Bandits No More

July 20, 2010

Pursuing Holiness

Filed under: Discipleship,Spirituality,United Methodism — rheyduck @ 9:51 pm

One of the defining convictions of the Methodist movement is that it is possible to live a holy life, a life pleasing to God. Methodists have at least given lip service to this conviction since the days of John Wesley in the 18th century.

This conviction was no less popular in Wesley’s day than it is now. Three primary inclinations work against the conviction that holiness is possible. Some people have been badly burned by those who proclaim themselves to be holy. Through those actions, the “holy” life has been imagined to be the “stuffy,” “stilted,” “inauthentic,” “mean-spirited” or “narrow” life. As second inclination that stands against the conviction of possible holy living is that it is not, in fact possible. Try as we might, we will inevitably fail. While the first inclination is usually rooted in ones experience of others, this second inclination is more often rooted in ones experience of oneself. We’ve made the resolutions, we’ve tried to be perfect, yet we fail over and over again. A third inclination looks elsewhere. It sees that language of holiness – like some other words (righteousness, goodness, etc.) – divides people. These people are holy, those people are not. What we ought to say, according to this inclination, is that sure, people mess up sometimes, but deep down, all people are good, all people are already holy. And because the opposite of holy is marginalized, the emphasis on holiness is either muted or rejected.

United Methodists wouldn’t deny either of these kinds of experiences – we’d be foolish to try. But these experiences don’t tell us everything we need to know. Methodists have, however, historically recognized the reality and depth of human sin, that deep down all of us, even the best of us, are estranged from God, and profoundly fractured inside. In spite of this assessment of the human condition, and in spite of these experiences, Methodists remain hopeful about the possibility of holiness.

First, Methodists consider the commands of scripture. At the very least we run into God saying, “Be holy, because I am holy.” Then Jesus had to go and use the “P” word: “Be perfect, even as your heavenly Father is perfect.” While the counsel of despair might come on us at this point, Methodists have tended to draw the conclusion, “If God commands it, surely it must be possible.”

Second, Methodists consider that according to that same book of scripture, the life of holiness is not something we do on our own. My actions, my deed, my character, my performance, my resume – none of these will ever get me to the point where I am holy. Holiness, Wesley and his successors would say, is only possible through the presence and work of the Holy Spirit in us. The good news for us is that God not only commands holiness, but also graciously gives us the resources we need to live it.

It would be nice if, having said that our holiness is something the Holy Spirit does in us, we could just sit back, relax, and wait for it to happen. For holiness to happen, the Spirit will need to (a) remove some things, and, (b) add some other things. Some of this removing and adding is done through our cooperation, our learning to say NO to some of our desires and YES to God’s invitations. Just as marriage requires that we take up a certain set of practices, the life with God that leads to holiness requires us to take up certain practices.

Methodists modify these convictions with one more. The life of holiness, the embodiment of a life of love, joy and peace that is fully pleasing to God, is not only something for which we need the Spirit. It is also something for which we need other people. I will never be holy in isolation from the people around me. I need their input in my life. Sometimes that input is painful. They rebuke me and correct me. They offend me and hurt me, giving me opportunity to practice turning the other cheek and extending forgiveness. Other people, even those far from holiness (or at least far from what we take to be holiness), deliver us from self-righteousness by helping us see ourselves more clearly. Will we listen to them? Can we admit that we might hear the voice of God through them? It’s difficult, but that’s the way the holy life seems to work.

We also refuse to believe that holiness requires dullness. The life most pleasing to God is a life of love, joy, danger and adventure. Those are surely the characteristics we see in Jesus, the one we take as our model for life.

Are you interested in living a holy life? While Methodists believe Jesus is essential to the holy life, we don’t believe we have a corner on the market. In fact, we think we as a church are more likely to be holy the more we partner with disciples in other churches. Just as individuals usually go astray and miss holiness when they go it alone, so it is with churches. If you want live a holy life, try these few ideas. Worship God – not just on your own, but with others. Learn to hear “Yes” and “No.” Those inclined to depression and melancholy have trouble hearing Yes, while those convinced of their own rightness have trouble hearing No. God gives us both, so we need to be able to hear both. Take up some spiritual disciplines – reading the Bible, prayer, service. Finally, find a friend who would like to go on the journey with you, someone to encourage, provoke and challenge you, someone you will let speak into your life. Don’t go it alone.

