Friday, April 16, 2010

God-Man Part 1

I have always found the humanity of Christ fascinating.


I do not often use the word fascinating , so when I use it you know I mean it. Why is it fascinating?


Because Jesus was the most unique human individual to ever cross the horizon of this world. Why? Well obviously, because he was fully divine yet fully human. This is one of the great fascinating mysteries of God. How could an individual be both God and man? The easy answer is that in fact he was not both God and man, but simply a very good man.


But this doesn't really work. Jesus said he was God, therefore if he claimed divinity and was lying then he was not a very good man, either. Or he was insane. As CS Lewis once put it, Christ is either Lord, a liar, or a lunatic.


When I was a child, I came to the conclusion that Jesus was basically God wrapped in a human body. But that doesn't really work either.


Because if that were true, than Jesus would not have been fully human, he would only have had a human body. But time and again we see Jesus displaying a remarkable degree of human emotion and feeling.


Now of course, it should be understood that God, being the designer of our emotions, also has emotions and indeed experiences them in a much more nuanced and profound manner than that in which we do.


But it seems evident to me that Jesus experienced emotions in a very human way. But these experiences were only possible because during his time on earth Jesus Christ was not omniscient, or at least not all the time.


The most concrete evidence for this rests on Jesus' statement that he had no idea when the world would end, and that only the Father did. But there are other examples strewn throughout the Gospels that indicate Jesus' semi-omniscience. In Luke's Gospel, we find Jesus praying in Gethsemane that this cup of wrath would pass from him.


And he is praying desperately.


So desperately, in fact, that he sweat blood. When in all of Scripture do we observe the Lord God experiencing desperation? Well, never. Except for the Gospels. Desperation is contingent upon not knowing. Uncertainty.


Later on, we find Jesus being desperate again, in one of the most emotionally charged passages of holy writ. As he hangs dying on the cross, Jesus famously screams, "My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?!"


Honestly, this is one of the single most fascinating scenes in the Bible. Christ is directly quoting Psalm 22, originally penned by a young David yearning for God's presence in his life. It is quite likely that Jesus read through the Psalter as often as he could, and it may very well have been his favorite book of the Hebrew Scripture. Principally because prophesies of his life and doings are all over the Psalms, but also because Jesus very much identified with King David.


But that's not why I think Jesus' wrenching cry is so intriguing. For that we must consider the Trinity; or at least try to, since by definition we cannot.


The one phrase with which I think we can almost adequately use to describe the tri-personal God-head is loving community. God the Father, burning and spinning and shining forth like the thermonuclear core of a supernova. God the Son, the generative and conductive force of the universe, sustaining and edifying life. God the Holy Spirit, fluid and aflame, suffusing the planet earth with the love of God and gently tugging our hearts toward Him. These three distinct and unique persons are three yet one, different yet all the same.


This is another one of the great fascinating mysteries of God. The point is that these beings have always existed together and in perfect union with one another. What does this have to do with Jesus' cry? Think about it. We say Jesus died for our sins, which is a quaint thing to say in Sunday School but in practice was extremely brutal. And part of his atonement act was to take all sin upon himself and drape his cloak of righteousness over us all. But in the act of taking upon our sin, Jesus broke with the perfect union of the Triune God.


As we have discussed before, God is holy. That is what makes sin evil. God cannot be in relationship with sin. And when Jesus cried out, he had become sin, and God turned away from him. And for the first time in eternity Christ knew what it was to be totally alone.


The point of all this is that Jesus was a man. In a later post we'll discuss his development as a human being and consider the implications of that on his deity. But suffice it to say that Jesus was not omniscient whilst here.

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Destruction

Has there ever been a time in your life when Jesus has come and destroyed everything?

For me, He came a year and a half ago, bearing a sizable wrecking ball. I had always, or at least since about 7th grade, wanted to be a lawyer. Initially, I had dreams of becoming an ambulance chaser or a divorce lawyer, someone who made a lot of money without having to do much. As I got older, my jurisprudential ambitions turned toward the more humanitarian aspects of law, such as human rights or government work.

By my senior year of high school, I had decided to go the University of Illinois and eventually the law school there. But in October of that year, one morning I woke up and knew I was actually going to be a pastor. The rest of that day, as I can recall, I was in a state of mild shock, slowly processing this bomb that the good Lord had dropped.

But the more I thought about it, the more I could link up events from over the previous year that had culminated in this vocational announcement.

It had all started in the early Fall of 2007. Throughout that year, a deep sense of disquiet and unrest filled me until I was nearly rupturing it from my joints. I could feel God urging me, pressuring me, to make a change. He was not entirely clear as to what that change should be, so I decided that I would step up and be more involved in student government, thus I ran in the election for student council president that spring.

