The Purpose of the Church

This morning, I am going to shift gears a little bit. Many of my sermons recently have been geared to invite people who are outside of the faith to consider having Jesus as the Lord and Savior of their lives. I have tried to show how and why He is worthy of such a position and how the Gospel offers insight and answers to a lot of the problems we all face in this world. I have done very little recently to talk about the role of the people of God in living out our calling to be children of God. Today’s text from the Gospel of Mark leads us directly there, so if you are not a part of the church or if you are considering Christianity, please know that this sermon is not directly intended for you. Hopefully, however, you will appreciate the information included within.

Let me begin by asking you: what is the church’s main purpose? What is the reason for the church on earth? At first, this might seem like the answer is obvious, at least to each and every one of us individually. But as you dig into this question and reflect upon it deeply, I think you will see that it is actually a very complicated question. I mean, if you really want to see just how complicated it is, those of you with computers, go home and Google the question, "What is the purpose of the church?" You will get a whole lot of responses. Some of them similar. Quite a few of them different. And as each author of each article begins to delve into the question, you will see a whole lot of non-negotiables:

The purpose of the church is to worship.
The purpose of the church is to care for those in need.
The purpose of the church is to make and train disciples.
The purpose of the church is to be the earthly representation of Jesus.
The purpose of the church is to be a place of prayer.
The purpose of the church it to provide a place where all are welcome.
The purpose of the church is to enact the kingdom of God on earth.

All of these are good, solid answers. They are theologically and biblically based. One can easily provide all kinds of support for these answers, and I certainly don’t want to demean any of them. They are all correct, but there is a danger that lurks behind all of them. There is a danger that creeps in and lures us away from the true purpose of the church on earth. That danger is our own selfish nature–a nature that emphasizes survival and security over everything else. What am I talking about?

For the last several weeks, we have traveled through the book of Mark, and every lesson that we have had before us has either been in or been about the temple. Jesus triumphally entered into the city of Jerusalem and then entered the temple. Because it was late, He went camping. The next day, Jesus cleansed the temple with a parallel encounter with a fig tree that was rotten from the inside out. The next day, the chief priests, the scribes and the elders asked Jesus by what authority He was doing these things. They asked Jesus that question while Jesus was teaching–in the temple. In each of these circumstances, lurking in the background was the Sanhedrin’s decision to turn the courtyard of the Gentiles into a marketplace thereby excluding the vast majority of the world’s population from worshiping the One, True, God. Jesus exposure of this travesty angered the Sanhedrin, and they wanted to put Jesus to death, and instead of trying to soothe hurt and damaged feelings, Jesus doubles down. He tells everyone a parable. A parable that riles the chief priests, scribes, and the elders even more.

Jesus begins, " ‘A man planted a vineyard, put a fence around it, dug a pit for the wine press, and built a watch-tower; then he leased it to tenants and went to another country. 2When the season came, he sent a slave to the tenants to collect from them his share of the produce of the vineyard. 3But they seized him, and beat him, and sent him away empty-handed. 4And again he sent another slave to them; this one they beat over the head and insulted. 5Then he sent another, and that one they killed. And so it was with many others; some they beat, and others they killed."

Now, this situation was not uncommon in the ancient world. We have discovered a great stash of legal papers in which landlords leased their lands to tenants and agreed upon receiving parts of the harvest as payment. We have also discovered many instances where tenants refused to pay their landlord, and they indeed mistreated the servants that landlords sent to retrieve their payments. Jesus is using real world situations to illustrate His point.

And the point has to do with the nature of the landlord–which we are pretty sure is a reference to God the Father; and the nature of the tenants–which are the Sanhedrin and other Jewish leaders. Mind you, this is not a parable directed at all the Jewish people. It is directed squarely at the Jewish religious authorities who have abandoned the purpose of the temple.

So, what does this parable say first about the nature of the landlord? Think about this for a moment: what would you do if you had leased a property to some renters and they refused to pay the rent? What would you do if you knew that they were reaping the benefits of living on your property without just repayment? What would you do if you sent someone on your behalf to collect the payment and your renters drove them off? How long would you wait before getting the authorities involved? How long would you wait before calling the police? How long would you wait before evicting your tenants? If you are like most people, you would have almost zero tolerance for such behavior. You would act quickly to prevent such abuse, but does this landlord do that? No. Not in the least. In fact, the landlord’s actions almost bespeak of major weakness. He is literally letting the tenants get away with murder. He does nothing except send more representatives. One might come to the conclusion that this landlord is daft.

