Essays
Intellectual ascent to a virgin birth
Intellectual ascent that Jesus lived
Intellectual ascent that Jesus died by means of crucifixion
Intellectual ascent that Jesus rose from the dead
Everyday Jesus
A Story…
The other I was driving along; and by “driving along” I mean I was sitting in traffic. The “expressway” was stop and go due to construction. This is pretty standard for Michigan about nine months out of the year. We have two seasons here, “winter” and “construction,” as the saying goes.
So, here I was stuck in traffic. I wasn’t frustrated, which is odd. Usually, when I’m in this situation, there is almost a sense of panic that sets in and I want to figure out how to get through the back up as quickly as possible. But, on this particular day I was just pleasantly sitting there. I had listened to a podcast that talked about how when we say, “I was stuck in traffic,” we often fail to realize that we are part of the “traffic.”
Have you ever thought about that? I hadn’t, until this particular day. I just sat there and kind of laughed about it. Here we all are together as “traffic.” Once I found myself as the “traffic” it freed me up from the frustration of fighting the “traffic.” You know why? Because I’ve learned over the years that fighting myself is a bit of a silly thing to do.
I sat there, crawling along and recognizing myself in the “traffic.” As I did, it got me thinking about how all these folks, like me, were heading somewhere. Everyone wanted to go some place and each of them had a story for why they were going there. And, even if I knew each of the stories for their travels, it would only give me a very brief snapshot into who they were as people.
Everyday Jesus…
The Gospels and Acts fascinate me. I love reading them. I am drawn to the stories of Jesus and his early followers. For a long time I thought of the Gospels as providing a full picture of Jesus. After all, these stories that have been preserved are really all we have about the man.
Sitting in that traffic it dawned on me, the Gospels represent only the smallest glimpse into who Jesus was. Tradition says that Jesus about 33 years old when he was crucified. That means he spent some 12,000 days on Earth. We know precious little about the first 30 years of his life. The Gospels focus on his “public ministry,” that lasted about three years. And even then, they spill most of their ink on his last week alive.
This snapshot of Jesus we get in the Gospels leaves so much out!
We don’t really get the complete picture of the everyday Jesus.
Even if we want to constrain ourselves to the public ministry that is mostly covered in the four Gospels, it’s a thumbnail.
We don’t get the everyday moments.
What was Jesus like when he woke up first thing in the morning? How did he respond when one of the disciples was late to get on the road? Were there foods he didn’t particularly like? What was his favorite vintage of wine? Did he get blisters?
You get the idea.
We know bits and pieces of the story. The Gospels give us a sense of who Jesus was, but we miss out on the everyday Jesus.
Our Imaginations…
So, what’s left? I’d argue what’s left is our imaginations. We can take what we know about Jesus from the stories we have and the stories of his earliest followers and imagine what he would have been like in the in between times.
Perhaps you’re asking, “Why would we want to do that?”
As I think about my life, I’m realizing that it’s not really the big moments that have to come to define who I am. It’s the small moments. It’s the moment where I realize that, “I’m the traffic.”
In all truth, our lives are not made up of grand events. They are filled with moments. Each moment builds on itself. A small decision here and little choice there. When these small moments come together they are the building blocks for who we are. If we really want to know ourselves, we need to look at the small moments that we find ourselves in.
Because of this, I’m trying to imagine what Jesus would have been like in the small moments of life. The in between times that were not considered worthy to write down. What we have in the Gospels is the big picture of who the man was. To me, Jesus is the most compelling person that has ever existed. His sacrificial love, his perseverance, his strength, his wisdom, his wit, and so much more, draw me in. I am so thankful for what we have in these stories.
Now, I want to work my way backward, so to speak, and free my imagination about the everyday Jesus. I am beginning to believe that it is here in the “everyday Jesus” that we can find the Jesus of the incarnation, or as another author put it, the Jesus of solidarity. I think this is the Jesus that really does meet us in the junk and the messiness of life. But, to find him we have to delve into a bit of the mystery and let ourselves engage our holy imaginations.
What do you think Jesus was like in those small moments, the everyday moments? Do you ever think about the “everyday Jesus”?
The post Everyday Jesus first appeared on Daniel M Rose.
Everyday Jesus
A Story...
The other I was driving along; and by "driving along" I mean I was sitting in traffic. The "expressway" was stop and go due to construction. This is pretty standard for Michigan about nine months out of the year. We have two seasons here, "winter" and "construction," as the saying goes.
So, here I was stuck in traffic. I wasn't frustrated, which is odd. Usually, when I'm in this situation, there is almost a sense of panic that sets in and I want to figure out how to get through the back up as quickly as possible. But, on this particular day I was just pleasantly sitting there. I had listened to a podcast that talked about how when we say, "I was stuck in traffic," we often fail to realize that we are part of the "traffic."
Have you ever thought about that? I hadn't, until this particular day. I just sat there and kind of laughed about it. Here we all are together as "traffic." Once I found myself as the "traffic" it freed me up from the frustration of fighting the "traffic." You know why? Because I've learned over the years that fighting myself is a bit of a silly thing to do.
I sat there, crawling along and recognizing myself in the "traffic." As I did, it got me thinking about how all these folks, like me, were heading somewhere. Everyone wanted to go some place and each of them had a story for why they were going there. And, even if I knew each of the stories for their travels, it would only give me a very brief snapshot into who they were as people.
Everyday Jesus...
The Gospels and Acts fascinate me. I love reading them. I am drawn to the stories of Jesus and his early followers. For a long time I thought of the Gospels as providing a full picture of Jesus. After all, these stories that have been preserved are really all we have about the man.
Sitting in that traffic it dawned on me, the Gospels represent only the smallest glimpse into who Jesus was. Tradition says that Jesus about 33 years old when he was crucified. That means he spent some 12,000 days on Earth. We know precious little about the first 30 years of his life. The Gospels focus on his "public ministry," that lasted about three years. And even then, they spill most of their ink on his last week alive.
This snapshot of Jesus we get in the Gospels leaves so much out!
We don't really get the complete picture of the everyday Jesus.
Even if we want to constrain ourselves to the public ministry that is mostly covered in the four Gospels, it's a thumbnail.
We don't get the everyday moments.
What was Jesus like when he woke up first thing in the morning? How did he respond when one of the disciples was late to get on the road? Were there foods he didn't particularly like? What was his favorite vintage of wine? Did he get blisters?
You get the idea.
We know bits and pieces of the story. The Gospels give us a sense of who Jesus was, but we miss out on the everyday Jesus.
Our Imaginations...
So, what's left? I'd argue what's left is our imaginations. We can take what we know about Jesus from the stories we have and the stories of his earliest followers and imagine what he would have been like in the in between times.
Perhaps you're asking, "Why would we want to do that?"
As I think about my life, I'm realizing that it's not really the big moments that have to come to define who I am. It's the small moments. It's the moment where I realize that, "I'm the traffic."
In all truth, our lives are not made up of grand events. They are filled with moments. Each moment builds on itself. A small decision here and little choice there. When these small moments come together they are the building blocks for who we are. If we really want to know ourselves, we need to look at the small moments that we find ourselves in.
Because of this, I'm trying to imagine what Jesus would have been like in the small moments of life. The in between times that were not considered worthy to write down. What we have in the Gospels is the big picture of who the man was. To me, Jesus is the most compelling person that has ever existed. His sacrificial love, his perseverance, his strength, his wisdom, his wit, and so much more, draw me in. I am so thankful for what we have in these stories.
Now, I want to work my way backward, so to speak, and free my imagination about the everyday Jesus. I am beginning to believe that it is here in the "everyday Jesus" that we can find the Jesus of the incarnation, or as another author put it, the Jesus of solidarity. I think this is the Jesus that really does meet us in the junk and the messiness of life. But, to find him we have to delve into a bit of the mystery and let ourselves engage our holy imaginations.
What do you think Jesus was like in those small moments, the everyday moments? Do you ever think about the "everyday Jesus"?
Deconstruction Much?
A Story...
I was sitting with friends at our local hang out, Ram's Horn, affectionately referred to as "The Hole (if you've been in a Ram's Horn you will know why it got that nickname)." I was reconnecting with friends from high school after spending the summer in South Carolina on a mission trip. That summer I had learned about Jesus and God in a way that was new to me. It all felt real for the first time. I was a different person than I was twelve weeks prior.
As we were sitting there my buddy, Joe burst into the restaurant and said, "Your mom needs you to go home right now. Something's wrong man, you need to go."
I jumped in my car and headed home. I don't remember much of that drive. But, I will never forget seeing the cars in the driveway. Our pastor was there. Family was there. There were tears everywhere. My Mimi had died in a car accident. She was one of the most significant people in my life. Outside of my mom, nobody knew me the way she did.
That day, everything had changed.
It didn't make sense. I had given my summer to God. Why was this happening? It wasn't fair. Why did God let this happen? How was it that God could do this?
Looking back, I know now that I descended into what has been called a dark night of the soul. I questioned everything. I was depressed. I was in anguish. I struggled to believe.
The Thing Called Deconstruction
If this had happened today I think the process that I entered into would be called "deconstruction."
Everywhere you look people are deconstructing. For some, this looks like a total rejection of faith. Some question a doctrine here or there. Others walk away from "church" and hold on to Jesus. Loads of "Christian famous" folks are carrying out their deconstruction online for the world to see. Some are leveraging deconstruction for financial gain (yes, you can hire people to coach you through a season of deconstruction).
Then there's the response to deconstruction. Some celebrate it and almost evangelize it to others. Others point to it as a simply a way to disguise apostasy. Both seem to be missing the mark.
Dark Night of the Soul
What we now call "deconstruction" is nothing new.
St. John of the Cross is largely credited with coining the term, "dark night of the soul" in his 16th century poem.
Even before him, the concept is present throughout the writings of early Christians. The dark night of the soul often refers to seasons where the one who believes encounters in fresh ways the mysteries of the divine. This could be in good times and bad times.
As we look to the story of the people of God in the Bible we see this dark night of the soul or deconstruction all over the place. In particular, I think of the books of Ecclesiastes, Lamentations and Jeremiah (honestly, almost all of the prophets show signs of this). One of my favorite parts of the Acts of the Apostles is witnessing the deconstruction of Peter and Paul's faith.
What strikes me is that counter to what some folks would have us think, deconstruction is normal for people seeking to follow in the way of Christ.
Maybe what it is...
