We had a cross in church on Sunday. That may not seem like such a big deal, but we meet in a school auditorium and don't have a cross very often (meaning, once every couple of years). As I looked at the cross I was reminded of an article recounting the Easter address by Cardinal Keith O'Brien, Britain's senior Roman Catholic cleric, calling for Christians to wear crosses as a statement against the growing marginalization of religion. Whatever your view of the wearing of the cross, his point is that at a time when there is a case before the European Court of Human Rights to allow workers to wear crosses if they wish, a statement needs to be made in support of faith against rampant secularism. The plaintiffs in the case have been banned from wearing crosses because as a religious symbol it may be offensive to other people.
It adds to another story I heard listening to a Tom Wright lecture a few months ago where an Anglican minister went into a jewellery shop to buy a cross and was asked by the attendant if he wanted one with a little man on it. In our secular, post-Christian society you have wonder about whether people are offended by a cross, or if it is just seen as a piece of jewellery.
Anyway, in considering the cross on Sunday it occurred to me that whatever the European Court decides, the Bible has already advised us of this stunning fact - the cross is supposed to be offensive! (Gal. 5:11)
Paul's point in Galatians 5 is that where membership of the covenant people of God used to be marked by adherence to the law, God's new covenant people are distinguished by faith, and not just faith, but faith in one who was rejected and cursed (Gal. 3:1-14). This cross is, then, offensive since it undermines our own natural pride, self-righteousness, ability and religious observance and requires we abandon all to trust in Christ. Paul, a man who had every right to trust in his natural ethno-cultural position and ability, has done so, rejecting them all in favour of Jesus the Messiah (Phil. 3:3-8)
The startling and disturbing truth is that whether you wear a piece of religious jewellery or not, and whether your cross has a little man on it or not (my faith tradition tends not to, but I get both sides of the argument), a cross shaped life will always be offensive. It isn't the religious symbolism that is offensive and disruptive to this world's systems and philosophies, but the type of life that the cross represents. A life that recognises Jesus is Lord, and no other powers or authorities are; and that Jesus is the world's true king, and no other usurpers or pretenders to the throne are; a life that proclaims the liberating presence of this alternative kingdom of God against the slavery of all other kingdoms and systems.
The cross is offensive because a represents the victory of love, grace and justice over hate, hurt and injustice; the cross is offensive because it represents the triumph of selfless service and sacrifice over selfish exploitation and greed; the cross is offensive because it reminds us that God will demand justice when he makes all things right and we will answer to him, either in Christ or on our own; the cross is offensive because it reminds us that there is a different way to live, an new way of being human, that is a difficult and narrow road rather than the old, easy way, that actually dehumanises us and further distorts the image of God in our lives; and the cross is offensive because it calls us to bow the knee and worship a king crowned with thorns, who conquered through suffering, and lives through my surrendered life. There is more, but basically the cross is offensive because it represents everything I'm not, values all that this world rejects, and offers live through death, freedom through surrender, and a glorious future through a shameful past.
And as I ponder this, I wonder just how cross-shaped my life is. As I live and work in a comfortable Western nation, with peace and security, in my own home, with modern conveniences and health care, with food in the fridge and a car to drive, generally accepting of an economic system that protects the rich at the expense of the poor, I wonder just how cross-shaped my life is. I wonder if far too often the Christianity we hear preached today is slanted to appeal to my baser nature and to my desire to be more prosperous and comfortable and successful. A gospel that guarantees all that anyone naturally desires would seem to have lost the offense, and so I wonder if what I preach and teach, if what I hear and see and read represents this offensive gospel or panders to the passions and desires of culture and fallen human nature.
It seems to me that a cross-shaped life is costly and risky and, yes, painful. Yet it also seems to me that this life is one of joy and peace and love and community and hope and justice and grace. It seems to me that, as usual, pursuing the way of Jesus, counter-intuitive though it is, will actually bring all that my heart could truly desire, albeit in an unexpected and surprising way.
So whether I wear a cross or not, ultimately the call of Christ, my Lord and King, is to humbly and simply follow him. And if I do so in any manner that is reflective of his gospel and kingdom, my life, my cross-shaped life, will be offensive to the powers but proclaim liberty and freedom to the captives. Then perhaps they too will survey this wondrous cross, and bow the knee to the King, and obey his command to daily take up their cross and truly live as the redeemed humanity we are all called to be.
