I remember vividly conversations held time and again while I was in college, seminary, and then amongst colleagues. Well, perhaps I shouldn't sound like my memory is infallible for I do not remember vividly the details of said conversations, but I do remember a theme which has been prevalent--especially with those who believe Christians should work to influence the political process and seek laws which are in accord with biblical theology:
We must speak truth to power!
In my particular denomination, this phrase connotes a strong prophetic theme. Just as the prophets confronted the rulers of Israel and Judah for their injustices, we too must be prophetic. We too must convince our rulers to seek justice: to care for the widow, the orphan, and the needy.
My schooling was heavily influenced by liberation theologians of one flavor or another, and this theme ran prevalent in all of them as well. Those in power must be confronted. We must speak truth to power!
The Church indeed must wrestle with a very important question: how are we to live together? Many argue that this is the nature of politics. How do we live and move and work with one another. This is a question that the Church must enter into regularly as we engage Christians, non-Christians, religious and secular. We are not isolated from our surrounding communities, and ethics always plays a role in the midst of our daily lives.
Yet, how do we engage the powers of our day? How do we engage the leaders in our respective cities, states, and nations? (Obvious American bias right there.)
One of the most interesting things, at least to me, regarding Christianity is how it has managed to thrive under just about every type of government imposed by humanity. It has survived monarchies, democracy, communism, socialism, and everything in between. No government has been able to squash it fully--although some have managed to repress it severely.
Sometimes, Christians have the privilege of engaging governmental powers without fear of reprisal. Sometimes engaging governmental powers is a life or death matter. It depends upon which type of government you engage.
Which leads us to the point where we must ask: how should we engage our government? How should we seek to influence the political process? How should we "speak truth to power?"
For I think the phrase is well worth using, but perhaps in a not so conventional way.
Len Sweet at the Theological Conference I attended a few weeks ago nailed the group with a question. It was a question yours truly has wrestled with previously and made an argument for. "When you hear the word Truth, what picture do you get in your head?" Sweet asked.
In my head, I saw Jesus. "I am the way and the truth and the life," He said.
Sweet followed up, "For we believe truth is not a concept but a person."
A definite point of agreement here.
Truth indeed, for the Christian, is not a concept but a person. I think we tend to forget this when we seek to influence the writing of legislation. We tend to focus on getting certain laws passed thinking that in so doing we are proclaiming the truth. We are not. Laws do not proclaim Jesus.
Interestingly enough, Scripture provides a fascinating look into the early Church and its engagement with the powers that be. I encourage readers to take a look at Acts 24 and following.
Notice how Paul handles himself as he comes before the powers that be of his day. See what he is trying to accomplish. Pay particular attention to Agrippa's statement in Acts 26:
Agrippa said to Paul, ‘Are you so quickly persuading me to become a Christian?’
Paul replied, ‘Whether quickly or not, I pray to God that not only you
but also all who are listening to me today might become such as I
am—except for these chains.’
Speaking the Truth to power.
Speaking Jesus to power.
That all may become as we are.
I have to wonder about my denomination's "advocacy" office in Washington, D.C. Are they operating like St. Paul or like the prophets? Are they speaking the truth to power or speaking The Truth to power?
One of these things is not like the other.
Showing posts with label conversion. Show all posts
Showing posts with label conversion. Show all posts
Thursday, February 12, 2015
Thursday, May 1, 2014
The Conversion of a Pastor
A reader asked something very pertinent and poignant:
I've read with great curiosity about your "conversion" and was wondering if there is/are post(s) from that time that I may read. I struggle with the same issues that your congregant Mark dealt with and I read your sermon from his funeral and it was great. I was just hoping to read what you were writing at the time he gave you that book that lead to your "conversion"...really a fuller understanding of the Gospel, I'd say.
I think one would have to read through the entirety of this blog in order to grasp what I was writing at the time this conversion process started, but one would also have to know the underlying processes which was at work as well. In this post, I hope to lay some of that out so that you can see just what was going on inside my heart at the time. Be forewarned, I personally don't think it was pretty. In fact, it was rather petty. At the time, I never saw what I was doing and what my motivations were. I know now, and I have a sense of shame regarding them. But none-the-less, I will put the chips out there and let them fall where they may.
As I stated in my Easter Sermon to my congregation, I was filled with dreams as a pastor--big dreams. I wanted to be the pastor of a congregation that grew and grew and grew. I wanted the place to worship thousands on a Sunday and have thousands of members. I wanted that congregation to buck the trend of decline experienced by denominations in the U.S., and then I wanted folks to beat down my door asking, "How did you do it?" I wanted to be able to share my expertise and be important in the eyes of the church. I wanted fame and notoriety. To an extent, these things still reside within me as a shadow. I am not sure I will ever get rid of them.
Of course, in order to have these dreams come to fruition, I needed a congregation to cooperate. I needed others to cooperate with me and make this stuff happen. I would work like the dickens to see it accomplished, but I needed others to work like the dickens as well. I never realized how self-centered this approach was because, as I see it now, I was using Jesus as a means to an end and I was using a congregation and its people as a means to an end. The only humility I had within me was a false humility to make people think I wasn't using them. (Again, I never saw it this way at the time. I never thought I was using anyone. I thought I was doing God's work and simply preaching the Gospel.)
I considered my first congregation a learning experience as I served as an associate pastor, but coming to my current congregation was a chance to really do things my way. I jumped in with both feet and hit the ground running.
And things went wonderfully! The congregation grew by leaps and bounds! People were excited about doing things! People were filling the pews! And I was thrilled! My dreams seemed like they were well on their way to coming true. We were drawing all sorts of people to the church--some who were disgruntled with other congregations; others who had stopped worshiping long ago but were returning; young families with children. I was happy, happy, happy.
But then things began to stop. Perhaps there were many factors, including making the transition from a "pastoral" sized congregation to a "program" sized congregation, but there was one in particular that I can point to that filled me with fear.
