of love.

The question we’re really wrestling with here (or at least that I’m wrestling with) is whether the death of Christ was the only way for God’s irrevocable demand for justice to be satisfied. Or beyond that, is the satisfaction of God’s righteous wrath and need for justice the crux of our salvation?

Perhaps we’ve too narrowly defined what it means to “be saved.” Is our salvation merely the satisfaction of God’s righteous anger? Who are the players in this drama? Is God the protagonist and humanity the antagonists? Or vice versa? 

Are not sin, death and satan the true enemies? Is it possible that we, marred as we are by sin, have perhaps been held captive by the enemy or even foolishly (and often unknowingly) aligned ourselves with the enemy?

There is no other name in heaven or earth through which salvation is available than that of Jesus - this I fully affirm. To whatever degree that sins must be atoned for it is only through the incarnation, death and resurrection of Jesus that atonement is made possible. Whatever rescue is available, God has fulfilled it through Christ.

But I still contend that we devalue the true wonder, power and profound love/kindness (chesed) of God by placing such emphasis on penal substitution and God’s inability to forgive any offense without the taking of a life.

Many brilliant folks through the years have put forth views of God’s justice and holiness which demand that he have satisfaction. My dissent is not to the position but the degree to which that position is held. I agree that God is righteous, holy and just. I’m not so sure I agree that God’s demand for justice outweighs all else. Why then should Jesus have taught us to turn the other cheek? Why then would Paul have said, “Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated?” (1 Cor. 6).

In a previous conversation the response to this was that God’s demand for justice is unavoidable but he shows his grace by sending Jesus as a scapegoat. Okay. That still leaves me with questions of why we then are commanded to forgive. “Forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.” Do we forgive those who trespass against us by demanding the death of an innocent?

I find little support for saying we are to forgive only once justice has been enacted. And I believe it is a cheap forgiveness indeed to say, “you can forgive them and move on because God’s going to punish them in the end.” There doesn’t seem to be any real forgiveness taking place there. And doesn’t that only work if they aren’t “saved”? Otherwise they avoid punishment – which then leads me to cry out for justice…which I apparently won’t get.

However, if the message is that through ultimate sacrifice we learn to have peace even when justice is denied…

When God incarnate makes the choice to NOT continue the cycle of vengeance and retribution (what if Israel and Palestine could get that concept??) When he willingly lays down his life rather than demanding the justice he deserved. When God made that choice he stepped into the middle of an unending cycle of sin and death and sent the whole thing spiraling in a new direction. Then justice was indeed served when Jesus rose from the dead, vindicated and glorified. 

Perhaps our mistake is confusing the issue of satisfying God’s wrathful requirement for justice with the issue of our salvation in Christ as though the two were synonymous. We’ve treated them as such but, again, just perhaps they aren’t.

Perhaps there have been many things throughout history which have appeased God’s wrath – sacrifice, repentance, a broken and contrite heart and faithfulness to name a few. But perhaps our salvation is about more than that. Perhaps our salvation, found only in the power of Christ, is the restoration of God’s Kingdom; the defeat of the enemies of sin, death and satan; the healing of wounds; the end of death; our transformation into fully human creatures, once again bearing fully the image of God without blemish or scar. And perhaps wrapped up in that is indeed the appeasement of God’s wrath…but its wrapped up in it, it isn’t IT. Only the power of God could accomplish all that – there is no human effort or sacrifice possible beyond the fully human and fully divine sacrifice of Jesus himself. 

Yes, I think that the death of Christ was necessary and I think it was much more valuable than just a penal substitution.

Anthony, I don’t know if answered your questions or just used them to launch into another tirade.

If nothing else, I think its clear that I don’t buy into the Calvinist/Reformed determinism theology. I’ve received a couple questions asking, since I’m obviously not very Augustinian/Calvinist in my persuasion do I consider myself Pelagian or Arminian or something else. Most of the 3 people who read this blog regularly either don’t know or don’t care what that means, but I will post a reply to that question in the near future.