That fever dream ended in a fiery crash, from which there were no survivors. And I was left dejected, not only because everyone hated me, but because I was convinced that me winning the election was God's plan (narcissistic much?). He wanted change, I tried to change, and failed. This event threw my entire outlook on life off balance. It redefined how I thought about myself - namely, with much more humility.

This newfound humility, for its part, led to what I sometimes refer to as my "second conversion", though that term does not do the event justice. While in Canada on a missions trip, God revealed Himself to me in an irrevocable and unequivocal way. Now I understood. The change would not be on my terms, but on His.

And so it happened. I started senior year with a vision and a purpose endowed by God. I founded a group of like-minded students who were all dedicated to enacting the Kingdom of Heaven in the here and now. I was back on top of the world, and as such my old ways of pride and arrogance began to creep back in.

But come that October, God had to debase me once again. Goodbye to law school, wealth, security, and prestige. Welcome to the land of the pastor, a land flowing with depression and small paychecks. Since then, I have tried to dutifully run the race marked out. Some mornings, most mornings, it feels like I've made a terrible mistake. Family and friends have, gently, expressed that I have lost my mind. They are probably right.

But I digress. It would have been the easiest thing in the world for me to simply ignore God's call on my life and carry on with my plans. And I could have done good works aplenty; served my fellow man, advanced the cause of Christ. But ultimately, I would have been going through the motions of religion, honoring God with my mouth but not with my life.

As we have discussed before, everyone has a calling to proclaim the gospel. But how does God want you to do it? Inquiring of the Lord, asking what He wants: that's the easy part. The trick of it is following His direction, even if He takes away your life. Or at least the one you planned to have.

Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Hebrews 12:1


Memo

This isn't an actual posting. I just wanted to apologize for the mind-blowing length of my last few posts.

If I find it hard to read them, then I know you do do to.

In the future, I will abstain from writing short novels, this isn't the place for that.

Thank you.

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Disowned

Peter declared, "Even if all fall away, I will not."

"I tell you the truth", Jesus answered, "today - yes, tonight- before the rooster crows you yourself will disown me three times."

But Peter insisted emphatically, "Even if I have to die with you, I will never disown you."

Have you ever made a promise like that to Jesus? The fact of the matter is, you did the moment you were saved. You allied yourself to His cause, pledged to dutifully carry your cross, and ceded your rights to His will. Peter was one of Jesus' closest friends when He was on earth, and if anyone were to say that to Jesus, it would be Peter.

But Jesus calls him out and says that no, he won't. That Peter does not understand what has just flown out of his well-meaning mouth. That when the time comes, Peter will not only deny ever knowing Jesus once, but thrice. But Peter insists that he will stand by Jesus to the end.

It is easy for us, as it was for Peter, to declare our undying devotion to Christ. But what happens when the rubber truly meets the road?

Then seizing him, they led him away and took him into the house of the high priest. Peter followed at a distance. But when they had kindled a fire in the middle of the courtyard and had sat down together, Peter sat down with them. A servant girl saw him seated there in the firelight. She looked closely at him and said, "This man was with him."

But he denied it. "Woman, I don't know him," he said.

A little later someone else saw him and said, "You also are one of them."

"Man, I am not!" Peter replied.

About an hour later another asserted, "Certainly this fellow was with him, for he is a Galilean."

Peter replied, "Man, I don't know what you're talking about!" Just as he was speaking, the rooster crowed. The Lord turned and looked straight at Peter. Then Peter remembered the word the Lord had spoken to him: "Before the rooster crows today, you will disown me three times."

And he went outside and wept bitterly.

This is possibly one of the single most heart wrenching passages in Scripture. Why? Because every single Christian can identify. Every so often in my life, there has come a point when someone plays the part of the servant girl and says to me, "Surely this man was with him." And I deny it. Maybe not as directly or as vehemently as Peter did, but as certainly.

And immediately, my heart is confronted with Jesus' words as recorded by Matthew: "Whoever acknowledges me before men, I will also acknowledge him before my Father in heaven. But whoever disowns me before men, I will disown him before my Father in heaven."

Peter heard these words when they were first spoken, and no doubt they returned to him as he crouched outside the house of the high priest, weeping bitterly. I do not think it a stretch to assume that he thought he was toast (figuratively and literally).

I can imagine that the shame of it ate him alive over the next few days. After the Crucifixion (which Peter did not have the gumption to attend, but who can really blame him?) and the Resurrection, the disciples had gone to Galilee. Twice now, Jesus had appeared to them and talked with them.

But none of the Gospels record Peter and Jesus exchanging words. Perhaps Peter was too ashamed, or perhaps he thought that Jesus would curse him in front of everyone if he spoke up. Whatever the reason, Peter was at this point torn up inside.

