So you're walking around in the year 14 AD in Jerusalem. It's a normal day. Caesar Augustus is king over all of the Roman Empire, which includes Israel. Suddenly, trumpets blast and everyone is called to attention. A royal announcement is about to be made. The messenger stands in a high place and shouts "The Gospel (Good News) According to Rome! There is a new Caesar, Tiberiuus Augustus! Long life to Caesar, and to Rome!" You have just heard a gospel message. Gospel, in the days of Jesus, was a technical term meaning that either a new heir was born or a new king was crowned. I think the Gospel writers were very particular when they chose the term "Gospel" to describe Jesus. The Gospel itself is a coronation story. Hebrews 1:1-3, our passage from Sunday, describes Jesus in a coronation process. He was not born a king, He did not live a king, but was raised to kingship because of the cross and resurrection (making purification for sins).
That's not the Gospel I so often hear, frankly, and that's a little disturbing. The themes are familiar, forgiveness and purification for sin. But the kingdom part is usually used as a synonym for Church-related stuff. Usually, the Gospel message is that of an evacuation from a disaster area. That is, things are so bad that we need to escape to a "heaven above" to get out of this irredeemable creation. So we get our forgiveness, which is our ticket of entrance, and we get out of Dodge before the real disaster begins.
That's not good news. At least it isn't Gospel good news. That's bad news. If we are waiting for the eradication of the material universe for an eternal existence in heaven, we are looking at the failure of the Creator to sustain material creation. That doesn't sit well with me.
The Gospel of Jesus Christ, however, is that there is a new king in this world. A conquering king, if you will, although his "weapons" are love, compassion and service. There is a man in heaven, who sits on the throne, and His name is Jesus. It is this moment of Jesus' coronation that Isaiah gets so excited about in chapter 9 (click Isaiah for the passage I'm talking about).
This Gospel screams good news. This Gospel is hope, this Gospel is motivation and energy. This Gospel rings true, and I hope it rings true for you as well.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011
Wednesday, November 23, 2011
Never Give Up: I need your voice
One of my favorite thinkers, Cornel West, was speaking and a phrase stuck out to me: "I need your voice." Sometimes, as a pastor and a frequent public speaker, I treat the space I inhabit as though it were in need of more of my voice. It is one thing to walk into a situation and believe that my voice is the one that will bring healing, it is another to walk into a situation and believe healing will occur when I can hear your voice.
The truth is, we need each others' voices. One thing that strikes me about Luke 18 is that the widow's voice goes so unheard until the twist ending to the parable. She is on the margins of her society, and her pleas have fallen on deaf ears. She is unheard in a community that is supposed to be oriented toward helping the powerless (Exodus 22:22). Yet, the judge hears her because of her incessant begging.
The parable is one of prayer. If an unjust judge would hear a powerless widow, whose only strength is her persistence and voice, then won't God hear us in our prayers? But we can't pray alone. We need each others' voices. We need voices that will pray when we lack the words, when we lack the ideas, when we lack the faith. We need people to pray for us, not just in the simple platitudes of "I'll pray for you," but in the real moments of our brokenness when we tremble to lift a single word.
I need your voice. We all do. There is no way we can go about the work of God without needing the prayers of one another. Sometime in churches we give out the message (intentionally or otherwise) that there are two kinds of people: people who do God's work and people who pray for people who do God's work. This is not the case. We are all called to be both kinds of people. How could we pray for God's work without wanting to get involved? How could we be involved and never pray? Indeed, prayer calls us to action; action calls us to prayer. And we need to do both together.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. May it be a time of togetherness for you.
The truth is, we need each others' voices. One thing that strikes me about Luke 18 is that the widow's voice goes so unheard until the twist ending to the parable. She is on the margins of her society, and her pleas have fallen on deaf ears. She is unheard in a community that is supposed to be oriented toward helping the powerless (Exodus 22:22). Yet, the judge hears her because of her incessant begging.
The parable is one of prayer. If an unjust judge would hear a powerless widow, whose only strength is her persistence and voice, then won't God hear us in our prayers? But we can't pray alone. We need each others' voices. We need voices that will pray when we lack the words, when we lack the ideas, when we lack the faith. We need people to pray for us, not just in the simple platitudes of "I'll pray for you," but in the real moments of our brokenness when we tremble to lift a single word.
I need your voice. We all do. There is no way we can go about the work of God without needing the prayers of one another. Sometime in churches we give out the message (intentionally or otherwise) that there are two kinds of people: people who do God's work and people who pray for people who do God's work. This is not the case. We are all called to be both kinds of people. How could we pray for God's work without wanting to get involved? How could we be involved and never pray? Indeed, prayer calls us to action; action calls us to prayer. And we need to do both together.
Have a wonderful Thanksgiving. May it be a time of togetherness for you.