Telling Better Stories

Some of those who have responded to my previous post on the wrath of God (primarily in person or by phone) seem to have understood me to say that God is not concerned with sin or that there is no response of wrath.

I understand how they could come to that since my first post on this subject was intended primarily to pull our focus away from the satisfaction of God’s wrath as the primary purpose of the cross. I made a case against this perspective not because I don’t believe it has a part in this story, but because for so many of us it has been the ONLY part of the story that seemed to matter.

I do believe that sin and injustice matter to God. I believe that violence and oppression certainly bring about the wrath of God; my friend Luke pointed out the story of Sodom and Gomorra…another good example would be the plagues on Egypt. I have said before, and still believe, that mercy taken to an extreme is injustice to those offended. 

I believe that our obstinate desire to continue in sin when faced with the Truth of God, is something which does bring guilt and potentially wrath.

I’d like to talk more about what that means. When we read about the wrath of God being poured out or threatened to be poured out there are two basic categories: 1) evil and violent cultures/people groups and 2) God’s chosen people who continue generation after generation to refuse to worship God alone; who fail to be the people they’re called to be.

Notice that if the evil communities – such as Sodom and Gomora or Egypt – would have repented, then God would have withheld his wrath. Look at Ninevah – Jonah preaches the worst sermon in history and boom, the whole city repents and then, double boom God relents. No sacrifice needed to appease his wrath other than the sacrifice of a broken and contrite heart.

Regarding the wrath poured out on God’s people – a story which is repeated throughout Israel’s history – let’s not forget how often they were given the chance to repent and turn back to God. The message of Jeremiah was that God’s wrath would come in the form of exile and control by a foreign power unless the people turned back to God. God’s wrath was NOT inescapable, it only came about after repeated refusals by His people to listen. 

I’m not arguing that Jesus’ crucifixion didn’t serve as the final sacrifice for sin – I think that is absolutely part of what happened. However, I believe that it is false to assert that God is bound by his justice to require a sacrifice and therefore that must have been the primary reason for the cross. If God is bound to satisfy justice, then God is subservient to justice…we should worship justice because it is more powerful than God. But God is love. Love certainly involves seeking justice for others, but love also forgives offenses against itself.

I believe that there are some serious holes in the position that God is bound by his justice and so the pouring out of his wrath on someone (be it on us or Jesus) is central to his nature. While God is certainly just, God is not subject to anything – if so then, again, we should worship that. It is not okay to say that God IS justice and thus he is bound by himself. First of all, while Scripture says that God is just (an adjective) it does not say that God IS Justice (noun) – we’re told that God is Love…not Justice.

One response I’ve heard to this is that love must be just. Love certainly contains a component of justice yet it is also filled with mercy, long-suffering, forgiveness and grace.

Substitutionary atonement fails to acknowledge God’s longstanding history of offering forgiveness to those who have offended him without requiring the taking of life. Hosea 6 reminds us that God “desires mercy, not sacrifice.” In that passage God, through through the prophet, is urging his people to turn back and acknowledge him – they had ALREADY broken their covenant with God and thus justice demanded that they be put out. The entire point of Hosea’s life and ministry was that God is not bound by this expectation of justice. God is willing to set all that aside if his people will remember and return.

Isn’t that precisely what we are called to as well? Paul confronts the church in Corinth for their insistence on getting justice when they’ve been wronged: “The very fact that you have lawsuits among you means you have been completely defeated already. Why not rather be wronged? Why not rather be cheated? (1 Corinthians 6:7)”

Demanding justice for yourself does not seem to carry the same weight as demanding justice for the weak and the oppressed (assuming you aren’t the weak and oppressed). God is the One who speaks up for justice on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves and yet where God is concerned he extends mercy and forgiveness.

When God is finally forced to pour out his wrath, he tells the people he will not remain angry forever – God’s wrath is redemptive rather than merely retributive (thanks Nate); God’s wrath is a means rather than an end.

