ABNY Week

I'm in a rather unique window of time this week. 

Last week, my dad began cancer treatments. It's not a grave scenario, and the non-chemo treatments are for better quality of life rather than trying to stave off his mortal decline. The side effects are not severe, and in his case, manageable and quite minor. But it's still cancer treatment, an ominous reminder of the inevitable degradation of the human body. We get old and eventually die.

On the other hand, this Sunday, I won't be with you all because I'll be at my folks' church with the amazing privilege of baptizing my own mother. Baptism is the most prominent Christian symbol of new birth, new life, and our everlasting existence in the Kingdom of God. The exact opposite of the decay and death of our fallen state. The promise that is needed only because of things like cancer.

And I'm in this week, the middle of these two events in the lives of my own parents. Yet, this week is a microcosm of the era we all live in - somewhere between the inevitable destruction of these bodies and the fulfillment of the eternal promise of everlasting life by grace through faith in Jesus Christ.

We must not, however, think about the Kingdom of God as something that is only future. There is clearly a great future of enjoying the full Kingdom for all time, with the complete absence of sin, death, sorrow, pain, suffering - the complete absence of the results of being a sinful race. No more cancer and no more cancer treatments and no more side effects of cancer treatments. New, glorified bodies designed to endure forever.

However, the Kingdom of God is also present. Jesus told His own generation that the Kingdom of God was already upon them. At the moment we become members of God's family through faith in Christ, we enter the Kingdom in this era. Our citizenship is in heaven already. We can experience attributes of the Kingdom today. We can live as citizens of the Kingdom this week. Jesus can be our King and reign over every aspect of our lives now. Even while we have things like cancer. Especially because we have things like cancer.

We can also bring aspects of the Kingdom to those God puts us in contact with. Not only can Jesus reign over our lives, but by our influence through the power of the indwelling Holy Spirit, we can bring the goodness of our King to our environments, "on earth as it is in heaven." 

We cannot usher in God's Kingdom, and it is not our task to (contrary to what the "Kingdom Now" theologians claim). We can, however, bless those around us with the benefit of the Kingdom's impact on their lives, too.

If you are not yet sure you're a member of this Kingdom already, it would be a privilege for me to talk with you about it.

In this week, between cancer and the sign of new birth into the Kingdom of God, I rest in the already but not yet. I am able to rest because I know I have already entered that Kingdom, and I am convinced that its fulfillment is even more inevitable than the decline of my own body.

What If?

1. What if God really did create everything from nothing some time ago? Would this define my reason for being here? Would this define my relationship with Him? Does it reveal how He feels about me? Does it give Him any authority over me? Does it provide a way for me to participate in the work He is busy doing?
    
2. What if Jesus really is who the New Testament describes? If he is more than a teacher, but actually divine, equal to God the Father but somehow a distinct Person, does that put him in a unique category in the world? If he really has existed from eternity past and was sent to us, does that justify his claim to be our sole means to the Kingdom of God? If he really is "that guy," how should I respond to him?
    
3. What if Jesus really did rise from the dead? If this happened, is what he claimed during his life on earth authenticated? If he defeated death, can he defeat it for me, too? If this miracle really happened, are other miracles possible? Is anything impossible for him?
    
4. What if not doing what is God's will was as sinful as doing what is not God's will? (What if that question made sense?) What if not feeding the hungry was as wrong as murder? What if merely avoiding the big sins was categorically as sinful as not avoiding them? What if "thou shalt" was just as important as "thou shalt not"? What if not being busy with God's mission was as sinful as smoking crack? What if living in the Kingdom meant living like the Kingdom, rather than just avoiding living like the world?
    
5. What if character was more important than accomplishment? What if what people can't really see had more eternal value than the stuff they can see and praise? Am I willing to be ethically unemployed more than I'm willing to be unethically employed? If I valued character over accomplishment, would I ever lie about anything ever again? What if this statement truly had more meaning for me than just a saying that we are all obligated to agree with?
    
6. What if being good was better than being right? Would I rather win a disagreement or bless someone I disagree with? Does it make sense to turn someone away from God by how much I insist on being proven right? What if "truth" was more than just the correctness of facts, but also the attitude with which they are presented?
    
7. What if my every complaint exposed something I need to change about myself? Wouldn't it be neat if my feelings of being annoyed were a clue that there's still something within me that could improve? Wouldn't it be convenient to have a reminder that I'm selfish, I'm proud, I'm argumentative, I'm narrow-minded, I'm inconsiderate, I'm incomplete, and that I make mistakes - some feeling that would remind me of these things?
    
