So Much Death

Last week, one of my students died.

He was a husband and father, and he was one month away from graduation. He fell ill, and within just a few days, passed away. He was gone before I even knew he was sick. Unfortunately, his story is not all that unusual in Kenya.

Edwin was a student at a seminary in Kenya where I have taught several times. I was by no means one of his most imporant teachers, and to say "my student" only means that I had the privilege of having him in a few of the short classes I taught. There are other, very gifted teachers who spoke much more into his life.

Under normal circumstances, we talk about students in terms of their academic prowess, as if that's the most important attribute of being a student. Edwin did good work, and I appreciated his contributions in class and in group assignments. But his greatest attribute was not whether he was an A or a C student, but that he was committed to use whatever he learned. His identity as a student more about applying everything he could learn and less about grade cards or the idle accumulation of knowledge. He wanted to learn so that he could apply it right away.

Sometimes as students we say, "I don't even know why we're studying this." Someone chose it to teach to us, but somewhere along the way, we can end up without knowing what we're learning it for. On the other hand, when we know from the beginning how we're going to apply what we're about to learn, we are far more motivated to learn. Along the way, we ask far more pertinent questions, we solidify it as knowledge by actually using it, and then we have truly "learned."

This is where death comes in. Death is not more common in Kenya than in the US. The death rate in both countries is 100%. Life expectancy may differ, but there is no less death per capita. There is so much death ... in both countries!

Death is why we learn. "Why am I studying this?" Because one day, you will die.

That doesn't render your education meaningless. Quite the opposite! It makes what you learn precious. You will die one day ... but until that day, with a limited number of days between now and then, the things that we can do that will matter will require learning. In almost every case, what we-who-will-die can do that will have any real meaning requires us to learn. And so, because death is entirely common, we learn in order to do meaningful things.

Put another way, since we each only have a finite number of days left, it's hard to redeem those days with activities that require little learning. If we want to spend those days well, we remain students.

For example, it doesn't take much learning to spend time with your kids at the park. But we must be students of both our children and the world around us in order to connect our children to their habitat in a meaningful way. Where did the trees come from? Why does it matter to recreate as a family? Why is that guy on the bench homeless? And what should we do about it? How do you throw a curveball? Why should we pick up our trash (even from a theological perspective!)? Why is fair play important, since the workaday world is dog-eat-dog? Do I have enough money for ice cream? Why is that old woman alone - what is death? What happens after we die?

That which will be valuable in the dwindling days of our time here will be far more substantive if we're students. Death is why we learn this stuff.

Learning to send or Being sent to learn?

Our typical pattern in churches for years has been:

1. Come together to learn about Jesus
2. Go into the field to share about Jesus with others

Gather, then scatter. Learn, then share. Repeat. 

The "go" could be around the world or across the street, into the inner city or at the kids' soccer game. That's what being "sent" means - learn then go. There's usually an iterative process here of learning and going, but the general flow puts the learning here and the going there (and, by the way, you'll do some learning there, too).

This is not a bad pattern at all - I'm not going to criticize it, and in fact it is very appropriate in many contexts. Jesus certainly employed this with His disciples.

But I was struck with a different model, recently. Instead of going into in order to share what I've learned about Jesus, what if I went into in order to learn as much about Jesus as I can in that place? For example, rather than going into my neighborhood to tell my neighbors all the cool stuff I've learned about Jesus, instead I go into my neighborhood with the intent of learning about Jesus while dwelling there among my neighbors.

The premise: Jesus is already at work in my neighborhood (or whichever place we want to talk about). He's already there, He already reigns over all things, and He's already involved in the lives of my neighbors, whether they acknowledge Him or not. Rather than the arrogance of already knowing that they need to know about Jesus and being so gracious as to let them know some of it, this is a posture of humility - I have much to learn about Jesus, and in particular, I have a lot to learn about Him from and through my neighbors. There are ways of knowing Jesus that I can only learn in my neighborhood. So, I can endeavor to learn about Jesus by doing life with my neighbors (or coworkers or fellow soccer parents), to get to know Jesus in far more intimate ways by trusting Him and expecting to discover Him in my neighborhood. Jesus is already there and there's much to learn about Him there. I just need to really be there in order to discover it. "Here I am - send me ... in order to find out even more about Jesus."

The theory: By doing the things we consider to be "missional" (building authentic, unconditional relationships, praying consistently for our neighbors, sharing meals with them, serving them, sharing with them), we are doing the very things that will end up revealing great things about Jesus. And not just to me ... to my neighbors, too. I can study in a classroom about trusting Jesus and learn a lot, or I can dare to trust Jesus in my neighborhood and really learn about trusting Him. I can study about prayer and then go practice it, or I can commit to practice it on behalf of my neighbors and then learn about it by how our relationships change and by how opportunities open up. I can read biographies about people who walked by faith and endeavor to emulate them, or I can walk by faith in my neighborhood and discover Jesus that way. I can get to know Jesus better by discovering how He's already at work in others.

