28 September 2010

giving over receiving

When I was in college I remember a theology professor ask the question, When was the last time you chose which church you were going to attend based upon what you could offer the community? Since most people don't see their Christianity in such terms, I immediately thought of this as a question rooted in self-arrogance rather than humble servanthood. But that is because I had a false understanding of servanthood - and gospel.

We are called to be workers for the kingdom of God, which means that we are summoned to be active in living out the faith. When we participate in a church community we are thus expected - the the definition of our own faith - to be doers of the Word, which means we ought to have a ministry to offer the body of believers. This is not arrogance, but the proper outworking of Christian faith.

In the last few months I have seen and heard many people leave one church for another. Without exception each one of these did so on the basis of what they are missing from the community. Translation: I am not receiving enough for myself. None of them have mentioned God's summons to another ministry or a different work somewhere else. The Americanized 'have-it-your-way' mentality has certainly won the day for many evangelicals. In fact, it has become so problematic that I recently had a leader in the servant-based ministry of visitation decide to abandon our congregation because another is friendlier.

I always thought that living the gospel was more about giving than receiving. Not just in those moments where we have to give a Christmas present that is greater than that which is reciprocated, but as a general life principle. Aren't we supposed to model the behavior which we saw in Christ Jesus, who . . . (Philippians 2 . . .)?

Because I didn't readily see this in my own ecclesiology, I thought the initial question was arrogant. Probably this happens to many who are in a culture which simply has their thoughts about church mixed up. At the end of the day, I am not interested in 'us-vs-them' approaches, nor am I concerned with how many people are going to be in this church over that church. Those debates can be fought among those who care little about the gospel. As for me and my house/church, we will follow the directives of the gospel and reach those who are desperate for the love of God.

This, of course, leads to one other point which I will leave dangling. So many times I think that the very frustrations we encounter in ministry are the same reasons why God has called us to a particular time and place. For if everything were nice and neat according to our perspective, then what work would there be for us to do?

22 September 2010

the great commission as restoration

Matthew 28:16-20 is typically referred to as The Great Commission, where Jesus commands the small gathering of believers to go into the world and make disciples in his name. Although it is an oft-quoted passage for the mission of the church, it nevertheless is absent from the remainder of the New Testament. This is alluded to in Chapter Three of Christopher J. H. Wright's latest book, The Mission of God's People (Zondervan, 2010), along with a few instances where the early church could have simply referred to Jesus' statement instead of working through the biblical story.

The question which Wright raises with this observation is, Where does the church gain its mandate for mission, if not from the words of Jesus? The answer is found in the gospel; the gospel presents itself as the fulfillment of the Scriptures, or the completion of the story of God. Hence, Wright advocates that the mission of God's people is found, and integrally bound, in the story of Israel. His conclusion regarding the Great Commission is thus, "It was the inevitable outcome of the story as the Scriptures told it - leading up to the Messiah and leading on to mission to the nations" (39).

What has struck me through this conversation (and I'm not entirely certain if this has been explored before, though I've not encountered it myself) is that what Matthew has given us at the conclusion of his narrative is the same perspective with which Luke begins Acts. This is the time of the restoration of Israel. As the disciples gather around Jesus at a post-resurrection meal they ask, "Lord, are you at this time going to restore the kingdom to Israel?" (Acts 1:6).

Jesus responds with two points: 1) "It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own authority" and 2) "But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth" (Acts 1:7). This statement in Acts is the same assertion given in Matthew: that the work of the church is to take the gospel, through the work of the Holy Spirit, to the world because of the restoration of Israel.

With everything which we should be able to expect from the "Jewish Gospel" Matthew gives the statement of Jesus, "After having gone . . ." or "As you go . . ." (etc.) make disciples of all nations. This can only be interpreted in light of the restoration of Israel motif which was so expected in Second Temple Judaism, as the fulfillment of Israel's narrative. This is the outworking of Jesus as the climax of Israel's story, now being given the rightful rule of messiahship as the one who holds "all authority in heaven and earth."

Matthew also gives the sense of messianic fulfillment in the Great Commission, as the project for the church is to make disciples who are baptized in the name of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. The restoration of Israel has indeed happened in and through Jesus, who now replaces Israel with his life, death, resurrection and present ruler of the nations. He is the representative of the chosen people of God who now sits upon the throne, completing the image of Daniel 7, as the one lifted from the earth and established by the Ancient of Days.