The national church in 2009 made the decision to ordain practicing homosexuals. There were a few members who were absolutely against this decision. There were others who favored it. There were many who were not happy but wouldn't cause a fuss--they would just stop giving. There were others who really didn't care at all. It was a no win situation as far as I was concerned. The national church assembly had just thrown a monkey wrench into my plans.
And so I tried to fix it.
I did. I tried to come up with a solution that wouldn't necessarily satisfy everyone, but it would be enough to keep the congregation on the right track to growth. My dreams wouldn't be derailed! Or so I thought.
The "fix" didn't work. We still lost members. A different sort of "spirit" seemed to surround the congregation.
And so I went to work. I tried to get the church focused on other things. You know what all the pundits say, right? Keep an organization focused on a project. Keep them focused on doing good things! That will bring folks around and keep them coming to your organization. Yep, I bought it. Onto trying such events. The first of which was the Kan You Kover 100K?--one of the reasons I actually kicked off this blog. These things will work, right? No luck.
Little did I know that burnout was fast creeping upon me. I had thrown myself into trying to save my dream, and it was taking its toll.
It was around this time that I was given the book A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Tackle Life's Biggest Questions. Looking back now, it was a blessing and a curse at the time. Ultimately, it was a blessing, but to begin with it fed another part of my ego.
You see, I suffered from, and still to an extent suffer from, a tremendous desire to be right. I want to have the right thoughts, subscribe to the right doctrine, do the right things, and so on and so forth. I wanted to think that I was intellectually superior to others, and I wanted to think I was morally superior to others as well. I would have never, ever admitted this before. False humility.
The authors presented in this book offered me a train of Christian apologetics that I had not been exposed to in my days of college and seminary. After having been exposed to "Christian fundamentalism" in my youth, college and seminary presented me with the exact opposite end of the spectrum. Neither of these two paths seemed intellectually satisfying in my estimation. Both seemed to have severe inconsistencies. The train of thought presented by the book seemed to have fewer inconsistencies and have a better progression of logic. Therefore, I became hooked.
I read and read and read. I ordered other books by those who had chapters in the book. I absorbed their thoughts thinking I had found the "right" path. I now had the answers! I knew what would save my dream!
Discipleship! I had to be a better disciple. I had to make my congregation be better disciples!
I embraced another form of legalism, and burnout loomed large.
Yeah. Long story short, I failed at that discipleship thing. I just couldn't be a great disciple, and I couldn't make others be disciples either. Looking back at many of my sermons from those days, I was so concerned about what we were supposed to be doing! Do this. Do that. Give here. Be loving. Be kind. Produce the fruits of the Spirit. I was also consumed with believing the right things. This is the proper belief. This is the proper doctrine to grasp. If we all just believed this, things would turn, and we would stop this plateau and grow once again.
What I failed to realize is that these sort of things don't happen unless a heart has been transformed by the Gospel--the realization that our salvation is from the Lord; that our self-worth is from the Lord; that we do not strive for worldly status and praise--"I haven't accomplished much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on very good terms."
I've written a couple of times about that statement of my grandfather's. I wrote about it this past Easter along with Timothy Keller's speech about doing evangelism in a postmodern world. Both of these events were instrumental in bringing me through that final lap of conversion. Honestly, I had to fail before this could happen. I had to burn out. I had to realize my failing and frailty. I had to realize my own brokenness and inability to grow a church. I had to realize that I was using Jesus as a means to an end and not as an end in and of Himself. I had to die to all of that. I had to be humbled.
It wasn't pleasant, but there is now something different within me. There is peace. There is joy. I'm not trying to treat my congregation as a means to an end. I don't get angry or frustrated with others when they make decisions which are not in line with having Jesus at the center of their lives. Hey, I spend a long time doing the same thing, and if I am honest with myself, there are times when I still do such things. I know Jesus is still working on me. I know Jesus will work on them. I simply need to proclaim the gospel.
And that gospel is rather mucked up these days by the church. I mean, most of the time we spend talking about what we should do. We consume ourselves with the transformation of society or hammer folks with ideology. We focus on a lot of shoulds. Shoulds are important, no doubt, but you cannot talk should in the church until you talk redemption. You cannot talk about living the Christian life until hearts have been turned toward God. Only after folks become converted to the Christian faith can we begin trying to wrestle with how we are supposed to live it out.
Too often, in the church, we make the assumption that folks hearts are already tuned in. We make the assumption that they have already been changed by the gospel. I think making that assumption is deadly.
I think making that assumption has caused many of our congregations to either become "liberal" or "conservative". We embrace a particular ethic or social stance or ideology to become acceptable to those outside; then, those folks will want to become a part of us because our ideology matches as well as the things we do. In my estimation, this has transformed many churches into clubs.
I once asked members of one particular congregation what made their church different from any other social organization.
It was quite awkward for a few moments.
What distinguishes the Church of Christ from any other organization is its focus on the Gospel of Jesus Christ--God's reconciling the world unto Himself through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is the power of the Gospel to change lives--to bring a sense of lasting peace, joy, and fulfillment which makes us different.
Our salvation; the world's salvation is of the Lord! It's of the Lord! Our self-worth; our status; our identity comes from the Lord! It's of the Lord! I don't have to go around proving myself. I don't have to be important in the eyes of anyone or any institution. I don't have to have a congregation grow in order to be happy or fulfilled. I simply need Jesus.
I somewhat understood that with my head, but it hadn't sunk deep within. It didn't govern my heart. I think it does now. I still struggle. I still find myself becoming a little disappointed when worship attendance isn't where I think it should be. I still get a little upset when people tell me they are coming to worship and then don't. I still find myself wanting to be right about all kinds of things; but these things no longer dominate. These things are no longer my ultimate pursuits.
I've changed.
Maybe you seek that kind of change too.