And the tenants take advantage of this. The tenants are selfish and not only want all the proceeds of the vineyard. They want ownership of the vineyard themselves. According to the New Interpreter’s Bible commentary, "Villagers could take over land from an absentee landlord, if the villagers felt the landlord was too weak to enforce the claims." Think about that for a moment as you think about the fact that Jesus is comparing God the Father to this landlord. Think about that as you compare the actions of these tenants to the actions of the Sanhedrin in the temple. Think about the injustice being perpetrated by these tenants and the Sanhedrin. It should begin to make you angry.

We return now to the landlord. Again, we might think this landlord to be absolutely daft because even after all of His servants were beaten and killed, the landlord decides to send His only, beloved son. What Father in His right mind would do such a thing?!! I mean, if you were that landlord, would this thought ever cross your mind? Of course it wouldn’t. People would think you crazy. You would send a swat team, not your only, beloved child. But that is the difference between you and this landlord. The true Landlord is slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. The True Landlord will go to great lengths to give the tenants a chance to pay–to honor their agreement. The True Landlord will take the chance that His only Son might meet with death because He is a Landlord unlike any other Landlord.

And the unthinkable happens. The tenants reject the Son; kill him; leave his body unburied and disgraced thinking they will now inherit the vineyard. Their thoughts aren’t totally unfounded. It is highly likely they thought the landlord dead when they recognized the son coming. They believed that, according to the laws of the land, if they killed the son and retained possession of the land, they would indeed inherit. Their plan was perfect.

But the Landlord was still around, and Jesus makes no bones about what will happen next. The tenants will be driven out and the vineyard given to others. It’s not a surprising outcome. Again, according to the New Interpreter’s Bible Commentary, "Since the Law permits the son to act on behalf of his father, the legal definition of agency implies that dishonor and insult to the son would be equivalent to dishonoring the one who sends him." Think about that in light of the Sanhedrin’s questioning of Jesus’ authority last week. If Jesus’ authority indeed comes from God, then to reject Jesus’ authority is to reject the One who sent Him. This is the strongest condemnation possible for the religious leaders.

But here is the interesting part: in the parable, the Son is dead. The Father is still coming to enact judgement, so why does Jesus include the rest of His teaching? For Jesus quotes a portion of Psalm 118 directly, "22 The stone that the builders rejected has become the chief cornerstone. 23 This is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes."

Now, there are couple of things here that are of note. The first is the translation of the words "cornerstone" from the Greek. When we hear this word, we think of a stone at the corner of a foundation–the foundational stone, so to speak; however, the Greek doesn’t really fit that kind of a stone. The Greek, according to Craig Evans, is better translated as, "‘head of the corner’, which probably refers to either a capstone that completes an arch or a capital that sits atop a column or pinnacle of the building." Therefore, it is a stone above all other stones. It is the stone to which most attention is drawn. It is the stone that everyone looks at. This is an important point in light of the last statement, "That this is the Lord’s doing; it is marvelous in our eyes." What is so significant about this verse?

Again, Evans says, "Thaumastae, ‘marvelous’ suggests that God is accomplishing something against all odds, something completely unexpected, something that mortals cannot achieve apart from dvine assistance." Reflect upon that for just a moment as you think about Jesus who is the Son sent by the Father. Reflect upon that for just a moment as you think about the Son who is rejected and killed by the Jewish authorities–who is disgraced. What happens to Him? What happens to Jesus? He is lifted up; resurrected for all to see. Jesus becomes the chief stone, the cap stone, the stone above every other stone that all are to gaze upon.

Which takes us squarely to the purpose of the church today. I mean, I don’t think it’s that hard to figure out now, do you. The purpose of the church today is to point to Jesus. The purpose of the church today is to proclaim Jesus. The purpose of the church today is to lift up the name that is above all other names and tell the world what God has done through Jesus.

I hope that those of you who are sitting here this morning are saying to yourself right now, "Well, that’s obvious. Tell us something that we don’t know." I hope that you believe this is a no-brainer observation. I hope so, because the reality in most of our congregations is quite the opposite. The reality in our congregations is that we focus most of our attention and most of our arguing on things without even referencing Jesus.