July 13, 2010

Predictable?

Filed under: Spirituality — rheyduck @ 3:08 pm

We’re just back from a trip to our 2010 family reunion. With a family of five, this means lots of driving to get there and back, staying in hotels, and eating out. Come mealtime while on the road, we tend to look for places we already know. We look for a place we know to have food the kids will eat and where we can predict there will be clean restrooms. Some places maintain pretty high standards wherever we find them (Chick-Fil-A currently heads our list). Other places vary greatly from place to place. We value the predictable.

But sometimes we stray across the line.

Since we were going to Paducah, Kentucky for the reunion, we could have taken the kids to the 6 Flags amusement park outside St. Louis. They’ve been to 6 Flags parks before. They know what to expect. Two out of three of the children would have been happy. Instead, we went to Silver Dollar City in Branson.

While SDC had roller coasters, it was not aimed entirely at teenagers and lovers of thrills. It was a park apparently designed for the whole family, for many age ranges. The layout of the park gave it a tinge of mystery. When I drive by a 6 Flags park, I can see several roller coasters and rides as I pass at 60 mph. When you approach SDC all you see is trees. Even as you’re in line for a roller coaster at SDC you can see very little – if any – of the ride. You don’t know what the ride is like until you experience it. It has a level of unpredictability I hadn’t seen at other amusement parks.

Can we handle unpredictability? In the current economic downturn most of our institutions have become extremely risk-averse. We perceive ourselves to have fewer resources – and doubt whether our resources, once expended, can be replenished. So we wait for the sure thing, the thing we see as predictable. Big business, though itself fragile of late, is much more predictable than anything new. So we go with the tried and true, the folks we know. Want to be creative, want to do something different? Well, just make sure you do it exactly like everyone else if you want any funding or support.

Predictability gives us a sense of calm. It delivers us from anxiety. We have enough stress and worry now that the more stability we can find, the better.

I read a book on Chaos Theory several years ago (I think it might have been the one by James Gleick). When researchers began examining the patterns of human heart rate over time, their initial expectation was that greater regularity would reflect greater health, while instability in the pattern would signal impending problems. They found exactly the opposite. Apparently a heart verging on unhealth was more easily predictable than a healthy heart.

Max Weber told us of movements started by charismatics that turned into institutions as succeeding generations turned their charisma into rational routines. Routinization makes things predictable as they run smoothly. We’d be in trouble without any routines to follow. I’d suggest, however, that we’re in just as much trouble if all we have are routines. In fact, one reason churches are declining so much in the US is that we have so majored on routines that we routinized away our need for God. We have all of church life entirely predictable, entirely routinized and rationalized. We are mortally afraid of being in a place of needing God. While God might be ok as an assumption of a transcendental argument, an actual living, guiding, providing, communicating, judging God is the last thing we want. At least that’s the conviction one might read from our actions.

I don’t know if it’s just because I’m a P in a world of J’s, but I don’t want to settle for the predictable. I don’t want to settle for a safe, secure, predictable life, a life where I can have God as my “buddy” or “heavenly Father.” I want a life of faith where if God doesn’t come through, I’m sunk.

That’s what I see in Jesus. When we look at Jesus we see plenty of predictability. If he crosses the authorities, they will stop him. If they aim to stop him, they won’t do it gently. They’ll act decisively. If they crucify him, he will die. If he dies, he’ll stay dead. Can’t get much more predictable than that. And yet Jesus went that way. He bet on the sure thing – against himself. And he won.

I want to walk the way of Jesus. No, I don’t want to suffer. I don’t want the world to turn against me. I don’t want to be crucified. But if that’s what it takes to follow the Jesus who said, “If anyone wants to follow me, let him take up his cross and follow me,” then that’s what I want.

May 18, 2010

Learning from North Point, part 9

Filed under: Evangelism,North Point Church,Spirituality,church growth — rheyduck @ 3:01 pm

(Picking up from an old series)

North Point’s fifth “Principle for Effective Ministry” is “Listen to Outsiders.” Pretty strange idea, isn’t it? After all, what can we expect outsiders to know? If we want to know what to do as a church and how to do it, we need to listen to the experts, the people who have been there all their lives.