The title of this post was the closing sentence of my talk on Sunday morning as we considered the entry of Jesus to Jerusalem and prepared for Easter this weekend. Jesus entered the city to the acclaim of the crowds as he consciously and explicitly inflamed Messianic expectations by riding into the city on a donkey in fulfilment of Zechariah 9. The crowds called out 'Hosanna!' (Lit. 'We beseech you, save us, liberate us!') and named Jesus variously 'son of David' and 'He who comes in the name of the Lord.'
Luke records that as he viewed the city of Jerusalem before him Jesus weeps for it in recognition of the judgement that will come within a generation. Jerusalem and the temple destroyed by the Romans and over a million people massacred. The sorrow and heaviness of heart we see in Jesus is in marked contrast with the celebrations around him. As the people hoped that this Messiah would bring liberation and the disciples hoped that he would finally throw off all pretence and rally the nation to his cause, Jesus wept for the city and steeled himself for the coming week. It was Sunday, but Friday was coming.
All across Australia people are getting ready for Easter. For many it's a cause to celebrate - a long weekend, time with family and friends, kids anticipating chocolate and treats, and for most people, barbecues, beer and relaxation. I'm under no illusion that Easter is seen as the holiday where we remember the death and resurrection of the Son of God any more than Christmas is really seen as the birth of Jesus. Ours is a secular society, but thankfully the vestiges of our Christian past are glimpsed in our post-Christian culture with holidays that carry the echoes of their original meaning. I don't mean 'thankfully' because I think there is value in hanging on to religious meaning or cultural overtones that were more cosmetic than genuine, but because, as a Christian, I am glad that whatever these holidays mean for my culture, they have significance for me, and I am afforded the time to appreciate it.
How about you?
As followers of Jesus how do we view Easter? I could, right now, easily jump on one of my personal band-wagons and rant about the importance of being in church - your own local church - on Sunday. I could reiterate my conviction about the importance of the body of Christ being seen in its local, visible, corporate expression on what is, arguably, the most important Sunday of the year. But I won't (oh wait, maybe I just did??)
What was going on that Easter long-weekend around 33AD? Obviously Jesus' plans and those of the disciples were very different. As they were getting ready for beer, barbecues and chocolate - and possibly the revealing of Messiah (!), Jesus was preparing for torture, death, and the greatest battle humanity has ever seen. So what was going on?
Can I say that if, as Christians, followers of Jesus Christ, we think Good Friday was about Jesus dying on the cross for our sins and Sunday was about him rising from the dead so that we can also enjoy resurrection empowered life, we've totally missed the point. Both of these things are true, but only a part of the cosmic drama being enacted in Jerusalem.
In the story of Adam and Eve we see sin as the breaking of their covenant with God and spiritual death as their separation from their Creator; in the story of Israel we see their sin as the breaking of their covenant with God and exile as their separation from him; Jesus enacts, on the cross, the fulfilment of the covenant and the return from exile. As the perfect human being and the ideal Israelite, he does for the world and for Israel what we couldn't do for ourselves. Jesus becomes the sacrificial Passover lamb; he is faithful to the covenant; he gives ultimate meaning to every sacrifice and offering in the law; he suffers the righteous wrath and judgment of the Father; he endures and conquers all the violence and hate the powers unleash on him; he embodies the love that overcomes sin, death and satan; he wins the battle that sees him confirmed as king and Lord of the world; he completes return from exile, freedom from oppression, and the reconciliation of God to his people not only for Israel, but for all humanity. Jesus, on the cross, inaugurates the Messianic kingdom not only for Israel, but for the world.
The climax of history, the centre-point of the story of God and his creation, is a cross outside Jerusalem.
On Friday Jesus completes the work he became human to perform, and as he dies, proclaims, 'It is finished!' God has done his work, and as on the sixth day of creation determines it is very good. And on the seventh day, the Sabbath, he rests.