8. What if I didn't deserve any of the good things I have? How would I treat my stuff if I believed it wasn't owed to me? Would I hoard it? Would I refuse to be generous? Would I compare myself to others by how much of it I have? Would I brag about it? Would I define my self-worth from it? Would I forget those who have less (or none) of it?
    
9. What if I really was going to die one day? What if there really was this day when I would stop breathing, and everything about my life would be given a cosmic perspective? Would I value time? Would I spend it like a limited commodity? On my deathbed (assuming there is one, of course), would I care more about how I treated people or about what I've consumed and accumulated? Would my preferred words be "who and how" or "what and how much"? Would Right and Wrong bear any significance if I had only seconds left to breathe the air of this world? What if I knew now that one day I'll be dead? What will I be doing 100 million years from now?
    
10. What if confessing my sin was more curative than revealing only my good attributes? Is it possible that God actually forgives? If God already knows everything, is it possible that admitting it all to Him would benefit my relationship with Him? Even though the other person was wrong (too), if confessing my sin to him was the best road to reconciliation, would I do it? But isn't it a better "witness" to let people think that you think that they think that you think that you have no big flaws? Isn't it just easier to tell everyone you're "fine"?

Or maybe it's just me.

Lord, please don't let me be a slobbering mess

This weekend, I have the staggering privilege of officiating my niece's wedding near Dallas. I've performed a number of weddings - not dozens and dozens, but enough to have a variety of experiences. The level of crying at these weddings has ranged from zero to moderate to the longest snot-rope I've ever seen dangling from anyone's nose, let alone a bride's. My concern this time is whether or not I will keep it all together - this will be the first time I've officiated for a family member, and the first time for someone I once held as a baby.

I remember the first wedding I officiated. I was still in seminary while serving at a church. Two of my close seminary friends got engaged and asked me to do their premarital counseling and officiate their wedding. At first, it was all exciting adventure into new territory and I jumped in with eagerness, a tiny measure of fear, and a paltry sense that I knew what I was doing. But these were two friends also going through seminary, and they graciously empathized all the way.

On the day of the wedding, exactly 5 minutes before we were supposed to walk out into the sanctuary, I realized something I had somehow never thought of before. I can't do this!!! Who am I to declare two people married? Wait a minute ... just because I say a few words and sign a document, poof! my two friends are now suddenly husband and wife? Hocus pocus, abracadabra, Turtle Power! And now they are united in a covenant before God and have a new legal status before the state. I can't do that! That's only for real pastors.

My head spun, I actually checked to see where the exit was, and I started drumming up excuses. Failing to find a good enough excuse, I just walked out there and started what we had planned on. It turned out to be a fun, joyful, and memorable wedding. Not primarily because of me ... which means I succeeded in just kickstarting the ceremonial part of it and then getting out of the way.

Today, this couple has four wonderful, fun-loving kids and are living in Spain serving as missionaries, learning anew how to thrive in a different setting as a family.

Then I mentally run through all the other couples for whom I've had this honor, and I see parents, expecting parents, adoptive parents, and future parents. I see people building a household, involved in their communities, influencing others, and even helping younger couples prepare for marriage. I see them post their joys and challenges online, with snapshots of living life as family.

I'm taking no credit for that - not in the least. Rather, I'm reveling in the amazing privilege it is to stand before a couple and before God and look past the horizon to envision all that can blossom from marriage. The trials, difficulties, and disappointments are all real, but what can multiply from marriage is enough to make a grown man cry. Especially an uncle standing before his niece, a young man (who had better watch his step!), and God.

Maybe I could go for that snot-rope record...

Under Pressure!

Have you ever felt pressured by others to share your faith? I'm not talking about the positive pressure of encouragement, like two teammates spurring each other on to run faster, jump higher, or hit harder. I'm talking about harsh pressure, like you're being forced to eat your vegetables, and if you don't, you're a bad person. Have you ever felt that? (And I am fully aware that there may have been times when I have unintentionally been the one to apply that pressure.)

Those negative, even guilt, feelings we have about this are compounded when we remember that we actually have something wonderful to share. Now, I feel twice as bad - not only am I not doing what I ought, but it's not like I'm withholding bad news. Good news should be easy to share, right? If I really believed this was wonderful news, then why am I such the horrible person who doesn't share it?

Why do we feel this pressure? Surprisingly, this pressure most often does not come from the encouragement to share our faith. That's not the real issue in most cases, I believe. But because we think it's the issue, then we suffer the twin devils of pressure and guilt.