That his followers should make disciples rather than proselytes comes from the transfer from an age of the Law to the age of the Messiah, which has now come upon the world. This is the fulfillment of Israel's story, the restoration of the people of God, and the in-breaking of the eschatological expectations of salvation. Matthew offers for us here not simply a statement of 'doing' for the gospel (a simple "Go!" imperative), but a statement of mission and restoration for the people of God which now spills out to bless (cf. Genesis 12; 15) and include (cf. Joel 2:32) all who believe in Jesus as Messiah.

21 September 2010

the impossibility of moral evolution

Recently I was challenged on the notion of morality and ethics, specifically that morality was a product of the evolutionary process, devoid of any divine guidance or interaction. It is a statement made by an atheist, who must now defend whether or not there is truth and (more pointedly) ethics.

His exact words were: "The fact that people naturally develop morals happens by means of natural selection."

First, I believe that the fundamental burden of proof rests on those who make the assertion that morals can develop and evolve without the existence of god. This is because the most basic understanding of morality logically assumes a single standard (or rule) of thought in order to exist. In other words, it is the assumption that a moral standard is according to something, and the charge that ethics develop without a single standard is difficult to imagine.

Second, there is the existence of a common authority, to which atheists cannot appeal, since the absence of a deity leaves the individual as autonomous and sovereign. And billions of autonomous and sovereigns do not make a common authority without the presence of a standard thought. C. S. Lewis wrote, "Ninety-nine per cent of the things you believe are believed on authority" (Mere Christianity). The question which the atheistic mind does not answer is which authority one is to believe.

Third, if such a statement were true then we would find that it applies to all morality. But it doesn't. Even though the history of civilization has always seen the rise and fall of various moral systems, and even our recent cultural history has seen trends of moral consciousness and apathy, there have always been consistent thoughts regarding life and death. That there is a certain wrongness to taking another's life is always scrutinized. Sacrifices to gods are given justification for the act, and infant exposure must be explained away (just like in modern abortion arguments). But taking life is a moment in time - perhaps the pivotal moment - where morality appears and we must confront the reality of the source and meaning of life.

Although others have made more complete attempts at this argument (and have undoubtedly articulated it with greater clarity), I wanted to post a brief response to some of the immediate thoughts that I had to the aforementioned statement. The notion that morals are a product of natural selection is absurd, for it would mean that someone was behind the selecting . . . and those who deny the existence of a god cannot rightly appeal to a universal conscience without a massive problem. But that is the basis for which I gave my response to this misguided gentleman, albeit in a much shorter statement.

13 September 2010

Dr Vernon C Grounds

I now know why there was a certain comfort and joy in our modest church service yesterday, something which always catches you off-guard when you are fledgling through the transition from difficult circumstances. Later in the evening I received an email that informed me of the passing of Dr Vernon Grounds, longtime professor, president and chancellor of Denver Seminary . . . and, along with a seemingly endless parade of others, a friend.

Although you have a certain expectation that this day would come for someone who is ninety-six, the news still brought a tear to my eye as I remembered fondly the uniqueness of this man. I remember working at the seminary bookstore when, on many occasions, he would walk in singing an old tent-revival song or long-lost hymn from another era of evangelicalism. But that made sense, for he was alive before the rise of modern evangelicalism and has seen it move through a few generations - good and bad.

Many have had the privilege of sitting in his office on a given afternoon, talking with him as the rest of the world passed by, knowing full well that the off-the-cuff conversation you were having in this brief moment was worth more than a week's worth of talks with pastors and professors. He was an intellectual, but he used his intellect to serve the church, which is no longer a common trait among those in the academy. He was an ambassador, not only for Denver Seminary, but also for the evangelical message and for the kingdom of God. He was a counsellor, which drove him to continue meeting with people long into his retirement. And he was a servant, always carrying himself in such a way as to make others feel comfortable over his own needs and desires.

These qualities demonstrate a life changed by the cross of Christ. And we who knew Dr Grounds saw this readily in his daily walk. He will be missed; we who continue to push forward in the work of the church will do so now in the wake of his ministry. But now I know why there was a certain comfort and joy in our modest church service yesterday. Because God saw it a fitting tribute to one of his most gracious servants that we should experience a special blessing of his Spirit, an experience of Godly comfort and joy.

11 September 2010

september 11

“Now, we have inscribed a new memory alongside those others. It’s a memory of tragedy and shock, of loss and mourning. But not only of loss and mourning. It’s also a memory of bravery and self-sacrifice, and the love that lays down its life for a friend–even a friend whose name it never knew. “

(President George W. Bush, December 11, 2001)







"I may never be normal again. But this is my life now. I have to live it."

(Manu Dhingra, 27, a securities broker who suffered burns over a third of his body but was released from the hospital Oct. 2, 2001)

09 September 2010

grief and the ministry of reconciliation

A brief examination of 2 Corinthians 7:8-12 . . .