I have been thinking a lot about this dark-night-of-the-soul/deconstruction for the last number of years. Something I am realizing is that I have gone through many seasons of deconstruction. So much so, that I'm not sure that the term is even helpful. For a while I thought maybe it was a cycle of deconstruction and reconstruction. But, I'm not sure that's really it. I think that perhaps, something else is going on.
Last week I included a quote from C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle, "Further up, and further in." It strikes me that this is really what is happening in my life and the life of so many others. Maybe, it's not de- and re- construction? Could it be that it's a vast spiral of becoming more and more of who we are meant to be? Ken Wilber in his text, A Theory of Everything, calls this the process of "transcend and include."
What if we could envision our lives progressing not along a linear line of ups and downs, but as a spiral that is driving us deeper and deeper towards reality. We learn what we need to learn where we are right here, and right now. Then that drives us ever deeper to new truths and a clearer sense of who we are and who we are to become. The mystery continues to beckon, "further up, and further in..."
I don't have a new word for this, but maybe an old word would do? Maybe the old word, "sanctification," is a better term. This process of becoming something new. When I read through the stories of God's people I see them constantly moving and growing and changing.
"Further up, and further in..."
It's not so much a deconstruction or even a dark night of the soul as much as it is being confronted with a current reality and the hope of something new before us. This something new is a version of ourselves moving towards greater flourishing.
What if...
I wonder if this sanctification is what Jesus meant when he talked about how he had come to give us life and life to the full?
What if, all the stories that are emerging of deconstruction are really stories of sanctification. Most of the time, from what I see, when people come out from the other side of this season they are more loving, more gracious, more given to mercy, and have a greater empathy.
What if, we need to follow the footsteps of the prophets and of the apostles and have all our assumptions about God challenged and broken, to truly find God in the deep mystery?
Have you experienced a dark night of the soul? Or have you experienced deconstruction? How have you changed? In what ways does your life look different as a result?
A Questioning Faith
A Story...
I remember sitting in Calculus during my senior year in high school. It was Spring and the windows were open. I could hear the birds chirping outside and the fresh, cool, Michigan Spring air was blowing gently through the room. Mr. Near, our teacher, was busy writing on the board and excitedly explaining some new equation. As he was teaching he said something that made my face flush and hands get sweaty, I could feel a sense of panic and anxiety rush over me.
"As you know by now..."
I wanted to scream, "No, Mr Near, I don't know by now! I don't understand any of this. I don't even comprehend half of the vocabulary that you're using!"
Yet, I looked around and saw my friends nodding their heads and following along with obvious understanding and clarity.
School was always easy for me. It was a source of pride that I was one of the "smart kids." My grade point average was a significant piece of my identity. That feeling of not knowing and definitely not understanding was sickening. This was particularly true because it seemed like all of my friends understood everything with complete clarity.
It's Kind of Like This...
Many of us feel like I did in Calculus when we hear people start talking about religion, faith, and spirituality. The leaders in these spaces typically speak with authority and certainty. We look around the room and everyone is nodding along. One of the most often used phrases is, "The Bible clearly says..."
Some of us want to scream, "No, it doesn't seem 'clear'! I don't understand any of this and I don't comprehend half the vocabulary you're using!"
If you've grown up in "the church" when you have these thoughts you likely feel some of the things that I felt, and probably even more intense. So often when these questions and doubts rise up in us we experience shame and guilt. We feel like we are the only ones that are wrestling with these kinds of things. As a result, we can isolate ourselves from those around us who seem to have absolute certainty about it all.
If you didn't grow up in "the church" then you too may have felt these things. Particularly, as it relates to someone who feels like they're constantly on the outside looking in. The "church people" seem to be part of some insider club and as you look on, you see the holes and the hypocrisy. You may also have a sense that questions are not welcome there because of the way that people speak with such certainty and authority.
Guess What...
I'm beginning to learn that certainty is the opposite of faith. When us religious folks speak as though we have certainty about all this stuff, it points, not to the strength of our faith, but to the weakness of it.
With great faith, comes great doubt.
There's a story about Jesus where he meets a dad whose son is possessed. The son is often thrown into seizures and when this has happened he has fallen into fires or pools of water. The dad wants to see his son healed. He's at the end of his rope (who hasn't been there?) and says, "If you can help, please help!"
Then this happens:
Jesus said, "If? There are no 'ifs' among believers. Anything can happen."
Mark 9:23-24
No sooner were the words out of his mouth than the father cried, "Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!"
Jesus does the Jesus thing and heals the boy.
I think that this dad is one of the most honest people in the Bible.
"Then I believe. Help me with my doubts!"
Jesus meets him right there. He heals the boy. He doesn't chastise him for his doubt.
In my own life I'm resonating more and more with this dad. My frequent prayer is his prayer. "I believe, help me in my doubt." The questions I struggle with are real. The doubts are consistently present. The sense of certainty that I had in my younger days is long gone. Yet, I believe more deeply than I ever have before.
There's a picture that an I artist I like drew and I think it sums up some of my journey well,
I have to tell you, joining people on the journey of seeking together is a lot of fun. There's so much beauty in it all. We get to ask questions and struggle together with the mysteries of the divine.
As we seek together, there's a lot of taking Jesus at his word. Grace and mercy and hope are becoming words that mean something more than theological short hand in a religious sales pitch. These ideas are becoming a context for which I see and experience other people and myself.
When we lean into doubt our faith grows and deepens.
I am also learning that the questions that I wrestle with are questions that other people wrestle with.
I am not alone and neither are you.
An Invitation...
During the first week of October I will be launching a new Facebook Group. The Pastor Next Door group will be one where, together, we can say, "Help me with my doubt." You need not walk this journey alone. I know that I don't want to. Over the last number of years the conversations with friends about their wrestling with mystery, the universe, and the divine have sparked my imagination and a deepening of my faith.
Together we can call one another "further up and further in!" ((C.S. Lewis' The Last Battle:
"It is as hard to explain how this sunlit land was different from the old Narnia as it would be to tell you how the fruits of that country taste. Perhaps you will get some idea of it if you think like this.You may have been in a room in which there was a window that looked out on a lovely bay of the sea or a green valley that wound away among mountains. And in the wall of that room opposite to the window there may have been a looking-glass. And as you turned away from the window you suddenly caught sight of that sea or that valley, all over again, in the looking-glass. And the sea in the mirror, or the valley in the mirror, were in one sense just the same as the real ones: yet at the same time they were somehow different–deeper, more wonderful, more like places in a story: in a story you have never heard but very much want to know. The difference between the old Narnia was like that. The new one was a deeper country: every rock and flower and blade of grass looked as if it meant more. I can’t describe it any better than that: if you ever get there you will know what I mean.
It was the Unicorn who summed up what everyone was feeling. He stamped his right forehoof on the ground and neighed, and then cried:
“I have come home at last! This is my real country! I belong here. This is the land I have been looking for all my life, though I never knew it till now. The reason why we loved the old Narnia is that it sometimes looked a little like this. Bree-hee-hee! Come further up, come further in!”))
If you'd like an invite to the group drop a comment and let me know! This group will be invite only and is private. That means what's posted there is not something that can be found or read by people outside of the Facebook Group. I set it up this way, so that we can talk honestly and openly there. I hope that it becomes a community, a neighborhood, where you can build relationships around seeking the deeper questions of life.
An Invitation to Come On Over!
It was a beautiful Spring day and I was enjoying some time on the patio. When all of a sudden, Ethan rushed in, a bit flustered and frustrated.
"Dad, as I was coming into the neighborhood I blew my tire out."
We both took a deep breath and headed over to where his car was parked and began the process of changing the tire. The tire iron we had didn't fit his lug nuts. So, we knew that we needed to call our local mechanic, Brian. We rang him up and he gave us a few different tools to try.
None of them worked.
Our neighbor, Allan, popped his head out of his car as he was pulling into the neighborhood and offered up a piece of advice, "My car has this special adapter that I have to use to get the lug nuts off my wheels, maybe yours does?"
Of course! The lug nut key! It was in his glove box and before we knew it, we had the tire off and changed.
Sometimes, we need an expert's help on figuring out a problem. Sometimes, we need a neighbor's help to solve a problem. Do you know what's ideal? When you have both.
Some Context...
Many of us grew up going to church (or being dragged there) and some of us didn't. Some of us are in the early processes of discovering faith and some of us are questioning everything we believe.
Wherever we we are in the process, too often we believe we are alone to figure it all out. But, we're not.
The questions you have are the same ones that others have wrestled with over the years. I am coming to believe that a significant aspect of the human experience is to wrestle with the mysteries of our existence, to wrestle with the questions of ultimate meaning, and to wonder about the divine. Regardless of where one ends up, these questions, doubts, beliefs, and musings are the stuff that make life deep and rich and interesting.
It gets even more interesting (and dare I say, fun) when we tease these things out in community. That's what I want to try to create. I want to invite you into a community that is asking questions and re-imagining faith with the added bonus of a neighbor who is a bit of an expert on some of these questions.
If I have a problem with my car, I call Brian. When I have a question about real estate, I call Todd. When I have a question about interpersonal stuff, I call The Beard. Often, these calls take place in a bit of a broader community too. When these guys have questions about religion, spirituality, or faith they often call me.
Welcome to the Neighborhood!
The Pastor Next Door is an invitation to community and and invitation to access. Not all of us have a pastor next door that we can ask questions of whenever we want.
If you're reading this, you do.
I hope that you will engage by commenting on posts, becoming involved in a new Facebook Group that I will be launching soon, and joining me for live in person meet ups and virtual live gatherings. You can also sign up to block out one-on-one time with me.
To make a long post really short, come on over, pull up a chair and let's ask questions and re-imagine faith together.
Use Your Head and Heart
John 7:20-24
How do I know what's right?
That's a question that plagues many of us. It seems to find us everywhere we go. As we scroll the social media feeds or we see the news or as we parent or as we talk with friends, this question is lingering in the background.
So what do we do?
When we are young what is right and what is wrong is easy. If you don't realize this you haven't spent much time with three and four year olds. There's right, there's wrong, there's nothing in between.
Somewhere around six or seven we discover "rules". They are wonderful. Because now there is a basis for what is right and wrong. The "rules" say so. Arguments about rules break out every day on playgrounds around the world.
I'm guessing around ten or eleven, older siblings figure out that they can now use the "rules" to their advantage. So, they change the "rules" mid game to ensure victory. Because now what is right and wrong is really determined by our desired outcome.
It's at this point that everything really changes.
If you don't know this, then you haven't spent much time around middle school kids.
From here on out this question of what is "right" spirals into a multitude of shades of gray.
And yet, "what is right?", follows us like a shadow.