"I'm going out to fish," he said one evening. Peter had been a fisherman in his pre-Jesus life, and now that his shot with Jesus was through, he was returning to what he knew best. To the only thing, in his mind, he was any good at. But that entire night he and the other disciples caught nothing. The lake was as empty as his heart.

Early the next morning, the weary men spotted a man standing on the shore, just far enough away for his features to be fuzzy, but close enough for his voice to carry.

"Friends, haven't you any fish?"

"No!" They replied.

"Throw your net on the right side of the boat and you will find some."

Why not? So the men hauled up the sodden net, carried it across the little boat, dropped it into the water, and WHAM! Almost instantly, their net is full of big, meaty fish. The weight made the boat list; the disciples were almost pulled in. John looked at Peter and said, "It is the Lord!"

Peter's eyes widen. He wraps his cloak around himself and for the second time in his life steps out of a boat on the Sea of Galilee. This time, of course, he just falls in and swims to shore. After they eat breakfast with Jesus, the other disciples get up to see to the fish, leaving Jesus and a sheepish Peter sitting by the fire.

Jesus looked at Peter, who probably cringed under the stare. Quietly, Jesus asked, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me more than these?"

Hope stirred in Peter's dejected heart. Timidly, he responded, "Yes, Lord. You know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my lambs."

Again Jesus said, "Simon son of John, do you truly love me?"

Peter answered more firmly this time: "Yes, Lord, you that I love you."

Jesus said, "Take care of my sheep."

And for the third time, Jesus asked him, "Do you love me?"

Peter was hurt at this third repetition of the question. Was Jesus mocking him? He said, "Lord, you know all things; you know that I love you."

Jesus said, "Feed my sheep."

As I said earlier, there are times in our life when we disown Jesus before men and fear that He will in turn disown us before God. But Jesus treats us the same as He treated His dear, fuddled friend Peter. He gives us not just one chance, but as many as is required. And for each time we disown Him, mock Him, degrade Him, or besmirch His name, He asks:

"Do you truly love me?"

It's a piercing question. How will you answer?











Tuesday, February 23, 2010

"Not so with You"


People desire power and control over other people. This desire is one of the chief aspects of our sin nature, expressing itself daily in our lives. Our world revolves around the dynamic of striving to gain the upper hand on your enemy or assailant. The abuse of power and authority is rampant throughout our society.

One of Jesus' most radical teachings was the suggestion that in the Kingdom of God, the first would be last and the last would be first. This grinds against everything we understand of the world. When we think about power and authority, it is always power and authority accompanied by force and aggression. Humanity is much more prone to war than to diplomacy.

Late in His ministry, Jesus washed His disciples feet as they reclined to take a the Passover meal. This act was almost offensive to the disciples. The master never washed his students' feet, for foot washing was a lowly, servile act. But what Jesus was trying to illustrate was that leaders in the Kingdom would have to be servants of all.

Jesus and the disciples had discussed this idea before the Triumphal Entry, after James and John had asked Jesus to give them positions of authority in the earthly kingdom they thought He was about to usher in. Instead Jesus says this to His disciples:
"You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their high officials exercise authority over them. Not so with you. Instead, whoever wants to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wants to be first must be your slave - Just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life as a ransom for many." (Matthew 20:25-28)

I have been in positions of authority over other people, and this passage can be hard to swallow. My natural tendency is to assert my authority over the people I'm leading, to proclaim my own importance. This is something that many pastors struggle with today; this tension between being a spiritual leader but without being the superior of his congregants. How can you maintain good leadership without reminding them who the leader is? With sacrificial service.

The Apostle Paul, minister to the Gentiles and founder of countless churches, is a near perfect template for sacrificial service. He had direct spiritual influence over the many churches he helped plant and was commissioned by Christ Himself to carry the gospel to the Gentile world. But yet in his epistles, we never observe Paul aggressively enforcing his ideas or arrogantly lording his special calling over those he is writing to.

Instead, we see him trying his best to tackle the near insurmountable task of ministering to the vast Roman world without bitterness or (much) complaint. Much of his work went thankless and without the honor due it. The question, of course, is how did Paul do it? How could he hold that much power over so many people and not turn the infant Church into the Paul of Tarsus show?

I think the answer lies in the motivation behind his actions. Paul did not minister to all those people for himself. If he was then he would probably have given up after the first time he was stoned (by an angry mob, not marijuana) if not way before. He wasn't doing it for the people. If you consider how screamingly idiotic the Corinthians must have been, he probably would have thrown his hands in the air and retired.