Maybe you are tired of getting your worth from all sorts of things.
Maybe you are stressed out; burned out; unhappy; unfulfilled.
Take a deep breath and examine whether or not Christ is at the center of your life.
Examine whether or not you are pursuing Him or other things. (This may be extremely difficult; as I noted earlier, I wasn't aware of what I was doing.)
Perhaps you will have a moment of clarity.
Perhaps not. Be patient. Wait. Seek. Ask God for it. (Read my next sermon for some insight into how this process may look as it plays out.)
But don't go around thinking you can continue to do all the same things.
Don't think that you can continue to pursue the things you are pursuing now.
Change will have to happen.
It will be painful. I am sorry to say that as we tend to avoid painful things, but it is necessary.
But once broken through, when Christ orients your heart toward Him, things change
And for the better.
The Truth--Jesus--sets you free.
I've read with great curiosity about your "conversion" and was wondering if there is/are post(s) from that time that I may read. I struggle with the same issues that your congregant Mark dealt with and I read your sermon from his funeral and it was great. I was just hoping to read what you were writing at the time he gave you that book that lead to your "conversion"...really a fuller understanding of the Gospel, I'd say.
I think one would have to read through the entirety of this blog in order to grasp what I was writing at the time this conversion process started, but one would also have to know the underlying processes which was at work as well. In this post, I hope to lay some of that out so that you can see just what was going on inside my heart at the time. Be forewarned, I personally don't think it was pretty. In fact, it was rather petty. At the time, I never saw what I was doing and what my motivations were. I know now, and I have a sense of shame regarding them. But none-the-less, I will put the chips out there and let them fall where they may.
As I stated in my Easter Sermon to my congregation, I was filled with dreams as a pastor--big dreams. I wanted to be the pastor of a congregation that grew and grew and grew. I wanted the place to worship thousands on a Sunday and have thousands of members. I wanted that congregation to buck the trend of decline experienced by denominations in the U.S., and then I wanted folks to beat down my door asking, "How did you do it?" I wanted to be able to share my expertise and be important in the eyes of the church. I wanted fame and notoriety. To an extent, these things still reside within me as a shadow. I am not sure I will ever get rid of them.
Of course, in order to have these dreams come to fruition, I needed a congregation to cooperate. I needed others to cooperate with me and make this stuff happen. I would work like the dickens to see it accomplished, but I needed others to work like the dickens as well. I never realized how self-centered this approach was because, as I see it now, I was using Jesus as a means to an end and I was using a congregation and its people as a means to an end. The only humility I had within me was a false humility to make people think I wasn't using them. (Again, I never saw it this way at the time. I never thought I was using anyone. I thought I was doing God's work and simply preaching the Gospel.)
I considered my first congregation a learning experience as I served as an associate pastor, but coming to my current congregation was a chance to really do things my way. I jumped in with both feet and hit the ground running.
And things went wonderfully! The congregation grew by leaps and bounds! People were excited about doing things! People were filling the pews! And I was thrilled! My dreams seemed like they were well on their way to coming true. We were drawing all sorts of people to the church--some who were disgruntled with other congregations; others who had stopped worshiping long ago but were returning; young families with children. I was happy, happy, happy.
But then things began to stop. Perhaps there were many factors, including making the transition from a "pastoral" sized congregation to a "program" sized congregation, but there was one in particular that I can point to that filled me with fear.
The national church in 2009 made the decision to ordain practicing homosexuals. There were a few members who were absolutely against this decision. There were others who favored it. There were many who were not happy but wouldn't cause a fuss--they would just stop giving. There were others who really didn't care at all. It was a no win situation as far as I was concerned. The national church assembly had just thrown a monkey wrench into my plans.
And so I tried to fix it.
I did. I tried to come up with a solution that wouldn't necessarily satisfy everyone, but it would be enough to keep the congregation on the right track to growth. My dreams wouldn't be derailed! Or so I thought.
The "fix" didn't work. We still lost members. A different sort of "spirit" seemed to surround the congregation.
And so I went to work. I tried to get the church focused on other things. You know what all the pundits say, right? Keep an organization focused on a project. Keep them focused on doing good things! That will bring folks around and keep them coming to your organization. Yep, I bought it. Onto trying such events. The first of which was the Kan You Kover 100K?--one of the reasons I actually kicked off this blog. These things will work, right? No luck.
Little did I know that burnout was fast creeping upon me. I had thrown myself into trying to save my dream, and it was taking its toll.
It was around this time that I was given the book A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Tackle Life's Biggest Questions. Looking back now, it was a blessing and a curse at the time. Ultimately, it was a blessing, but to begin with it fed another part of my ego.
You see, I suffered from, and still to an extent suffer from, a tremendous desire to be right. I want to have the right thoughts, subscribe to the right doctrine, do the right things, and so on and so forth. I wanted to think that I was intellectually superior to others, and I wanted to think I was morally superior to others as well. I would have never, ever admitted this before. False humility.
The authors presented in this book offered me a train of Christian apologetics that I had not been exposed to in my days of college and seminary. After having been exposed to "Christian fundamentalism" in my youth, college and seminary presented me with the exact opposite end of the spectrum. Neither of these two paths seemed intellectually satisfying in my estimation. Both seemed to have severe inconsistencies. The train of thought presented by the book seemed to have fewer inconsistencies and have a better progression of logic. Therefore, I became hooked.
I read and read and read. I ordered other books by those who had chapters in the book. I absorbed their thoughts thinking I had found the "right" path. I now had the answers! I knew what would save my dream!
Discipleship! I had to be a better disciple. I had to make my congregation be better disciples!
I embraced another form of legalism, and burnout loomed large.