How does Jesus describe God in relation to our “lostness”? Well, most of us are familiar with the three parables of lost things. The lost coin, lost sheep and prodigal son are important parables where Jesus stresses heavily the nature of God – hence three similar stories in quick succession. In these stories we find not a vengeful God of righteous wrath, but a compassionate caretaker, shepherd and father. The shepherd does not require the sheep to be sacrificed and the father does not require the son to become a slave – apparently being lost was punishment enough.

HOWEVER (Galatians 6:7) “Do not be deceived: God cannot be mocked. A man reaps what he sows. The one who sows to please his sinful nature, from that nature will reap destruction; the one who sows to please the Spirit, from the Spirit will reap eternal life.” God does take sin very seriously because sin is a component of the larger brokenness that plagues all of creation – a creation that is beloved by God and which God is even now working to restore and heal. Sin, brokenness and evil are true enemies of life, if that is what we sow then that is what we will reap.

What if that is what the wrath of God really is? Eventually God allows us to remain in the lostness we brought on ourselves. It isn’t that God brings about some vicious torture because his sense of honor has been accosted. He invites us to return but if we continue to refuse; if we continue to willingly sow evil, then how can we not reap destruction?

This shift in understanding does is not devalue the damage of sin or the need for a Savior. However, it does demand that we recognize how we’ve made sin the point for too long. Sin is only the point if our genesis (beginning) was in Genesis 3. But the fall of humanity is not the foundation of this story, the point is the power of a good creator God speaking all things into existence and being very pleased with his good creation (Genesis 1). The point is that this God desires to be in close communion with that which he has made and he will cross any chasm to rescue us from death.

Sin is a character in this story, but it is not the main character. The wrath of God is a potential subplot, but not the climax or the resolution. The wrath of God is no more central to this story than not failing a class is the central reason to study in school or gaining nutrients for physical survival is the primary reason to share a meal with friends.

God is a just God; he demands justice for those who are oppressed and he will not allow those who continue to defy him to remain unpunished. But God IS love. God is the One who is at work in healing broken lives and restoring damaged relationships. This is the central message of the cross – a new power and a new kingdom are available. No longer will the oppressive regimes of this world define power. The Kingdom of God is at hand, it is for everyone and it has a whole new definition of life. 

The barriers have been torn down; the enemy has been vanquished and the invitation to enter into life has been given. This is not primarily about a loan shark collecting a debt, this is about a father running to meet his child on the road. Falling on his knees, kissing and embracing his beloved, putting rings on fingers and coats on shoulders and throwing a feast to celebrate the restoration of the father’s broken heart.

That is a much better story.

So, This Story is a Little Long…

I just finished 5 weeks of preaching at Christ Journey on the topic of Sabbath. My suspicion going into this series was that very few of us, particularly here in our faith community, really understand, appreciate or practice any type of Sabbath rhythm.

I think this suspicion was confirmed and (hopefully) overcome. Over the past month I’ve had people come to me and say, “I’m glad we did this, I never knew that Sabbath had anything at all to do with Christianity – I thought it was just an Old Testament thing like Passover or Kosher laws.” Another told me, “I was always taught that Sabbath was going to church and NOT GOING to movies or the mall on Sunday.”

What we spent this entire month considering were the ways in which a Sabbath rhythm could be cultivated (which basically means that we have an intentional time set aside each week to cease from work and the compulsion to produce and prove ourselves and instead embrace other things like rest, worship, feasting, remembering, celebrating and storytelling).

I admit fully that while I have a great affinity for the concept of Sabbath I am not always very good at practice. I can see the areas in my life that would be healthier and more satisfying were I to center myself in the practice of remembering God is God and I am not…but I do not do the thing I want to do and what I do not what to do, I do.

One concept which has come up quite a bit lately, through our Sabbath discussions as well as in other (seemingly) unrelated settings is the importance of story. Being good storytellers and story-hearers is important to our spiritual formation and it is also a reenactment of the Gospel of Jesus. 