But North Point has the audacious idea that their primary reason for existence is not to take care of insiders and keep them happy. Rather, their goal is to create environments where outsiders can come to faith in Jesus. They reason that if all their language is purely the language of insiders, the outsiders will not be able to follow along- if they even bother to show up.

By “listen to outsiders” they don’t mean “water down the Gospel to make it easier to swallow.” If they perceive in the culture of those they’re trying to reach a commitment to a vague spirituality (whether what Christian Smith calls “Moral Therapeutic Deism” or some variant of the Americanized Buddhism so common today), they’re not thinking about tossing Jesus out the window. “You know, outsiders really want vagueness. Tolerance is the thing. Different strokes for different folks.” Though some might interpret “listen to outsiders” as entailing a change in basic theological commitments, Andy Stanley and crew have nothing like that in mind.

Of course, that’s part of the problem of focusing so much on methods. While it would be surprising to find a book called 7 Practices of Effective Ministry that didn’t focus on method, methodology is not as neutral as we would like. If we just take the 7 Practices, we could lay them on top of just about any organization, religious or not. North Point, though not officially a Southern Baptist church, comes with the basic theology and ethos of that ecclesial tradition. Adapting their practices in an institution like the United Methodist Church – or in a single United Methodist congregation – would be more difficult because of our tendency to lack a shared doctrinal vision. We have folks in our pews who are convinced that we need to “listen to outsiders” and that doing so would leads us away from our narrowness of talking only about Jesus.

In Good to Great Jim Collins describes how the successful companies he studied were ruthlessly narrow-minded when it came to their core purpose and completely flexible when it came to the methods of fulfilling their purpose. Though I don’t recall Andy Stanley mentioning Collins in reference to this, the contexts certainly match. Our traditional UM churches, however, tend to go the other way around. We are ruthlessly narrow-minded when it comes to our methods (we’re Methodists) and completely flexible when it comes to our core purpose. While we have made some progress of late, I think of our official mission statement – to make disciples of Jesus Christ for the transformation of the world – we still have a way to go when it comes to gaining a shared understanding of what we mean by “disciple.”

Since most of our churches are institutionally conservative, i.e., focused on doing what we’ve always done, and oriented around taking care of our current members, we can learn from North Point. One of the texts Stanley uses in his exposition is Jesus’ story of the shepherd who left the ninety nine sheep to find the one that was lost. Is it possible that in listening to outsiders and making moves to draw them in, make them comfortable enough to stick around and hear the Gospel, that we might lose some insiders who are unhappy we’re no longer catering to them? Sure. In fact, if we consider previous movements that were effective in reaching people (whether we think of Jesus, John Wesley, or others more contemporary), they always did things that made some insider decide to go another direction. If we are truly reaching people for Jesus, we won’t keep everyone. It’ll be hard, since some – if not most – of those who decide to go another way will be people we count as our friends.

North Point calls their evangelism strategy “Invest and Invite.” Ordinary church folks invest in the lives of friends, neighbors, family, and co-workers, and then invite them to one of North Point’s environments. Two things happen through this approach. First, outsiders are exposed to the Gospel – as lived out by church folks, and as articulated in the environments they visit. Second, those who are investing and inviting are sensitized to the questions and culture of their friends who are outsiders. Because they have listened to outsiders they know that churches have to do more than just engage in insider lingo to communicate with them.

One of the downsides of pastoring a traditional church is that I have plenty to keep me busy just spending time with church folks, limiting my exposure to outsiders. One reason I stay plugged in to Facebook is that it is a great way to stay in touch with outsiders. In our community even most of the outsiders I’m around are only outsiders from my congregation, not from the Christian faith. I’m not out to empty all the other churches by bringing their people to my church. In this kind of setting non-professional Christians can be much more effective in listening to outsiders.

I’m sensitive to outsiders on Sunday morning (“Sunday morning worship” is our main environment attended by outsiders). I want them to be able to grasp what we’re doing and saying. But here’s a twist. I also agree with Francis Chan when he says, “Something is wrong when our lives make sense to unbelievers.” So what is it – do we make sense or not? Yes! We need to be clear enough in our communication that people can understand that they don’t understand – that the logic of following Jesus is profoundly different than the logic of the world. We gain the ability to help people clearly fail to understand by listening to them. And this realization of not understanding is a preliminary to true understanding.