The actual issue, in my opinion, is that we feel pressured to share our faith in a particular way - a way that's foreign, unnatural, mysterious, awkward, uncomfortable, manipulative, or completely contrary to our personal makeup. We (mistakenly) think, or have been (mistakenly) told, that not only should we share our faith, but that it must be done in a particular way - that sharing your faith is synonymous with a particular method. And if that way doesn't match your personality, then your personality is deficient, stubborn, or even sinful. Pressure applied, thank you very much.

The underlying error is worse: a mentality that has reduced the Gospel to something like "Three Steps to Avoid Hell." We take the fullness of the Gospel, squeeze it down into "fire insurance," and then are left with nothing but pressured-filled ways that it must be shared.

Search the Gospels - you'll never find Jesus reducing the Gospel like that. Rather, He consistently speaks of the nearness, the nature, and the accessibility of the Kingdom of God. He never reduces the Gospel to getting your ticket punched. There's far too little space in the blog to fully discuss the significance of this observation.

Instead of saying, "Share your faith in a prescribed way or else you're a bad Christian," let me offer a different kind of encouragement: Leave Kingdom fingerprints everywhere. As you live, as you work, as you play, as you have family time, leave "evidence" of the Kingdom of God. Demonstrate the nearness of the Kingdom by living as a representative in the midst of others. Bring the nature of the Kingdom into your work and activities by infusing its attributes into everything you do, attributes such as integrity, compassion, and justice. Make the accessibility of the Kingdom obvious by being authentic and transparent, and as appropriate, but letting others know how accessible it is. How can I exit every scene of the story of my life with some evidence of the Kingdom left behind?

Sharing how someone can become a member of God's Kingdom (the redux of the rich Gospel) still has a prominent place, but is now set in the larger frame of seeing our life's task as leaving Kingdom fingerprints everywhere. My "job" is to leave as much evidence as possible. That doesn't seem very pressure-filled to me.

No formula. No recipe. Just a lifestyle of leaving evidence of the Kingdom everywhere you go, from the gym to the grocery store to neighborhood association meeting. Some of the evidence is the example you give, some of the evidence is by adding Kingdom values to a situation that needs it, some of the evidence is verbal testimony. I don't want to limit your imagination on ways to do this. Acts of mercy and compassion, being there with someone in sorrow, offering truth without necessarily quoting chapter and verse, all kinds of ways to leave Kingdom fingerprints. Artists and bridge builders can leave evidence; teachers and truck drivers can leave evidence; students and retirees can leave evidence. Everywhere.

By the word "fingerprints," I don't necessarily mean something subtle, hard to detect, and insignificant. I mean evidence that can be obvious and traceable - evidence that any observer would easily trace back to the Kingdom of God, and in fact make it hard to ignore the Kingdom of God. Leave enough evidence to be convicted of being a citizen of God's Kingdom.

Mettle Count

I'm a sucker for the Olympics. I tell myself I'm not going to watch much of it, which is like telling myself I'm not going to eat breakfast. I don't watch every minute (especially since we've cut cable), but I do like having it on while I can. I root for the underdogs, I root for the hardest-working, greatest-sacrificing athletes, I root for the Americans and the Italians (and the Jamaicans). And I'm bugged.

From one angle, I'm just fascinated by the results of hard work, endless training, determination, fighting through injuries, and physical accomplishments. We are watching the utmost in human accomplishments in specific skills - the endurance of cross country, the artistry of skating, the control of the biathlon, the mad sweeping skills of curling (you knew that was coming), and on down the line. The best in the world in this age achieving as close to the maximum as anyone on earth. Many of them make it look effortless, even though most people couldn't even accomplish even a fraction of what they're doing. Truly, man is fearfully and wonderfully made.

From another angle, I'm bothered by grown people spending years of their lives just to win at a sporting event. For many, a gold medal will never lead to a career, endorsements, or a regular income. For most, they won't even medal. I think especially of those who are eliminated in the very first round. You travel halfway around the world, and in two minutes, your Olympic participation is over. Even for the medalists who end up with long-term benefits, how important is it really to win sliding on the ice and snow?

I know I can't have one without the other - approaching the human potential requires the years of dedication, which is my conundrum.

From yet another angle, and perhaps more this year than ever, I see some athletes who are good enough to be in the running, but it all seems to be a personal playscape for them. They have the potential to be great (my first observation), but don't take it seriously (the opposite of my second observation).