We discussed in a couple of the sermons that Sabbath itself is rooted in story – we are first introduced to Sabbath in the narrative of creation. It does not simply show up out of the blue in the middle of the Ten Commandments. In fact the command issued in Exodus 20 is to REMEMBER the Sabbath day. This story is formative.

Later when the Ten Commandments are retold to Israel in Deuteronomy 5 Sabbath is set within another story. Here the people are told to remember the Sabbath day as a way to remember that they were captives in Egypt and God rescued them and brought them to freedom. The Exodus story is central to understanding God’s relationship to humanity. We, the captives, cried out to God and he came near in order to set us free. He is not a God demanding constant production, like the Egyptian masters. He invites his people to rest in Him. 

Jesus would later say that He came so that we might have life and have it to the fullest. He said, “Come to me all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.”

The hearing and telling of these stories – our stories in scripture – is central to participation in the life of faith. But that isn’t where the importance of story ends.

In the midst of one of our worship gatherings we had an opportunity for several couples to share stories. They were asked to talk about how God had worked in their lives in the past or where they were hoping to see God at work in the future.

I thought it was a great moment for our family when one couple shared what they thought were two unrelated stories. However after they shared their two stories we helped them to reinterpret their story. In fact the two were so closely connected that it was quite powerful – one talking about the struggle to find balance between providing for his family and spending time with them and the other talking about her struggle to forgive a father that failed to maintain that very balance.

We are a community that tells, retells and sometimes, reinterprets stories. It is what we do because it is precisely what God has done for us. The story of human existence was one of brokenness and despair. Sin, unchecked, destroys life after life with no compassion or mercy. God in his greatness did not allow this story to define us forever. Instead he stepped into the story and began redeeming and reconciling the characters. Humanity and all creation are in the process of being healed and restored by the Great Storyteller who was not happy with this tale ending in tragedy.

Where there are chapters of brokenness, God is editing and rewriting to include restoration. Where there is pain, God writes in healing; where there is chaos, God speaks a narrative of peace.

We too have that ability. We are able to tell the story in a new light. This isn’t to say that we stick our head in the sand and pretend that everything is okay. No, we step into the midst of a story that says everything is doomed and proclaim that in fact, there is hope. (Which was part of what happened at Marvelous Light)

Paul stepped into the midst of total relativism in Athens (Acts 17) and said, “People of Athens! I see that in every way you are very religious. For as I walked around and looked carefully at your objects of worship, I even found an altar with this inscription: TO AN UNKNOWN GOD. So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship – and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.”

Paul was able to reinterpret this story for the Athenians because he was willing to enter into their story in the first place. Had he simply stood outside the Areopagus and denounced their idolatry he would have had no impact whatsoever.

I recently heard a Christian say that they were unable to participate in Christmas activities because December 25 was an ancient pagan holiday associated with the Winter Solstice and the practices of Christmas originate in the worship of Saturnalia and other pagan gods. 

It may be jarring to learn for the first time that there were religious celebrations associated with winter and even December 25 prior to Christ. While this may be difficult if you didn’t know about it, it isn’t a great deception.

In (I believe) 350, Pope Julius declared that the celebration of the birth of Christ would take place on December 25. This happened when many pagans were being forced to convert to Christianity. The move, while certainly containing the risk of syncretism, retold  this story – which was always one of hope. 

And theirs was a good story. The worship may have been false, but the concept was one of hope in a higher power that could rescue humanity from the powers of nature which were so threatening.

In fact, the practice of bringing an evergreen tree into one’s home was meant as a reminder that life would return even though the harsh cold winter seemed an unstoppable ally of death. 

And Christianity retold this story. “Yes” we were able to say, “there is hope in the darkest of times; yes we can look forward to resurrection of life from the dead – but not because we’ve properly coerced the pagan gods but rather because the One True God has become one of us in order to be life and light in this darkness.” In other words, “So you are ignorant of the very thing you worship – and this is what I am going to proclaim to you.”