Sunday. The first day of the new week, the first day of the new age, Jesus rises from the dead. This Messiah, this Lord, this God-become-man, is vindicated and rises as the embodiment of the promise of justification and resurrection for all those who will place their faith in him. Jesus didn't die so that we could go to heaven with him for eternity. That was never a Jewish eschatology and certainly isn't a Christian one. Jesus died to not only bring redemption to an exiled human race, but to bring the promise of renewal and transformation to a creation that Romans tells us, '(has been) subjected to frustration...in the hope that creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.' (Rom. 8:20-21) Jesus gave his life so that, in this new Messianic age he inaugurated, all of creation begins its journey to the day when he will return, the kingdom will be revealed in all it transformative glory, and God will finally complete his work of putting all things right.
Through Friday's cross and Sunday's empty tomb Jesus accomplished and confirmed the kingdom promise of new heavens and new earth, lovingly and gloriously transformed and renewed by God. The Jewish hope of resurrection in God's kingdom is embodied as Jesus exits the tomb, and the Christian hope of his return is anticipated as we experience the reality of his kingdom through his Spirit and as the guarantee his resurrection manifests crashes upon our world. The battle is won, Jesus is Lord, the kingdom is here, and one day all things will be right.
The cross isn't about Jesus dying for our sins, it's about God completing his redemption story and putting right everything that went wrong. We may not see the culmination, the ultimate resolution yet, but as surely as Jesus rose on Sunday we will see it one day.
So rather than wishing you a happy Easter, I'd like to wish you a thoughtful one. One in which we all see that Good Friday and Easter Sunday aren't about barbecues and chocolate eggs, or about your relationship with God, but rather are far more comprehensive and far-reaching than that. And as we do, as we consider all that Jesus has done to bring the reality of God's redeeming, reconciling love to our world, consider also what that means in our lives. If this new kingdom age is seen and known through those who follow Jesus as Lord, what does it look like through my life....through yours.
You see, whatever else Easter may mean, it has to mean that life can never be the same for us. As the carriers of this good news and the representatives of God's new humanity Easter is a reminder that we are to be for our world what Jesus was for his: humble servants of the great redemptive purpose of God. So, ultimately, Easter isn't about what you do or where you are this weekend, but who you are - today, tomorrow, Friday, Sunday and every day of your life.
One of our pastors spoke on Sunday morning about 'New Testament Temples', referring to believers as the temples of the Holy Spirit, the jars of clay that carry a treasure within. It got me thinking about temples, places of worship, and the disturbing truth that this image conveys.
Temples aren't unique to Judaism, many religions and faiths around the world have temples. Christians may not have temples, but over the centuries have built beautiful cathedrals, abbeys and churches that carry a similar idea. Temples, cathedrals, places of worship, are where you meet with God.
For Israel the Temple was the visible expression of God dwelling with his people. It was the place where heaven and Earth overlapped, where human and divine came together. The Temple was the house of God. It's the same concept that is evident in many religions, irrespective of the name they give to the place where they come to worship. I've been to many great temples and cathedrals over the years, and they are built in a way that is intended to convey a sense of awe on those who enter. I remember as a boy entering Selby Abbey, York Minster, Westminster Abbey and St. Paul's Cathedral in London and being overwhelmed with a sense of 'God.' When I was in Chiang Mai, Thailand, a couple of years ago we visited a Buddhist temple and the architecture was designed to produce the same effect. I may not have been sensing 'God' in that building, but I was struck with a 'quiet' and the idea that this was so much bigger than me.
All these places of worship are intended to remind us that there is something greater and more powerful than us, something that is worthy of our worship. Modern expressions of church are no different. We tend to build large buildings with the latest audio/visual technology and lighting systems, places that impress by their contemporary architecture or their expensive finish. We cite a desire to only give God our best, to have a culture of 'excellence', and use loaded phrases such as 'serving the house' and 'the vision of the house' to reinforce our message that this is the place where you and your friends can find God. It's a beautiful place, a place that screams prosperity and success, and by worshiping and serving here you can also share in that prosperity and success.
I believe human beings have an innate sense of 'sacred space' and whatever our culture, from Pagan altars to Aztec pyramids to varied temples to cathedrals and modern spaces, humans are encouraged to recognise and serve these spaces - for this is where you meet God.