No, Paul was doing it for the Lord. Which is great; but why? Paul gives his answer in his first letter to Timothy (1:13, 14), a young pastor in Ephesus who was undoubtably struggling with this very issue.
Even though I was once a blasphemer and a persecutor and a violent man, I was shown mercy because I acted in ignorance and unbelief. The grace of our Lord was poured out on me abundantly, along with the faith and love that are in Christ Jesus.

Paul's point here is that no one on earth could treat him as badly as he once treated Christ, but Christ died for his sins anyway (a public service for us all). Thus, since we first treated Christ with such contempt, it is fitting for us to sacrificially serve others as He sacrificially served us.

True leadership is found through sacrificial service, not power plays and aggression. Even if you aren't a pastor in a church, you still have the choice of lording your authority over others, or sacrificially serving them.

May it be not so with you.






Thursday, February 18, 2010

Season of Despair

An unequivocal feature of the human condition is an obscene fear of failure. There are many forms of failure: there is the failure of not fulfilling a promise, the failure of losing a competition, the failure to complete a task. There are a whole lot of ways to fail. But, to my mind, the most biting is the failure attached to religious obligation and expectation.

I failed to tithe. I failed to pray today. I failed resisting sin. The list goes on and on. One of the reasons the Bible is so splendid is that it records, often in excruciating detail, the failures of a great many people. It starts in the beginning (obviously) with Adam and Eve's goof in the garden, and goes through the doubts of Abraham, Moses' blatant defiance in the desert, David's tryst with Bathsheba, and all the others.

Then we come to the Gospels. As the end of His time on earth was drawing near, Jesus went to the Garden of Gethsemane with His disciples. Once there, He takes His inner circle, Peter, James, and John, and withdraws under the dark olive trees to pray. He tells the trio to remain alert (since Jesus knew that the Temple posse was a-comin') and to pray. Jesus leaves them, prays in utter anguish for a few minutes, and returns to His most trusted friends, to find them asleep! Twice!

Presumably, these three disciples more than the other nine would have noticed the tendency of Herod, the priesthood, normal people, and really just about everybody, to attempt to arrest/kill Jesus for most of His public ministry. One would think they would understand that when Jesus says watch, you watch.

If nothing else, these guys were on the edge of their seats constantly, expecting Jesus to suddenly blast the Romans into the Mediterranean and establish God's Kingdom on earth. Just a few days previously, Jesus was paraded into the city as a conquering monarch. The entire city of Jerusalem was expecting fireworks.

But here we have the disciples - the poor, bumbling, human disciples - dosing off when their friend and Lord needed them most. They failed big time.

More times than I would like to admit, I've failed the Lord big time. Some things aren't that big, like when I refuse to talk to that student sitting across from me at the cafe, despite the Holy Spirit nagging me to do so. But a lot of things are pretty big; sin habits going unchallenged, disciplines going unpracticed.

And when I sin, especially when I do it consciously, I am overcome with a searing sense of failure. God has placed the target far away, and try as I might, I just can't hit the mark. What is Jesus' reaction to such failures? Let's turn back to the gospel account.

And He came to the disciples and found them sleeping. And He said to Peter, "So, you could not watch with me one hour?"

First comes the rebuke. I can imagine the disappointment in Jesus' voice, one of His best friends having failed him.

"Watch and pray that you may not enter into temptation. The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak." Again, for the second time, He went away and prayed.

After the rebuke comes instructions, and then Jesus says something interesting: almost giving the disciples an excuse. "It's ok that you failed, I know you're trying, but you're only human."

Largely, Jesus reacts the same way with us and our failures. He's at first disappointed, but then reminds us of the task He's set us to, and then reminds us of His grace. Failure is inevitable, and so is God's response: "Keep on keeping on, kid. And don't worry, I've got you covered."

Once you were alienated from God and were enemies in your minds because of your evil behavior. But now He has reconciled you by Christ's physical body through death to present you holy in His sight, without blemish and free from accusation...
Colossians 1:21, 22



Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Dark Places

Our world is a beautiful and a dreadful place. Her beauty is expressed through waterfalls and bumblebees and cumulus clouds and other natural things. But her dread is largely a human component. Murder, strife, warfare, deprivation. Our civilization is one that seems to teeter on the edge of destruction all the time, and no longer from acts of nature but from ourselves.

But today we are going to ignore all that and instead focus on the dark places of the human soul. Consider man: within him are the most noble dreams... and the most horrible nightmares. Once upon a time, all we were capable of was good. But our forebears, standing in that primeval garden, made a certain choice. And that choice led to death for us all.

But what is choice? A choice, in its purest form, would be a decision between at least two things; a decision removed from coercion, manipulation, or force. A free decision. Because if it is not free, then it's not really a choice, is it?

Thus: life in a fallen world. God, in His love, has extended His grace to us. In return, we must abandon all else and pursue Him and His way. But, as we have discussed before, human beings are very easily distracted. There are many things besides God that look inviting and promise satisfaction.