Jonathan Haidt in his seminal text, The Righteous Mind, argues that this desire to be right or to pursue righteousness is at the heart of all that we do as people. Often what helps us determine what is "right" is deeply rooted in what community we bind ourselves to. As a result, we are able to blind ourselves from the claims of what is "right" from those outside our selected tribe. This means that most of our decisions about what is "right" are not the rational decisions that we think they are. According to Haidt we back fill emotional moral intuitions with rational arguments.
As I ponder this it strikes me that once we take notice of how this plays out in ourselves then we can try to intentionally push against it. By taking note of the intuitive or emotional, first recognizing it, then seeing it for what it is, I can try to slow it down and balance it with reason.
There was this one time when Jesus was dealing with the some religious folks. They were upset with him because he had healed a guy on the Sabbath. From sundown on Friday until sundown on Saturday the people of Israel were not supposed to do any work. Yet, over the ages they had written in some exceptions like saving an animal from falling into a hole or even circumcision. Why? Because they had determined those things were "right." Jesus healed someone on the Sabbath and folks lost their minds. This was "wrong."
So what was Jesus going to do? How would he respond?
He said, "Don't be nitpickers; use your head--and heart!-- to discern what is right, to test what is authentically right."
I think Jesus knew something about us people that we don't. I think he inherently knew that we get the head and heart backwards when it comes to the question of "what is right?". If he had said, "You're simply responding out of your bound emotional moral intuition, you need to bring your rational thought more into this," the folks would not have heard him. You see, we think that every decision we make is with our rationality. But, the reality is that it's the opposite. When he said, "and heart," I think he's really challenging them to engage their rational thought on a deeper level.
When we are wrestling with the question of "what is right?", we need head and heart. What is authentically right often goes to a place deeper than simply a black and white rule. It demands that we enter into a depth that requires us to bring more of ourselves. If we are going to answer the question, "what is right?", and be even close to what is right, then we have to remove the blinders that we have put in place due to our tribal allegiance.
If we could do this, we could move beyond a dualism of right or wrong and towards something approaching justice and righteousness. These goals are found over the horizon of right or wrong.
How might your perspective on right or wrong change if you chose to think through some of the moral issues facing you through the lens of a different tribe? Or how have you been blinded because of your tribal allegiance? What does it look like for you to bring head and heart together and to stop nitpicking?
Just Making Ourselves Look Good
John 7:14-20
Have you ever been around a "one upper"? Or maybe, you are a "one upper"?
You know what I'm talking about, don't you? That person who upon hearing a story from someone else always has another story that one ups the person before. The thing is, most of those folks are likely making it up. They want the people listening to the story to be amazed and to embrace them.
The religious world these days is full of people who are simply making stuff up. I'm sure if I took the time to dig into other religious traditions that I could find examples across the board. I'm most knowledgeable of Christianity and even more so about American Protestant Christianity, and so that's the context that I'm thinking through.
As I look at social media screes and see some of the stuff that finds its way onto television, I am struck by how little it resembles the gospel. The rage fueled preaching and tweeting are heartbreaking. Yet, many do so because it gets them traction. The crowd applauds and let me tell you, the applause is addictive. What they say and post are simply designed to make themselves look good with little connection to reality.
Jesus once said, "A person making things up tries to make himself look good. But someone trying to honor the one who sent him sticks to the facts and doesn't tamper with reality."
Read that again.
If I put that into my own words, I'd say, "When we forget who we are really are, we lose the plot."
So many of us have lost the plot. We've lost our sense of self. We have become so bound to our political tribe that we have become blind to reality. As a result, we "tamper with reality."
You likely remember the famous, "alternative facts," from a former White House staffer. It's become a bit of a punchline. Sadly though, this has become the way by which many of us live and move out in the world.
Why? Because many Christians and Christian leaders have forgotten who sent them. Instead of honoring the Divine by sticking to reality, they simply seek to make themselves look good.
It is almost as if many of us are ashamed to be a people that can choose to love neighbor and enemy.
It's as though we are ashamed of our identity as a people who have received grace, mercy, and forgiveness and as a result are called to offer the same.
It is as if we are ashamed to be following the Christ that willingly chose to sacrifice himself for the sake of bringing reconciliation to all of creation.
I need to constantly remind myself who sent me. It is here that I find my truest self. When I rest most fully in the mystery of the Divine through Christ then I find little need to make myself look good. In those moments, and to be sure they are moments,
I lose my need to be right and find a holy desire to get it right.
I lose my self righteousness and find gracious submission.
I lose my desire to make myself look and find reality.
How about you? As you reflect on the way you move out in the world, are you someone seeking to make yourself look good by manufacturing your own reality or have you found yourself and are willing to embrace true reality? Let's talk about it in the comments.
Nerd Note: It strikes me that the story of Wanda Maximoff (The Scarlett Witch) could be easily seen as a modern parable of this truth.
Humility or Fear?
John 7:1-13
The great theologian Michael Scott once said, "Would I rather be feared or loved? Um... easy, both. I want people to be afraid of how much they love me."
This always makes me chuckle because it rings so true.
What kind of leader is a good leader? The one who casts fear in their followers or the one that creates love? I think we would say the latter, yet so much of what we see in our institutions is the former. It's as if we don't really believe that it's possible to lead from a place of love or humility.
I think one way to think about humility is to think of it as the application of love from a position of power.
What do you think? How would you define humility in the context of leadership?
This morning I read this story,
Later Jesus was going about his business in Galilee. He didn't want to travel in Judea because the Jews there were looking for a chance to kill him. It was near the time of Tabernacles, a feast observed annually by the Jews.
His brothers said, "Why don't you leave here and go up to the Feast so your disciples can get a good look at the works you do? No one who intends to be publicly known does everything behind the scenes. If you're serious about what you are doing, come out in the open and show the world." His brothers were pushing him like this because they didn't believe in him either.
Jesus came back at them, "Don't crowd me. This isn't my time. It's your time—it's always your time; you have nothing to lose. The world has nothing against you, but it's up in arms against me. It's against me because I expose the evil behind its pretensions. You go ahead, go up to the Feast. Don't wait for me. I'm not ready. It's not the right time for me."
He said this and stayed on in Galilee. But later, after his family had gone up to the Feast, he also went. But he kept out of the way, careful not to draw attention to himself. The Jews were already out looking for him, asking around, "Where is that man?"
There was a lot of contentious talk about him circulating through the crowds. Some were saying, "He's a good man." But others said, "Not so. He's selling snake oil." This kind of talk went on in guarded whispers because of the intimidating Jewish leaders.
John 7:1-13, The Message
Jesus chose humility. His brothers wanted him to go do something big and public. Their assumption was that Jesus was all about becoming a public person. But, that wasn't it at all. Jesus had a specific purpose and calling. This calling demanded humility, love applied from power.
As I grow older the greatest miracle that I think Jesus ever did was being born into the human frame. The dual nature of Christ, both God and Man, is something that is beyond remarkable and we don't think deeply about it. It is a mystery of mysteries. Yet, it is where these two natures meet that we can find and know the true humility of Christ.
Everything that Jesus did was the application of love from a position of divine power.
This is in stark contrast to the religious leaders of his day. How did they move through the crowds? They did so through intimidation. Or as the NIV puts it, by fear.
Elsewhere in the ancient text we come across this line, "Perfect love casts out fear. (1 John 4:18)"
The application of love from the position of divine power drives out fear! Christ moved through the crowds in humility, the religious leaders did so through intimidation.
As I think about what it means to be a leader I think we need to intentionally follow the way of Jesus. Whether we are leading as parents, in business, in athletics, in school, in the church, or in any other social setting, our goal should be the application of love from the position of power.
Humility or fear? One is really hard. One is really easy. Which do you choose?
R-E-L-A-X
John 6:60-71
Many among his disciples heard this and said, "This is tough teaching, too tough to swallow."
Jesus sensed that his disciples were having a hard time with this and said, "Does this throw you completely? What would happen if you saw the Son of Man ascending to where he came from? The Spirit can make life. Sheer muscle and willpower don't make anything happen. Every word I've spoken to you is a Spirit-word, and so it is life-making. But some of you are resisting, refusing to have any part in this." (Jesus knew from the start that some weren't going to risk themselves with him. He knew also who would betray him.) He went on to say, "This is why I told you earlier that no one is capable of coming to me on his own. You get to me only as a gift from the Father."
After this a lot of his disciples left. They no longer wanted to be associated with him. Then Jesus gave the Twelve their chance: "Do you also want to leave?"
Peter replied, "Master, to whom would we go? You have the words of real life, eternal life. We've already committed ourselves, confident that you are the Holy One of God."
Jesus responded, "Haven't I handpicked you, the Twelve? Still, one of you is a devil!" He was referring to Judas, son of Simon Iscariot. This man—one from the Twelve!—was even then getting ready to betray him. // John 6:60-71, The Message
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Can I tell you a secret?
It’s one that I shouldn’t tell you.
But, I’m going to tell you anyway.
Most of us who are working with people walk around feeling like failures or at the very least a bit disappointed.
I don’t know a single parent, teacher, coach, counselor, therapist, or pastor who doesn’t carry with them a nagging sense that they just aren’t doing things well enough. When we get real honest with ourselves we look around and think, “I could have done so much more.”
People are never a finished work. People are always in process. There is never a point when we stop and look at someone and say, “They have arrived!”
It turns out that people are really messy. We can be so beautiful and wonderful and kind and loving and awful and mean and nasty.
The temptation is to focus on the failures. Often when we do, we think it’s our own fault. We could have done so much more. Somehow, if only I could have done a better job then that person would not have failed.
Many of us have a perfection complex.
Maybe this wasn’t that big of a secret after all. Because, some of you are probably thinking, “Duh, I experience this all the time.”
Ok, how about this secret: Jesus experienced this too.
Did you catch the end of his conversation with the Twelve? "Haven't I handpicked you, the Twelve? Still, one of you is a devil!"
Y’all, this is Jesus. The perfect one. The God-Man himself. He handpicked the Twelve and picked one that was “a devil.” Now, I know that many of you are already theologizing this and saying, “Yeah, he had to because Judas was going to play the role of traitor to get him crucified.” If you want to theologize this away, that’s up to you. I get it.
I’ll tell you what, this has been one of the most comforting verses for me in the whole Bible.
Why?
Well, on the one hand it shows me the importance of differentiating myself from those entrusted to my care. Jesus didn’t find his identity in the Twelve. He was able to separate himself from them. Because of this, he was able to fully love all of them even though he knew one was going to betray him. Think about that for a minute. There is no place in the whole of the Gospels that we see Jesus do anything but fully love Judas. I am learning that is only possible because Jesus fully found his identity in relation to the Father and not to other people.