Granted, the early church’s use of power and coercion was not something I believe to be Christlike. There were probably many pagans who simply used Christian language while maintaining their pagan beliefs – just as there are many Africans today who struggle with syncretism…and many Americans who baptize their consumerism and greed.

For Christians not to celebrate Christmas – at a time when the whole world is just a little more receptive to hearing the story of God coming near – seems to me to be a tragic missed opportunity to engage in this story. This story has been reinterpreted, retold and redeemed. For those who used (or use) the winter solstice to worship gods which are unable to actually save, we say, “Do not be afraid. We bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.” And because this story has been redeemed we can claim it as our story…because that it what it has become, it is a new creation!

I love the season of Advent – which is focused on anticipation of God coming near; the season of Christmas – which is focused on the arrival of our hope in the form of a Savior; the season of Easter – which is the fulfillment of our hope through the victory of Christ over sin and death. These seasons are filled with storytelling cues which can be incredibly powerful…and they can also prime the pump for the story to be told to those who’ve never heard.

I love the music, the decorations, the preparation for Christmas…there is no denying that something is happening. This story is just begging to not only be told, but to be experienced and entered into.

Now if we want to have a conversation about letting Christmas be an excuse to become self-centered materialists…well that’s an altogether different story.

The Wrath

I realize that contemporary evangelical Christianity is heavily – if not primarily – influenced by Calvinist and Augustinian assumptions about the total depravity and sinfulness of humanity, the justice of a wrathful God and the need for penal substitution which is the primary purpose and accomplishment of the cross of Jesus. With all that said, I know that this post will not sit well in such a worldview. But I’m okay with that.

The Wrath of God is a central point found in the “substitutionary atonement” view of what Jesus accomplished on the cross. For those who don’t know what that means, it is the understanding that our sin has caused a deep and tragic gap between us and God. Because He is completely pure and holy, God cannot stand to be in the presence of sin and impurity therefore we cannot enter God’s presence. Because our sin has caused such great offense to God, we are deserving of death and only a sacrifice at the level of God himself taking our place could satisfy the debt we owe. And so Jesus Christ takes on the sin of humanity and by his sacrifice we are ransomed (the debt of sin is paid). 

Let me say that this is ONE way to explain what happened on the cross and while it is certainly a scriptural position, this is just part of the story and there are other equally scriptural ways to understand what took place. I will state up front MY BELIEF that while this understanding is biblical and is an appropriate description in some settings, there are other explanations which are equally biblical (meaning they are found in scripture) but are perhaps more central to the overall message of the Bible.

Recently this issue came up on a friend’s blog and another commenter defended the position strongly. He provided a list a scripture references defending penal substitution and even made the statement that there was no reason for the cross other than to appease the wrath of God. In fact he believes that “any attempt to diminish the importance of the penal substitution of Christ diminishes God’s holiness and wrath, as well as the wicked depth of human sin.” 

I’d like to include the main sections of my two responses. I haven’t asked the fellow for his permission so I’m not going to include his comments. Let me say that while I disagree with his position, I appreciated his willingness to dialog without resorting to name calling or personal attacks. 

The act of the powerful Christ emptying himself in the face of violence and sin – not fighting fire with fire, so-to-speak – is a powerful way to understand what took place on the cross. Through Christ’s response to evil we are given the ability and model to do likewise. We do not have to respond to evil with more evil – we can show the expression of true love and willingly lay down that which is temporary to enter into that which is eternal.

The Cristus Victor theory, which has its own limitations, declares that through the cross Christ was victorious over the enemies of sin and death. Christ entered fully into the grasp of the enemy and then in an undeniable display of superiority, brushed himself off and walked away – effectively showing the enemy to be impotent.

For a people (Israel) who were expecting the return of a Davidic King and the restoration of the nation to a position of prominence, the cross holds yet more significance. Jesus was certainly the promised Messiah and yet he behaved very differently from the manner in which Israel anticipated. Rather than leading Israel in a grand military coup, Jesus showed them – and us – how to die. More than dying so that we don’t have to, Jesus died so that we would know how to.