I'm not saying that any Olympian is wasting their time or just being worldly. Even the two-minute wonders are impressive to me. Rather, they can prove to be good examples for us. I compare the magnitude of our prizes and our dedication. Our prize in Christ is the Kingdom; the prize of even the purest-motivated Olympian is a medal, perhaps an income, and even less likely, a career. Our dedication in Christ should be greater than the dedication of the hardest-working Olympian ... but frankly, too many of us aren't as committed for the Kingdom as they are for a medal. We have the greater prize and too often the lesser commitment. Let the Olympians inspire us not just as wannabe athletes, but as a people dedicated to the greatest prize. Call it our "mettle count."

Paul also drew encouragement from the Olympians of his day:

1 Cor 9:24 Do you not know that all the runners in a stadium compete, but only one receives the prize? So run to win. 9:25 Each competitor must exercise self-control in everything. They do it to receive a perishable crown, but we an imperishable one.  9:26 So I do not run uncertainly or box like one who hits only air. 9:27 Instead I subdue my body and make it my slave, so that after preaching to others I myself will not be disqualified.

Php 3:12 Not that I have already attained this—that is, I have not already been perfected—but I strive to lay hold of that for which Christ Jesus also laid hold of me. 3:13 Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself to have attained this. Instead I am single-minded: Forgetting the things that are behind and reaching out for the things that are ahead, 3:14 with this goal in mind, I strive toward the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus.

The Church in the Book of Acts - Descriptive or Prescriptive?

How does the Book of Acts inform us on what a modern church should be like?

View 1: The Church in the Book of Acts is merely descriptive. Luke (the author of Acts) was not intending to record what other churches must do, or even should do, but just what the First Century Church did do. Clearly, there were incidents of bad behavior, confusion, mistakes, arguments, and changing structures. In fact, it's impossible to replicate the "First Century Church," because it was a moving target. This view is favored by a majority of the modern Church, especially highly institutionalized churches.

View 2: The Church in the book of Acts is prescriptive - Luke is informing us how we should do things. We must return to the ways of the First Century Church, because that's the way the Apostles did it. The modern Church has become too enamored with the methods of the world, too corporate, too institutionalized, too dedicated to its own infrastructure to be effective. And that failure is precisely because we have fallen away from the organic, grassroots example in the Book of Acts. We must replicate the First Century Church and her ways. This view is favored by the house church movement and the "emergent church" advocates.

In all fairness, these two views as described are oversimplified. Each view is far more nuanced and accommodating than described here, but the differences are clearly illustrated in this condensed form.

The question is an important one, because it affects how we position our church gatherings, priorities, and activities. It affects how leaders lead, how goals are set, how groups meet, where meetings happen, and how success is measured - virtually everything about church life can be defined by whether a local church favors one view of the other.

Let me introduce two more views, based on the first two:

View 3: This is more of a salad bar approach. Pick and choose which aspects of the First Century Church you think are applicable, and forget the rest. "We like the deacon idea, but not the house church location. We like the idea of feeding widows, but we really don't like the idea of everyone bringing their possessions in to be shared with the rest." This hybrid approach can be either justified through careful study, or it can be a lazy attachment of only those verses that appear to reinforce foregone conclusions.

View 4: Copy what the First Century Church focused on, but have freedom on how it should get done in a given context. Replicate their goals and priorities, and even take notice of their techniques and strategies, but be fixed on the former and flexible on the latter.

View 4 is where I want to spend my time. Having deacons or not, how money is collected and used, where you meet - those are all how questions, not what questions. The "what" of the First Century Church was to proclaim and demonstrate that the Kingdom of God is present and available through Christ. They were focused on making disciples and were seeing people's lives radically changed as they began to follow Christ, forsaking their loyalty to the world's system. This must be replicated, but the methods change with the context.

So much of the church literature is focused on the how question - how to grow a church, how to lead Bible studies, how to run a children's ministry. These are not bad things to consider. But there is a growing set of literature that focuses on the what question, sometimes even refusing to address the how (which can frustrate readers who just want a "how-to" manual). The first kind of literature compares your church to other modern churches. The second kind of literature compares your church to the First Century Church, but not in technique - just in priorities and commitments.

The question is really this: How well does your church stick to proclaiming and demonstrating the reign of Christ by focusing on personal disciplemaking? Are you seeing the kinds of activities (not necessarily methods) in your church that are written about in the Book of Acts? Are lives being radically changed, or are people merely being pleased with well-run programs?