On the other hand, it shows me that the perfect one, the God-Man, experienced someone whom he had given significant time to not becoming a “success.” This is remarkable isn’t it? If there’s anyone who should bat 1.000 for people “success” shouldn’t it be Jesus? There’s another story where he heals a whole bunch of folks all at once and only one guy comes back and thanks him.
If Jesus experienced these things, how much more will we?
This story for me has lead me to a lesson that I keep trying to learn: Relax.
People’s lives and stories are going to follow their own trajectories and story arcs. We can’t control them. There is no way that we can expect to set the stage and force people to say the lines that we want them to say. No, we are mutual travelers. As we journey and meet others on their journey we encourage them and point them toward faith, hope, and love. We trust that the sovereign and good God will bring their journeys to God in Christ.
Just relax.
Love people well and relax.
The question for us is not: How did this person turn out?
The question for us is: Did I love them well?
When we ask the second question we can begin to relax because what matters is the journey and not the destination.
Yeah But...
John 6:27-59
"Don't waste your energy striving for perishable food like that. Work for the food that sticks with you, food that nourishes your lasting life, food the Son of Man provides. He and what he does are guaranteed by God the Father to last."
To that they said, "Well, what do we do then to get in on God's works?"
Jesus said, "Throw your lot in with the One that God has sent. That kind of a commitment gets you in on God's works."
They waffled: "Why don't you give us a clue about who you are, just a hint of what's going on? When we see what's up, we'll commit ourselves. Show us what you can do. Moses fed our ancestors with bread in the desert. It says so in the Scriptures: 'He gave them bread from heaven to eat.'"
Jesus responded, "The real significance of that Scripture is not that Moses gave you bread from heaven but that my Father is right now offering you bread from heaven, the real bread. The Bread of God came down out of heaven and is giving life to the world."
They jumped at that: "Master, give us this bread, now and forever!"
Jesus said, "I am the Bread of Life. The person who aligns with me hungers no more and thirsts no more, ever. I have told you this explicitly because even though you have seen me in action, you don't really believe me. Every person the Father gives me eventually comes running to me. And once that person is with me, I hold on and don't let go. I came down from heaven not to follow my own whim but to accomplish the will of the One who sent me.
"This, in a nutshell, is that will: that everything handed over to me by the Father be completed—not a single detail missed—and at the wrap-up of time I have everything and everyone put together, upright and whole. This is what my Father wants: that anyone who sees the Son and trusts who he is and what he does and then aligns with him will enter real life, eternal life. My part is to put them on their feet alive and whole at the completion of time."
At this, because he said, "I am the Bread that came down from heaven," the Jews started arguing over him: "Isn't this the son of Joseph? Don't we know his father? Don't we know his mother? How can he now say, 'I came down out of heaven' and expect anyone to believe him?"
Jesus said, "Don't bicker among yourselves over me. You're not in charge here. The Father who sent me is in charge. He draws people to me—that's the only way you'll ever come. Only then do I do my work, putting people together, setting them on their feet, ready for the End. This is what the prophets meant when they wrote, 'And then they will all be personally taught by God.' Anyone who has spent any time at all listening to the Father, really listening and therefore learning, comes to me to be taught personally—to see it with his own eyes, hear it with his own ears, from me, since I have it firsthand from the Father. No one has seen the Father except the One who has his Being alongside the Father—and you can see me.
"I'm telling you the most solemn and sober truth now: Whoever believes in me has real life, eternal life. I am the Bread of Life. Your ancestors ate the manna bread in the desert and died. But now here is Bread that truly comes down out of heaven. Anyone eating this Bread will not die, ever. I am the Bread—living Bread!—who came down out of heaven. Anyone who eats this Bread will live—and forever! The Bread that I present to the world so that it can eat and live is myself, this flesh-and-blood self."
At this, the Jews started fighting among themselves: "How can this man serve up his flesh for a meal?"
But Jesus didn't give an inch. "Only insofar as you eat and drink flesh and blood, the flesh and blood of the Son of Man, do you have life within you. The one who brings a hearty appetite to this eating and drinking has eternal life and will be fit and ready for the Final Day. My flesh is real food and my blood is real drink. By eating my flesh and drinking my blood you enter into me and I into you. In the same way that the fully alive Father sent me here and I live because of him, so the one who makes a meal of me lives because of me. This is the Bread from heaven. Your ancestors ate bread and later died. Whoever eats this Bread will live always."
He said these things while teaching in the meeting place in Capernaum. // John 6:27-59
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When my brothers and I were growing up my mom would often leave lists of things for us to do while she was at work. Typically the chore lists included really difficult things like dusting, vacuuming, cleaning our rooms, and cleaning the toilets. I am not sure how often we accomplished the lists before she got home from work, but it was rare. When mom would, with reasonable frustration, challenge our inability to get such simple things done she would be met with, “Yeah but…” The response from her was always, “YeahBut doesn’t live here!”
This passage is one of my favorites in the story of Jesus. He doubles down on challenging the transactional nature of the people’s attitude toward their trust of him.
Jesus does this whole teaching about how he is the living bread. He is calling the people to realize that to get in on God’s works demands an intimacy and trust beyond the transaction.
The whole story is punctuated with the people missing the point.
It’s a constant, “Yeah but…”
Jesus was intentionally missing the transactional expectations of the people. He was asking them to move beyond their dualistic approach to life and faith. Intimacy, oneness, deep connection was uncomfortable and confusing.
Now, let’s be fair, this stuff that Jesus said is weird! It would have sounded just as strange to them as it does to us. If I’m real honest I would have been dropping a bunch of “yeah buts” too.
I think this highlights something for us that we need to be aware of.
Jesus will routinely, often, and consistently challenge our presumptions. When we seek connection with Christ we need to be prepared to move beyond the dualism, the black and white, the either/or, the this or that. Christ calls us further up and further in to something more than a mere transactional faith.
As we read the gospel narratives of Jesus we see this clear trajectory of people being called to something deeper, more full, more real, more mystical…
More.
That’s really it isn’t it?
It’s more.
The bread and wine are not just bread and wine. They are more.
The flesh and blood are nor just flesh and blood. They are more.
Following Jesus is more.
Who we are becomes more.
Existence becomes more.
Everywhere we look we see more.
If you’re anything like me you have something welling up in your chest at the moment, you have this overwhelming desire to say, “yeah but.”
What if faith is setting aside the “yeah but” and simply saying, “I’m willing to trust to experience this mystical and mysterious more.”
It turns out my mom was right, YeahBut doesn’t live here.
I'm Just Here for the Snacks
John 6:16-26
In the evening his disciples went down to the sea, got in the boat, and headed back across the water to Capernaum. It had grown quite dark and Jesus had not yet returned. A huge wind blew up, churning the sea. They were maybe three or four miles out when they saw Jesus walking on the sea, quite near the boat. They were scared senseless, but he reassured them, "It's me. It's all right. Don't be afraid." So they took him on board. In no time they reached land—the exact spot they were headed to.
The next day the crowd that was left behind realized that there had been only one boat, and that Jesus had not gotten into it with his disciples. They had seen them go off without him. By now boats from Tiberias had pulled up near where they had eaten the bread blessed by the Master. So when the crowd realized he was gone and wasn't coming back, they piled into the Tiberias boats and headed for Capernaum, looking for Jesus.
When they found him back across the sea, they said, "Rabbi, when did you get here?"
Jesus answered, "You've come looking for me not because you saw God in my actions but because I fed you, filled your stomachs—and for free.” — John 6:16-26, The Message
We get really caught up in the miracle of Jesus here. Why wouldn’t we? I mean it’s like a scene out of a movie. A storm rises out of the lake and then in the distance who do they see? Jesus! He’s walking on the water. I mean come on! Amazing!
The thing is, it’s all a set up.
John is setting us all up for the punchline.
It’s that moment when Jesus says, “You've come looking for me not because you saw God in my actions but because I fed you, filled your stomachs—and for free.”
Jesus called the people out for seeking to use him.
They understood Jesus in transactional terms. He knew that the were not amazed by the miracle of the loaves and fishes. They simply wanted more free food.
Jesus was nothing more than a magic food talisman.
This is true for us too. We use Jesus all the time. When we don’t get what we want we blame Jesus.
It’s not surprising though. This is the gospel that we have been preaching for a long time is it not? “God loves you and offers a wonderful plan for your life…” so the saying goes. If you make a decision for Jesus and pray this prayer then everything will be wonderful for you. This is the false gospel that has been preached and continues to be preached all over the place. It’s a gospel of services rendered. It is transactional. Give Jesus everything and your life will be wonderful.
What happens when our lives don’t turn out to be wonderful?
Then we realize the gospel we believed was false.
Jesus, wasn’t having any of this false gospel stuff. He knew the people were coming for another transaction.
The deeper reality that Jesus wanted them to see was God in him.
It’s so much easier to make a transaction.
It’s much more difficult to cultivate a life and ministry where people see God.
That is slow work. It’s hard work. It’s long work. It demands change and transformation in us. It requires authenticity.
I think it’s worth it though.
Slipping Off...
John 6:1-15
After this, Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee (some call it Tiberias). A huge crowd followed him, attracted by the miracles they had seen him do among the sick. When he got to the other side, he climbed a hill and sat down, surrounded by his disciples. It was nearly time for the Feast of Passover, kept annually by the Jews.
When Jesus looked out and saw that a large crowd had arrived, he said to Philip, "Where can we buy bread to feed these people?" He said this to stretch Philip's faith. He already knew what he was going to do.
Philip answered, "Two hundred silver pieces wouldn't be enough to buy bread for each person to get a piece."
One of the disciples—it was Andrew, brother to Simon Peter—said, "There's a little boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish. But that's a drop in the bucket for a crowd like this."
Jesus said, "Make the people sit down." There was a nice carpet of green grass in this place. They sat down, about five thousand of them. Then Jesus took the bread and, having given thanks, gave it to those who were seated. He did the same with the fish. All ate as much as they wanted.
When the people had eaten their fill, he said to his disciples, "Gather the leftovers so nothing is wasted." They went to work and filled twelve large baskets with leftovers from the five barley loaves.