There is no reason, from the perspective of the cross, to view substitutionary atonement as even the primary expression. Again, I don’t intend to discredit the theory, yet those who choose to approach the message of the cross from the perspective of victory, freedom, healing and love can do so with a clear position of scripture and the history of the church to support them.

Then after conceding that it is possible to construct a list of valid texts to provide a biblical case for substitutionary atonement (not unlike the lists that one could put together for other atonement theories) I went on to say… 

However, we also could look at larger trajectories in scripture and see that God’s wrath is rarely the point…it is often the last ditch effort of gracious creator engaged in every imaginable tactic to get the attention of his unruly – but still beloved children. You pointed to the suffering servant in Isaiah – if you continue reading through to chapter 58 you’ll notice that what God desires is mercy, not sacrifice. Appeasing the wrath of God through sacrifices, at least here, is secondary to showing grace, mercy and compassion – because this is the type of God in whose image we are created.

I won’t argue one bit that the wrath of God is an important and recurring theme in scripture, but I am far from convinced that it is the primary message…Personally, I’m going to say that talking about reconciliation doesn’t have to always be a message about “sinners in the hands of an angry God.” And I do not see in any way that God’s holiness is diminished by that – and I find it interesting that we should even feel compelled to put God’s wrath up next to his holiness as preeminent descriptors. I’ll argue all day that it is perhaps more central to the overall message of Scripture to say that “The LORD, the LORD, the compassionate and gracious God, slow to anger, abounding in love and faithfulness, maintaining love to thousands, and forgiving wickedness, rebellion and sin.”

Of course this quote is from Exodus 34, where God came down and proclaimed his name to Moses. You’ll notice that the rest of verse 7 says, “Yet he does not leave the guilty unpunished.” I affirm that truth and yet also put it secondary – as the text does – to God’s compassion and graciousness.

There’s more that I could say about this topic, but I’ll stop for now and see if anyone else has something to add. 

Embodiment of Christ

I recently heard someone say that they tend to refer to the Church less as the Body of Christ and more as the Embodiment of Christ. Subtle difference, maybe one you don’t care for, but it struck me. It is beyond understatement (and should be extremely obvious) to say that there is nothing wrong with the phrase “Body of Christ.” This scriptural description of the Church is a vital corrective to more settled and institutional understandings.

However, embodiment carries an active sense that resonates with me. It is not active in the sense of trying to accomplish something, but rather active because it is alive. To be the Embodiment of Christ in our world is astounding; it simultaneously declares our existence and our mission, our calling and our sending.

I’m looking forward to seeing a friend this weekend. In fact I’m looking forward to the opportunity to once again worship with and learn from her. In preparation for our worship gathering I’ve been thinking about the concept of hospitality – the theme for this Sunday and a topic that has been on my mind in a special way for the past few weeks.

When we arrived here in Burleson a few Wednesdays ago, the community of Christ Journey surrounded us. They showed up to help unload the trucks, to stock our new pantry with food, to shower us with hugs and laughter and greetings…and to share a meal with us. It struck me that people showed up at OUR new house and showed US tremendous hospitality.

This reminded me of Eugene Peterson’s powerful retelling of the story of the road to Emmaus where Jesus joins weary travelers on the trip from Jerusalem to Emmaus (check out Luke 24 if you’re unfamiliar with this passage). I’ve included part of this story on this blog before, but here’s the part that came back to me when our new friends gathered around us, which was highlighted even more after our friends in Mandeville had so lovingly surrounded us during the days and weeks before our departure.

As you enter Emmaus, you are actually feeling calm and almost your old self. You left Jerusalem three hours ago whipsawed by emotions. And now, thanks to this stranger, you are feeling almost normal.