Now, I want to be very clear here. I am not trying to get us away from doing things. As James writes in his letter, "Faith without works is dead." And there are those who are quick to point out a very important truth. It is worthless to go up to a hungry person and tell them, "Jesus loves you," while they are dying of hunger. They will immediately think that Jesus has no concern for their hunger–which simply is not true. However, let me ask you a couple of questions: without raising your hands, how many of you have given to some sort of charitable organization in the past month or so? My guess is that many of you have. Second question: how many of you have proclaimed the gospel and told someone about Jesus in the past month or so? I’d bet a good chunk of change that the number of hands would be far, far fewer. In fact, I’d say we have been trained to let our actions speak louder than words. In fact, you may have also heard that wonderful saying, "Preach the gospel at all times, if necessary, use words."

I’ve used that saying numerous times in the past. I no longer use it. Why? There was a brilliant illustration that the late preacher Dr. Martin Lloyd Jones used when talking about the Gospel. He said: Imagine a king went off to war against an enemy that is threatening your country. If that king loses the battle, what does he send back? He sends back military advisors who say, "Archers over here, calvary over here, infantry over here. Get ready to fight for your lives." In other words, get ready to do everything you can. However, if the king wins the battle, he sends back heralds. They proclaim! They tell the good news, "The battle is done. The king has won. Live into the freedom!" The Gospel is literally translated "Good news." News is told. It is not lived. History is told. It is not lived.

What Jesus has done in bringing reconciliation with God is news. It cannot be lived. It must be told. Therefore, all we do must in some way, shape or form point to Jesus. Everything about our congregation, about our lives should lead people to look at the capstone, the head of the column, the stone that the builders rejected that became the chief cap stone. We must proclaim that the Lord has done this. We didn’t. We didn’t do anything. We have been saved by sheer grace. Humankind could never accomplish the salvation that was given through the cross of Jesus: 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 that the world might be saved through Him."

This is the ultimate focus of the church and the reason it exists. Jesus is trying to convey just this to the religious leaders of His day. They reasoned that they were helping others by putting sacrificial animals on sale in the market place, but they were only truly helping themselves. Likewise, when we focus on being kind to visitors, having a lot of programming, keeping our grounds looking nice, giving through our community care fund, having perfect worship music, and all other sorts of things–FOR THE PURPOSE OF GETTING MEMBERS, then we too are working for and pointing to ourselves. Christianity is not about that. The church is not about that. We are not to be about that. We are called to point to and tell others about Jesus, and when we are pointing to Jesus; well, then we will be nice to visitors, have a lot of programming, keep our grounds looking nice, help others, worship well, and all sorts of things not for our own benefit, but for His. Amen.

A Lack of Trust

    As I begin this morning, I would like to let you know that because of recent events, I modified my sermon.  What I preach now will be different from my original, written text.

    As the news of the school shooting in Oregon began to flash across my computer screen, I became very troubled by the eyewitness reports of the gunman targeting Christians.  Apparently, he held a deep seeded animosity toward us.  And I wondered why?  I mean, first off, don’t get me wrong, I believe that this shooter had something deeply wrong within him.  You just don’t go and shoot unarmed people who have no chance to fight back.  That is a cowardly act.  The man bears the full responsibility of his actions.

    Yet, I cannot help but wonder why Christians.  I mean, at the heart of our ethics are two commands: love the Lord your God with all your heart and soul and mind and strength and love your neighbor as yourself.  Jesus says that upon these two commands rest all of the rest of the Law and the Prophets.  And if we are loving the Lord with all our heart and mind and soul and strength, and if we are pouring ourselves out in love to our neighbor, why in the world would anyone target us?  Hate us?  Desire to kill us?  Well, maybe, just maybe, we don’t love God and our neighbor as much as we think.  I believe our gospel lesson helps us see this.

    Too often today, we define faith is believing something that we cannot prove.  Essentially, we make faith an intellectual pursuit.  Faith is striving to make our brain accept something we have little or no evidence for, i.e. I cannot see God.  I have not experienced God.  I see no evidence for God, but I am terrified of what happens to me if I die.  If I can wrap my head around believing in God, and if there is life after death, then I can assure that I will not end up in the fiery pit of hell.  For your information, I do not like this definition.  I think this definition and understanding falls far, far short of what faith truly is, and it is rightly criticized and mocked by people who do not believe in God.  Why would I say such a thing.

    I think I can actually illustrate it quite well with an old joke.  It’s a joke about an atheist who decides to take a walk in a remote part of a national park.  While he is admiring the scenery, the trail suddenly gives way and he is hurled off a cliff.  He manages to grab a branch that is extended from the cliff wall.  He looks up, and he knows he cannot climb the sheer face.  He looks down, and it is a drop that will certainly kill him.  He begins crying for help.  Being the rational sort, he knows no one is likely to come by for quite a while given the remoteness of the area.  Being the rational sort, he also knows he is quite run out of options, so he does something that is against much of his nature.  This atheist cries out, “Well, God, it seems as if I am in a pickle.  If you are up there–and most of my life I haven’t believed that you are–can you give me a hand?”