Tuesday, November 22, 2011
God is Holy and Merciful: The pointof it all
I was traveling on Saturday and was unable to post, but I don't feel like I can simply walk away without talking about the third aspect to confession- transformation and re-commitment. After all, this may be the point of confession.
I have viewed, in the past, confession (to God) as repairing a broken relationship. But the more I think about it, my former view of confession can lead in a pretty scary direction; that is, that my relationship with God is ultimately on me. In this view, the death of Jesus is the key that I need to open the door. It is of no surprise, then, that confession became a source of power for religious authority and fear in the hearts of Christians everywhere. But is that what confession is about?
I lean heavily on last week's post about identity. If my identity is truly that I am claimed and united to God through Jesus, and if I believe Paul that nothing can sever that connection, then is it possible that our confession is what is necessary to set our relationship with God right again? I believe so. I believe that our unity with Christ doesn't change, despite our actions.
So confession, then, is something different. I believe that confession is about transformation and becoming more like Christ. If we don't go back and get honest about our pains and afflictions, our disobedience and our "junk," it won't get healed.
Imagine going to the dentist. I know, it's painful for me too. But imagine going and having the dentist ask you "Have you been brushing and flossing?" You lie and say "All the time." The dentist turns and says "Okay, see you next year." Would that be effective? No, the dentist would take a look anyway and catch your dishonesty. And then will come the cleaning. The same thing works with confession. God knows our junk, and remains united to us anyway. Our honesty opens us to healing.
Healing is our eventual transformation. At the dentist, our teeth are cleaned and we are given a lesson on the importance of oral hygiene. Before God, we are forgiven and God (though the Holy Spirit) begins to shape and teach us a new and better way of being. May we all seek that way as we go about our lives.
I have viewed, in the past, confession (to God) as repairing a broken relationship. But the more I think about it, my former view of confession can lead in a pretty scary direction; that is, that my relationship with God is ultimately on me. In this view, the death of Jesus is the key that I need to open the door. It is of no surprise, then, that confession became a source of power for religious authority and fear in the hearts of Christians everywhere. But is that what confession is about?
I lean heavily on last week's post about identity. If my identity is truly that I am claimed and united to God through Jesus, and if I believe Paul that nothing can sever that connection, then is it possible that our confession is what is necessary to set our relationship with God right again? I believe so. I believe that our unity with Christ doesn't change, despite our actions.
So confession, then, is something different. I believe that confession is about transformation and becoming more like Christ. If we don't go back and get honest about our pains and afflictions, our disobedience and our "junk," it won't get healed.
Imagine going to the dentist. I know, it's painful for me too. But imagine going and having the dentist ask you "Have you been brushing and flossing?" You lie and say "All the time." The dentist turns and says "Okay, see you next year." Would that be effective? No, the dentist would take a look anyway and catch your dishonesty. And then will come the cleaning. The same thing works with confession. God knows our junk, and remains united to us anyway. Our honesty opens us to healing.
Healing is our eventual transformation. At the dentist, our teeth are cleaned and we are given a lesson on the importance of oral hygiene. Before God, we are forgiven and God (though the Holy Spirit) begins to shape and teach us a new and better way of being. May we all seek that way as we go about our lives.
Friday, November 18, 2011
God is Holy and Merciful (2 Chronicles 6): Hearing Who I Am... Again
It is amazing to me how often the Bible repeats itself. Kings and Chronicles are two perspectives on the same stories, the crucifixion shows up in four books of the Bible, and the 10 Commandments show up in two places. It seems as though we human beings need a constant reminder of some things. One of the things we need constant reminder of is our identity.
Most of our learned identity is through two words: "Good" and "Bad." No matter what the identity is, you can be "good" or "bad" at it. I'm a good student, a bad auto mechanic, a pretty good kayaker, a pretty bad basketball player. We can be good citizens, bad consumers, I think we all get the point. Our identity is wrapped up in good and bad. That includes Christian. We think of ourselves as good Christians and bad Christians, and develop a set of criteria to judge whether or not we (or others) are good Christians or not.
Take a moment and do a Bible search for the phrase "Good Christian." Don't worry, I'll wait. If you want to speed up the process, just click this link for the results of a Bible Gateway search for "Good Christian."
Fascinating, eh? Something we worry about so much is not at all on the Bible's radar. In fact, when Jesus is called "good," His response is that only God is good (Mark 10:18). So why are we so fired up about good and bad?
God has other words to describe us: "God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved" (Colossians 3:12), "A chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God" (1 Peter 2:9), and others fit into a similar vein. Take this opportunity to reread 2 Chronicles 6. Over and over again, Solomon refers to Israel as "Your people;" that is, God's people. You are God's. You are not defined by your actions, you are defined by God. So when we get honest and declare before God the comfortable and uncomfortable truth, we are not forgiven because of how sorry we feel or how earnestly we want to "do better." We are forgiven because we are God's. And in that, I rest today.