The people realized that God was at work among them in what Jesus had just done. They said, "This is the Prophet for sure, God's Prophet right here in Galilee!" Jesus saw that in their enthusiasm, they were about to grab him and make him king, so he slipped off and went back up the mountain to be by himself. // John 5:1-15, The Message
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As I was thinking about this story this morning, I was wrestling with what do I write about? Does anyone need another moralistic lesson from this passage? Do we need another devotional on “stretching faith”? Perhaps. Or perhaps not. I mean, I love that this passage drives home that we do not need to live with a scarcity mindset and that we can trust that God will provide. It’s good stuff.
But, what really hit me was the phrase, “so he slipped off…”
Jesus just up and left.
Why?
Because he “saw that in their enthusiasm, they were about to grab him and make him king.”
Jesus just didn’t get it, did he?
He could have been king! He could have had it all! The crowds were eating out of his hand, literally.
I wonder, if I was in the same position as Jesus what would I have done? I likely would have accepted the role and tried to do “good.”
I am reminded of the scene in The Lord of the Rings where Frodo tries to give Gandalf the ring of power:
Frodo: Take it, Gandalf, you must take it!
Gandalf:I dare not take it, not even to keep it safe. Understand, Frodo, I would use this ring from a desire to do good, but through me it would wield a power too great and terrible to imagine.
I know my own heart so well. My greatest fear as a pastor is that I will deeply wound someone through using my position as leverage in their life. So many of us pastors have abused people in so many ways. I even see this fear in my wife as she doesn’t want to leverage her role as “pastor’s wife” in a way that makes people feel compelled to do things.
Jesus is such a beautiful example for spiritual leaders. We really ought to be people who slip away from the crowds and who seek to keep ourselves from the adulation of the crowds. Yet, in our day and age the “successful” pastors are those who do the exact opposite of Jesus. The “best” and the “brightest” are the ones who can draw the crowd and have the crowd eating out of the palm of their hands. No wonder we see spiritual abuse and trauma all over the place.
When we as leaders become so enamored with ourselves and our ministries that we miss what we are really called to be, that is people who are administering spiritual salves to the broken-hearted, then we have lost the plot.
The American church today needs more spiritual leaders who will set aside the power and the fame for the quiet presence of being involved in the lives of people.
I remember reading about how Eugene Peterson, a pastor’s pastor if there ever was one, would read The Brothers Karamazov every year to remind himself that the people in his congregation had stories that were compelling and very real.
Pastors, we need to get serious about what our calling is. It isn’t to be a celebrity. It isn’t to be “king” or “queen.” It is to be like the Good Samaritan, being present with the hurting and the wounded to bring healing. We do so with presence, we do so in speaking grace, mercy, and truth. We do so by slipping off from the crowds to do our work in the lives of real people.
As I continue to think about this and dwell on this, I realize again how much I need to repent of my own sin-sick heart. I have such a desire for the crowd. Oh, what I would give to be “on the conference circuit.” How wonderful would it be to have bestsellers and thousands listening to me preach every Sunday!
Yet, sitting with a man in his hospital room is better.
Yet, answering the questions of a teen struggling with doubt is better.
Yet, being present in the life of community is better.
Yet, being fully available and present to my wife and children is better.
My prayer is that those of us in spiritual leadership will never seek the throne but that we would "slip off..”
The Working Agenda
John 5:41-47
I'm not interested in crowd approval. And do you know why? Because I know you and your crowds. I know that love, especially God's love, is not on your working agenda. I came with the authority of my Father, and you either dismiss me or avoid me. If another came, acting self-important, you would welcome him with open arms. How do you expect to get anywhere with God when you spend all your time jockeying for position with each other, ranking your rivals and ignoring God?
"But don't think I'm going to accuse you before my Father. Moses, in whom you put so much stock, is your accuser. If you believed, really believed, what Moses said, you would believe me. He wrote of me. If you won't take seriously what he wrote, how can I expect you to take seriously what I speak?" // John 5:41-47, The Message
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As the kids say these days, “Jesus just said the quiet part out loud!”
Again, perhaps it’s the books I’ve been reading or maybe it’s just my own presumptions about the way much of the American church has failed over the last 70 years, but we really need to hear what Jesus is saying here.
Michael Frost a missioligist and church planter said it really well,
Perhaps you have listened to the Rise and Fall of Mars Hill podcast or the Gangster Capitalism: Liberty University podcast or you have just seen so many of the headlines about the many failures of the American church. For many, Michael’s question is right on the money, “Where else can we turn?”
You see, Jesus didn’t care about crowd approval. Yet, for many of us pastors that is all we care about. In many churches all that matters is getting more people in the door of the church regardless of means, short of illegal and mostly short of immoral. Why? Because for them the ends justify those means.
The crowds are what matter.
The bigger the crowd then the more God is blessing the ministry, obviously. The thing is, that isn’t really true. You can have huge crowds and not honor God in the slightest.
Jesus says, “I'm not interested in crowd approval. And do you know why? Because I know you and your crowds. I know that love, especially God's love, is not on your working agenda.”
We see this all over the place. As Frost says, “The proof is in the pudding.”
As a result of the Acts 13 Network seeking to embody the church in a different way, I am privileged to sit down with people who would likely not sit down with other pastors. These folks have been so deeply wounded and traumatized by the church. I hear their stories firsthand. They are gut wrenching.
When we care more about crowd approval then we will move away from love, it’s not on the working agenda. This is because to gain the crowd you have to focus on the things that draw the crowd. It’s all about the coolest, the most beautiful, the people who can look the part of the “blessed.”
The crowds demand everything to look perfect all the time. The crowds need to feel good and to feel powerful and to feel like they are in control. Yet, the leaders know that to make those things happen they first have to hook the crowds up to strings so that they can control everything. I know. I’ve done it.
The crowds hate messy.
The crowds hate uncertainty.
The crowds hate mystery.
The crowds hate reality.
Over the last 70 years the American church has become expert in hiding the messy, hiding the uncertainty, hiding the mystery, and hiding reality.
This came crashing home for me when two movies were released about the holocaust. In 1993 Schindler’s List was released and many Christians said that it was inappropriate to see the film because of the full frontal nudity and the brutality depicted in it. Then in 1997 Life is Beautiful was released, a film about the holocaust where a father tries to keep his son from knowing about the horrors of the situation. Christians largely endorsed this film. It’s interesting isn’t it? Both films have their place. But, the American church boycotted one and embraced the other (at least in my Evangelical circles). I think this displays a symptom of the greater problem.
I think those of us who are Elders need to rethink the working agenda.
Is most of your time spent thinking about the Sunday event, the numbers of giving units, budgets, and programs? If it is, then you are likely in a place where the crowds matter most and the working agenda is not Jesus’ working agenda. Is most of your time spent praying for the people in your congregation, meeting with people in your congregation, being present with the people in your congregation? Then, I think the working agenda is more in line with Jesus’.
If you’re thinking to yourself, “There’s no way I could spend time with that many people!” Then perhaps you have your answer. Perhaps it’s time to break up the monoliths into smaller congregations with Elders and pastors who can truly shepherd and care for the people. Perhaps it’s time to sell off the land and the property and leave the offices behind.
When is enough, enough? When will we as the leaders of the American church realize that the religious industrial complex is sick and needs radical surgery?
What is your agenda? Is it Jesus’?
I don’t have it all together. I struggle with the desire for the large crowd. I still deep down inside believe that more numbers equals success. It feels good to have large crowds. The bigger the crowd the bigger the ego bump and it is awesome. But, I’ve noticed even in my setting that when we have a bigger crew on a Sunday night it’s really hard for me to get to really engage with every person that comes. I want to be able to do that because I want to know what’s happening in their lives and to be able to pray for and love them well.
I desperately want my working agenda to reflect the working agenda of Jesus.
I desperately want the church at large in America to have the working agenda of Jesus.
Something needs to change.
We need to hear what Jesus says here to the religious leaders of his day. We need to be changed by it.
God, Jesus, and Bobby Knight?
John 5:39-40
You have your heads in your Bibles constantly because you think you'll find eternal life there. But you miss the forest for the trees. These Scriptures are all about me! And here I am, standing right before you, and you aren't willing to receive from me the life you say you want. // John 5:39-40, The Message
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Over the last few weeks I have read A Church Called Tov, Jesus and John Wayne, The Righteous Mind, and I’m almost finished with The Scandal of the Evangelical Mind. Because of this, I almost feel like just leaving those two verses standing alone, without comment.
I would love for you to go and read them again.
Seriously, we can wait.
I have been part of the Evangelical wing of the Protestant church since I started to really take my faith seriously in college. If you were to ask any of us what the Trinity is we would quickly tell you that it is the Father, Son, and the Holy Spirit.
That’s easy.
The thing is, most Evangelicals are more like Indiana University basketball fans than we are orthodox trinitarians.
What do I mean by this, you might be wondering?
Well, let me tell you!
I remember the day that Bobby Knight left IU. Amy and I were driving somewhere to raise money and we were listening to sports radio in Indiana. When the news broke the calls that came in were some of the saddest and angriest people that I had ever heard on a radio station. One man said, “In Indiana the holy trinity is God, Jesus, and Bobby Knight!” Now, if this man was at church he would surely tell you the Holy Spirit is likely part of the Trinity rather than Bobby Knight, but in that moment how he actually lived his life was on display.
For many of us who have been part of the Evangelical world for a while, the way we actually live our lives is that the Trinity is composed of God, Jesus, and the Bible. Most of us don’t think much about the Spirit, likely because when we do we get uncomfortable. The Spirit leads us down a road towards mystery and uncertainty and faith. What we prefer is certainty, data, and logic.
Jesus is talking to the religious leaders of his day. The folks who in many ways most parallel the Evangelical Christians and our leaders of this day. He tells them that they are missing everything. Why? Because they have their heads so far stuck up their Bibles that they can’t see what’s right in front of them.
Friends, many of us American Christian Evangelicals have the EXACT SAME PROBLEM. We are so committed to a book that we are missing what or actually who the book is pointing us toward.
Is the Bible important? Yes. I read it, I study it, I love it. The Bible inspires me and challenges me and convicts me and encourages me. I think the Bible is the most fascinating, beautiful, and challenging text that has ever been written. I think it’s been breathed out by God. I think it is sharper than a two-edged sword, as the saying goes. I am fully committed to the Bible!
In the midst of all that though, I have resolved over the last few years to try not to miss who the Bible is pointing us toward.
Who is the Bible pointing us toward? Christ.
What is the Bible pointing us toward? Grace, the reconciliation of all things, and the consummation of all things.
I wonder, what if we were to return the Holy Spirit back to the Trinity and allow the Spirit to draw us into mystery, uncertainty, and faith and as a result place the Bible back in its rightful place as a reflecting mirror through which we see dimly; would this help us to love and live more like Christ?
