How Low Can You Go?

I've been reading Mark in my quiet times lately, and appropriately enough for the week leading up to Easter, I've been in chapter 15. Mark tends to be short and to the point, and even in his account of this last week of Jesus' life, he's very economical with his words. What caught my attention this week was his decription of the two thieves on the crosses next to Jesus'. Just two verses (27, 31):

   And with him they crucified two robbers, one on his right and one on his left.

   Even those who were crucified with him were reviling him.

That's it. No mention of what they said. Nothing about how one of them pleaded with Jesus and how He promised him entrance into His Kingdom that very day. Just: they flanked Him in crucifixion and mocked Him in the process. That promise Jesus gave the one is pretty important, but Mark skips right over it! (Mark is also the one who leaves the Gospel narrative hanging in suspense, so apparently he didn't have the same need of closure that I do.)

I'm intrigued by this minimalist treatment of the thieves. Mark could have written more, but didn't. So I assume he wants us to focus on what little he did write: two robbers, while being crucified, reviled Jesus. Two dying robbers mocking Jesus along with the rest.

In this paragraph, Mark is careful to note that the chief priests and the experts in the Law mocked Jesus. Those who passed by mocked Him. In the previous paragraph, the soldiers mocked Him. And these two robbers being crucified.

In other words, Jesus was mocked, not merely rejected, by the religious authorities, by the military authorities, and by the general population. And these two robbers being crucified. He was mocked by not only the establishment, but also by the lowest of the low!

You can't get much lower than a convicted felon presently suffering a languishing death penalty, publicly displayed for full humiliation. They were rejects, mere rubbish to be disposed of. Those who society rejected rejected Jesus. How low can you go?!?

Easter is about the resurrection of Jesus, who died for our sin in a way that required Him to be utterly rejected, even by the lowest of the low.

I'm stunned by how complete His rejection had to be, so that His resurrection would be that much more victorious. I suspect Mark left out part of the story to focus us on that very point.

Facepalm Sunday?

This coming Sunday is "Palm Sunday" - the day to commemorate Jesus' final entrance into Jerusalem less than a week before the crucifixion. This historical event is prominent enough to be mentioned in all four Gospels (Matthew 21:1-11; Mark 11:1-11; Luke 19:28-44; John 12:12-19). Jesus mounted a donkey and made His way into the city of Jerusalem, as the crowds laid down clothing and palm branches before His path and cried out "Hosanna!" (which roughly means, "save us now!"). Within the week, He was dead. Within days after that, He is risen. Indeed.

We who gather together as "Grace Fellowship" come from different backgrounds - Catholic, charismatic, agnostic, atheist, high church, low church, house church - and so we bring with us a variety of Palm Sunday traditions, ranging from nothing at all to very elaborate. For some of us, Palm Sunday is an important part of "Passion Week" - the week commemorating all the events of the last week of Jesus' life, starting with Palm Sunday, then the Last Supper, the Garden of Gethsemane, the trials, the crucifixion, and of course the resurrection (celebrated by "Easter"). For those who have a tradition of celebrating Lent, Palm Sunday is the last day of the 40-day Lenten season.

There is no evidence that the early church made any intentional celebration of Palm Sunday until the 3rd Century, or more likely not until the late 4th Century. It started as a celebration in the church in Jerusalem, with believers walking from site to site of the events of that last week, reading the Gospels aloud at each site (which would be a cool thing to do!!!). By the 5th Century, there's clear evidence of celebrating Palm Sunday as far away as Constantinople. There were significant changes and additions to the tradition each century after that through at least the 8th Century.

With the history of the Church, it is no surprise that the celebration of Palm Sunday has its primary roots in the pre-Catholic, Catholic, and Orthodox churches.

Some have noted that the crowds that day may have been celebrating a mistake. Here's a crowd of people who are lauding Jesus as the one who comes in the name of the Lord, the great king. Which, of course, He is. But it's also clear that the crowd didn't realize how right they were. They were expecting a king like David, with a political and military kingdom that would become autonomous from the Roman Empire. Even though they lauded Jesus as king, they didn't comprehend that He was entering Jerusalem as the King of all Kings whose kingdom is "not of this world" (John 18:36). They weren't very accurate at all! Or better, they were more accurate than they realized.

Are we celebrating a mistake? Should we call this "Facepalm Sunday"?

Furthermore, some note that just days later, the crowd was crying out, "Crucify Him! Crucify Him!" What a reversal! Should we celebrate that? However, there's nothing in the text that says that people in the first crowd were also in the second crowd, so this is mere speculation at best. We should just note the mere possibility, and then draw no real conclusions from this.