And so we choose, in full sight of God and in complete knowledge of our actions, the wrong things. We soon find, however, that our freedom to choose is not inviolable. Sin is much like a boa constrictor, in that you can at first drape it over your shoulders because it is fun, or thrilling, or impressive. But it soon becomes evident to you that the boa constrictor isn't going anywhere. In fact, the more you struggle against it the more it constricts until the life is all but squeezed out of you.

The phrase, "a slave to sin", takes on a new meaning. Sin is not something you can dabble in or just try out. It will, slowly but surely, rob you of the ability to choose, until the only option on the table is to plunge deeper into sin.

Who then can be saved? One of the most vital doctrines of Christianity is the Indwelling of the Holy Spirit. God, in all His grandeur and majesty, has chosen us, His church, as living temples for His Spirit. Why? Because no one can make it on their own. Thanks to our dear friend John Calvin, this idea is known as the total depravity of mankind.

In my life, without the gracious restraint of the Holy Spirit, all of my thoughts and actions would only be evil, continually. As my sins and iniquities pile up and threaten to crush me, it is Jesus who descends into that hell alongside me and turns my face back up to the light.

And then I have a choice.

I can choose to grasp His hand and get pulled up out of the pit, or I can continue to dig it deeper.

There is not a righteous man on earth who does what is right and never sins.
Ecclesiastes 7:20


For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. For what I do is not the good I wish to do; no, the evil I do not want to do - this I keep on doing.
Romans 7:18,19

Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens. Our God is a God who saves, from the Sovereign Lord comes escape from death!
Psalm 68:19,20












Wednesday, February 10, 2010

I Can See Clearly Now

Once upon a time, on a grassy hilltop in a land far away, a ragged and unkempt rabbi turned to the milling crowds sitting on the hillside around him and began to deliver the Sermon on the Mount. He began with a short, lyrical list of proverbs that somewhere down the twisty and dangerous road of Church history came to be known as the Beatitudes.

The sixth one has always intrigued me: "Blessed are the pure in heart, for they shall see God." What did Jesus mean? They shall see God? What does purity have to do with it?

I am beginning to understand the answer. We find it a few miles away from the calm rabbi on the hilltop, surrounded by hurting people, hateful Pharisees, and confused disciples. Here is Jerusalem, and at its northern end we see the glimmering Temple built by Herod the Great, a world renowned religious site, and destination for thousands of curious and fervent pilgrims from all over the busy Roman world.

In the ancient scrolls containing the laws of the Jews as brought down the mountain by Moses, we see enshrined in Leviticus an intricate and all-encompassing code of rules and guidelines. For what? Purity. Why do the Israelites need to be pure? And there we have our answer.

Imagine, if you will, God. Yes, I know it's hard, but try. There is light: radiant, unapproachable light. There is sound: deep, harmonious sound like the growl of a black hole. Swirling colors, rushing winds, the fragrance of pulverized rock. But over the sensory overload there pulses something thats shakes our bones and makes our eyes water; something both magnificent and terrifying to behold: complete otherness. This is a being who is infinitely as different and separated from everything else as the farthest edge of the universe. Pure; sublime. Both the embodiment of the Law and its sworn enforcer.

In calm discussions far away from the power and glory we refer to this otherness as the Holiness of God. The idea of His holiness also includes His impeccability (complete inability to sin), and His total righteousness and intolerance of sin. Originally, He made humans to be sinless and pure in His sight.

We all know how that went.

God is holy. People, decidedly, are not. Saint John, beloved friend of Jesus and apostle of the Church, tells us in his first epistle that God is love. But we also know that God is justice. For awhile after Adam and Eve's goof, there was nothing to shield mankind from the divine justice emanating from the supreme Holiness of God. Until God, in love, stepped forward with a contingency plan.

The poor Hebrews were made abundantly and immediately aware of His holiness and their abject depravity as they watched, terrified, the summit of Mount Sinai being consumed with fire, light, smoke, and thunder as Almighty God descended to speak with Moses.

The results of this discussion were the Ten Commandments and the aforementioned religious obligations of the Hebrew nation embodied in Leviticus. God, despite His grandeur and transcendence, would make His home in a pretty tent at the center of the Israelite camp.

But, in order for Him to stay, and to pour out His blessings and gifts on the Israelites, they would have to uphold their purity, both as individuals and as a nation. In calm discussions far away from ancient life we refer to this as the Old Covenant. And the central, abiding, overriding, paramount component of that covenant was fidelity to Him as their one and only God.

But as soon as God turned His back, figuratively speaking, the idols and false gods began to creep in. Baal, Asherah, Moloch, Dagon, Marduk. And slowly but surely the false gods of the stars, the sun, and the moon choked out the glory those heavens were trying to proclaim. The end results were catastrophic for the Jews.