May 4, 2010

Avoiding Fame

Filed under: Culture,Spirituality,Worship — rheyduck @ 7:15 pm

Have you read the Miley Cyrus quote in the recent Christianity Today:

“My faith is very important to me. But I don’t necessarily define my faith by going to church every Sunday. Because now when I go to church, I feel like it’s a show.”

Perhaps you’re thinking something like, “Church sure has come a long way in the past generation. In the old days we’d go to church, sit quietly in our pews, listen to the organ music, stand up for the hymns, listen to a sermon, shake some hands, and then go home. Now they have stages, bands, lights and fancy electronics. It’s just a show.” That would certainly be one possible contextualization of the quote. If we want to get young folks like Miley Cyrus in our churches, so we would then reason, we need to get rid of the show, and get back to the basics. We need simple traditional worship, instead of the Show.

But in the original context (thanks to my wife for pointing this out), immediately after the quote, she adds, “There are always cameras outside.” With this addition we see that the Show she’s speaking of is not inside the church, but outside. The problem here (might be elsewhere) is not that worship has become a show, but that her fame and the way fame works in our culture ensure that there is a show wherever she goes in public. If I were the pastor of her church I would see this is a problem also: How do we engage in worship of Jesus  when someone with so much more star power, by our reckoning at least, is in our midst, someone who generates more obvious adoration?

One solution is to stop acting on the fame of the people around us. If we become hardened, apathetic or indifferent to the fame of others, we might find ourselves in a place where we can worship and adore Jesus even if Miley  Cyrus (or President Obama or any other famous people) are present.

That solution, however, won’t be much help to Miley Cyrus, at least not in the short term. Some few folks might succeed in turning from the allure of fame, but surely such a move will be a stretch for the multitudes, especially for those who enjoy it so much. The other solution would be for Miley Cyrus and others to avoid the affliction of fame on their side. Given our way of doing things, sounds pretty unlikely, doesn’t it?

When we consider the benefits of fame – the adoring crowds, the plentiful money – why would anyone want to avoid fame? I can imagine that the Christian, the follower of Jesus, might want to avoid fame so she or he would not be isolated from life in the Body of Christ. If salvation is only going to heaven when we die (or, as some put it, “Pie in the Sky, by and by), then we can get by without the Body of Christ. But when we read the New Testament, we see that life together as worshipers, followers, and lovers of Jesus, able to stand each other because we’ve been reconciled through his blood, is part of  salvation itself. Church – taken as the life of the saints lived together here and now – is part of what the bible means by salvation. Therefore, when we have a fame system, we not only hurt the church by the possible substitution of idols for Jesus, but we also keep people away – or build fences to keep ourselves away.

May 3, 2010

Getting to Philippians 4

Filed under: Jesus,Paul,Spirituality — rheyduck @ 12:54 am

Have you ever noticed what Paul said in Philippians 4? We find him saying things like:

  • Rejoice in the Lord always; Again, I say, rejoice!
  • I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.
  • My God shall supply all your needs through his riches in glory in Christ Jesus.

Sounds pretty good, doesn’t it? Wouldn’t it be nice to be able to say those things in our own lives?

We have a couple of guys in our church who run marathons. I think it would be cool to run a marathon. I think I’ll do it next week. If you knew me, you’d think that’s laughable. Though I exercise each week, I haven’t run much at all in several years. No way I’d be able to run a marathon next week.

My daughter likes to watch medical shows on TV. Pretty cool how they help people with those surgeries. I think I’ll take up surgery next week. I’m sure the unanimous comment is, “Not on me!” Though I’ve done successful surgeries on electronics before, surgery on a living being – at least one that you want to remain living after the surgery – requires years of education and training. No way I could do that next week.

I like music. One of the pieces I’ve liked over the years is Mozart’s Piano Sonata in A. I first heard it years ago, in an arrangement for flute and guitar. I don’t remember who was playing the guitar, but I’m pretty sure Jean Pierre Rampal was playing the flute. No way I could play two instruments, so I’ll just aim to play it on piano next week. Again everyone who knows me laughs. While I can play a couple of songs “one finger” on the piano, and am well enough educated to know that pianos have 88 keys, I’ve never had a piano lesson in my life.