Yeah. Long story short, I failed at that discipleship thing. I just couldn't be a great disciple, and I couldn't make others be disciples either. Looking back at many of my sermons from those days, I was so concerned about what we were supposed to be doing! Do this. Do that. Give here. Be loving. Be kind. Produce the fruits of the Spirit. I was also consumed with believing the right things. This is the proper belief. This is the proper doctrine to grasp. If we all just believed this, things would turn, and we would stop this plateau and grow once again.
What I failed to realize is that these sort of things don't happen unless a heart has been transformed by the Gospel--the realization that our salvation is from the Lord; that our self-worth is from the Lord; that we do not strive for worldly status and praise--"I haven't accomplished much in the eyes of the world, but the Lord and I are on very good terms."
I've written a couple of times about that statement of my grandfather's. I wrote about it this past Easter along with Timothy Keller's speech about doing evangelism in a postmodern world. Both of these events were instrumental in bringing me through that final lap of conversion. Honestly, I had to fail before this could happen. I had to burn out. I had to realize my failing and frailty. I had to realize my own brokenness and inability to grow a church. I had to realize that I was using Jesus as a means to an end and not as an end in and of Himself. I had to die to all of that. I had to be humbled.
It wasn't pleasant, but there is now something different within me. There is peace. There is joy. I'm not trying to treat my congregation as a means to an end. I don't get angry or frustrated with others when they make decisions which are not in line with having Jesus at the center of their lives. Hey, I spend a long time doing the same thing, and if I am honest with myself, there are times when I still do such things. I know Jesus is still working on me. I know Jesus will work on them. I simply need to proclaim the gospel.
And that gospel is rather mucked up these days by the church. I mean, most of the time we spend talking about what we should do. We consume ourselves with the transformation of society or hammer folks with ideology. We focus on a lot of shoulds. Shoulds are important, no doubt, but you cannot talk should in the church until you talk redemption. You cannot talk about living the Christian life until hearts have been turned toward God. Only after folks become converted to the Christian faith can we begin trying to wrestle with how we are supposed to live it out.
Too often, in the church, we make the assumption that folks hearts are already tuned in. We make the assumption that they have already been changed by the gospel. I think making that assumption is deadly.
I think making that assumption has caused many of our congregations to either become "liberal" or "conservative". We embrace a particular ethic or social stance or ideology to become acceptable to those outside; then, those folks will want to become a part of us because our ideology matches as well as the things we do. In my estimation, this has transformed many churches into clubs.
I once asked members of one particular congregation what made their church different from any other social organization.
It was quite awkward for a few moments.
What distinguishes the Church of Christ from any other organization is its focus on the Gospel of Jesus Christ--God's reconciling the world unto Himself through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus. It is the power of the Gospel to change lives--to bring a sense of lasting peace, joy, and fulfillment which makes us different.
Our salvation; the world's salvation is of the Lord! It's of the Lord! Our self-worth; our status; our identity comes from the Lord! It's of the Lord! I don't have to go around proving myself. I don't have to be important in the eyes of anyone or any institution. I don't have to have a congregation grow in order to be happy or fulfilled. I simply need Jesus.
I somewhat understood that with my head, but it hadn't sunk deep within. It didn't govern my heart. I think it does now. I still struggle. I still find myself becoming a little disappointed when worship attendance isn't where I think it should be. I still get a little upset when people tell me they are coming to worship and then don't. I still find myself wanting to be right about all kinds of things; but these things no longer dominate. These things are no longer my ultimate pursuits.
I've changed.
Maybe you seek that kind of change too.
Maybe you are tired of getting your worth from all sorts of things.
Maybe you are stressed out; burned out; unhappy; unfulfilled.
Take a deep breath and examine whether or not Christ is at the center of your life.
Examine whether or not you are pursuing Him or other things. (This may be extremely difficult; as I noted earlier, I wasn't aware of what I was doing.)
Perhaps you will have a moment of clarity.
Perhaps not. Be patient. Wait. Seek. Ask God for it. (Read my next sermon for some insight into how this process may look as it plays out.)
But don't go around thinking you can continue to do all the same things.
Don't think that you can continue to pursue the things you are pursuing now.
Change will have to happen.
It will be painful. I am sorry to say that as we tend to avoid painful things, but it is necessary.
But once broken through, when Christ orients your heart toward Him, things change
And for the better.
The Truth--Jesus--sets you free.
Tuesday, April 22, 2014
Funeral Sermon for Mark Chapman
Grace to you and peace from God the Father and from our risen Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Amen.
I could spend a lot of time this afternoon extolling Mark’s virtues. His list of accomplishments are many. Successful business man. World traveler. Philanthropist. Loyal alum and supporter of his alma mater. Faithful husband. Artist. Thinker. Poet. I could fill up this entire sermon talking about such things–easily. But it is not a pastor’s job to simply lift up the virtues of a man who has died. It is the job of a pastor to bring a word from God into the midst of human situations–a word which comforts those who grieve and gives insight into how God’s love effects our lives.
And now, with that being said, I would like to turn to Mark’s own words to begin that process of perhaps hearing what God would tell us this day as we celebrate Mark’s life. In his book An Artist Writes, there is an interesting little poem entitled “Dis-satisfaction.” It reads:
Take a look–I’ve got it all
A great wife, health
Bank account that’s not small
Yet what is that sporadic, niggling burr
that nestles underneath my saddle?
Is it the ebbing of the physical
or a flaw in my gear box?
Maybe nature’s perverse trick to ruffle my feathers
Or one last long squall before the water calms.
I wrestle with this wisp of unease
It pins me more than not
A twinge of craziness asks
Am I a gerbil on a treadmill?
A captive in a cosmic joke?
A malcontent without a cause?
Is my chain being yanked because I care?
Maybe it is a plague of self absorption?
Blind faith would–could–be a lifeline
But for whatever reason no solace there.
Is the question unanswerable?
A maddening changing of the guard
Truth unacceptable
An accelerating slide down a slope
To a place I don’t want to go.