Most of our learned identity is through two words: "Good" and "Bad." No matter what the identity is, you can be "good" or "bad" at it. I'm a good student, a bad auto mechanic, a pretty good kayaker, a pretty bad basketball player. We can be good citizens, bad consumers, I think we all get the point. Our identity is wrapped up in good and bad. That includes Christian. We think of ourselves as good Christians and bad Christians, and develop a set of criteria to judge whether or not we (or others) are good Christians or not.
Take a moment and do a Bible search for the phrase "Good Christian." Don't worry, I'll wait. If you want to speed up the process, just click this link for the results of a Bible Gateway search for "Good Christian."
Fascinating, eh? Something we worry about so much is not at all on the Bible's radar. In fact, when Jesus is called "good," His response is that only God is good (Mark 10:18). So why are we so fired up about good and bad?
God has other words to describe us: "God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved" (Colossians 3:12), "A chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God" (1 Peter 2:9), and others fit into a similar vein. Take this opportunity to reread 2 Chronicles 6. Over and over again, Solomon refers to Israel as "Your people;" that is, God's people. You are God's. You are not defined by your actions, you are defined by God. So when we get honest and declare before God the comfortable and uncomfortable truth, we are not forgiven because of how sorry we feel or how earnestly we want to "do better." We are forgiven because we are God's. And in that, I rest today.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
God is Holy and Merciful: The Importance of Being Honest
Being honest is hard. Well, sometimes. I am a mostly honest person, I think. I tell the truth to a reasonable degree. But the kind of honesty involved in confession is not just about giving a truthful answer when asked a question, it's about digging deeper and asking the real questions. In 2 Chronicles 6:29, Solomon describes this deep truth-telling: "each one aware of his afflictions and pains, and spreading out his hands toward this temple."
That kind of truth-telling is so hard. I could blame the dog-eat-dog world out there, or the society gluttonous on private information, or a myriad of things. But the truth is, I'm just scared sometimes. I shudder at the idea that I wouldn't look good, and tremble to think that my swirling mass of doubts and insecurities could possibly be known to the world.
And those things keep me trapped exactly where I am today. I can feel it in every aspect of my life that is changing. I can feel it when I have a conversation about HelpLink and poverty reduction in our county (Come on, Andy, you aren't qualified to be doing this). I can feel it in the midst of trying to become a better leader, pastor, husband, friend (Think of how many times you have screwed up already). And to be honest, sometimes knowledge is incriminating. When I learn that my way of being is harmful to others, I secretly wish that I could go back to before I knew anything. At least then I wouldn't be faced with the harsh prospect of change. I don't want to be aware of my afflictions and pains, sometimes. I mean, I do, but the ramifications are recognizing the impact of what I do and then trying to change.
If being honest is hard, change is even harder, but that's for another day. For today, I want to just note that when I say "be honest," this is not coming from a place of mastery. I don't come as a confession expert. I have taken some risks, yes, but I am also on the journey of becoming more and more honest myself. And it seems like every time I find a place of affliction, another one crops up. But I also believe that God is near and that I can walk this path, relying not on my strength but God's.
That kind of truth-telling is so hard. I could blame the dog-eat-dog world out there, or the society gluttonous on private information, or a myriad of things. But the truth is, I'm just scared sometimes. I shudder at the idea that I wouldn't look good, and tremble to think that my swirling mass of doubts and insecurities could possibly be known to the world.
And those things keep me trapped exactly where I am today. I can feel it in every aspect of my life that is changing. I can feel it when I have a conversation about HelpLink and poverty reduction in our county (Come on, Andy, you aren't qualified to be doing this). I can feel it in the midst of trying to become a better leader, pastor, husband, friend (Think of how many times you have screwed up already). And to be honest, sometimes knowledge is incriminating. When I learn that my way of being is harmful to others, I secretly wish that I could go back to before I knew anything. At least then I wouldn't be faced with the harsh prospect of change. I don't want to be aware of my afflictions and pains, sometimes. I mean, I do, but the ramifications are recognizing the impact of what I do and then trying to change.
If being honest is hard, change is even harder, but that's for another day. For today, I want to just note that when I say "be honest," this is not coming from a place of mastery. I don't come as a confession expert. I have taken some risks, yes, but I am also on the journey of becoming more and more honest myself. And it seems like every time I find a place of affliction, another one crops up. But I also believe that God is near and that I can walk this path, relying not on my strength but God's.
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
God is Holy and Merciful: Kneeling Up Front
2 Chronicles 6 details the dedication of the Temple, a proud and glorious moment for Israel, who has struggled with obedience and is short on proud and glorious moments. Yet, even in this great moment, there are things that Solomon does which just baffle the mind. In proud moments, we like to think of ourselves as standing strong. You never see a State of the Union address delivered kneeling down. In fact, our current president continues to take criticism for bowing to other world leaders (years ago). Kneeling is not a good sign, now or ever. Yet this is the posture Solomon chooses.