In each of these cases -  running a marathon, doing surgery, or playing beautiful music – discipline is required. In each case I must submit myself to a particular way of life before I will ever make progress. It’s the same way with Paul in Philippians 4. With our cherry picking propensity, we easily identify these verses in Philippians 4 as favorites. We memorize them (maybe), and let them cheer us up. And they can do that. But by ignoring their context, we miss their real power.

If we begin at chapter 1 of Philippians, we find Paul in prison. He doesn’t know whether he’ll live or die. The soldiers could come in at any time and say, “Let’s go Paul, time for your execution.”

Prison? Execution? Not my idea of a “Rejoice in the Lord always” environment. Not a situation in which I’d be thinking, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me. “My God will supply all your needs through his riches in glory in Christ Jesus” would probably not be my first thought. Instead I might be thinking, “Get me out of here God! I’ve served you faithfully all these years, and here I am in jail – and it’s all your fault!”

And yet we see Paul saying things like, “Rejoice in the Lord, always!” What made the difference? It was Jesus. More than that, it was taking up the way of Jesus as the determinative pattern of his life. In Philippians 2 we see Paul looking at Jesus. Jesus did count count equality with God as something to be exploited, but made himself nothing, taking the nature of a servant, humbling himself even to the point of death on a cross.

In Philippians 3 we see that Paul has taken that story of Jesus and made it his own. A Hebrew of Hebrews. Of the tribe of Benjamin. A zealous Pharisee, so serious about his business, so dedicated to the way of God, that he took it upon himself to persecute the church. As to legalistic righteousness, faultless. But he didn’t settle for that. Instead, he counted all that as loss – as rubbish – that he might gain Christ and be found in him. He would depend on Christ’s righteousness, not his own. He sought conformation with Christ – even in his suffering, even in his death – so that he might also be conformed with him in his resurrection.

It was only by taking up the way of Jesus as his own way of life, that Paul was able to become the kind of person who was able to say what he said when he said it. If we want to be able to say, “I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me,” the only way is to become the kind of people who take up the way of Christ as our own.

February 19, 2010

Addiction

Filed under: Spirituality — rheyduck @ 11:48 pm

Since addiction is in the news today, I thought it wouldn’t hurt to implicate myself.

I’ve given up an addiction for Lent. Before I gave it up, I knew it was something I did just about every day. It’s an addiction that didn’t hurt anyone other than me. As far as I know, not only is it not illegal anywhere, it is almost nowhere, these days, even frowned upon. It’s completely harmless. I might even exaggerate a tiny bit and say everyone does it. But I gave it up.

I notice that my thoughts keep turning to this activity. I think through doing it again. But it’s more than my thoughts. My body wants to do it. My hands act like they have minds of their own. They want to do it.

Why not just give in and do it, since it’s harmless? I’m giving it up because it’s a waste of a limited resource – time. But that’s not the whole of it. It’s not always a waste of time – it’s something I can do while doing something else, even some productive things. I can divide my mind and use most of my mind on what is good, needing only a small portion for this harmless activity. At least that’s what I tell myself.

What can I do when I feel the urge, whether in my mind or in my hands? Do I agonize over my little desire? I could. I could play over and over my memories of doing this activity. But there’s another option. When I fast, I use the hunger pangs to remind me to pray, to seek God. I can use these inklings of desire to direct me to God, to seek his mercy, to pray for those in need.

What harmless activity had me in its grip? Something that will put me on the news with the other addicts? I don’t think so. It’s only computer solitaire. Klondike, to be more specific. Completely harmless. Yet completely a waste of time for me. Surely worth quitting for Lent.

January 20, 2010

What Kind?

Filed under: Leadership,Local church,Spirituality,church growth — rheyduck @ 3:45 am

Bishop Will Willimon passes along some good questions from Lloyd John Ogilvie:

  1. What sort of people does Christ want to deploy in the world?
  2. What sort of church do we need to produce those people?
  3. What sort of leaders do we need to produce that sort of church?
  4. What sort of pastor do I need to be to produce that sort of leaders in that sort of church?