What value, then, is celebrating Palm Sunday? We have inherited some traditions from the historic Catholic church, but we're not Catholics. The early church didn't make a deal out of this for centuries. The crowd was not really celebrating what we celebrate when we remember the entrance of the true King into Jerusalem. Palm Sunday is usually something we make a bigger deal of for the kids than for the adults, as if we eventually "grow out of it." What, then, shall we make of Palm Sunday?

Whatever we want, actually. It's a great singular event to begin commemorating the most crucial week in human history. It's a very picturesque event to engage children (and adults) into the story. Regardless of what the early church didn't do, of what the Catholic church did do, or even of what the people who were there did incorrectly, we can grab this moment to remind our kids and one another that Jesus in fact is the King who took on human flesh, which He could then use to put on the back of a donkey, eat a final meal, receive lashes, expire from crucifixion, and then physically raise from the tomb.

Traditions are most valuable for passing on to each successive generation the meanings of our faith, not just the traditions themselves. You've got a great, built-in excuse to share with others how your King voluntarily rode right into His own death on our behalf. It's one of the best ways we keep alive the purpose of our history. It helps connect us to two centuries of the followers of Jesus.

I encourage to make more of this than just a "church thing." We want to teach all our kids about this week, but the most effective way for them to keep our stories front and center is through you. Make a week of it.

God of Comfort

A smooth sea never made a skillful sailor.

-- English proverb

I came across this proverb earlier this week, and loved its potent simplicity. We instantly know it to be true, and it's far more elegant than a simple statement of fact, "Sailors become skilled through rough seas."

Everything in this statement is premised on the goal - a skillful sailor. That's what we want most out of sailor! If we're in the boat, we can excuse just about everything else if the sailor is skillful. Given the choice between a really polite unskilled sailor and a salty, brash, skilled sailor, we'd take the skilled one every time, especially in rough seas. Unless, of course, we're not in the boat. Then we just want him to be nice.

If this proverb is generally true, then why do we pray for God to give us "smooth seas" more than for Him to make us into "skillful sailors"?

Like the proverb, everything about prayer is premised on the goal. According to our prayers, it seems our goal is all too often that we would have smooth sailing. "Lord, just make the interview go smoothly. Just help the move be without any troubles. Just let my conversation with the principal to go OK. Just lower those waves a bit ... no ... a lot."

But that's not Jesus' goal for us. His goal for you is that you increasingly resemble Him in every way possible, much like a skillful sailor, experienced in navigating life as a follower, even when the swells are high. If that's the goal, then everything about prayer should be premised on that, praying for God to make us more Christlike rather than asking Him to take away the rough seas that produce skillful sailors.

A Christlike follower is what Jesus wants most out of a follower. If we're "in the boat," committed to the life of following Christ, then it's what we should want most, too - for ourselves and others. Unless, of course, we're not in the boat, unconcerned about the purpose of the sea. Then smooth seas are about the only thing left to pray for.

Guide your prayers toward the goal Jesus has ... as you pray for yourself, for your family and those closest to you, for your fellow believer, and for those who do not know Jesus. Pray for God to develop skillful sailors, and also pray for the rough seas necessary to make them so. When the seas are already rough, pray first for the rough seas to hone the skills of the sailor, and then for the waves to subside. We don't need to pray for hardship and heartache. We certainly don't need to develop a martyr mentality. However, we can certainly set our prayers on what Jesus wants most.

God is the "God of Comfort." That does not mean He's the God of comfortableness, but that He comforts those who are afflicted and overwhelmed. If you are feeling overwhelmed right now, the waves are crashing over the rails, I'm not lowering the boom and expecting you to buck up and just grow. "To the task, you scurvy dog ... Arrrrrrr!!!!" There are times when we just need comfort from the God of Comfort.

On the other hand, I do want to keep a weather eye to the horizon of discipleship and check ourselves that we're not praying for God to take away the rough seas He intends for the purpose of making skillful sailors.

What are you looking for?

There was a time of little choice. Not long ago, the news you got was whatever the local paper decided to print and what the local TV and radio stations decided to broadcast. You didn't get to pick, and the only filter you had was your choice whether or not to read a given article. If you were lucky, your source of news was relatively objective.

Then cable TV happened. Then the Internet happened. And then we had plenty of choices. Not only could we choose sources that leaned more in our preferred direction on any topic or interest, we could effectively filter out anything we didn't want, whether it was a topic we didn't care about or an opposing view on a topic we did care about.

Then social media happened, and we could easily repost any article that affirmed the view we already had, or post the worst of the view we didn't like, with the comment, "See? See how wrong they are and how right I am?" Politics, religion, conference rivals, race, terrorism, vaccinations, and ... sadly ... dress colors.