If I believe that Solomon was the wisest man to ever live (behind Jesus), then he must have had his reasons. And indeed, I believe that a lot of leadership comes from the posture of kneeling, even kneeling up front. Leaders are supposed to be strong and impenetrable. In the movie U-571, when a new submarine captain admits he doesn't know the right answer, only to be chided by his second-in-command for looking weak. We always need the right answer, and we need to always stand on our own two feet. This is to our detriment, I think. Solomon isn't afraid to kneel up front.
Leaders are people who have influence over others, whether that influence be in the context of family, church, community or business. If you have such influence, I would invite you to kneel more often. Remember that we are not kings and queens with our own little monarchies, but stewards of a great gift God has given us. And let that be known, let it be known that you are seeking after Christ and His Kingdom, let it be known that you are seeking to align your life in God's ways, and let it be known through your humility. Dictators use God's will as a hammer to their opponents, servants seek God's will as a corrective to their own. May we all find ways to humbly kneel up front this day.
If I believe that Solomon was the wisest man to ever live (behind Jesus), then he must have had his reasons. And indeed, I believe that a lot of leadership comes from the posture of kneeling, even kneeling up front. Leaders are supposed to be strong and impenetrable. In the movie U-571, when a new submarine captain admits he doesn't know the right answer, only to be chided by his second-in-command for looking weak. We always need the right answer, and we need to always stand on our own two feet. This is to our detriment, I think. Solomon isn't afraid to kneel up front.
Leaders are people who have influence over others, whether that influence be in the context of family, church, community or business. If you have such influence, I would invite you to kneel more often. Remember that we are not kings and queens with our own little monarchies, but stewards of a great gift God has given us. And let that be known, let it be known that you are seeking after Christ and His Kingdom, let it be known that you are seeking to align your life in God's ways, and let it be known through your humility. Dictators use God's will as a hammer to their opponents, servants seek God's will as a corrective to their own. May we all find ways to humbly kneel up front this day.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
God is Holy and Merciful: Does God really dwell with us?
One of the central features of Biblical spirituality is that God would dare to dwell with us. If we don't have God-with-us, we don't have much of a faith story to tell. In fact, all we would have is a set of morals and virtues to compete with other sets of morals and virtues. But we have far more than a moral guideline for right living; we have the audacity to claim a God who is close.
The Bible begins with God walking with the people in the Garden of Eden. It transitions next into the people fleeing from the Garden and the dance begins. God draws near at different times. Enoch, a character in early Genesis, is said to have walked with God. Noah walked with God. But God does not seek to walk one-on-one with us, God seeks to walk with us in community.
And so Abraham is called and his family walks with God to the Promised Land. They get detoured, and time turns the family into a nation in bondage. God calls Israel out of Egypt to walk with a pillar of fire and a cloud of smoke to the Promised Land. During that forty-year walk, they build a tent for God as a resting place. When they cross into the Promised Land, they build a permanent building in the Temple. And when it was completed, the people of Israel couldn't imagine it getting any better than that. A Temple where the nearness of God could be experienced was quite amazing. How could you get better than that?
God was not finished, though. Soon, God would dwell not in a beyond-belief building, but in a manger. Advent is only a couple weeks away, the time where we celebrate that the God of the universe would be fully present in Jesus Christ. If Solomon found it hard to believe that God could be confined to a building, imagine how he would respond if he knew that God would walk around as a person!
But that's enough from me, how about you- what does it mean to you that God would dwell with us?
The Bible begins with God walking with the people in the Garden of Eden. It transitions next into the people fleeing from the Garden and the dance begins. God draws near at different times. Enoch, a character in early Genesis, is said to have walked with God. Noah walked with God. But God does not seek to walk one-on-one with us, God seeks to walk with us in community.
And so Abraham is called and his family walks with God to the Promised Land. They get detoured, and time turns the family into a nation in bondage. God calls Israel out of Egypt to walk with a pillar of fire and a cloud of smoke to the Promised Land. During that forty-year walk, they build a tent for God as a resting place. When they cross into the Promised Land, they build a permanent building in the Temple. And when it was completed, the people of Israel couldn't imagine it getting any better than that. A Temple where the nearness of God could be experienced was quite amazing. How could you get better than that?
God was not finished, though. Soon, God would dwell not in a beyond-belief building, but in a manger. Advent is only a couple weeks away, the time where we celebrate that the God of the universe would be fully present in Jesus Christ. If Solomon found it hard to believe that God could be confined to a building, imagine how he would respond if he knew that God would walk around as a person!
But that's enough from me, how about you- what does it mean to you that God would dwell with us?
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