Except.....that's not the message that Jesus brings. I'm not trying to criticise how we do church (well ok, maybe just a little), because I think the implication of scripture is far more challenging and revolutionary. I am part of a faith community, we gather in a building on a Sunday to worship, enjoy Bible teaching and share communion. We meet in a school hall, and what makes it sacred isn't the place, but the people who meet. It would be the same if we owned our own building, whatever that looked like. The place where we meet is, in many ways, irrelevant, because it's the people who are the temples and who, therefore, become the presence of God that fills the place.
I'm not buying into the decontextualisation of 'wherever two or three are gathered together, there I am in the midst.' Jesus is specifically relating that assurance to conflict resolution within the Christian community. I'm simply taking seriously the New Testament teaching that believers carry within the presence of the Holy Spirit, so that wherever they are, as temples, the presence of God is as well. Jesus put it like this, 'The hour is coming, and is now here, when the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and in truth.' Jesus was saying, 'Hey, location doesn't matter, people do.'
However you view what I have written so far, it may not seem too challenging or disturbing. Granted. But here's the thought that has remained with me all week, if a temple is a place to encounter God, a place where heaven and Earth overlap, then the New Testament teaches that wherever I go in my day-to-day life, I am, in that place and context, the overlap of heaven and Earth. It's another way of saying that all that heaven is, the love, joy, peace, mercy, grace, righteousness and justice of that here-and-not-yet age is present in me and through me.
Consider that a moment. Where you went today, or yesterday, or will be tomorrow. The things you do, the things you say, the choices you make, the way you interact, are all evidence - or can be - of the overlap between heaven and Earth. Where we go, what we do, how we are in our world can convey the beauty that we carry within, the promise of the soon to be revealed in all its glory kingdom of God.
I really don't have time or space to explore this any further, that will need another entry, but I'm not talking about some other-worldly or spooky, ethereal idea of heaven. I mean it in the solid, real, this-is-what-Jesus-imaged and all that we could ever hope for sense. Jesus didn't float through life barely aware of the world because he was all about heaven. The Jesus we meet in the gospels was very aware, very present, very connected to all that was around him, and yet lived in a way that conveyed very clearly the powerful and transforming presence of God's new kingdom age.
The Celtic church borrowed a concept from their existing culture to explain this overlap where we meet God: thin places. The idea is that there are places in the world where the membrane, the divide between our world and the spirit world is thin, and you can sense that, and maybe if you just reach out you will pierce that divide and commune with the spirits, or God in Celtic Christianity.
Think about this, in your world you are a thin place. In your home, in your work, in your school, in your Uni, in your sporting club or hobby group, at a concert or at play, you are a thin place. As people meet with you, as they talk and laugh and cry and interact with you, maybe, if they just reach out, as the Holy Spirit touches their hearts, they can meet with God.
That's the disturbing truth. God isn't seen in expensive buildings, in beautiful architecture or imposing construction. He isn't known by the prosperity of the houses we build to contain him (we don't put it like that, but that's the implication), or the service we render to further the goals of our local expressions. God is known and seen in the lives of living temples who demonstrate the presence of heaven on Earth. What Peter called 'living stones, being built up as a spiritual house.'
We gather in places to worship because it's convenient and human and Biblical, but not because that is where we meet God. We gather with God and his people, living temples, each one a beautiful and glorious expression of Jesus and his kingdom, each one a 'thin place' where in a mystical and visibly organic way those who meet with us can meet with our God.
And that is one of those truly 'Selah' thoughts.....
I am an only child. This has some enormous benefits, particularly when it comes to birthdays and Christmas. Add to the fact that my parents were told that they would never have children, that my father was a successful business man, and that they were thirty-six and forty-seven when I was born, it will come as no surprise that I was an extremely spoiled child. It's a mystery I ever became the wonderful person that I am......
My life was ripped apart when I was eight. My Dad, my hero, died. Mum never re-married, we emigrated to Australia where I had two cousins and their daughter. My family was very small. One thing I always wanted was a larger family. Brothers, sisters, a bunch of people to whom I belonged and who, in turn, belonged to me.
I found that family when I was twelve, that was my age when Jesus called me to follow him, and I became a part of that amazing, frustrating, loving, wonderfully flawed group of people we call 'the church.' In this group of people, this family of God, I have found what I had longed for all my life - family.