For you, dear reader, it may seem that the likes of Baal, Asherah, or Moloch are no longer distracting you from God. Ah, but you see, Satan (that ancient serpent) is still cleverly selling you the same old products in shiny new packages. Money, excellence, sex, beauty, power: all are at their root the pantheon of old. And make no mistake, all are idols that we whore ourselves after.

In the shrine atop the high place in my soul you find an idol of Intelligence. Next to it sits the altar where I sacrifice things to gain Respect From Others. In a prominent place reposes the false god called Religion. Above it all hangs an ever-burning lamp that symbolizes my devotion to Selfish Will. I am certain you have a similar place in your heart.

Idols clutter our sight and wreck our purity. The words of Jesus ring true. Why are the pure in heart blessed? Because they are the ones who can see God. There are no distractions, no clutter, no idols.

As the old hymn goes, create in me a pure heart, O God.






Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Scum

Persecution is an intriguing concept. Christianity is perhaps unique for the high value and esteem it places on those members who suffer and die due to persecution. And not as violent martyrs, but as sheep led to the slaughter. Christ is the perfect example in this, as He is in all things.

He withstood violence and cruelty, for the most part in silence. He did not denounce the priests that spit on him and mocked him, did not curse Pilate or Herod for turning Him over to satisfy a bloodthirsty crowd. As He hung on the cross, He did not call down heavenly fire to annihilate those around Him, but asked for their forgiveness.

This model was followed by thousands of Christians after him, calmly facing down the powers of darkness as their earthly bodies were destroyed.

What are we to make of this, sitting here in the United States in our safety and our comfort?

Now, I am not advocating for you to go and have yourself killed by some foreign regime, but think for a moment. How does this idea of persecution, of becoming the scum of the earth, translate into our lives today?

I think that we as American Christians face a similar set of challenges as many did 2,000 years ago. Roman authors that were contemporaries of the early Church considered Christians to be a bunch of worthless idiots. They threw their lives away to follow after a dead man from Nowhere, Judea.

Jesus, while on earth, spoke of His followers' having to bear their crosses to follow Him. What did He mean? That we should learn to cope with the little griefs and disappointments that invariably flare up on the Christian walk? No.

He was talking about loss of life. The cross was a tool of capital punishment, the single most gruesome method that humanity has so far come up with. It was an excruciating death, a humiliating death. It was reserved for the most radical and dangerous criminals.

The cross did not and does not symbolize paltry obstructions on the path of life. It symbolizes a complete departure from that path. I am becoming increasingly convinced that what Jesus was talking about was a total relinquishing of my own ambitions and desires to pursue whatever task He sets me to. Period.

What kind of reaction does living a radical Christ life engender from the world? Persecution. Whether its disdainful looks for sitting with the lonely weird kid in the dining hall or getting fined for illegally feeding the homeless. There is no rule that states that a true Christian life brings persecution, but I think that if you never come up against it in your walk with the Lord, you may want to take a closer look at yourself and see how much you actually look like Jesus.

Paul, when confronted with the irresistible reality of God as revealed in Christ, abandoned everything he knew: his status as a learned Pharisee, his religion, the respect and admiration of his peers. He cast it all aside in his pursuit of Christ.

What are you willing to cast aside? Jesus does not ask the same sacrifices from everyone. For Paul, it was everything. Examine your life. What prevents you from taking up your cross and the radical, sacrificial life that it represents? Cast those things aside, my friends.

" Anyone who loves his father or mother more than me is not worthy of me; anyone who loves his son or daughter more than me is not worthy of me; and anyone who does not take his cross and follow me is not worthy of me. Whoever finds his life will lose it, and whoever loses his life for my sake will find it." Matthew 10:37-39

"If anyone else thinks he has reasons to put confidence in the flesh, I have more: circumcised on the eighth day, of the people of Israel, of the tribe of Benjamin, a Hebrew of Hebrews; in regard to the law, a Pharisee; as for zeal, persecuting the church; as for legalistic righteousness, faultless. But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ..." Philippians 3:4-8





Monday, February 1, 2010

The Gospel

So then, our ultimate calling is to preach the gospel to all the world. But what is the gospel, exactly?

In its most dressed-down form, the gospel is that Jesus Christ, the unique Son of God, has died to redeem the whole world and has resurrected to bring us all into eternal life. Christians know this, hopefully, backwards and forwards. But sometimes we get sidetracked from the gospel and detour into other things.

Oftentimes, it is easy for us to think of salvation, redemption, and sanctification in selfish, self-centered frames of mind. Jesus is saving me, is redeeming me, is sanctifying me. And yes, He is. But I am convinced there is a larger picture that we miss when we think in this way.