    A voice boomed out, “I am here.  I will help.  Let go.”

    The atheist then retorted, “Anyone else up there?”

    I find that joke quite humorous, but I also find it deeply true.  Once the voice spoke, the atheist could no longer say that he didn’t believe in God.  The voice confirmed the existence of God.  However, it is quite one thing to believe in something and quite another thing to actually trust in that something.  Let me say that again.  It is quite one thing to believe in God, and it is quite another thing to actually trust in God.  For far too long, we in the Church have simply talked about believing in God.  We have not done a very good job in convincing people to trust in God nor have we done a very good job in trusting God ourselves.  We suffer from the same condition the disciples suffered from and the same condition the father in the Gospel lesson suffer from.  How so?  Let’s turn to the text.

    Jesus, Peter, James and John come down off the mountain where Jesus was transfigured.  They run smack dab into conflict.  The scribes and the rest of Jesus’ disciples are in a heated argument.  It is quite interesting that when Jesus appears, people come running to him with utter amazement–the Greek word here is extremely strong indicating an overwhelming sense of awe.  Given the context of this verse, I can only think that the crowd is not awestruck in the sense of Jesus has done some sort of mighty act, but they are extremely, extremely glad that He has arrived.  Why would they be so glad?

    The story, I think gives us the clues as Jesus addresses everyone by asking, “What are you arguing about with them?”  I think Jesus’ question is addressed to the disciples, but they are strangely quiet here.  It is quite surprising that they say absolutely nothing, and it is a person from the crowd who speaks.  It is a man who says, “Rabbi, I brought to you my son [Luke tells us that this is the man’s only son] who has a demon, and your disciples were not able to heal him.”  This is an important point because in the rabbinic tradition of ancient Judaism, it was well believed that a rabbi’s followers–a rabbi’s disciples–would be able to do the things the rabbi did.  And that’s exactly what had happened in the past.  In Mark, chapter 6, Jesus had sent the disciples out to proclaim the Gospel, to cast out demons, and heal the sick.  Mark 6 verses 12 and 13 read, “12So they [the disciples] went out and proclaimed that all should repent. 13They cast out many demons, and anointed with oil many who were sick and cured them.”  So, the disciples had been able to cast out demons in the past, but they were unable to do so now.  This would have called into question Jesus’ teaching.  This would have called into question whether or not Jesus was legitimate, and this would indeed precipitate a heated argument between the scribes and Jesus’ disciples.  It would also have caused quite a bit of embarrassment to the disciples–they were unable to do the things that Jesus did; that they once had did.  Something was wrong. 

    Jesus reacts rather harshly at this point.  I mean, His words are poignant!  
“You faithless generation, how much longer must I be among you? How much longer must I put up with you?”  This is not a nice comment.  This is not a comment that makes you feel good.  This is not a “Jesus loves you just the way you are” comment.  No one wants to hear this kind of rebuke, and no one escapes it.  Not the disciples.  Not the crowd.  Not the scribes.  Every one of them is included in Jesus’ comment.  Every one of them.  Why?  Why are they all included?

    Let’s push on. We will get there.  Jesus concludes His questions of anger with the command.  “Bring him [the boy] to me.” 

    They obey, and the demon throws the boy into a convulsion.  We look at this and we see a classic example of a grand mal seizure.  The medical profession may simply see epilepsy here, but Mark calls us to look deeper.  What drives the epilepsy is not something physically wrong with the boy–there is something deeper.  There is something malevolent.  There is something that not only causes grand mal seizures, but causes them while the boy is around fire or water.  There is something that is seeking to destroy the boy, and when that something comes close to Jesus, it begins reacting once again.  It begins trying to destroy the boy once again.  Evil cannot stand in the presence of God incarnate. 

    Jesus looks at the boy, and in great compassion, He turns to the father and says, “How long has he been this way?”  You see, Jesus is tapping into the father’s deep grief here.  Jesus is tapping into the years of this father trying to keep his son from dying at the hands of this demon.  Jesus is tapping into the frustration, the pain, the sorrow, the anger, the toil, and the exhaustion that has built up over the years.  Jesus wants this father to know that He cares.

    You can almost see the father’s grief become manifest as he sighs and says, “From childhood.”  And then as the father continues to explain, “It has often cast him into the fire and into the water, to destroy him; but if you are able to do anything, have pity on us and help us.” 