I have been a part of this family for thirty-seven years this year, and I love it more than at any other time in my life. This family isn't just made up of the people in my own local church community, beautiful and embracing thought they are, it is made up of believers across my city, my state, my country and this world. It is made up of people from all walks of life, all ethnicities, all socio-economic backgrounds, different political persuasions, and even 'ministers of religion.' I had lunch with a bunch of local pastors this week, and they are my brothers and sisters, and they are great!
This post isn't a fairy story, the church isn't perfect. We do some very dumb things, say some ill-thought out things, hurt people, disappoint people, exclude people, judge people, and provide fuel for all manner of criticism - much of it justified. The church is a long way from perfect. Like any family we have in-fighting, disagreements, favouritism, and all too often hold grudges. Just like any other family. And yet, I have found in the church, acceptance, support, encouragement, warmth, forgiveness, generosity and love. I have found people who will laugh with me, cry with me, hug me when I hurt and unconditionally be there for me when I am in need.
Just who are we, those of us who are a part of this family, this ekklesia, this church? We are lost people who have found a home in Jesus, sinners who have found forgiveness in Jesus, wanderers who have found direction and purpose in Jesus, pilgrims who have found spiritual reality and food for our souls in Jesus, as Newton so poetically put it, 'I once was lost but now I'm found, was blind but now I see.'
We aren't joined by a common goal - although we have one; a common belief - although we have one; a common world-view - although we have one; or a common history - although we have one. We are joined, as family, by a man, THE man, Jesus of Nazareth, the incarnate Son of God, who gave his life to make us one family and unites us by his Spirit alive within us. In Jesus we have the meaning of life and the Lord of the world. In Jesus we have found the one who is the head of this body, his family, and who calls us all to be more than we ever imagined was possible. God's perfect human being into whose image we are being changed; and humanity's perfect God, whom we worship and honour and love.
The church is terribly flawed and messed up, because I am. The church often fails her Lord, because I do. Whenever there is cause to point the finger and justifiably ask, 'Is that what the church is supposed to look like?' And we must answer, 'No,' we must also raise our hands and admit, mea culpa, because even if I am not guilty of the failings being raised, I am the church, and often guilty of so much more.
You see, this is my family. When it isn't perfect, it's still my family; when it's flawed, it's still my family; and when I'm embarrassed to admit it, it's still my family. And yet, there are those times, many times, more often than is trumpeted in the press or will be evident until the Day of the Lord, this strange family of people actually do great honour to their Lord as they reach out to the hurting and the needy and the marginalised and the poor. There have been countless times over the last thirty-seven years I have wanted to shout from the roof-tops, 'That's my family!!!! That's the church...'
I love this family. I count it a great joy and privilege to call these many followers of Jesus my brothers and sisters. They are mine and I am theirs. I belong. I belong not because of who I am but because of whose I am. Like so much in the Christian faith it's not about what I do but about what Jesus has done.
So today I wanted to appreciate this family that God has given me. And in the years I have left to help see more welcomed into my family, more loved by my family, more helped by my family, and pray that I will learn to look more like my Dad and my elder brother. Because a family that looks like that would be one anyone would want to be a part of.
I've been reading, thinking, praying and studying the gospel for a while now and have come to the conclusion that it isn't really what we think it is. I think N T Wright gets it correct - I was so tempted to say Wright gets it right, oops, I just did... - when he says, 'I am perfectly comfortable with what people normally mean when they say, 'the gospel.' I just don't think it is what Paul means. In other words, I am not denying that the usual meanings are things that people ought to say, to preach about, to believe. I simply wouldn't use the word 'gospel' to denote those things.' (What Saint Paul Really Said p. 41) Let me explain.