I think it more true to reality to say that Jesus is saving us, redeeming us, and sanctifying us. Us, not me. The Body, not the individual. It is important for us to make the distinction partly because of our pre-conditioned individualistic way of thinking that comes from living in America, but mostly because the Church was designed by God to be Christ's body. You can experience Christ by yourself, and you should. But we cannot experience the total Jesus experience, if you will, without fellowship and interaction with our fellow believers.

This is part of the beauty of the Church. The "buddy Jesus" idea has been promoted to such an extent in the western world that we easily lose sight of the Church and the community she represents. Absolutely, Jesus loves you as an individual, knows the number of hairs on your head, etc. But He did not die to save you, He died to save everyone who believes.

I am not denigrating personal relationships with God, I'm saying that the proposition of salvation is a corporate proposition, not an individual one. In terms of the gospel, Jesus died to save everyone who will believe in Him, which can include you.

Therefore, brother and sisters, cherish your one on one time with the Lord. But also cherish your corporate time with the Lord, perhaps even more than the personal.

At the end of history, when we all live together with God, we will all be living together. We don't get little personal heavens. We're a collective, the perfection of the Church. Our experience of God will be as one Body, one pristine Bride of Christ.





Sunday, January 31, 2010

Ultimate Calling

Christians spend a lot of time pondering this issue: what is God's will for my life?

At first glance, this question appears to have multiple answers. God is calling me to love Him. God is calling me to be a good person. God is calling me to serve others. God is calling me to be an accountant. Hundreds of books have been penned on the subject of finding God's will for your life.

But I think that it is much more simple than people make it out to be.

Our calling is to spread the gospel, preach the gospel, write the gospel, and in myriad other ways to communicate the good news to all of our fellow inhabitants on planet earth. Don't get me wrong, loving God, serving others, and being good people (not to mention the fine art of accountancy) are all honorable and noble things to do with life.

In fact, I would say that preaching the gospel and loving Jesus have to go hand in hand. But just loving Jesus without ever showing another that love is sacrilege. Being moral people and serving others are vehicles to preach the gospel, not ends in and of themselves.

Sure, God cares about where you work, where you live, and what you spend money on, but not because He necessarily cares about that company but because He cares about the lost people in that company. Everything He does is towards the sole purpose of drawing souls to Himself; accordingly, everything He would have you do is pledged to the same goal.

While individuals are certainly called to certain jobs and whatnot, we must always keep in focus the reason you're called to that job: to further the Kingdom of Heaven by preaching the gospel.

Loving, serving, and being good are byproducts of a life wholly surrendered to Christ. For it is only through Him that we do good.

The next time that you go to God and ask His will for your life, remember to keep in mind our ultimate calling, that of preaching the gospel in Jerusalem, in Samaria, in Judea, and to the ends of the earth.

We proclaim him, admonishing and teaching everyone with all wisdom, so that we may present everyone perfect in Christ. To this end I labor, struggling with all his energy, which so powerfully works in me. Colossians 1:28,29


Saturday, January 30, 2010

Ruining Eli's Day

Speaking of words from the Lord, have you ever been in a situation where a friend or relative is engaged in an activity that you know is sinful, and you really want God to give you a great condemnation to fire at them?

I certainly have.

In fact, I have actually acted on these supposed "words of God" and delivered messages of judgement to people who would probably benefitted more from my support than my judgement.

But such is the way of those individuals who posses a razor sharp moral compass, which they usually point at those around them. I am one of those individuals, a fact those who know me are very well aware of.

But I digress. There are special cases when one receives insight into another person's life, and this insight is negative. The prophet Samuel, mouthpiece of God to Kings Saul and David, at the very beginning of his career, received an insight from the the Lord declaring that the high priest's family was condemned because of their many evils and that Eli's (the high priest) name would be cut off from future generations.

Understandably, Samuel was initially hesitant to relay that message to Eli. The same can be said of us. Today, people rarely if ever receive God's direct condemnation on another person's sinful behavior. However we do have God's Word, namely the Bible, to convey His mind to us and make clear His opinions.

In reading the Bible, the Holy Spirit opens our eyes to the text and can link the words to situations in life. When God does this in you on behalf of another's behavior, it can be difficult to then present this to the person in question. It was certainly difficult for Samuel. But in the end he delivered that packet of doom to Eli.

And so must we, if the Spirit brings to our attention verses to confront another on. Of course, doing this on your own without God's guidance is using the Bible as a weapon, which is something the world has suffered enough of. But bringing God's message to a person, in the name of love, is a noble thing. But more than that, it is the responsible thing, because who are we to question God's decisions? If He has sent it to you, you must deliver it.

Even if it ruins Eli's day.



