I had a couple of moments this week that disturbed me a little - and both related to Bob Brown. Anyone who knows me will attest that I don't have much time for the former leader of the Greens, or his party. I have found some of their policies a bit too 'left' for my liking, somewhat naive and outside of my Christian worldview. However, whilst sitting in a car park waiting to take my son home from college I heard Bob being interviewed, and disturbingly, I liked some of his answers to the questions he was being asked.
Now you could be cynical - goodness knows I am when it comes to politicians - and suggest that Senator Brown is adopting a friendlier, more relaxed and conciliatory stance since he announced his resignation from Parliament, but the views he expressed seem to be consistent with the policies and attitudes of the Australian Greens during their history. He made a very good point in suggesting that the two major parties were operating under an old-world paradigm of 'us vs. them' or 'labour vs. management' rather than the new-world paradigm of us all occupying this world together. He talked about his concern that both parties are supporting the type of policies that see the rich getting richer and the poor getting poorer and that someone should be going in to bat for the poor and social equity. He also noted that the answer to much of our social ills isn't more central control or smaller government but something in between. And I don't think any of us would argue that serious attention needs to be given to our health care system and education.
I may not like a lot of what Bob Brown says, but I did like that.
Then he received an interesting video question from a bloke in Orange. Basically this man considered himself an environmentalist and thanked Bob for his work in this area over the years, particularly his protection and advancement of environmentalism in Tasmania. However, the 'man-from-Orange' did have something of a problem - he was a follower of Jesus Christ and asked Mr. Brown how, despite the Greens having policies he agreed with on environmental issues, he could vote for them in good conscience given his religious persuasion.
Bob's reply was interesting. He said he had been raised as a Presbyterian and that he felt many of the Greens' policies were consistent with the teachings of the New Testament he remembered growing up. Specifically, 'Do unto others as you would have them do unto you,' meant looking out for people and ensuring we have a society that proactively meets the needs of the majority of the people in our nation. He also brought up, 'Love your neighbour as yourself,' which he understood to mean caring for the poor, the marginalised and - get ready for it - asylum seekers. (You can say what you like about the pros and cons of our asylum seeker policy, I just have a hard time seeing Jesus turning people away or interning children....)
Bob, stop playing with my head, I want to continue disliking you and seeing you as a crack-pot.
But wait....there's more....my second disturbing moment came the next day when, on social media, I noticed some other Christians had also heard Bob's interview, but their reaction was very different to mine. In short, they were horrified that a man who supports abortion, euthanasia, the legalisation of marijuana and gay marriage should dare to compare his policies to the teaching of Jesus! And they had the Bible verses to prove it!!
Please don't think for a moment that I am in favour of abortion, or legalised marijuana, or euthanasia, or gay marriage (although I think there is a place for civil unions, and that marriage will be redefined soon anyway - but that's another post I guess). What disturbed me was the lack of grace, tolerance and Christian charity and the abundance of anger, zeal and self-righteous condemnation that was evident. Attributes that seem more in line with the Pharisees and teachers of the law than Jesus the Messiah.
As followers of Jesus we can do better than this. We can be thankful when people we might strongly disagree with find some inspiration from the teachings of our Lord, we can be loving when disagreeing and reconsider using the Bible as a club studded with proof-texts to beat people with. As followers of Jesus we can give thoughtful consideration to the political parties in our nation and how we can encourage our political leaders to work towards a gentler, fairer, more caring society.
The role of the church (the called out members of Jesus' body) isn't to abandon politics until Jesus comes to take us away from this horrible world - that's dualistic gnosticism that has no place in a Christian paradigm or support from the Bible; but neither is it to take over government and institute some sort of theocracy - that's some sort of militant neo-post-millennialism that ignores the fact that OT Israel and NT Israel (all believers) are different beasts, and every time the church has gained supreme political power it's seriously damaged both the Kingdom of God and the people being governed.
No, the role of the church, as clearly spelled out in Romans 13:1-7 isn't to revile, replace or unquestioningly support the political powers, but to remind them that all power - political, economic, military, cultural etc. - is ultimately answerable to God and as his representatives on this earth we are to hold them accountable. Jesus, Paul, Peter, John, James, nor any of the NT authors sought to impose Christian values on their society, which was far more messed up than ours. (Anyone heard of Nero?) Indeed Paul goes so far as to write, "What business is it of mine to judge those outside the church?" (1 Cor. 5:12) All the NT writers make it clear that the church is to live as visible proof that Jesus has become king and to remind those in all levels of authority that they are accountable to the king for what they do with the power they have.