Maybe.
I think it might be worth a try.
Seriously!
John 5:28-38
"Don't act so surprised at all this. The time is coming when everyone dead and buried will hear his voice. Those who have lived the right way will walk out into a resurrection Life; those who have lived the wrong way, into a resurrection Judgment.
"I can't do a solitary thing on my own: I listen, then I decide. You can trust my decision because I'm not out to get my own way but only to carry out orders. If I were simply speaking on my own account, it would be an empty, self-serving witness. But an independent witness confirms me, the most reliable Witness of all. Furthermore, you all saw and heard John, and he gave expert and reliable testimony about me, didn't he?
"But my purpose is not to get your vote, and not to appeal to mere human testimony. I'm speaking to you this way so that you will be saved. John was a torch, blazing and bright, and you were glad enough to dance for an hour or so in his bright light. But the witness that really confirms me far exceeds John's witness. It's the work the Father gave me to complete. These very tasks, as I go about completing them, confirm that the Father, in fact, sent me. The Father who sent me, confirmed me. And you missed it. You never heard his voice, you never saw his appearance. There is nothing left in your memory of his Message because you do not take his Messenger seriously.” // John 5:28-38, The Message
//
This is another passage where there is a lot going on. It is thick with meaning. We could be here for hours working our through it. But, that’s not the purpose of this little semi-daily devotional. The purpose is for me to share one thing that stuck out to me and that I will be meditating on for the rest of the day. Then, perhaps you will too.
What hit me today was that last little bit.
“There is nothing left in your memory of his Message because you do not take his Message seriously.”
I wonder if many Christians in America get so sideways because we have not taken his Message seriously?
We get pretty worked up about particular data points in the story of Jesus. But, we seem to have missed the Message. I am so guilty of this. I see it everyday in my interactions with others. There are times that I’m sarcastic, cutting, and mean. Many times what is happening inside my mind is so ugly, that as I review the day, I realize again how much in need of grace I am.
When we boil down everything about Jesus into a set of data points then what matters most is intellectual ascent. It seems that these data points are:
I am in no way belittling these beliefs. I think they are important and crucial beliefs. I hold to them.
What I am finding in my own life as I continue to learn more about what it means to follow Jesus is that his life and his message was so much more than those four beliefs. These data points are not life changing.
When I first became aware of this, I was sitting in my friend Bob’s living room. He is a mentor and father figure to me. Amy and I were there with a handful of other couples for a small group bible study. It was a wonderful time of fellowship and going deep into one another’s lives. One night he asked the question, “What does grace mean?” Everyone sat in silence. So, Bob said, “Dan and Amy, you’re on staff with Campus Crusade, what’s the definition?” Me, being the self-righteous, self-important know-it-all exclaimed, “Unmerited favor!”
Bob asked the follow up, “What’s so amazing about that?”
Silence.
As we walk with Jesus we are confronted with one who invites the outsider in. We are confronted by one who is the embodiment of love. I understood the “grace data point,” but I didn’t understand the depths of it, the beauty of it, the reality that it was an idea that changed the world.
I had yet to take the Message seriously.
When we take the Message seriously we are transformed into people who are seeking to be like Jesus. A people who try to take with us in our bodies the death and resurrection of Christ. We try to embody grace, truth, and love. To take the Message seriously is to be transformed in how we live, not just in what we believe.
Greeters not Gatekeepers!
John 5:24-27
"It's urgent that you listen carefully to this: Anyone here who believes what I am saying right now and aligns himself with the Father, who has in fact put me in charge, has at this very moment the real, lasting life and is no longer condemned to be an outsider. This person has taken a giant step from the world of the dead to the world of the living.
"It's urgent that you get this right: The time has arrived—I mean right now!—when dead men and women will hear the voice of the Son of God and, hearing, will come alive. Just as the Father has life in himself, he has conferred on the Son life in himself. And he has given him the authority, simply because he is the Son of Man, to decide and carry out matters of Judgment. // John 5:24-27, The Message
//
Jesus doesn’t care about what we think about who is in and who is out.
Jesus doesn’t care that we don’t like “those” people, whomever those people are.
Jesus cares about bringing in those who have been condemned as outsiders and bringing them into community.
It’s interesting isn’t it that for Jesus the one who is outside the circle of friends is the one who is experiencing the “world of the dead”?
I’m struck by the statement of Jesus, where he says that it is up to him to carry out matters of judgment. If it’s up to him, do you know who it’s not up to? You or me.
That is so freeing.
Seriously.
I have spent a lot of years trying to figure out how to pass judgment on others. When I was younger, it was easy. You see, in our youth we have everything figured out and we know that we are pretty much perfect. As you age and mature you become aware of the reality that you don’t have much, if anything, figured out. You realize that your Mimi was right when she said, “But by the grace of God go I.”
So, yeah. Jesus being the arbiter of judgment is a way better system than a pastor or anyone else being an arbiter of judgment.
Now, to be clear I think what he’s talking about here is the judging of who belongs on the outside to experience the “world of the dead.” That’s not my call. That’s not your call.
As I let this passage sit in me, I think we have the twin responsibilities of being sure that we are aligned with Jesus and also to welcome outsiders inside.
Could you imagine the way the world would look different if those of us who bear the name, “Christian,” understood ourselves as greeters not gatekeepers?
My goodness! We might take another step toward being known by our love!
No Shut Outs!
John 5:19-23
So Jesus explained himself at length. "I'm telling you this straight. The Son can't independently do a thing, only what he sees the Father doing. What the Father does, the Son does. The Father loves the Son and includes him in everything he is doing.
"But you haven't seen the half of it yet, for in the same way that the Father raises the dead and creates life, so does the Son. The Son gives life to anyone he chooses. Neither he nor the Father shuts anyone out. The Father handed all authority to judge over to the Son so that the Son will be honored equally with the Father. Anyone who dishonors the Son, dishonors the Father, for it was the Father's decision to put the Son in the place of honor. // John 5:19-23, The Message
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I don’t know if you have noticed this or not, but we live in a tribal age. Everyone is so concerned about which team you’re on. I remember a number of years ago there was a segment on The Daily Show with Jon Stewart where he sent one of their correspondents to one of the political parties’ national convention. The correspondent was interviewing people and asked what made their party better than the other? The response was that their party was the “big tent” party and welcomed everyone. The correspondent then began asking people who were their political “other” were welcome. Predictably, the people he interviewed said, “no! Not THOSE people.”
It was a stark example that the age we are living in seems to be first and foremost about figuring out who is with us and who against us. Then, we can determine who our enemies are.
It’s easy to have enemies.
There’s just something about hating someone that is animating.
So, when I read this passage this morning I was struck by how it subverts the “Us vs Them” mentality of our culture. It also was subversive of Jesus’ own culture. He too lived in an age where the lines were clearly drawn.
Jew or Gentile.
Greek or Barbarian.
Slave or Free.
Man or Woman.
He lived in a world that was full of distinctions and separations. You couldn’t worship with those who were in different categories than you. Men and women were separated at Temple and in the synagogue, for example. Distinctions ruled the day even when it came to worship.
Yet, here is Jesus saying that neither he nor the Father will shut anyone out. Jesus’ work was about bringing reconciliation to the world. This reconciling work meant that the lines of distinction were being erased. The tribalism was being undercut by grace. It didn’t matter who you were to Jesus, you were welcomed at his table.
Jew or Gentile,
Greek or Barbarian,
Slave or Free,
Man or Woman,
…all were welcome at his table and into the presence of the Father.
The dividing walls were coming down and Jesus was welcoming everyone.
As I sit at my desk today writing and I think about our world. I am struck by the sad reality that Christians, those who intentionally and willingly bear the name of Christ, are among the most divisive. We seek to separate and divide, Us vs Them, in so many ways. Whether it be politically, racially, theologically, or even over the type of seating in a congregation’s building. It is as if we are looking for ways to separate and categorize people into nice neat little groups.
There is something satisfying about knowing our enemies.
The problem is, that as followers of Christ there are to be no enemies. When the Christian looks out into the world we are to see a world filled with bearers of the divine image who are welcomed and accepted by Jesus.
If we can approach the world this way, we become a people who are no longer dividing and separating into Us vs Them but a people who make bigger tables and throw bigger parties. We can become a people who practice a radical minimum standard of welcome and hospitality.
Perhaps we might even become a people known by our love.
Even on the Sabbath!
John 5:1-18
Soon another Feast came around and Jesus was back in Jerusalem. Near the Sheep Gate in Jerusalem there was a pool, in Hebrew called Bethesda, with five alcoves. Hundreds of sick people—blind, crippled, paralyzed—were in these alcoves. One man had been an invalid there for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him stretched out by the pool and knew how long he had been there, he said, "Do you want to get well?"
The sick man said, "Sir, when the water is stirred, I don't have anybody to put me in the pool. By the time I get there, somebody else is already in."
Jesus said, "Get up, take your bedroll, start walking." The man was healed on the spot. He picked up his bedroll and walked off.
That day happened to be the Sabbath. The Jews stopped the healed man and said, "It's the Sabbath. You can't carry your bedroll around. It's against the rules."
But he told them, "The man who made me well told me to. He said, 'Take your bedroll and start walking.'"
They asked, "Who gave you the order to take it up and start walking?" But the healed man didn't know, for Jesus had slipped away into the crowd.
A little later Jesus found him in the Temple and said, "You look wonderful! You're well! Don't return to a sinning life or something worse might happen."
The man went back and told the Jews that it was Jesus who had made him well. That is why the Jews were out to get Jesus—because he did this kind of thing on the Sabbath.
But Jesus defended himself. "My Father is working straight through, even on the Sabbath. So am I."
That really set them off. The Jews were now not only out to expose him; they were out to kill him. Not only was he breaking the Sabbath, but he was calling God his own Father, putting himself on a level with God. // John 5:1-18, The Message
//
“My Father is working straight through, even on the Sabbath. So am I.”
Did you catch that?
It jumped off the page to me.
Maybe it’s because I just put the wraps on reading A Church Called Tov by Scot McKnight and Laura Barrington where I was challenged to think about what it means for the church to be “tov” or “good.”
I wonder if we think about this enough. For Jesus, doing good was not “work.” Jesus does “good” throughout his ministry on the Sabbath. If doing good was a breaking of the commandment then he would be sinning. This would of course sideline his whole mission, you know? But doing good on the Sabbath was not breaking the commandment it was merely breaking a social convention.