It’s a challenging poem because I think it raises one of those items of truth that hits many of us where we live. We may seem to have it all, according to worldly standards, but within there is still discontent. There is still something that makes us uneasy. There is something which makes us dissatisfied with life and the way things are going. Mark felt it, and he was seeking an answer to the problem. Blind faith could have given him consolation, but it wasn’t enough. There was no turning off his brain and simply accepting things. Mark had to question. He had to ask. He had to delve deep.
And he roped me into this quest–and for that, I will be forever grateful.
Several years ago, Mark handed me a book at church. It was entitled, A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Explore Life’s Hardest Questions. Mark struggled with the book. He wanted to talk about many of the things written in its pages. Little did he know, he was contributing to his pastor’s conversion.
Yes, you heard that correctly. Mark’s gesture of seeking started me on a journey of conversion, and it is not too often that a pastor can stand before a congregation and say such a thing. But never-the-less, I can assure you, it is true. For the book Mark handed me caused me to delve deep, deep within the Christian faith. It caused me to examine myself–my core beliefs and convictions. It confronted me with the truth. Far from a blind faith, it helped me see something tremendously important; something I had managed to give consent to with my head but fail to grasp within the depths of my being. You may be having two thoughts at this moment: #1. What was that thing? And #2. Isn’t this gathering supposed to focused on Mark?
The answer to number one is forthcoming. The answer to number two is, of course, and I’m coming right back there. Because that thing is an answer to some of the things Mark was wrestling with deeply–not only in his poem “Dis-satisfaction” but another poem which I would like to read to you now. This one is entitled “Guilt for Less”:
Once I threw a Canadian coin
into a Salvation Army bucket–clunk
Another time I fell far short of loving my neighbor as myself
After each incident I felt bad
A moral misfit
That I might be the guest at a very hot bar-b-que
No question of immutable truths when I was young–
My brain washed
The conscience, gate keeper, or party pooper
let me know when I’d been bad
Numerous immutable pitfalls await.
The moral electric fence restraining our base instincts
Occasionally we slip under the wire
only to be Tasered by guilt
we come scuttling back seeking forgiveness
How do we escape this scourge?
Heaven’s answer, at least on Sunday morning
Bountiful succor if you prostrate yourself
give up sin forever or at least until next time
a nagging conscience demands that promise
A bar so high, failure foregone
Humanness guarantees a repeat performance
Has this niggling failure diminished us?
Deflated egos: unquestioning sinners in waiting
No one escapes the wide net
Even the sanctimonious one in the front row
You’re guilty of–pride
Wretches all–give it up
The drill: sin–seek forgiveness–absolution–repeat
Seamless–better than a six pack
Strangely, I feel guilty for writing this
How do we escape this scourge? How do we escape guilt? How do we escape this cycle of sin, seek forgiveness, receive absolution, and repeat? This poem reminded me of another author who once wrote about the same sort of thing. St. Paul lifted up this in the letter of Romans so long ago. Addressing the human condition, Paul said much the same thing as Mark–just using different words:
18For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? (Romans 7:18-24)
Hear Paul’s final question again. Notice the words Paul uses. Who will rescue me from this body of death? Who will rescue me from this cycle of sin? He does not use the word what. It’s not what will save me? It’s who will save me. Mark hit upon how we normally address things in the church. We focus on the what: attend church; ask for forgiveness; try not to sin; fail; repeat. That’s the what. But the what doesn’t save us. It’s the who that does.
“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Paul exclaims. Thanks be to Jesus, for it is He who offers us the answer.
It took me a while, but the process that Mark started with giving me that book found its endpoint in Jesus. It found its endpoint in the heart-felt realization that it is Christ alone who saves. Christ alone. Not our effort. Not our actions. Not our coming to church. Not our asking for forgiveness. Sin is a given. I am a failure, but Jesus died for me anyway. Jesus loved me anyway. Jesus redeems me anyway. Just as Jesus died for you, loves you, and redeems you. Just as Jesus died for Mark, loves Mark, and redeems Mark. If we can pull off our own salvation, we have a reason to feel haughty. We have a reason to feel superior. We have a reason to feel guilty because we should be capable of doing and being better. But, if salvation is only from Jesus–if salvation is only by the grace of God, we are humbled knowing that we are no better than anyone else. We are humbled knowing that despite our sinfulness God loves us tremendously. And we don’t have to feel dissatisfied any longer. There is nothing we have to accomplish to prove our worth. There is nothing we have to accomplish to make ourselves better in the eyes of the world. Christ has done all for us, and He becomes our All in All.
This realization; this conversion within me has deeply affected my teaching and preaching. It has deeply affected the way I view my role as a pastor. And a few have noticed. Mark noticed. The week before he suffered his first stroke, Mark said the following as I took prayer requests from the congregation, “I pray that we come to understand the theology you are preaching.”
I pray that prayer often. That we may understand our salvation is from the Lord. For that is the most important thing. Mark is experiencing that salvation right now. He is with God basking in eternal glory. The promised hope of the resurrection is fulfilled. That hope is also extended to you and to me–not only for when we die, but for our lives right here and now. When Christ becomes the center of our lives and orients our hearts toward Him, we live in that hope daily. We know our worth comes from God and that we will go to God. We know peace of heart and mind. And on days like these, we know there is no saying “Goodby.” There is an acknowledgment that death is not a period. It is a comma, and one day we will join Mark at God’s side. Amen.
I could spend a lot of time this afternoon extolling Mark’s virtues. His list of accomplishments are many. Successful business man. World traveler. Philanthropist. Loyal alum and supporter of his alma mater. Faithful husband. Artist. Thinker. Poet. I could fill up this entire sermon talking about such things–easily. But it is not a pastor’s job to simply lift up the virtues of a man who has died. It is the job of a pastor to bring a word from God into the midst of human situations–a word which comforts those who grieve and gives insight into how God’s love effects our lives.