Friday, January 29, 2010

Going about it

I think that religious people today far too often claim that God has told them something or speak on His behalf.

I wonder sometimes how God feels about this. Certainly He does indeed speak to His children often and about many things, but I wonder if people use God to further their own purposes or justify their decisions.

An example: a few years ago the father of a young man I know packed up his family and they all moved to a nearby town because "God" had told him to. But the family was unhappy about the move, the children did not do well in the new school, and eventually the family moved back.

Did God really instruct the father to do this? Or did he make himself believe that God had? Obviously, one cannot simply dictate what God did say and what He doesn't. I cite the above story not to discredit the father, but to use it as a fairly standard example of the kind of situation I am talking about.

God is no longer in the business of loudly announcing His plans from the clouds or sending prophets to proclaim it in His stead. The coming of the Holy Spirit largely made that kind of dramatic grandstanding obsolete. But now that we live with the Spirit indwelling us, I think it is difficult for people to distinguish between the Spirit, their own thoughts, and subconscious renderings of external circumstances.

For the Christian, one of the biggest challenges in leading a God-centered life is learning to hear the Spirit, and (more importantly) to be able to discern the difference between the voice of God and all else. Prayer is a rather delicate business, because not only are you trying to communicate with the Lord, you are trying to listen to Him also. It is an easy thing to substitute the Spirit with our own thoughts; we can do this so seamlessly that we do not notice, and then go on to act on what we perceive is the will of God.

To the outsider or the atheist, I am sure that all these churches full of people talking about what God told them might as well be insane asylums. Which brings us to a good point: it is a crazy, dangerous proposition to claim a direct message from God. It is a precious, rare thing. Something to be protected and respected. In my life, the entire idea of a special message from God has slowly been drained of its meaning from extreme and negligent overuse.

My bottom line today: claiming a special word from the Lord is not something that people of faith should be flippant or dismissive about. It should be seldom invoked, and never without careful consideration.

"Let the prophet who has a dream tell his dream, but let the one who has my word speak it faithfully. For what has straw to do with grain?" declares the Lord. "Is not my word like fire and like a hammer that breaks a rock in pieces?" Jeremiah 23:28, 29

Good stuff.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

In lieu of sleeping, I suppose I can introduce myself to you, oh (hypothetical) reader.

I am nineteen years old and a freshman studying Communications at the prestigious University of Illinois. I've been a Christian for most of my life but didn't really know what that meant until around a year and a half ago. Since then, discussing theology and the ins and outs of Christian doctrine with my posse of friends has become one of my favorite hobbies.

To that end, I start this blog in order to express my thoughts in writing. Also, I think this will have a therapeutic effect on me.

So then, back to the Elephant. According to the parable, there was a wise prince whose ministers loved to debate over the sayings of the Buddha. One day the debate became especially heated, and the prince could stand the endless prattle no longer.

He commanded that several blind men be brought in from the streets. After that, he commanded an elephant brought in. He looked at his ministers, silent now with the appearance of the elephant, and said "Now, gentlemen, show the blind men the elephant."

The blind men slowly approached and examined the great beast. One man touched the trunk, another the tusk, another the ear, and the last the tail. The prince then asked each man, "What is an elephant?"

The first man replied, "The elephant is like a snake, long and sinuous."

The second man replied, "No, the elephant is sharp and hard, like a spear."

The third man replied, "No, the elephant is like a great fan."

The fourth man replied, "No, all of you are wrong! The elephant is like a thick broom."

The four blind men then began loudly arguing amongst themselves. The prince turned to his ministers. "Now tell me", he said slyly, "which of these blind men is wrong about the nature of the elephant?"

"None", the ministers lamely responded.

"And which of them is right?"

"None", the ministers sighed.

"My friends, take this to heart", said the prince. "There are things beyond what we can rightly know, beyond our understanding. And while each of you may have ahold of a piece of the truth, none of you can comprehend the whole truth, just as these blind men cannot comprehend the whole elephant.

But, if these men were to listen to each other, instead of just arguing, then they could perhaps come to understand the whole elephant. So it is with you: if you perhaps listen to one another then perhaps the whole truth will be arrived at."

Thus I dedicate this blog to the Elephant, and the wisdom and patience it represents. If only more people of faith would come to understand the Elephant; which by the way, if you want another word on the Elephant besides the Buddhist tradition, take a gander at Romans chapter 14. Good stuff.

Initial Post

My goodness. I have decided to start my own blog. We'll see how long I keep this up.

Why Elephant Musings. Well, Elephants are truly noble creatures. And, more importantly to our purposes, the Elephant is the subject of a very ancient Buddhist parable. It is too late for me to go into it now, but suffice it to say that this blog will serve as a medium for my musings on theological issues.

Yes, indeed.