It is not my concern here to encourage you to be fairminded and read a variety of views to be well-rounded, informed, and empathetic. Of course you should, but barking up that tree distracts from another tree I want to yelp up.

Posting only the best of your side and the worst of the other side, then crying out, "See?!?", is dishonest. It's unnecessarily polarizing in an environment already about to snap. It makes you feel better about what you already believe, and shuts off any maturation of your view. It reveals some level of insecurity about your own view, like snuggling up in bed with your blankie and teddy bear during a rainstorm rather than running outside and playing in the pooling waters with the neighbor kids.

We end up reading the news, looking for ways to say, "Gotcha!", rather than to learn about the world around us.

Most of all, it presents an inaccurate view of the Kingdom of God. It tells others that the king you serve is not a listener. It paints a picture of a fragile kingdom, threatened by complex views. Apparently, this kingdom is not into dialog, interaction, discovery, and mutual respect. It makes rigidity the king, rather than a King who is so secure that he fears no opinion or a King who delights in others more than in their opinons. It diverts eyes away from this King.

Disagree. In fact, be really good at disagreeing. Be really, really good while you disagree.

The Action of an Attitude

"Boy, I really worshiped God yesterday."

What images immediately come to mind about what actually went on yesterday? What action? What location? What day? What really went on? The most common response is likely that this person was in a Sunday morning worship service, and the music being sung and played was especially moving in some way. And there's nothing particularly wrong with that. But it is probably the image most people envision in response to this statement.

We know well that "worship" is not equivalent to "music." (Even knowing that, we still often use the word "worship" to refer specifically to worship music, and then usually in the context of a Sunday morning gathering.) But even understanding this, though, some would say that although it's not the music, it is the emotions behind the music: the standing, the hand raising ... you know, really feeling it. That's worship - when you really feel it. And some people really feel it much more than others (who apparently, worship God less).

We often confine worship to Sunday morning. We even call it a "worship service." That's not an incorrect term, but then we end up saying odd things like, "Let's begin to worship." We're not worshiping, we're not worshiping, we're not worshiping ... wait for iiiiiiiiitttt ... NOW! Now, we've begun to worship! And then we'd better be "done worshiping" before the Baptists take all the good tables at the restaurants.

Those who don't particularly get into music have to then come up with apologetic excuses, like "I worship God in my own way." Because, you know, I can't seem to do it the right way.

The most common Greek word used in the New Testament that we translate "worship" means "to bow down, to prostrate oneself, to kiss the hand." There are two parts to this: the attitude (humble reverence toward someone) and action (bowing down). Nothing about music, a certain time of the week, or a certain building. Worship is the action of an attitude. Not necessarily a physical bowing down; rather, an attitude that's never just an attitude, but one that ends up in an action that expresses the attitude.

Singing is in fact one of those actions of worship - unless that singing has little to do with the attitude of bowing down to God. In fact, if "worship music" becomes about you having a particular feeling, it's not bowing down to God much at all. Rather, it's bowing down to a feeling. Having intense feelings while truly worshiping God through music is all well and good - I often feel that, and there's nothing wrong with enjoying that feeling. But when the feeling becomes the objective, we've switched what we're bowing down to.

The action of an attitude. Going to work and doing your job because you bow down to God and do your work because it advances His purposes in the world is a form of worship. Going to work to get a paycheck so you can buy things is not worship. Volunteering with Awana because people tell me you're good at it is not a form of worship, but serving in Awana, even enjoying it, because it's a way to bow down to God is. Trying to share something about Christ with your neighbor because of your awe for God is worship; sharing because you're supposed to is not very worshipful.

To say "I worship God" means that I live out an attitude of awe, reverence, respect, and honor. I do in order to demonstrate His great worth. I draw attention to His greatness with singing, learning, teaching, working, serving, helping, loving, and bearing witness. My actions reveal an attitude that God is awesome. "Worshipers of God" doesn't describe singers and it doesn't describe people with right doctrine. It describes people who live out awe.

I hope I will never begin to worship. I would like to think I've already started, and that I'll never stop. And I hope I'll continually get better at it.

I Don't Know How to Make a Disciple

We've talked a lot about "discipleship." So much so that some might be tired of the topic, or even just the word. One of the reasons we've talked so much about it is because of a conviction that we've talked too little about it for far too long. Perhaps we're overcorrecting a bit, but given that discipling others is the thing Jesus told us to be about, it would be disobedient for us to not keep this as our primary activity.

Despite all the talk about discipleship, we still have a nagging question, "But how do I do it?" Where's the step-by-step guide? What does it look like? I agree I should be about it, but I'm not sure what it is I should be about.