When we do good we are not working if the doing good is coming from a place of who we are.
Something that is talked often in the context of theology classes is the reality that on the seventh day God rested. That when God declared all things good, God stopped working. Yet, here Jesus is saying that God is working and still working right on through the Sabbath! How could this be? Unless of course doing good is not work.
Perhaps when we are living out of our identity it is something different. I think when we are working out of our identity we are simply being. Jesus in healing the man by the pool was not doing work, he was simply being who he is.
Jesus is good.
Therefore, doing good is not work.
Which of course drives me to a place of introspection. Am I good? Is good a part of my identity? Is goodness something that is true of me? I desperately want it to be, but I’m not entirely sure that it is. Except that by placing my trust in Christ I have been united with Christ in life. This means that who I am is hidden with Christ. Whether or I not I perceive my goodness it is there.
I think inherently we know this. I don’t know anyone that after doing good or living out their goodness thinks, “Man, that was terrible, I hate doing good.”
We might be physically tired or even emotionally tired after doing good but there is a sense of joy, accomplishment, or
satisfaction from doing good. Goodness is part of who we are. Not only from union with Christ but also because we are image bearers of the Divine. I think this is why we see goodness cut across the human experience.
Let us lean into our goodness and in so doing we will do good, even when it challenges cultural norms. Let us do good out of our goodness even when it upsets the pious. Let us do good out of our goodness because it is the very thing that we desire to do.
A Bridge Too Far?
John 4:43–54
After the two days he left for Galilee. Now, Jesus knew well from experience that a prophet is not respected in the place where he grew up. So when he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, but only because they were impressed with what he had done in Jerusalem during the Passover Feast, not that they really had a clue about who he was or what he was up to.
Now he was back in Cana of Galilee, the place where he made the water into wine. Meanwhile in Capernaum, there was a certain official from the king’s court whose son was sick. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and asked that he come down and heal his son, who was on the brink of death. Jesus put him off: “Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe.”
But the court official wouldn’t be put off. “Come down! It’s life or death for my son.”
Jesus simply replied, “Go home. Your son lives.”
The man believed the bare word Jesus spoke and headed home. On his way back, his servants intercepted him and announced, “Your son lives!”
He asked them what time he began to get better. They said, “The fever broke yesterday afternoon at one o’clock.” The father knew that that was the very moment Jesus had said, “Your son lives.”
That clinched it. Not only he but his entire household believed. This was now the second sign Jesus gave after having come from Judea into Galilee. — John 4:43–54, The Message
//
Believing is not always the easiest thing in the world. So often we make it out to be something that people can “just do.” But, when we slow down a minute we have to realize that there is a real cost and real risk involved in the believing.
When I was younger I would often think to myself, “How is it that people don’t believe?” I mean it seemed so self-evident to me. God, Jesus, all of it just seemed so logical and straightforward. It seemed to be the thing that made the world make sense. Yet, so many struggled with the idea of it.
One conversation that has stuck with me for nearly twenty years was with a college student at Illinois State University. This man needed no convincing of his sin-sickness. He knew he was hurting and in need of healing. He was fully aware of broken relationships that needed restoration. Forgiveness was something that he desperately wanted. Yet, the idea of receiving grace that he did not earn was a bridge too far. Here, he stumbled. It made no sense to him. He desperately wanted to believe it but it just didn’t make any sense to him. There was no anger or dislike of Christians. He was unchurched so there wasn’t any kind of church baggage. It was simply the idea that a God existed who would love him without condition seemed so illogical and unfathomable that he could not give intellectual ascent to the concept, let alone belief.
As I read this story of the official in the King’s court it struck me how much it would cost this man to believe Jesus. His belief told him that he needed Jesus to come and be in person with his son to heal him. But, Jesus simply said, “Go, your son lives.” How does that work? What would you do? If you, in your heart of hearts believed that Jesus needed to be in person with your dying son to heal him, would you believe?
I don’t know if I would.
I would want to.
But the cost would be so great if I was wrong.
I think about that young man from Illinois State often. What would the cost of his belief in grace be? I think perhaps the cost may have been his sense of autonomy. We want to believe that we don’t need anyone or anything to help us. But, the truth of the matter is that we desperately need one another. To believe in grace demands that we set aside our personal autonomy and acquiesce to the love of the Divine. For rugged individualists, that’s tough stuff.
It’s an interesting thought isn’t it? The thought that something freely given actually comes to us for great cost. It’s not that we earn grace but the receipt of grace demands that we trust.
I am learning that trust is often a bridge too far.
Trust is a cost that many of us are unwilling to pay.
I read this story and am left in awe by the belief of the official. His radical trust that Christ, with a “bare word”, could save his son leaves me slack jawed.
Belief, faith, trust, isn’t easy. It costs.
Sometimes when we do trust we get to experience the joy of life, the joy of healing, the joy of resurrection.
As I ponder this story, I think I’m realizing again the risk of belief, the cost of trust, is worth the joy that is set before me.
A Bridge Too Far?
John 4:43-54
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//
After the two days he left for Galilee. Now, Jesus knew well from experience that a prophet is not respected in the place where he grew up. So when he arrived in Galilee, the Galileans welcomed him, but only because they were impressed with what he had done in Jerusalem during the Passover Feast, not that they really had a clue about who he was or what he was up to.
Now he was back in Cana of Galilee, the place where he made the water into wine. Meanwhile in Capernaum, there was a certain official from the king's court whose son was sick. When he heard that Jesus had come from Judea to Galilee, he went and asked that he come down and heal his son, who was on the brink of death. Jesus put him off: "Unless you people are dazzled by a miracle, you refuse to believe."
But the court official wouldn't be put off. "Come down! It's life or death for my son."
Jesus simply replied, "Go home. Your son lives."
The man believed the bare word Jesus spoke and headed home. On his way back, his servants intercepted him and announced, "Your son lives!"
He asked them what time he began to get better. They said, "The fever broke yesterday afternoon at one o'clock." The father knew that that was the very moment Jesus had said, "Your son lives."
That clinched it. Not only he but his entire household believed. This was now the second sign Jesus gave after having come from Judea into Galilee. — John 4:43-54, The Message
//
Believing is not always the easiest thing in the world. So often we make it out to be something that people can “just do.” But, when we slow down a minute we have to realize that there is a real cost and real risk involved in the believing.
When I was younger I would often think to myself, “How is it that people don’t believe?” I mean it seemed so self-evident to me. God, Jesus, all of it just seemed so logical and straightforward. It seemed to be the thing that made the world make sense. Yet, so many struggled with the idea of it.
One conversation that has stuck with me for nearly twenty years was with a college student at Illinois State University. This man needed no convincing of his sin-sickness. He knew he was hurting and in need of healing. He was fully aware of broken relationships that needed restoration. Forgiveness was something that he desperately wanted. Yet, the idea of receiving grace that he did not earn was a bridge too far. Here, he stumbled. It made no sense to him. He desperately wanted to believe it but it just didn’t make any sense to him. There was no anger or dislike of Christians. He was unchurched so there wasn’t any kind of church baggage. It was simply the idea that a God existed who would love him without condition seemed so illogical and unfathomable that he could not give intellectual ascent to the concept, let alone belief.
As I read this story of the official in the King’s court it struck me how much it would cost this man to believe Jesus. His belief told him that he needed Jesus to come and be in person with his son to heal him. But, Jesus simply said, “Go, your son lives.” How does that work? What would you do? If you, in your heart of hearts believed that Jesus needed to be in person with your dying son to heal him, would you believe?
I don’t know if I would.
I would want to.
But the cost would be so great if I was wrong.
I think about that young man from Illinois State often. What would the cost of his belief in grace be? I think perhaps the cost may have been his sense of autonomy. We want to believe that we don’t need anyone or anything to help us. But, the truth of the matter is that we desperately need one another. To believe in grace demands that we set aside our personal autonomy and acquiesce to the love of the Divine. For rugged individualists, that’s tough stuff.
It’s an interesting thought isn’t it? The thought that something freely given actually comes to us for great cost. It’s not that we earn grace but the receipt of grace demands that we trust.
I am learning that trust is often a bridge too far.
Trust is a cost that many of us are unwilling to pay.
I read this story and am left in awe by the belief of the official. His radical trust that Christ, with a “bare word”, could save his son leaves me slack jawed.
Belief, faith, trust, isn’t easy. It costs.
Sometimes when we do trust we get to experience the joy of life, the joy of healing, the joy of resurrection.
As I ponder this story, I think I’m realizing again the risk of belief, the cost of trust, is worth the joy that is set before me.
Firsthand Jive
John 4:39-42
Many of the Samaritans from that village committed themselves to him because of the woman's witness: "He knew all about the things I did. He knows me inside and out!" They asked him to stay on, so Jesus stayed two days. A lot more people entrusted their lives to him when they heard what he had to say. They said to the woman, "We're no longer taking this on your say-so. We've heard it for ourselves and know it for sure. He's the Savior of the world!" — John 4:39-42, The Message
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I remember the first time that I heard the phrase, “Secondhand jive.” We were at church and our pastor used it. He was talking about how in the 70s when you heard something from someone else it was, “sechondhad jive.” He was arguing that we needed to have a “firsthand jive” faith. That is, a faith where we ourselves engage with the divine and not just hear about it from someone else.
As I read this passage this morning this was the phrase that popped into my head.
But I also noticed that before the people of this Samaritan village experienced “firsthand jive” they received the word of someone else. What is fascinating to me is that the person that they heard it from is not someone who would have been considered to be all that trustworthy.
What was it about her?
The only thing I can think of is that something about her changed.
It is the assumption of most that she was a person who was living in isolation from her community due to her life. We learn from her conversation with Jesus that she had multiple husbands and was living with a man not her husband at that time. She went to the well at the hottest part of the day to avoid others or because she was being shunned by them. Either way, after her interaction with Jesus she re-entered their community and pointed people to him.
Isn’t this what Jesus was always doing? Because of the grace and mercy and love that he offered, people were being reconciled to God, themselves, and also their communities. We see this in the healings that he performs as well. People with physical infirmities are able to become full participants in the community again.
When the Samaritan woman has her “firsthand jive” with Jesus she is changed. By her entering back into community others believe and go meet Jesus too. Then they have their own experience of “firsthand jive.”
Who was it that you knew that initially pointed you toward Jesus? For me, I think it was my Mimi and mom. Seeing their lived faith and how they loved people kept me in touch with my faith while it would have been easy to walk away. I am beyond grateful for them. Because of them, I now believe because of my own experience with the divine. So, who was it for you?