I tend to ask my Bible college classes a leading question, 'Did Jesus preach the gospel.' Some say, 'Yes, of course he did,' but are unsure how he could have because he wasn't dead yet. Some say, having jumped ahead of the previous lot, 'No, he hadn't died yet, so he couldn't have.' Some, in a little pain from sitting firmly on the fence, don't want to answer because they know what they think, but suspect the lecturer has a trick up his sleeve. Then we turn to Mark 1:14, 15 and read, 'After John was put into prison, Jesus went into Galilee, proclaiming the good news of God. (Yes, good news = gospel, in the Greek) "The time has come," he said, "the kingdom of God has come near. Repent and believe the good news (gospel)"
Jesus preached the gospel, the good news, but here's the problem. If the gospel is "You are a sinner, Jesus died for your sins, if you believe in him you can be saved and go to heaven," then we have a problem. That cannot be the gospel that Jesus preached. Are we sinners? Yes. Did Jesus die for our sins? Yes. If we believe in him can we be saved? Yes. And go to heaven? Yes, for a while, until he comes back..... (maybe that's another post). These things are true, but can I, with the learned Rev. Dr. Bishop Tom above suggest that these things are good and true, but not the gospel.
The gospel that Jesus preached wasn't about going to heaven when you die because the first century Jews he ministered to weren't looking for that. They knew that when they died they would go into the grave to wait for the day that the God of Israel would resurrect them to take their place in his worldwide kingdom centred on Jerusalem. And let's remember what we so often forget, Jesus wasn't primarily talking to 21st century Westerners, although his words are as much truth for us as for his original audience. He was talking to people to whom his words not only made sense, but carried authority.
Jesus' gospel wasn't intended to get people to 'make a decision,' pray a prayer, and hopefully show up at church the next week. Jesus' gospel was far deeper and richer and life-changing than that. Jesus' gospel was the gospel of the Kingdom! 'The kingdom of God has come near. Repent (change your mind and allegiance) and believe the good news.'
At that time the euaggelion, the gospel, the good news, was the announcement that a new king had been crowned and there would be peace in the land. The gospel that Jesus proclaimed was just that. Israel's God was fulfilling all his promises to his people and that through Jesus, the Messiah, he was now becoming King and Lord of the world. This king might not look like they expected; the kingdom might not look like they expected; and his victory certainly wouldn't look anything like they expected. Nevertheless, Messiah had come, sin, death and the powers would be defeated, and God was in the process of establishing his kingdom through Jesus of Nazareth.
This gospel means you cannot just make a decision, pray a prayer, and be assured of heaven. This gospel calls all those who hear it to faith and trust in Jesus and to live as if the kingdom of God is now present - because it is! That is the thrust of the beatitudes and the sermon on the mount and the many other teachings, stories and parables Jesus told. That is the reason Paul and James and Peter and John wrote to these young churches. Jesus taught us what it looks like when this kingdom is here and God is in charge; and the Apostles sought to help these struggling and fractured communities of faith, full of broken and flawed people like you and me, to live together in a way that reflected or 'witnessed' to this inconceivable truth. Jesus is king, he is Lord and Caesar isn't, sin, death and the devil are defeated by the cross, and the resurrection is the proof.
This gospel calls not for a decision but for repentance. That isn't a remorseful change of mind, but a change of life, of allegiance. There is a new king who demands a lifestyle around the values of his kingdom, and who has sent the Spirit to enable and empower those who respond to be his witnesses. This is the gospel lifestyle that is lived on the narrow road of Matthew 7:14; this is the gospel lifestyle of cross bearing in Luke 14:27; this is the gospel lifestyle of loving God and neighbour of Matthew 22, Mark 12 and Luke 10; this is the gospel lifestyle of the present, veiled kingdom of King Jesus that one day, at this return will be unveiled, and seen in all its power and glory.
You don't enter this kingdom by a decision or a prayer, but by a complete transformation of who you are by grace through faith. Our inability to 'count' decisions is probably a good thing, as we are too quick to celebrate our successes, and then lament the vast minority of those who actually continue to follow Jesus. In the end only God knows those who are in his kingdom, which is why we shouldn't be so quick to judge. I love the thought of another bishop, Desmond Tutu, 'We may be surprised at the people we find in heaven. God has a soft spot for sinners. His standards are quite low.'
It is instructive to note that in all the recorded gospel messages of the book of Acts, to Jews and Gentiles - or, the religious and the pagan - not once do they preach that we are all sinners and that Jesus is the sacrifice for our sins so we can go to heaven. Each time they tell the story of the faithful God of Israel, who is creator of the world, and has acted decisively in the death and resurrection of Jesus to once and for all defeat evil, bring reconciliation and peace between God and man, and made Jesus the Lord of the world. And then they call for repentance and faith and entry into this new kingdom lifestyle.