There's a treasure of knowing Jesus in my neighborhood and in my workplace and in the stands at the soccer field! Am I willing to explore in order to find it?

Then I become far more eager to "do that missional stuff." If I try by my determination to be missional because I should, I won't last long. If I realize that living missionally is how I will most learn about Jesus, then I become eager to dwell in my neighborhood with my neighbors. I don't have to remind myself to pray for them - I become eager to pray for them because I'm going to learn about Jesus this way.

Learning-to-send is not a bad model, and we should continue to employ this idea. But I think we should do a whole lot more of the Being-sent-to-learn model. We are sent (John 20:21). We are told to "Go!" (Matt 28:19). If it is in being sent that I will learn most about Jesus, I'm eager to go.

Doing is the Second Half of Learning

Tell me and I forget, teach me and I may remember, involve me and I learn.

-- Benjamin Franklin

Last week, I asked a pair of questions during the sermon. The first was, "What kind of verb is the word follow?" Immediately, the right answer came from several directions: "Action!" Then the second question, "How similar is that word to what we're doing right now?" Crickets, at least for a few seconds. Then the realization ... it's impossible to follow Christ by just sitting down.

There are times to sit and learn, but we will never be followers of Jesus if sitting down "learning" is the bulk of our Christian experience. Sitting to listen to a sermon, sitting to learn in a Bible study or Sunday school class, sitting in a circle in a small group. All of these are valuable and important. But they do not comprise the phrase following Christ.

To follow anyone, we must do what they do. That's the simplest definition of follow. The word in the original language of John 6:66-71 carries the idea to follow a teaching by obeying it. A follower of Jesus does the same kinds of things He does (within the sphere of human ability). It is a stretch to call oneself a follower of Jesus based just on regular attendance to sitting-and-learning events.

Let's look at this another way. Let's consider the word obey in terms of being a learner. But before we do, let's also look alternate ways to think about the word obey.

Obedience as "ought". Perhaps this is the most common view. We do because we're supposed to. It's what good followers do. We ought do some things, and we ought not to do other things, and getting those categories sorted out well means obedience.

Obedience as righteousness. Take that a step further, and you can look at obedience as a form of righteousness. By obeying, you're becoming more righteous - a better person, a purer person.

Both ideas have some merit. There is some sense of "ought" to obeying Christ - we certainly ought to. There is even a sense that we do become more righteous the more we walk in His ways (even though we cannot merit His favor or earn salvation in any way). However, I think there's a stronger motivation than these that God has for us for obedience.

Obedience as learning. Jesus taught His disciples, sometimes sitting down as a group, sometimes on a hillside or in a boat, and sometimes along the way. But teach He did. However, He also had His disciples do. They handled the fish and the loaves, they retrieved the donkey, they prepared the Last Supper, they went out by two's to tell others about the Kingdom. He did not expect them to obey just because they ought to or to make them more righteous. He did this to teach them! As they obeyed, they would learn. 

Why do we expect Him to teach any differently today? Have we outgrown the need to do in order to learn? Can we just study forgiveness and learn it, without actually ever forgiving anyone? Or, will we only learn forgiveness when we actually forgive someone?

That would mean that Jesus wants to me forgive not just because I ought or in order to be more righteous, but to really, truly, actually learn forgiveness. And I need to learn forgiveness because that's one of His key attributes. I cannot get to know the forgiving Christ well without learning forgiveness by forgiving people.

Not just forgiveness. Apply this same idea to anything He wants us to learn: love, joy, grace, generosity, compassion, humility, patience, endurance, surrender, and so on. We won't get to know well the Christ who loves unless we learn love by loving people. Go on down the list.

So, why do so many of our Christian teaching venues have chairs?

Consider the seated learning as the "first half of learning." Then consider the unseated, action verb learning as the "second half of learning." Whenever you learn something about walking in the way of Christ, don't consider that you've learned it until you're doing it. Take that lesson and find some way to do it right away - that day, that week, sometime before you try to learn the next thing. Don't declare you learned something awesome in a sermon until you're doing that awesome thing or actually living according to that awesome thing. Then you've learned it!

The last thing we want for our Bible studies is for us to learn something that we're going to disobey only to come back the next week and learn something else we're going to disobey.

You will get to know Christ better by this. It's a way of learning! Jesus even says so Himself in John 14:21. Rather than some mystical appearing of Jesus for those who obey, I rather suspect what He means is, "As you obey, what you are doing is getting to know Me in ways you can't learn by just sitting in a chair."

The one who has my commandments and keeps them—that one is the one who loves me. And the one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I will love him and will reveal myself to him. (John 14:21)