Standing With Giants
John 4:31-38
In the meantime, the disciples pressed him, "Rabbi, eat. Aren't you going to eat?"
He told them, "I have food to eat you know nothing about."
The disciples were puzzled. "Who could have brought him food?"
Jesus said, "The food that keeps me going is that I do the will of the One who sent me, finishing the work he started. As you look around right now, wouldn't you say that in about four months it will be time to harvest? Well, I'm telling you to open your eyes and take a good look at what's right in front of you. These Samaritan fields are ripe. It's harvest time!
"The Harvester isn't waiting. He's taking his pay, gathering in this grain that's ripe for eternal life. Now the Sower is arm in arm with the Harvester, triumphant. That's the truth of the saying, 'This one sows, that one harvests.' I sent you to harvest a field you never worked. Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others." — John 4:31-38, The Message
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As I sit in this passage today I am struck by this image from the last sentence, “Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others.”
Too often we think that we are “the first” or that we are bringing a “fresh” expression of the gospel to a particular place and people. But, the reality is that we are part of something much bigger than ourselves.
A couple years into my time here in Ypsilanti I was sitting with a group of pastors from the city. Mostly men and women who had given most of their adult lives to this place. They had been faithfully serving the people and the city for decades. These pastors are good and faithful men and women. They love our city deeply and passionately. They have been through the hard years and the painful times. There is nothing that they have not seen. They’ve been through the Civil Rights marches and the Billy Graham Crusades.
In that meeting my heart broke.
I was absolutely gutted.
It was as if the Spirit grabbed me by my ear and seemingly said, “Little boy, look, listen, and hear. You are arrogant. Your arrogance is hurting my people here. Learn to love, son.”
I was sitting next to my friends Pastor Vicki, Pastor Roger, and Pastor Tony. Pastor Vicki was walking the line of anger, frustration, and sadness over the attitude of the many “church planters” that were coming into the area. They were speaking as though God was absent and that God’s people were absent and that the work of the Spirit of God was absent from this place. I could see and hear, her frustration and heartbreak. Pastor Tony and Pastor Roger were resonating with her.
I was gutted.
After the meeting I sought forgiveness, she was gracious and kind. Then she said, with that twinkle in her eye and the rye smile that accompanied her kind heart, “I’m so glad you were hearing me.”
It was in that moment that I realized in our work here in Ypsilanti we are standing on the shoulders of giants. Men and women who most of the world will never know. But, these men and women have done the hard work. They have prayed, served, loved, and been present in a place that many have overlooked and ignored except in its proximity to Ann Arbor.
Truly the Spirit that day was showing me that, “Without lifting a finger, you have walked in on a field worked long and hard by others.”
Today as I sit here, I am overwhelmed with gratitude for their faithful love of this city and this people.
How have you walked into a field, without lifting a finger, that was ripe for harvest because it has been worked long and hard by others?
Go and Do
John 4:31-34
In the meantime, the disciples pressed him, "Rabbi, eat. Aren't you going to eat?"
He told them, "I have food to eat you know nothing about."
The disciples were puzzled. "Who could have brought him food?"
Jesus said, "The food that keeps me going is that I do the will of the One who sent me, finishing the work he started.” — John 4:31-34, The Message
//
Sometimes I read and stop and think and can’t stop thinking about what it was that I just read. Today is one of those days. I was reading and just stopped with that last sentence. I couldn’t keep going. It was just done-zo after that.
So often in our American Christianity we think of spiritual food simply as the Scriptures. Please hear me, I am not downplaying the importance of the Scriptures in our spiritual lives. Nor am I downplaying the role of prayer in our spiritual lives. What I want to say is that maybe we have over emphasized the Bible to the point that we have missed something crucial to our spiritual development.
For Jesus, the food that keeps him going is doing “the will of the One” who sent him. It was living, acting, doing. Spiritual food was not sitting and studying the Bible. Though, Jesus clearly knew his Bible. It was not sitting and only praying. Though, Jesus actively sought time to get away and pray.
His spiritual vitality came from living out his faith. Jesus was fully engaged in the world living out what he taught.
Jesus was doing things.
For Jesus, spiritual vitality did not come about from hiding out in a holy huddle. No, it came from living his faith by loving people and pointing them to the glorious One that sent him.
The work that “One who sent” him had started was the work of calling people into relationship with the divine, renewing the covenant promises, bringing the history of God’s people to its dramatic conclusion where exile was ending. In a word, reconciliation.
Reconciliation could only happen if Jesus acted in the world and the did the work before him.
The same is true for us. We will find a greater vitality of faith as we live it out in the world. Our faith will become more real to us as we try to love people. This demands that we leave our study rooms and prayer closets and find our way to the neighborhoods, cafes, pubs, bowling alleys, schools, restaurants, golf courses, and anywhere else there are people who need to see love, grace, and mercy in action.
Are you feeling a bit dry in your spiritual life? Go serve. Do you need help finding a place to serve? I can help with that. There are many needs all around us if we just lift our heads and start looking around.
That Kind of Woman
John 4:25-30
The woman said, "I don't know about that. I do know that the Messiah is coming. When he arrives, we'll get the whole story."
"I am he," said Jesus. "You don't have to wait any longer or look any further."
Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked. They couldn't believe he was talking with that kind of a woman. No one said what they were all thinking, but their faces showed it.
The woman took the hint and left. In her confusion she left her water pot. Back in the village she told the people, "Come see a man who knew all about the things I did, who knows me inside and out. Do you think this could be the Messiah?" And they went out to see for themselves. — John 4:25-30, The Message
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Sure I could wax eloquent about Jesus’ response to the woman’s statement about the Messiah. I mean it is remarkable isn’t it? A Samaritan woman waiting expectantly for the Messiah, a whole Samaritan town, for that matter, waiting for the Messiah. All of this would be mind bending stuff in the first century. John, in telling this story this way, was blowing categories left and right for his Jewish readers.
Yet, this is not the part that really grabs my attention.
No, what really grabs my attention is this, “Just then his disciples came back. They were shocked. They couldn't believe he was talking with that kind of a woman. No one said what they were all thinking, but their faces showed it.”
This woman came to the well at midday, in the heat of the day, and this meant that she was not interested in engaging with the other women of her village. She was living a life of shame. Her own shame and likely being shamed by those in her village. This woman was not someone that would have been considered to have “high moral virtue.” No, she definitely fit into the, “One of those people,” kind of categories.
The disciples showed up and were shocked. Probably first that Jesus was talking to a Samaritan, second that he was talking to Samaritan woman, and third that he was talking to a Samaritan woman who was clearly immoral. Peterson’s translation gets it right on the money, “that kind of woman.”
Jesus was always doing that.
He was always talking to that “kind of woman.”
There always seemed to be the person that he shouldn’t talk to hanging around. But did Jesus care? Nope! He went right ahead and spent time with them.
Jesus wasn’t worried about what other people thought of him. He had an audience of one, so to speak, and this freed him to love well. When you no longer care about trying to please others you are able to love people who some have determined to be unlovable.
There was no tribal affiliation for Jesus. He pursued the way of love, that was his dogma. This way of love lead him to talk to people like the Samaritan woman and leave even his disciples in utter shock.
Who are you afraid to talk to? Who are “those people” that your tribe wouldn’t approve of? Why are you worried about what they think?
When we follow the way of Jesus we no longer have to worry about what others think. Our only concern is to love like him and live like him. When we do, we will love well and live life to the full!
All That Matters...
John 4:15-24
The woman said, "Sir, give me this water so I won't ever get thirsty, won't ever have to come back to this well again!"
He said, "Go call your husband and then come back."
"I have no husband," she said.
"That's nicely put: 'I have no husband.' You've had five husbands, and the man you're living with now isn't even your husband. You spoke the truth there, sure enough."
"Oh, so you're a prophet! Well, tell me this: Our ancestors worshiped God at this mountain, but you Jews insist that Jerusalem is the only place for worship, right?"
"Believe me, woman, the time is coming when you Samaritans will worship the Father neither here at this mountain nor there in Jerusalem. You worship guessing in the dark; we Jews worship in the clear light of day. God's way of salvation is made available through the Jews. But the time is coming—it has, in fact, come—when what you're called will not matter and where you go to worship will not matter.
"It's who you are and the way you live that count before God. Your worship must engage your spirit in the pursuit of truth. That's the kind of people the Father is out looking for: those who are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship. God is sheer being itself—Spirit. Those who worship him must do it out of their very being, their spirits, their true selves, in adoration." // John 4:15-24, The Message
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When I slowed down and read this story again, with fresh eyes, I was left a bit scandalized. Were you? What Jesus says here challenges me so deeply and leaves me experiencing a deeper sense of grace and mercy.
As a pastor I live and work within the religious industrial complex. Within that complex there are many tribes. Within those tribes there are tribes. So, for instance, I am in the Western Protestant tribe. Within that tribe I am Reformed. Within that tribe I am Presbyterian. Within that tribe I am part of the Evangelical Presbyterians. Within that tribe I am Missional. Within that tribe I am house church movements.
It’s like nesting dolls of tribal identity and those are just the broad tribal alignments that have to do with what kind of congregation I lead.
We love our tribes. We love knowing who is with us and who is against us. There is something marvelously delicious about knowing who our enemies are. Don’t you agree?
Yet, according to Jesus none of it matters.
Not one bit of it.
Not a single iota of it.
Zilch.
Nada.
Nothing.
Nope, not even that.
Wrong, that doesn’t matter either.
Sorry, it doesn’t.
We have so deeply missed the plot that we might as well not even be in the same book as Jesus. Jesus is out here challenging everything that we think we know about God and worship and all that and we just keep on fighting and arguing the same silly little battles that people have for years.
In this story it’s Jew and Samaritan. In our story it might be Pentecostal, Dispensational, and Reformed. Maybe it’s Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant. Could be “Woke” and “Non-woke.” Maybe it’s Apple and Android.
Whatever it is, it’s the same tired story and it doesn’t matter anymore.
All that matters Jesus says is that people, “are simply and honestly themselves before him in their worship.”
That’s it.
That’s all that matters.
Nothing else.
Nope, not that.
Nor that.
Not even that.
All that matters is simply and honestly being yourself before the divine in worship. That is all that matters, at least according to Jesus.
Perhaps he’s wrong.
Could be, but it seems unlikely.
A motto in our home is that God is sovereign and good. If I believe that, then I can rest in this radically subversive thing that Jesus says here.
All that matters is simply and honestly being yourself before the divine in worship.
Nothing else matters.