In this section of Paul's letter to Corinth we discover that there was a 'severe letter' which he had previously sent the church. When we place this together with other references to his own letters throughout 1-2 Corinthians, it seems that there were at least four occasions of correspondence from Paul to Corinth alone (some scholarship has reached five). It is clear that it took a lot for Paul to send the 'severe letter' to the church at Corinth, and he mentions how he initially regretted sending the letter (v. 9), because of the outcome he is no longer bothered by it.

This, in some circles, is the notion of tough love - caring enough to do what is necessary for another person even when it is not a popular or feel-goody action. This may come (as in Paul's case) through words that we use, or in actions that must be taken in a given situation. While Paul felt that such a course was necessary, it clearly was something that disturbed him deeply when he committed himself to it. Why? Because the work of pastoring for Paul is, on this level, the same for ministers today: surrounded in the context of defensiveness and distrust.

And . . . let's face it, nobody likes to be told where they're wrong, not even a 'gentle' rebuke is welcome news. Perhaps the biggest difference between Paul's world and our own on this point is that we sorely miss pastors and elders and leaders in the church who are willing to do the right thing, bring someone to the grief of their own choices, in the face of unpopular opinion. This leads some situations to become out-of-control congregations that do whatever they want, and others to have the one or two willing spirits to feel isolated and lonely in the work of the kingdom.

Notice here, however, what Paul is doing. He is causing his fellow believers in Corinth to suffer grief for their situation. He admits this himself, and displays the weight of this ministerial work. But he does so because the situation in Corinth needs to take this journey in order to find the path of God's righteousness again. The important piece of this to remember is that the story of Corinth doesn't stop at the point of grief. Rather, Paul's difficult language to them causes a 'godlike' grief which leads them to repentance. And this is the ministry of reconciliation to which Paul has been speaking throughout the letter.

This, however, might not always be the case . . .

Although Paul's words had an impact of grief leading to repentance, there are undoubtedly many situations where nothing follows the grief. And a more 'worldly' grief is allowed to overtake any hope of repentance. Sometimes we can see this coming a mile away. It might make us cringe a bit, but it still remains necessary that those who minister do the work of the kingdom. After all, whether repentance follows is not ultimately about our conjecture of a given situation, but the Spirit's ability to transform hearts, minds and lives.

08 September 2010

pastoring out the jesus creed, or St Francis' take on Jesus-work

Here is a line of thought that is not necessarily novel, but which needs to be restated . . . and kept in front of those who choose to minister in pastoral settings.

I have heard it said before that the role of the pastor can be summarized in "Preach the word; love the people." Although there are many who would be quick to point out how much more there is to pastoring and ministering than this, I believe it to be an overall adequate statement of the work of the pastor (at least within the context of church ministry). Why? Because it is the Jesus Creed being lived out vocationally from the role of the pastor.

The Jesus Creed is the profoundly simple notion of loving God and loving others, which for pastors can be appropriately understood in the work of preaching and loving. For a preacher to preach is to fulfill part of his calling and to live out his passion, and that becomes the first step of honoring the summons to love God with all of our heart, soul, mind and strength. But before there is an objection to the verbal work of preaching and giving sermons, I will give the appropriate nod to St. Francis, who reminded us that preaching is much more than our use of words. This works well within the boundaries of our simple definition, as many church leaders today simply do not model the Christian faith outside of their Sunday morning role. Yes, we must love God with all of our lives in order to proclaim the word.

Then there is the summons to love people, which isn't particularly unique as a general statement, but which gives the pastor special challenges that others will not typically encounter. And this is perhaps where much of the pastoral ministry in our culture has come off the tracks. Too often the call of church ministry is simply to deal with people without an adequate ministry of the word, and this leads to all sorts of problems in our congregations. The pastor is not placed by God to cater good feelings around his gathered few, but to share the truth of the Gospel in both word and deed, loving God with everything and loving others as they love themselves. It is a shame that our culture has unbalanced these proportions and demanded things from our clergy that simply are unbiblical in nature.

So, those of us who are pastoring in church ministry should keep this in mind: that we are in no way exempt from the lifestyle demands of the Jesus Creed, nor is our calling any higher or holier than anyone else's . . . for I believe that God has called and placed all people in the place where they are gifted and find opportunity to rise to the challenge of the faith. But it is a unique heritage this pastoral calling, complete with its own set of warnings and instructions. At the end of the day, all of the activities which demand our attention, eat away at our time, send us home confused, cause us to laugh and drop us to our knees in fervent prayer are found as part of the profoundly simple charge: preach the word, love the people.