And now, with that being said, I would like to turn to Mark’s own words to begin that process of perhaps hearing what God would tell us this day as we celebrate Mark’s life. In his book An Artist Writes, there is an interesting little poem entitled “Dis-satisfaction.” It reads:
Take a look–I’ve got it all
A great wife, health
Bank account that’s not small
Yet what is that sporadic, niggling burr
that nestles underneath my saddle?
Is it the ebbing of the physical
or a flaw in my gear box?
Maybe nature’s perverse trick to ruffle my feathers
Or one last long squall before the water calms.
I wrestle with this wisp of unease
It pins me more than not
A twinge of craziness asks
Am I a gerbil on a treadmill?
A captive in a cosmic joke?
A malcontent without a cause?
Is my chain being yanked because I care?
Maybe it is a plague of self absorption?
Blind faith would–could–be a lifeline
But for whatever reason no solace there.
Is the question unanswerable?
A maddening changing of the guard
Truth unacceptable
An accelerating slide down a slope
To a place I don’t want to go.
It’s a challenging poem because I think it raises one of those items of truth that hits many of us where we live. We may seem to have it all, according to worldly standards, but within there is still discontent. There is still something that makes us uneasy. There is something which makes us dissatisfied with life and the way things are going. Mark felt it, and he was seeking an answer to the problem. Blind faith could have given him consolation, but it wasn’t enough. There was no turning off his brain and simply accepting things. Mark had to question. He had to ask. He had to delve deep.
And he roped me into this quest–and for that, I will be forever grateful.
Several years ago, Mark handed me a book at church. It was entitled, A Place for Truth: Leading Thinkers Explore Life’s Hardest Questions. Mark struggled with the book. He wanted to talk about many of the things written in its pages. Little did he know, he was contributing to his pastor’s conversion.
Yes, you heard that correctly. Mark’s gesture of seeking started me on a journey of conversion, and it is not too often that a pastor can stand before a congregation and say such a thing. But never-the-less, I can assure you, it is true. For the book Mark handed me caused me to delve deep, deep within the Christian faith. It caused me to examine myself–my core beliefs and convictions. It confronted me with the truth. Far from a blind faith, it helped me see something tremendously important; something I had managed to give consent to with my head but fail to grasp within the depths of my being. You may be having two thoughts at this moment: #1. What was that thing? And #2. Isn’t this gathering supposed to focused on Mark?
The answer to number one is forthcoming. The answer to number two is, of course, and I’m coming right back there. Because that thing is an answer to some of the things Mark was wrestling with deeply–not only in his poem “Dis-satisfaction” but another poem which I would like to read to you now. This one is entitled “Guilt for Less”:
Once I threw a Canadian coin
into a Salvation Army bucket–clunk
Another time I fell far short of loving my neighbor as myself
After each incident I felt bad
A moral misfit
That I might be the guest at a very hot bar-b-que
No question of immutable truths when I was young–
My brain washed
The conscience, gate keeper, or party pooper
let me know when I’d been bad
Numerous immutable pitfalls await.
The moral electric fence restraining our base instincts
Occasionally we slip under the wire
only to be Tasered by guilt
we come scuttling back seeking forgiveness
How do we escape this scourge?
Heaven’s answer, at least on Sunday morning
Bountiful succor if you prostrate yourself
give up sin forever or at least until next time
a nagging conscience demands that promise
A bar so high, failure foregone
Humanness guarantees a repeat performance
Has this niggling failure diminished us?
Deflated egos: unquestioning sinners in waiting
No one escapes the wide net
Even the sanctimonious one in the front row
You’re guilty of–pride
Wretches all–give it up
The drill: sin–seek forgiveness–absolution–repeat
Seamless–better than a six pack
Strangely, I feel guilty for writing this
How do we escape this scourge? How do we escape guilt? How do we escape this cycle of sin, seek forgiveness, receive absolution, and repeat? This poem reminded me of another author who once wrote about the same sort of thing. St. Paul lifted up this in the letter of Romans so long ago. Addressing the human condition, Paul said much the same thing as Mark–just using different words:
18For I know that nothing good dwells within me, that is, in my flesh. I can will what is right, but I cannot do it. 19For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do. 20Now if I do what I do not want, it is no longer I that do it, but sin that dwells within me. 21 So I find it to be a law that when I want to do what is good, evil lies close at hand. 22For I delight in the law of God in my inmost self, 23but I see in my members another law at war with the law of my mind, making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24Wretched man that I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? (Romans 7:18-24)
Hear Paul’s final question again. Notice the words Paul uses. Who will rescue me from this body of death? Who will rescue me from this cycle of sin? He does not use the word what. It’s not what will save me? It’s who will save me. Mark hit upon how we normally address things in the church. We focus on the what: attend church; ask for forgiveness; try not to sin; fail; repeat. That’s the what. But the what doesn’t save us. It’s the who that does.
“Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!” Paul exclaims. Thanks be to Jesus, for it is He who offers us the answer.
It took me a while, but the process that Mark started with giving me that book found its endpoint in Jesus. It found its endpoint in the heart-felt realization that it is Christ alone who saves. Christ alone. Not our effort. Not our actions. Not our coming to church. Not our asking for forgiveness. Sin is a given. I am a failure, but Jesus died for me anyway. Jesus loved me anyway. Jesus redeems me anyway. Just as Jesus died for you, loves you, and redeems you. Just as Jesus died for Mark, loves Mark, and redeems Mark. If we can pull off our own salvation, we have a reason to feel haughty. We have a reason to feel superior. We have a reason to feel guilty because we should be capable of doing and being better. But, if salvation is only from Jesus–if salvation is only by the grace of God, we are humbled knowing that we are no better than anyone else. We are humbled knowing that despite our sinfulness God loves us tremendously. And we don’t have to feel dissatisfied any longer. There is nothing we have to accomplish to prove our worth. There is nothing we have to accomplish to make ourselves better in the eyes of the world. Christ has done all for us, and He becomes our All in All.