The definition of "discipleship" that I like the most is: moving from unbelief to belief in every area of life in light of the Gospel.(1) This definition allows for important ideas: that discipleship begins before someone is born from above, that everyone can be discipled, and that even after believing in Christ there are still areas of unbelief that need to move toward belief. This definition is an ongoing process, not something that we finish after a 12-week study.

Given this definition, it's easy to see why we haven't presented a "how to" manual. The possibilities are endless on how we can help one another move from unbelief to belief in an area of life. It can be a Bible study, it can be working side by side for some cause, it can be while grieving over the loss of a loved one. It can be formal or informal, planned or unplanned, face-to-face or side-by-side. How do we help one another identify our areas of unbelief, and then without judgment, encourage one another to move toward belief?

Therefore, "making disciples" (I prefer "discipling") is not like making widgets. There is a set way to make a widget, and once you've made a widget, it's done. It's a widget or it's not. When we look at making disciples this way, we naturally begin to reduce disciplemaking down to things like doctrine, spiritual disciplines, and behavior. Just get those three things down, and boom ... you're a widget. Agree to the right doctrinal statement, be able to check off your list daily that you read and prayed, and stop doing bad stuff. This is not a "disciple"!!!

The word disciple means student or apprentice. Those words aren't like widgets. They are postures. One is a student if she has the posture of learning. One is an apprentice if he has an ongoing learning-by-example relationship with a journeyman. A disciple is defined by an orientation toward Jesus, not an accumulation of knowledge and behaviors.

Therefore, making a disciple is not like producing a product. Rather, it is helping someone assume certain posture toward Christ. It's not about giving them all the information, but helping them orient toward the Teacher for all things. It's not about learning spiritual disciplines, but adopting habits that orient us toward the Teacher. It's not about better behavior, but living a life of learning how to live from the Teacher. How do you make a student? By helping them adopt the posture of a student, not by grading pop quizzes.

I recently asked some middle school kids if they were able to disciple one another. They all said no. Then I asked them if they could help one another move from unbelief to belief in some areas of life. They all said yes. They certainly can disciple one another! (Just don't call it that.)

Can we help one another maintain a student posture? Can we help one another develop an apprentice relationship with Jesus? Certainly. Just do that. You'll learn better and better ways as we all move forward in this journey together, but just do that. Just encourage one another to move from unbelief to belief in specific areas of our lives. That, of course, requires authentic relationships.

(1) Caesar Kalinowski

I've Often Not Been on Boats

One of our favorite movies is Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead - a very clever Tom Stoppard 1990 movie based on his equally clever 1966 stage play. Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are bit characters in Shakespeare's Hamlet, who appear in just few scenes of Shakespeare, but are the main characters of this story.

In R&GAD, Rosencrantz and Guildenstern (or is it Guildenstern and Rosencrantz?) travel through the parts of Hamlet that their characters appear in, all the time trying to determine what the rest of Hamlet is about. They appear in only a few scenes of Hamlet, but from just those scenes as "real characters" caught in the story, they are trying to determine the full story of Hamlet. What they end up with is convoluted and inaccurate, because their characters are never exposed to key parts of the story.

The dialog is clever and quick, including a verbal tennis match. The comedy ranges from simple slapstick to deep irony. They ponder the meaning of life, death, time, and even boats. At one point, there's a play within a play within a play within a play. It's a movie worth seeing several times, because you don't catch every joke, gag, and line the first time around.

Sometimes we do the same thing with life as Rosencrantz and Guildenstern. We look at only the scenes in which we appear, and then try to figure out the overall narrative, the "big picture" of life. Based on just the tidbits we personally experience, we try to reconstruct an intelligent play written by a gifted author. And we rarely do a good job of it. We ponder the meaning of life, death, time, and even boats, and conclude something far more convoluted than the actual narrative, because we've not been exposed to key parts of the story.

Rather, we should just read the full play that the author wrote. Only then does the whole story make sense. And only then do our few scenes make sense. The story is not about us, and so we cannot reconstruct the story based only on the scenes that do happen to be about us.

Rosencrantz says,

Whatever became of the moment when one first knew about death? There must have been one. A moment. In childhood. When it first occurred to you that you don't go on forever. Must have been shattering, stamped into one's memory. And yet, I can't remember it. It never occurred to me at all. We must be born with an intuition of mortality. Before we know the word for it. Before we know that there are words. Out we come, bloodied and squalling, with the knowledge that for all the points of the compass, there's only one direction, and time is its only measure.

This unalterable progression of time is a storyline greater than our own, approaching long before we are born and advancing long after we die. Our lives are but one brief paragraph of a great play by a gifted author, rendered overly complex when we try to understand it from the inside out.