It’s late in the day and time for supper. You’ve been away from home for a week, maybe over a week. There is nothing to eat. Passing a bakery stall you buy a loaf of bread and invite the stranger in for supper. After some coaxing, he comes in. You get out a bottle of wine. The three of you sit down to a simple supper of bread and wine. The stranger then makes a move that takes you aback momentarily. HE takes up the loaf and blesses it. The guest you invited to supper becomes the host offering you supper. After blessing the bread, he breaks it and gives it to you and to Cleopas. Then, and only then, you recognize him. It’s Jesus, alive. It’s resurrection.” (from Eugene Peterson’s, Living the Resurrection. pg 65)

While it isn’t the full expression, giving (and receiving) hospitality is a powerful embodiment of Christ in this world. Hospitality goes beyond feeding the hungry; it sits down at the table and shares the experience of the meal with them – extending not just grace, but love, dignity and community. Hospitality goes beyond merely saying “God loves you,” and even beyond, “I love you.” Hospitality says to someone that our lives would be more impoverished without them.

This isn’t about fixing a fancy dinner and making sure the children are on their best behavior (though feasting can also be a powerful embodiment of Christ). Hospitality is about sharing life together. It is what was expressed by Paul in 1 Thessalonians 2:8 “We were delighted to share with you not only the gospel of God, but our lives as well, because you had become so dear to us.”

While I won’t suggest that we begin going into people’s homes and taking charge of the meal time ritual, as Christ did with the companions from Emmaus, I do love this idea of the one invited extending hospitality. It reminds me that often we approach a relationship assuming that we are the host and we find ourselves in the place to instead receive. There may well be a temptation to resist and forcefully maintain our place as the one setting the agenda or bringing the food (literally or metaphorically).

I was blessed while we lived in Louisiana to experience the incredibly humbling experience of receiving hospitality from those “less fortunate” than me. Few encounters in life have impacted me quite as deeply as when someone who I know struggles to pay the electric bills and the continuously mounting medical bills gave a very loving and sacrificial gift to my children. The gift was powerful for several reasons. For one, it is a gift that this person has given to all his grandchildren – thus it was his way of communicating to us the depth of love, commitment and connection he feels with our family…we’re part of his family.

This same family, on a Sunday when Rachel and the boys were in Texas, invited me to their house for lunch because they didn’t want me to have to eat alone…especially on Sunday.

In the past I struggled with accepting hospitality from certain people because I didn’t want to be a burden. In truth this was the lie that hid my pride and ego which preferred to sit in the position of one who offers help to those in need. It is one thing to eat a meal with the poor…it’s another thing all together to be fed by the poor.

Another time I grew frustrated with a person who each month struggled to pay bills and yet she regularly “wasted” money buying people gifts or giving to others who didn’t really need it. I wanted her to be more responsible with her money.

My internal hesitation to bless God for these gifts began to sound a lot like the disciple’s indignant complaint that perfume poured on the head of Jesus could have been sold and given to the poor. What’s more, I began to realize that in my arrogance I was assuming that my giving was less ridiculous. My assumption was that I am a “have” and others are “have nots” instead of the truth, as David Wray has been known to say, “I’m just one hungry beggar sharing bread with another.”

The offer of hospitality is not merely an opportunity for the “haves” to bless the “have nots” – though that is certainly appropriate. It is a way for each of us to embody Christ in a very real and significant sense, and to acknowledge that we all serve from a place of need in anticipation of the day when Jesus himself will fully satisfy those needs.

For some of us, and for different reasons, receiving hospitality may well be more difficult than offering it. Perhaps it is pride, perhaps it is insecurity or perhaps it is a fear of being indebted to someone. In any case we must ask ourselves whether our inability to accept hospitality can negatively impact our ability to embody Christ.

What would have happened if Jesus was unable to receive the anointing of perfume and tears from the “sinful woman” in Luke 7? I don’t have room to go into it here, but I believe that it was in part Jesus’ ability to receive hospitality from the “poor” (whatever kind of poverty they were experiencing) that enabled him to be truly hospitable. Jesus himself declared that he did not come to be served, but to serve – perhaps that’s why people rejoiced when they had the opportunity to serve him!