    Jesus catches this father’s slip up.  “IF you are able?  All things are possible–and I’m going to change the translation here–for the one who trusts.”

    The father replies, “I do trust.  Help my distrust!”  This is such an important statement.  Hold it in the back of your heads for a little while as I finish going through this text. 

    When Jesus sees that the crowd is starting to expand, He rebukes the demon and casts it out.  He demands that the demon never, ever again enter into the boy.  The demon makes the boy have one, final, tremendous convulsion–it’s like a convulsion of all convulsions, and then the boy appears dead.  I can only imagine at this moment what the crowd; what the disciples; what the father; and what the scribes are thinking.  They are thinking Jesus has failed.  The father is probably standing there fighting back tears.  The crowd is standing in disbelief thinking this miracle worker has finally met his match.  The disciples are frightened that they have indeed tied in with the wrong rabbi.  The scribes are secretly rejoicing that Jesus has been shown to be a fraud.  But Jesus, takes the boy by the hand, and He raised him up–just so you know, the same word Mark uses for Jesus raising the boy is the same word Mark uses for Jesus being raised from the dead.  Sometimes, when it looks like all is lost, that death has won, there is more to the story.  There certainly was here. 

    When all was said and done, Jesus and His disciples retired into a house, and the disciples’ curiosity got the best of them.  “Why couldn’t we cast that one out?” they asked Jesus.

    “That kind can only come out with prayer,” Jesus responds.  Mark leaves us right here.  There is no more explanation.  What does this mean? 

     I think, given the context of this story and the trajectory of the book of Mark, I would like to suggest to you that the disciples were still struggling to see.  They were still partially blind.  They believed that Jesus was the Messiah, but they hadn’t learned to trust in Him.  They hadn’t learned that following Him meant submission to Him.  Why do I say that?

    First off, let me ask you this question: do you know what position the Bible most recommends for prayer?  Do you think it’s with head bowed and hands folded?  No.  It’s not.  The position of prayer most employed by people in the Bible is laying down prone on the floor with arms outstretched.  The second position most mentioned for prayer?  Kneeling.  The first position is a position of extreme vulnerability–of ultimate submission.  The second position, on one’s knees is also one of vulnerability and submission but not quite as much as the first–the point being, prayer is a position of ultimate submission and vulnerability.  Prayer is the place where we come before God to admit our inability, our powerlessness, our lack of control over anything and everything.  Prayer is the place where we come and place our complete trust in Jesus.  Prayer isn’t about our belief–prayer is about trust.  To go back to the joke of the atheist on the branch: prayer isn’t hearing God’s voice and saying, “I’m glad to know you exist;” prayer is letting go of the branch trusting that the voice knows what it is talking about.  The disciples were not submitting to God.  The disciples were trying to do it all on
their own with disastrous results.

    Oh, and at this point, you might expect me to urge you to put your trust in Jesus.  At this point you might think I am going to stand up here and tell you that you should stop just believing and allow your faith to migrate all the way to your heart so that you put your trust only and solely in Jesus.  And that once you put your trust completely and totally in Jesus you too will experience peace, joy and satisfaction.  You too will be able to face illness and death and evil and overcome it.  You might expect me to announce to you that this is what the Christian life is all about, and you need to practice this.

    You know, this is all true, but if I were to start proclaiming all of this, I would expose myself as the ultimate hypocrite.  I mean, if I trusted solely and only in Jesus, I would never take my children to the doctor.  If I trusted only and solely in Jesus I would not worry about saving for retirement.  If I trusted only and solely in Jesus, I wouldn’t worry about offending anyone by what I said and what I did.  If I trusted only and solely in Jesus, I wouldn’t worry about burning out.  But when my kids get sick, I take them to the doctor.  When I think about growing old, I worry about whether or not I will have saved enough.  When I think about what I say, I worry about if I offend anyone.  When I think about working, I strive to ensure I do not burn out.  And this is just the tip of the ice berg.  I believe in Jesus.  I believe that He is the Son of God, incarnate, who died and rose from the dead.  I believe this with my whole heart and my entire being, but I do not trust Him completely.  Over and over again, I trust my self; I trust science and technology; I trust my bank account.  “Oh Lord, I trust, but I don’t trust you fully.  Help my distrust.”  Do you see why I said that statement is crucial?  It captures the reality of living the Christian life.  It captures every one of us who profess to believe in Jesus Christ.  It points us out as those who indeed have some bit of trust in Jesus, but it also condemns us that we don’t trust as we should.  We too don’t quite see as we should.  We do not have the hearts that we should.