This realization; this conversion within me has deeply affected my teaching and preaching. It has deeply affected the way I view my role as a pastor. And a few have noticed. Mark noticed. The week before he suffered his first stroke, Mark said the following as I took prayer requests from the congregation, “I pray that we come to understand the theology you are preaching.”
I pray that prayer often. That we may understand our salvation is from the Lord. For that is the most important thing. Mark is experiencing that salvation right now. He is with God basking in eternal glory. The promised hope of the resurrection is fulfilled. That hope is also extended to you and to me–not only for when we die, but for our lives right here and now. When Christ becomes the center of our lives and orients our hearts toward Him, we live in that hope daily. We know our worth comes from God and that we will go to God. We know peace of heart and mind. And on days like these, we know there is no saying “Goodby.” There is an acknowledgment that death is not a period. It is a comma, and one day we will join Mark at God’s side. Amen.
Monday, January 13, 2014
Be a Witness
Long ago, when I was in high school, I actually had the privilege of having my dad teach me Algebra, Physics, Chemistry, and Pre-Calculus. I know I am biased, but my dad was a very good teacher. I learned a lot from him. But there was one thing which rather upset me at the time. Dad wouldn’t help me with my homework at home. If I had a question about anything, I was required to go to his class during study hall. He just wouldn’t help me at home. It was rather frustrating! Why would my dad do this to me? Why would he make me go to study hall to get help? He was right there! It didn’t seem fair.
But, let’s think about this for just a moment. Let’s think about why my dad did what he did. Let’s think about what is and isn’t fair. And let’s think about it by asking this question: Did Jesus need to be baptized? Ponder that for just a moment. Did Jesus need to be baptized?
The obvious answer is “No.” I mean John the Baptist is blunt when Jesus shows up to be baptized. John looks Jesus straight in the eye and says, ““I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”
Jesus is God incarnate–the fully human, fully divine Son of God. God doesn’t need to be baptized–at all. God doesn’t need repentance or the forgiveness of sins. Jesus is blameless before God and before humanity. There is no need for him to go through this process. At all. Yet, Jesus shows up to be baptized by John, and Jesus makes John go through with it. “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Why does Jesus demand to be baptized?
Let’s turn to the opening statement of our second lesson from the book of Acts. Peter is addressing the household of Cornelius–a Gentile. Please remember in the context of this time, Jews and Gentiles did not mix. They were like oil and water. Jews considered Gentiles unclean. Peter had just had a vision in which a sheet was lowered out of heaven with all sorts of unclean animals on it. God commanded Peter, “Get up. Kill and eat.” Peter replied, “Nothing unclean has ever touched my lips.” God said, “What I have called clean, do not call unclean.”Immediately after this vision, messengers from Cornelius arrived at Peter’s door. They said Cornelius had received a command to contact Peter while praying. Peter went to the household. When he arrived, he found a group of God-fearing Gentiles who were receptive to the message of Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit brought them to faith.
Upon seeing this, St. Peter addresses the people who had gathered in the house, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” Now, we usually take this text and run with it and talk about how God doesn’t show any sort of favoritism based upon one’s cultural context, one’s gender, one’s sexuality, one’s skin color, or what have you. There is nothing wrong with doing such a thing, but I think we need to push it farther. We need to push God’s impartiality all the way through. Even to His own Son who came to live among us.
Why was Jesus baptized? God shows no partiality.
Why did my dad refuse to help me at home? Dad shows no partiality. Not all the students could access my dad as easy as I could. It wasn’t fair to them if he helped me at home. Dad wasn’t going to show favoritism.
God wasn’t going to either, and this has some very important implications–some very important implications. How so?
Well, let’s think just a moment about what things might have looked like if God showed partiality. Let’s think just a moment about what Jesus’ life might have looked like if God showered Him with favoritism as the Word became flesh and dwelled among us.
Do you think Jesus would have been born in a stable? Not hardly.
Do you think Jesus would have been raised in a rather poor family and been taught the trade of carpentry–a trade considered very, very low on the social totem pole? Probably not.
Do you think Jesus would have lived for 30 years in relative obscurity with no one knowing much about Him? Again, no.
If God showed any sort of partiality, Jesus probably would have been born in a palace. He would have had the best of wealth and privilege. He would have eaten the finest foods, enjoyed the finest drink, gone to the finest schools and had the finest clothes. He would have enjoyed all the best things the world had to offer and never had to deal with social outcasts and misfits. Life would have always been grand and marvelous IF, IF God showed partiality to His Son.
But God shows no partiality. God shows no favoritism. Even to His Son.
And so Jesus was poor, like the vast majority of the world’s population.
Jesus had to work, and His hands were calloused from the labor of carpentry–just like most people in the world have to work.
Jesus was surrounded by ordinary people who did ordinary things and who eked out their living. Jesus never had a place of wealth and privilege. He was just like the vast majority of people who lived.
And Jesus was not immune to suffering. “God shows no partiality.” If God showed favoritism, there wouldn’t have been a cross. But there was. There was a cross. A horrible, bloody cross that Jesus hung upon. Just as we suffer, Jesus suffered.
But there was more to Jesus’ suffering because He did not carry simply His own suffering. It wasn’t just His pain He bore on the cross. No. “This is my Son,” God said at Jesus’ baptism, “with Him I am well pleased.”
God’s Son sent to reconcile the world to God. Jesus didn’t just hang on the cross experiencing His own suffering because He took upon Himself our suffering. He took upon Himself our shame. He took upon Himself our guilt. He took upon Himself our sin. He took upon Himself our pain.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but so that the world might be saved through Him.