It's those places where we see a disconnect between our church and the First Century Church's priorities that tell us where to put our energy. Rather than be discouraged by the differences and how we "come up short," be encouraged by seeing clearly how to best improve your church in the most important ways! It doesn't matter if your church is different than the bigger, slicker, better funded church that's serving a totally different context. It does matter if what happened in the First Century Church is rarely happening in your own.

If you're a church leader, it's a simple as "you really do already know what you should do" but as complex as "there's a ton of reading and dialoging you need to do with those further down the road than you."

If you're not a church leader and you don't have leadership pull in your church, the next step is actually pretty simple. Within the church structure you already have, work with likeminded folks to create a pocket of intentional disciplemaking. Start as yeast - you don't need to start a new program, get a logo, design a website, or have a slogan. Just clear your calendar and start making disciples in a small context. Don't worry about big - let big happen.

If you don't know where to start, I'd be happy to talk and suggest some ideas.

The Crazy Things You Learn When Teaching Others

Well, God showed up in a big way.

Last weekend, I was in Central Texas to reprise a set of talks for a youth retreat based on The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis, which I wrote about in last week's Grace Notes. I know that a number of you were praying specifically for a good weekend.

It's a role I had done for this church three times before - the first time was 20 years ago (before any of the students attending this year were born!). I have also done these talks in two or three other venues. I change and tweak it every time, but a lot of the material has remained the same, including the ending - although I've never been pleased with the ending.

This year, the youth pastor of the church in Austin asked if I wanted to work in a Wormwood character (read the book!), which we had never done before. I thought it was a good idea, but I didn't really do anything with the idea until the week of the retreat. So it was a completely new element added late. I wrote in the character to ask occasional questions to open up a few topics for further discussion.

The day before the retreat, I also wrote down a vague note that perhaps Wormwood should lead a rebellion against my character (Screwtape, in essence) after the last session Saturday night. No details, just that much of an idea. Another completely new element to the script, and possibly a whole new ending.

I had never met the guy (John) who would play Wormwood until 1/2 hour before the first talk. We went over some last minute questions, and just ran with it. John did  a great job Friday night being the confused nephew and I had fun putting him down (as part of the character). Saturday morning's sessions also went well, with Wormwood beginning to ask better questions, but also starting to challenge Screwtape more.

That afternoon, we finally started to plan the actual rebellion, well after we're in this thing knee-deep. We talked to the other leaders and a couple of seniors so that they were ready to join in the rebellion. What we didn't know is how the youth would react. How many would join in? What would they say? Would those who had already been confused the first night by being on Screwtape's side break allegiance so soon after finally settling into the idea?

And still, the rebellion was not scripted - just sketched out rather roughly. It would turn out to be the most important moment of the entire weekend. (How could we have not had this ending all the other times I've presented this?)

At the end of the first Saturday evening session, Wormwood got a little mouthy, but cowered when Screwtape dressed him down. Then after the last session, his question was a direct challenge. Screwtape exploded on him (I ended up completely destroying one of the props throwing it to the ground in "anger"). With Wormwood licking his wounds, Screwtape then turned his attention to the youth. Suddenly, Wormwood finally tears off his emblem of belonging to Screwtape and stands up to him, armed with pertinent passages of Scripture, and begins the rebellion.

The entire group of youth instantly joined in the rebellion! It gave me chills! They were adding their own passages and cheering on Wormwood. The "plants" in the audience could barely be heard over the noise. Screwtape was infuriated by the rebellion, but increasingly weakened by every passage. I had some prat falls, turned over chairs, picked up a boom stand to crack Wormwood on the head, but fell short. It was bedlam! At the passage, "Resist the devil and he will flee from you" (James 4:7), I fled out the door and the room erupted in cheers. 

It was an incredible scene, only partly planned and very unscripted. It was added at the last minute, and no one person put it all together to be able to take credit. During group time, most, if not all, of the groups were connecting dots and drawing incredible conclusions. Although the planned, scripted talks generated good cabin time discussions, none of them were able to spark what happened that night.

The capper for me was that after all this happened, the youth pastor (Jeremiah) realized in the middle of the campfire talk that the two main takeaways that they had planned for the youth (being in Scripture and having accountability partners) were fully demonstrated in this unplanned rebellion scene. Screwtape was run out of the room by Scripture and by the collection of people banding together in support of one another against the enemy. Scripture, and the power of accountability partners.

Jeremiah thought we had planned to work in those two elements, and that he was so clever to have figured that out. When he drew those conclusions for the youth, it clicked for all of us that God had certainly showed up, putting together a beautiful, coordinated lesson that no one person planned.