There is so much more to say, and so many questions to be answered. The presence of God's kingdom isn't seen through repressive 'righteousness through legislation' but through gracious transformation by self-giving love. I don't know how to hold the powers accountable, but I'm prayerfully considering what that might look like. What I do know is that when people like Mr. Brown are working in ways that would make Jesus smile I can thank him and perhaps engage on other issues; and when he supports things that I feel are not acceptable to my Christian faith, I can respectfully debate with him and graciously present my different viewpoint.
My Lord didn't conquer his opponents through power and might, but through grace and sacrificial love. Perhaps we, his followers, might consider doing the same.
I was asked a question this week, 'Is life a moving target?', meaning, 'Is there way we can get a handle on things that simplifies focus, like just love Jesus, just serve Jesus?' My first thought was, 'Which Jesus?' because my experience has been that there are many different Jesus' depending on our concept of him - and, he keeps moving.
Before you get all concerned and start quoting 'Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever,' (Heb. 13:8), which in context is actually referring more to his covenant faithfulness than any perception of 'change' in our immutable and impassable God (however you view that), I'm certainly not suggesting that Jesus is as changeable as the weather, petrol prices, or the form of some football teams (which is playing havoc with my tipping by the way). I am suggesting, however, that Jesus keeps moving because my understanding of him and knowledge of him, through both study and experience, keeps growing and changing, and therefore my concept of him does as well.
It would be a terrible thing if the understanding and image I had of Jesus as a twelve year old that had just come to faith was the same today after almost thirty-seven years as a believer. So go ahead, choose to just love Jesus, and just serve Jesus, but be careful, because if that is what you do, then despite your best efforts he will move because you will change.
In Philippians 3 Paul expresses his earnest desire to know Christ and to press forward in a greater understanding of him. I can identify with this. The depth, wonder, complexity and immensity of Jesus is still captivating me after all these years. He is a Lord who can be known, and yet never fully known. How could my finite little head possibly grasp the incarnate and resurrected Son of God?
Karl Barth, on being asked in 1962 how he would summarise all the words he had written famously replied, 'Jesus loves me this I know, for the Bible tells me so.' At the core this Jesus of Nazareth - this Saviour and Lord and God and King - is love. His love toward us, toward you and me, is so very deep and so very great. Undeserving though we are and rebellious though we may be, Jesus loves us. And yet, fixed as this truth may be, to truly know him requires that we are constantly evolving in our understanding of this moving target.
Being a disciple of Jesus Christ means living without a comfort zone. As soon as you get comfortable, he changes the furniture. Not in a radically irrational or erratic manner, but in a fundamentally disturbing and subversive way. There are always aspects of Jesus life and teaching that challenge our life and thinking. In many ways following Jesus is like those late-night adverts on tv. Before they advise you of the price there is the customary, '...but wait, there's more.' Jesus is like that, except the price has been paid, all we do is follow the instalment plan of taking up the cross daily. This means that just when you thought you had a handle on things, he leads you to an area, a thought, an understanding, a practice that not only redefines what you thought you knew, but gives far greater clarity and challenge to the life of Christian discipleship.
I remember reading a book once entitled, 'A few things I've learned since I knew it all,' which I think sums up the experiences we have with Jesus. To know his love through his Word is the beginning of a life's journey of a constantly growing and deepening understanding of just who he is, why that matters, and how it is expressed in my life. That's why there is great danger to see the Bible as a book of life principles to apply, promises to appropriate or instructions on how to live. The Bible is an interactive, personal connection with Jesus himself meeting us in his Word by his Spirit. Through it's pages I am drawn in to understand and engage with him and be changed and challenged to live out of all he is and all he does.
Jesus never stops moving because I never stop learning and growing and changing. Jesus never stops moving because he is always encouraging me and commanding me and cajoling me to press on and in and be transformed and shaped to be more like him.
So, really, who is moving? Jesus or me? Yes. You see, I have to move, for all the reasons given above. There is no standing still, there is only pressing forward or falling back, because Jesus also moves. Perhaps not in a theologically definable way, but certainly in an experientially discernable way. One of the truths of the Bible is that we become like what we worship. That is why when we worship idols or images that are less than the image of God we were created to reflect, we actually become more and more dehumanised; but when we worship Jesus, the image of God, and we become more like him, we become more and more fully human in every way. Jesus moves because the image of him in my understanding is redefined and transformed as my mind is renewed. I pursue and seek to be like this new image, and as I do, he moves again and with new understanding and clarity I follow and pursue this new image....
So, Jesus, please don't stop moving. In my own way I, like Paul, want to know him and pursue him, and to do that effectually means he must continue to move even as I continue to change. To live is to change, and to live with Jesus is to change with him as in a beautiful dance where, fortunately, he leads and we follow.
Perhaps, then, this entry shouldn't have been titled, 'Will you stop moving,' but, 'Teach me to dance!'
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......