However you look at it, the gospel is good news. It is the best news. It is the news that through Jesus the kingdom of God is now here and we can live in the forgiveness, freedom and restoration of his image that it offers.
I want to say so much more, but I think I have said enough. My heart is, however, singing with praise to my great Father and wonderful Saviour who have, by the Holy Spirit, welcomed me into their kingdom. And it's true, although I may not act, speak, or think like I should, I AM WELCOME......and so are you......
I've noticed something over the last couple of weeks, the same thing I noticed last year, but I think it's even more noticeable: many of the students in my Bible College classes don't know their Bibles. I don't think it's a problem with the college or the students, I think it's a problem with contemporary Christianity, we don't know or read the Word of God.
When I became a Christian in 1975 - yes, I'm that old - I was given a little pack called a 'Commitment Pack.' In this folder were a few sheets of paper that would help me understand this new life I had embarked on and a part of the process was memorising scripture. I was also given a book, 'Getting into God' by D. Stuart Briscoe. It lead me through the basics of the Christian faith with questions to fill out, and verses to memorise. In short, these study aids introduced me to the Bible and the big picture of God presented in it's pages.
My understanding and knowledge of God and his Word have - thankfully - grown since those days, and I think a big part of that growth was the priority that was given to reading, studying and memorising scripture when I was young.
The man who pastored our church and his wife (no such things as 'pastoral couples' in those ancient days) were people who perhaps weren't the greatest leaders the church has ever seen, and didn't have the academic credentials of many, but they loved Jesus, they loved the people they were entrusted to shepherd in his name, and they loved the Word of God. My pastor had a big black leather Dakes study Bible. I have no idea who Dakes was or what his theological perspective was, but the Bible was impressive! I loved this couple who faithfully served God by caring for our little church (and I was scared of my pastor too! He was a BIG man and an ex-sergeant major in the British army....and I was twelve.) I guess what I'm saying is that the attitude they had to the Bible instilled in me a love for this book and a desire to know it more intimately.
I can't pretend that I have always been as diligent in my reading and study as I should have been, but the fact remains that from the beginning of my journey of faith the story of God and his work of redemption through Jesus have been important to me. I don't mean proof-texts or a verse here or there to pad out a sermon, but large chunks of the Bible that give context and perspective and illustrate how all these different books and authors are connected in telling this great and supremely important story.
This is what seems to be missing in many of the students and people I speak to. They seem to be able to quote and discuss popular Christian speakers or leadership gurus (Christian or not) far more than the book that is supposed to be the foundation for the Christian life. I'm not against reading and understanding the many teachers we have in the world today (well, maybe some of them.....) but when they have more influence on our lives than the Bible surely something is wrong.
Using random verses from the Bible to kick-start and pad our Sunday messages isn't developing a love for the Word of God in our churches. I'm not just talking about a return to expositional preaching in our churches (or maybe I am), I'm actually thinking that our church gatherings (my own included) need to give a greater priority to reading chunks of scripture than they do. When we devote more time to singing popular worship songs - good though they may be - than we do to the reading and teaching of the Bible something is wrong! The argument that people have a short attention span is a cop-out. We actually have churches full of people who can read Harry Potter or Twilight, so they can give time to and comprehend the unfolding narrative of God revealing himself to his world. This means that as pastors and leaders we have to give time to studying and preparing ourselves, and to working hard at our communication skills and connecting our people to the Bible story and encouraging them to live into it in their lives.
If we don't prioritise the Bible on Sundays, then expecting people to read it because we say so is pointless. Much of what is passed off as exposition these days is allegory, using the Bible way out of context to draw success principles from it's verses. That type of preaching might sell well, but history has shown that when our understanding of God is built on less than the very real and earthy narratives that make up the Bible, the Christian church has suffered and although many people have an experience of the Christian faith, they walk away finding it shallow, unsatisfying and ultimately irrelevant. Unsurprisingly like much of what we see in the Western world today. Maybe, just maybe, what we need aren't more gimmicks, slicker meetings, shinier events or shorter sermons, maybe what we need is a return to the Bible. After all, Peter rightly said, 'Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life.' (Jn. 6:68)
Reading chunks of the Bible isn't hard. Most of the letters in the New Testament, and many of the prophets, can be read in less than half-an-hour. The gospel of Mark can be read, in its entirety, in less than an hour. I believe that when we give time to investing in immersing ourselves (like baptising, get the clever connection I just made??) in the Word of God, the Holy Spirit works to grow our knowledge of God, our experience of God, change our character into the image of Jesus, and help us be a far better reflection of his presence in our world.