First, I like the teleological approach. We’re going somewhere. We have ends in sight.

Second, these are complex ends. My telos as a pastor doesn’t end with me. It is connected with the teloi of leaders, the church and its people.

Third, I can ask these questions wherever I am in relation to those ends, wherever I am situated in time and space (as long as I ecclesially located). When I first become a pastor of a given church, I can ask these questions. When I’ve been at a church for X years, I can still ask these questions. They will never be outmoded.

Fourth, my asking these questions is not a solo activity. While I have some insight into what kind of pastor I need to be to to produce a particular kind of leader to produce a particular kind of church that produces a particular kind of people, so do the people around me. I am not sitting at the top of the heap commanding all around me.

Fifth, and this aspect appeals to my personality type, these are general questions. They are not tied to any particular church model or program structure. As people questions, they are framed to prioritize people over structures, opening the way to flexibility in methodology.

Finally, the questions begin and end with Jesus. We pursue what Jesus wants. We want to achieve his purposes his way. What will it take to make us those kind of people?

January 2, 2010

Perfection avoided

Filed under: Spirituality — rheyduck @ 9:05 pm

Have you ever noticed easily some instances of the Perfect are shattered? Since it’s already January second, it’s already too late for me to have a record of blogging everyday of the year. I can blog for the next 365 consecutive days, but since I didn’t blog yesterday, it’s impossible for me to blog every day.

Several years ago Cal Ripken beat Lou Gehrig for consecutive games played. That was a tough record to beat. Playing that many consecutive games requires sustained health, enough ability that the manager would want to play you, a desire to keep playing through thick and thin. Most players just don’t make it. All Ripken had to do to end his pursuit of the record was miss a game. A single game would do it, would make his quest for naught.

From another angle, Ripken’s record isn’t all that stupendous. Sure, it’ll be hard to break, but it is breakable. Another player can exercise the same desire and stamina. And how many World Series did Ripken bring to Baltimore during his run? Another record, one that won’t be broken (unless the game is redefined) is Cy Young’s 511 victories. Now the really good guys rack up 300 in a career. 500? I just don’t see it. But his record isn’t perfect. Not only does he have the record for wins. He also has the record for losses.

What kind of perfection are we looking for – if we are? I’d suggest that we aim for something that takes the best of Ripken & Young. From Ripken, we take the stamina, the ability to keep going, even when each day is essentially the same. Staying faithful without the glitz and glory is a good thing. From Young, we take the ability not just to win, but to get up and play again after losing. Younger never seems to have thought that yesterday’s loss was a harbinger of a loss today. Even though he had failed, he still thought winning was possible.

Chances are that we’ll fail God. We’ll mess up. We’ll fall short. Oh, maybe it won’t be the big notorious sin, the sin that torpedoes our life. Maybe it’ll just be a case of chickening out, of avoiding an opportunity God has sent out way. Oops. Not perfect. So why even try? But when we see the bigger picture of who God is and what he’s up to in Jesus, it’s always worth our while to get up and try again, to aim again for faithfulness.

October 15, 2009

Asking Questions

Filed under: Discipleship,Spirituality — rheyduck @ 6:58 pm

From ancient times, theologians have had a motto, “Faith seeking understanding.” As followers of Jesus we don’t start from doubt or from skepticism. We don’t even start from a position of knowing nothing, from a blank slate. We start from faith. Our faith may be at its beginning stages, it may be mature, it may be hard-won, it may be bursting at the seams. But we start from faith. Starting form that position, we then seek to understand that which we believe. Sometimes the understanding comes easily and quickly. Sometimes it takes a long time to gain some understanding, and we’re left with more that we don’t understand. We take more on faith than we can explain. When we see things way, questioning is an expression of faith (as it seeks understanding), not a challenge to it.

In saying this about questioning, I don’t think I’m saying the same thing as some who speak up for doubt as a Christian virtue. Doubts, like questions, are not best dealt with through a strategy of repression. Doubts can lead to questions. Sometimes, however, doubts are merely allowed to lie there. Faith is our starting point. Understanding is our ending point. Seeking is the work of exploration and questioning that leads from the one to the other.