(Preach always. If necessary, use words. ~ St Francis of Assisi)

03 September 2010

enthronement, judgment and psalm 2

Psalm 2 is widely considered to be one of the most influential background texts for approaching messianic enthronement. It is here that we are introduced to the concept of "Son of God" which, unfortunately, has until recently only been defined in trinitarian language. In reality, the concept was first employed and fully integrated into the realm of Jewish belief without any concept of a triune godhead, and we as readers ought to regard Son of God in its appropriate historical context before assuming that we can retrofit our theology into Jewish thought.

What is Psalm 2 telling us about messianic expectation?

First, we must regard the context of Psalm 2. It speaks with regards to the nations surrounding the people of God. Their plans are to undo the will of God and crush his people. Yet the One enthroned in heaven laughs at their efforts. He does so because he knows that his rebuke will break their feeble efforts.

Second, he speaks of his own enthronement - the one whom he has installed as king on the holy hill of Zion. This is a political theme which makes this psalm a bold declaration of what God will do before the nations, and how he will deal with those who oppose him. Thus, there is something to be said for enthronement theology to work hand in hand with the unmentioned 'kingdom of God' within Jewish Scripture. For, although nowhere in the OT is the phrase 'kingdom of God' used, it evidently was a prevalent enough concept for Jesus to use in connection with his own ministry. And people assumed (mostly with incorrect ideology) that they knew what he meant by such language.

Third, not only is this established king on Zion set there as God's ruling agent, it is also the case that this earthly figure is now designated as the Son of God. This is one of the more difficult pieces for modern Christians to understand, for it is not linked to trinitarian doctrine in our systematized sense of the term. There is a bit of 'adoptionism' in view here: that God would bring this humanly messianic figure into such a relationship that it would be as though God were his own father.

Fourth, to this messianic Son of God would be given the nations as an inheritance and the ends of the earth as a possession. This fusion of political and spiritual language is nothing short of God's kingdom, and it accomplishes his redemptive work. Thus, the message of the gospel is more than personal salvation, it is the coming of judgment and redemption into the world with the end goal establishing God's redemptive kingdom throughout all the earth.

And thus, I believe that my friend, Andrew Perriman, is correct to place this reading into the backdrop of Romans 1 (The Future of the People of God, 12-28), where now Paul is declaring that salvation from the wrath of God is being offered to those who believe. The deliverance of God is found in the messianic enthronement of his Messiah, who is the true Son of God (in the face of the Roman emperors who insisted otherwise, e.g., Augustus' claim to be the son of god). This is what is meant by gospel - the narrative which has changed the world.

02 September 2010

spraypainted lawns and church dynamics

It is raining today. This isn't particularly exciting news, unless you have been living in an area where it hasn't rained for a couple of weeks. During the summer months a no-rain-for-a-couple-of-weeks is bad when you live in the midwest, and I do. So it is bad.

But it is raining today, and we are happy.

One of the inevitable consequences of a lack of regional moisture during the summer is that everything goes from green and lush to brown and dry. You know it's getting bad when walking across your lawn crunches beneath your feet. I remember when I was in grade-school and we read about how during some of the California droughts people would actually have someone come by and spray paint their lawns so that their homes would look more attractive, even though the grass was brown and dead. We thought this was somewhat funny at the time, but I confess that every now and then throughout the various dry patches that I've lived through the idea has crossed my mind to head down to the hardware store and get some cans of bright green.

But it is ultimately a vanity thing, where we don't want others to see just how bad our lawn is. Or perhaps we want to one-up others who will be stuck with their pathetic brown yards while our home is nice and inviting . . . and impressive. Either way, the notion of painting (or now dyeing) yards might be catching on but it is still unnatural. And it is less-than-real. Sort of.

The rain today makes me think that the same browning effect can happen in our churches. It is no big secret that many of our churches (most in the Western world) are dead, or in the process of dying. They are not lush places of life and bloom, they are rather stale remnants of a once-vibrant faith community. What happens, however, is that we choose to spray paint over them so that 1) we don't see our own death, 2) others don't see our own death, and 3) we think that God will not see our own death. When this happens we are quite possibly able to achieve the first objective, we sometimes have good luck with the second, and we never come close to making the third true.

In what appears to be a sad twist to the Emperor's Clothes, those who dare mention the reality beneath the false covering are not seen as bringers of truth but instead are maligned as evil in their own right. Those who have never walked across a yard might be fooled by a clever spray painting, but the gardener knows better. And those who are unfamiliar with the true message of the gospel (both churchgoers and non-churchgoers alike) may initially be fooled by a community cover-up, but those who understand fruit know much better.