So be a radical, buck the trend, read and study and embrace and feast on large portions of the Bible. It isn't a magic book to teach you to be successful or rich; it isn't a handbook on how to live a good life; it isn't a book of promises you can manipulate God with; it's a book in whose pages you meet with the one who loves you, created you and died for you. The Bible is a book that reveals God's story, which is your story, and welcomes you into a relationship, a family and a kingdom that is all you ever hoped for and more than you ever dreamed of.
All in the pages of one remarkably unique book.
I've just finished preparing a talk on the Beatitudes, and am challenged and shaken again by the way Jesus calls his people to live. Jesus calls his followers to a whole new way of being human, a subversive and counter-cultural way of living out the transformational message of the kingdom of God. But as I read these verses from Matthew 5, I thought that maybe Jesus' message is so counter-cultural that it's easier to just ignore it.
I mean, seriously, Jesus calls the poor - don't get caught up in the 'in spirit' bit, Luke doesn't include it so Jesus means all aspects of poverty - the grieving, the meek, those seeking justice, the merciful, the pure in heart, the peacemakers and the persecuted, 'blessed'. These are the types of people he intends to build his kingdom with; these are the types of people who will carry the presence of Jesus with them into their world.
Hardly a dream team.
And, not to be out done, Paul adds, 'God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong. God chose the lowly things of this world and the things that are not - to nullify the things that are.' (1 Cor. 1:27-28) This does not seem to be shaping up to be a world changing movement. And although we might quickly exclaim, 'Praise God, he has chosen me, and I'm one of those lowly, foolish, weak things,' we probably don't actually believe that, and certainly don't want someone like that on our church staff.....
I remember being at a Conference when the guest speaker said, 'You can't build a church with broken people.' Which makes sense, except that those are the exact people that Jesus seems to be building his church with. Maybe that's the point. You can't build a church with broken people, so don't try, let Jesus build his church and go along for the ride. At another meeting recently the guest speaker led a group of pastors in declaring, 'We're not sheep!' (With a nod to twisting Rom. 8:36-37 out of its meaning) But I thought that was the point, we are sheep and Jesus is the great shepherd of the sheep!
This different way that Jesus taught and embodied isn't attractive or comfortable in our success-oriented, self-esteem and confidence promoting, positive/possibility-thinking, self-promoting and marketing culture. The way of Jesus is different. It is often difficult, always uncomfortable, character-oriented, self-denying, Spirit-dependent, humble, others-oriented and constantly 'boasting all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me.' (2 Cor. 12:9)
The way of Jesus doesn't sit well with the realities of life because it calls those who follow Jesus to deny self, to suffer if necessary, to be willing to be the nameless and faceless sheep through whom the presence of God can be seen. The way of Jesus is difficult to market and promote, it is easier to side-step these difficult concepts and irritating ideals and promote the self-help motivational mantras that will be acceptable to our culture. Positive thinking and confessions to improve your life rather than the call to lose your life in order to find it.
Am I being harsh? Am I being critical? Yes. I am writing for myself as much as anyone as I wrestle with what it means to live this different way and be true to the troubling and challenging and compelling vision of 'your will be done on earth as it is in heaven.'
Perhaps what we need to do is to step back and, putting aside all pre-suppositions and agendas, re-acquaint ourselves with the carpenter from Nazareth. In a world where we keep trying to go bigger and better and yet persist in becoming more irrelevant, perhaps we need to again sit at the feet of Jesus on the side of a hill in Matthew 5 and rediscover this very different way of doing faith and life.
Perhaps then we will abandon our selfish desire to change the world and become a part of the changed world that Jesus envisioned and embodied, and that God is bringing through him.