There are some aspects of our faith that we do simply take “on faith.” A doubt or set of doubts might arise, calling attention to one of these aspects we had never closely considered before. (Doubt is by no means the only instrument that calls attention to our assumptions. Other instigators of questioning can be love, joy, and simple curiosity.) In this role doubt is not a fusillade of questions to bring down the edifice of faith, though if doubt is unaccompanied by a desire to understand and an underlying trust in God, it might do just that. Rather, doubt says, “Consider this. It doesn’t seem to fit. We need to look more closely.”

The overcoming of doubts would be the arrival at a state where one could say, “I have considered this issue and explored it to a degree that I have reached satisfactory understanding.” What counts as a “satisfactory understanding” is relative to where we stand in our faith and where the particular issue sits in relation to our faith. If it is a marginal issue, a satisfactory understanding can be still attended by many doubts and continuing questions. The solidity of our faith lies elsewhere. If, however, the issue is of greater weight or more central to our faith, the substantial that satisfactory understanding will need to be.

Some questions we ask are our own, some come from outside us. Some of those that come from outside us do not originate in faith – or at least in anything we recognize as faith. They come to us, to where we stand, as challenges, as provocations to doubt. Sometimes we are in a place where we can help people with these questions. Sometimes we aren’t. When we aren’t it is still of value to be able to direct people toward sources where they might explore their questions (or to put it in a more philosophical way, to question their questions).

I hear too many stories of young people today – or people who were young recently, who tried to ask questions – questions generated by their faith and its interaction with the world and life – who felt discouragement from the church. They (for the most part) find themselves unable to bury or forget their questions. So they choose the alternative – burying or forgetting their faith. I major part of my calling in life is to help people deal with questions. Since I had had so many throughout my life, I am relatively comfortable with other people asking questions. It breaks my heart to see the church losing younger generations – for this or any reason. Part of my calling is to turn this around. For that very reason I encourage people to ask questions and invite them to join me on my own journey of exploration.

September 17, 2009

Letter to a Pilgrim

Filed under: Spirituality — rheyduck @ 9:11 pm


One of the phrases I’ve heard all my life is “If you want it done right, do it yourself.” I’ve seen the truth of it in much of my life. What amazes me is that God doesn’t think that way.

Rather than doing everything he wants done, God invites us to join in what he’s doing. That’s the third step of grace offered to us that I see in Ephesians. The first step is what we usually call “salvation by grace.” We see that in Eph. 2:8-9. We’re not saved by our resume, our pedigree or anything we do. All of salvation is by the grace of God offered in Jesus. It’s great news. But too often we stop there.

The second step of grace is in the second half of Eph. 2. We see there that the salvation offered in Christ is more than just a matter of individuals getting right with God. In addition to reconciling us with God, Jesus breaks down the wall between Gentile and Jew, or in more general terms, the walls that exist between people because of sin. Jesus came not only so that I could spend eternity with him, but so that we together could be his people now and forever. If we miss out on the loving fellowship and unity of the church, we miss out on the fulness of salvation in Jesus.

But there is a third step, found in Eph. 3. There we hear Paul say, “This grace was given me, to preach the unsearchable riches of Christ to the Gentiles.” Grace not only brings me into a healed relationship with God and a healed relationship with others, it also draws me (us) into God’s continuing activity. If I say, “Nah, that’s only for preachers and ‘full time Christian workers,’” I again miss out on the fulness of salvation found in Jesus.

You’ve had a big weekend. You’ve experienced God grace – perhaps in new ways or in refreshed old ways. Perhaps you’ve felt God’s claim on your life, saying something to you like, “Your my child, bought with the blood of my Son, mine for eternity.” That same Jesus also says, “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you.”

Scary? Maybe. But it’s not an issue of “Ok, you’re saved, now here’s your work assignment, hop to it. Report in when you’re done.” No, in the same context where Jesus says, “As the Father has sent me, so I am sending you” he also says, “Receive the Holy Spirit.” There is no way to live the Christian life on our own. We need the Holy Spirit living within us.

We also need each other. Jesus doesn’t send us out as lone rangers, individuals out among the wolves. He sends us out together. As you follow Jesus, you’re never in it alone. Jesus says, “I will be with you to the very end of the age.” And he says that to the people around us as we travel together in his way.

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