Just as God showed no partiality in how Jesus lived, suffered, and died, so God will show no partiality in salvation. “Because He lives, we shall live also” and “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
This is grace without partiality. For you and for me and for all who call upon the name of Jesus. And we are witnesses to this Grace. We are witnesses to what God has done through Jesus Christ. We are witnesses of how God did not even show favoritism to His own Son. We are witnesses to the God who is not above suffering, but who suffered like us and who showed us what the final word will be.
Is this news worth telling? Is this grace worth sharing? Do others need to hear about the God who suffers with them and promises them hope? Is there any doubt about what we are called to do? Live God’s Word Daily. Be a witness. Amen.
But, let’s think about this for just a moment. Let’s think about why my dad did what he did. Let’s think about what is and isn’t fair. And let’s think about it by asking this question: Did Jesus need to be baptized? Ponder that for just a moment. Did Jesus need to be baptized?
The obvious answer is “No.” I mean John the Baptist is blunt when Jesus shows up to be baptized. John looks Jesus straight in the eye and says, ““I need to be baptized by you, and do you come to me?”
Jesus is God incarnate–the fully human, fully divine Son of God. God doesn’t need to be baptized–at all. God doesn’t need repentance or the forgiveness of sins. Jesus is blameless before God and before humanity. There is no need for him to go through this process. At all. Yet, Jesus shows up to be baptized by John, and Jesus makes John go through with it. “Let it be so now; for it is proper for us in this way to fulfill all righteousness.” Why does Jesus demand to be baptized?
Let’s turn to the opening statement of our second lesson from the book of Acts. Peter is addressing the household of Cornelius–a Gentile. Please remember in the context of this time, Jews and Gentiles did not mix. They were like oil and water. Jews considered Gentiles unclean. Peter had just had a vision in which a sheet was lowered out of heaven with all sorts of unclean animals on it. God commanded Peter, “Get up. Kill and eat.” Peter replied, “Nothing unclean has ever touched my lips.” God said, “What I have called clean, do not call unclean.”Immediately after this vision, messengers from Cornelius arrived at Peter’s door. They said Cornelius had received a command to contact Peter while praying. Peter went to the household. When he arrived, he found a group of God-fearing Gentiles who were receptive to the message of Jesus Christ. The Holy Spirit brought them to faith.
Upon seeing this, St. Peter addresses the people who had gathered in the house, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears him and does what is right is acceptable to him.” Now, we usually take this text and run with it and talk about how God doesn’t show any sort of favoritism based upon one’s cultural context, one’s gender, one’s sexuality, one’s skin color, or what have you. There is nothing wrong with doing such a thing, but I think we need to push it farther. We need to push God’s impartiality all the way through. Even to His own Son who came to live among us.
Why was Jesus baptized? God shows no partiality.
Why did my dad refuse to help me at home? Dad shows no partiality. Not all the students could access my dad as easy as I could. It wasn’t fair to them if he helped me at home. Dad wasn’t going to show favoritism.
God wasn’t going to either, and this has some very important implications–some very important implications. How so?
Well, let’s think just a moment about what things might have looked like if God showed partiality. Let’s think just a moment about what Jesus’ life might have looked like if God showered Him with favoritism as the Word became flesh and dwelled among us.
Do you think Jesus would have been born in a stable? Not hardly.
Do you think Jesus would have been raised in a rather poor family and been taught the trade of carpentry–a trade considered very, very low on the social totem pole? Probably not.
Do you think Jesus would have lived for 30 years in relative obscurity with no one knowing much about Him? Again, no.
If God showed any sort of partiality, Jesus probably would have been born in a palace. He would have had the best of wealth and privilege. He would have eaten the finest foods, enjoyed the finest drink, gone to the finest schools and had the finest clothes. He would have enjoyed all the best things the world had to offer and never had to deal with social outcasts and misfits. Life would have always been grand and marvelous IF, IF God showed partiality to His Son.
But God shows no partiality. God shows no favoritism. Even to His Son.
And so Jesus was poor, like the vast majority of the world’s population.
Jesus had to work, and His hands were calloused from the labor of carpentry–just like most people in the world have to work.
Jesus was surrounded by ordinary people who did ordinary things and who eked out their living. Jesus never had a place of wealth and privilege. He was just like the vast majority of people who lived.
And Jesus was not immune to suffering. “God shows no partiality.” If God showed favoritism, there wouldn’t have been a cross. But there was. There was a cross. A horrible, bloody cross that Jesus hung upon. Just as we suffer, Jesus suffered.
But there was more to Jesus’ suffering because He did not carry simply His own suffering. It wasn’t just His pain He bore on the cross. No. “This is my Son,” God said at Jesus’ baptism, “with Him I am well pleased.”
God’s Son sent to reconcile the world to God. Jesus didn’t just hang on the cross experiencing His own suffering because He took upon Himself our suffering. He took upon Himself our shame. He took upon Himself our guilt. He took upon Himself our sin. He took upon Himself our pain.
For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son so that all those who believe in Him should not perish but have eternal life. For God sent the Son into the world not to condemn the world but so that the world might be saved through Him.
Just as God showed no partiality in how Jesus lived, suffered, and died, so God will show no partiality in salvation. “Because He lives, we shall live also” and “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
This is grace without partiality. For you and for me and for all who call upon the name of Jesus. And we are witnesses to this Grace. We are witnesses to what God has done through Jesus Christ. We are witnesses of how God did not even show favoritism to His own Son. We are witnesses to the God who is not above suffering, but who suffered like us and who showed us what the final word will be.
Is this news worth telling? Is this grace worth sharing? Do others need to hear about the God who suffers with them and promises them hope? Is there any doubt about what we are called to do? Live God’s Word Daily. Be a witness. Amen.
Tuesday, November 19, 2013
A Good Question
If it is o.k. for us to seek to change one another's minds in the political sphere and convert a person to our point of view, why then is it seemingly not o.k. for us to seek to change another's mind and convert another to our religious point of view?
Discuss.
Discuss.
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