    And if we do not trust God in the manner that we should...

    If we do not live as though we were totally and completely dependent upon God...

    How in the world will we ever love Him with our entire heart and mind and soul and strength?

    How will we ever love our neighbor as we love ourselves?

    We can’t.

    We won’t.

    Do you feel very small right about now?  I hope you do.  I do too.

    But the good news is that there is One who indeed trusted His heavenly Father that much.  There was One who loved His Father with His entire heart and mind and soul and strength.  There was One who loved His neighbor as Himself.  There was One who fulfilled the Law and its demands and became the perfect Lamb of God who would take away the sin of the world.

    For Jesus’ obedience and trust in His Father led Him straight to the cross where upon it, Jesus looked down at a world that deserved God’s wrath and punishment; Jesus looked down at a world that deserved condemnation.  Jesus looked down at you and I in our distrust; our disbelief; our enmity toward God and toward one another and said, “Father, forgive them for they know not what they do.  Do not let your wrath burn hot against them.  Do not forsake them.  Forsake me.  Let your wrath be turned toward me.”  And the wrath of God was satisfied as Jesus took our place on the cross loving us with a love beyond measure.

    “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 that the world might be saved through Him.”

    This is the core of the Christian message.  The Christian message is not, “Go out there and follow the law better.”  The Christian message is not, “You’d better do justice!”  The Christian message is not, “You’d better get your sexual morals in line.”  The Christian message is, “Look at how much God loves you.  Look at how He died for you!”  And if we are leading with that message and are still targeted, so be it.  For we are leading with the love of God and not striving to tell everyone what to do.  We are leaving it up to God to change others’ hearts.  May this message be on our lips today and every day.  Amen.

The Conundrum of Our Day

For the past few weeks, I have thoroughly enjoyed teaching a class on Martin Luther and his vast influence upon Western history.  There have been more than a few moments of fantastic discussion which have triggered some deep contemplations on my part including the following:

This past Sunday, one of the folks attending class asked, "How was it that the popes of that time were able to get away with all the extravagance and abuse?"

The answers were quite simple:

1. Folks were biblically illiterate.  They had no access to the Scriptures in their own languages and had no way of seeing that such abuses were contrary to the commands of Jesus.

2. The Church at the time controlled most of the means of communication and could shut things down pretty quickly.  If someone started raising complaints of abuse, the Church could and would put folks to death to silence them.  There was no such thing as paparazzi to record everything that was going on and let the masses know.

3. There was a particular theology at play which said that such wealth and extravagance was a blessing of God.  If I have arisen to such a position, then I am entitled to such luxury.  Couple this theology with the fact that most Church positions were not given to those who exhibited great faithfulness or were steadfast in study and discipline but were rather awarded to the highest bidder, and you had a recipe for abuse.

Of course, this prompted comparisons to today where some "pastors" revel in such gross interpretations of theology.  I mean, what pastor in his right mind says that they need a $60 million dollar jet? 

However, this also points to a much larger problem in our society--one that I pointed out in class.

In Luther's day, people were highly, biblically illiterate because they did not have access to the Bible in their own language.  They couldn't call out such behavior because they were ignorant.  Today, people are highly, biblically illiterate even though they have unfettered access to the Bible, and even though there are those willing to call out such behavior, such calls fall upon deaf ears and make little difference.

Why?

This brings us to the conundrum:

In our technological age, everyone has a voice.  Everyone has the opportunity to expound upon and interpret whatever text they choose.  From Tolkein to Plato to the Bible, anyone can expound and give input to what is written and said. 

Now, this isn't necessarily a bad thing in and of itself.  It is good to have free interchange of ideas.  We certainly do not want to return to the days when you could be killed for offering up an interpretation outside the mainstream.  Orthodoxy needs heresy to keep it on the right path, but heresy does not need to be met with destruction.

But neither does it need to be met with acceptance.  And we are far too accepting of heresy today.

How so?

In this manner: 

Someone decides they would like to learn more about Christianity and the person of Jesus.  They pick up a Bible and begin reading.  Before long, they stumble upon Jesus' teachings:

If you are angry with a brother, you are committing murder.

If you look at a woman with lust, you are committing adultery.

If you divorce and get remarried, you are committing adultery.

If you want to be a disciple, you have to hate family and life itself.

If you want to be a disciple, you must give up all possessions.

Many might quit right here.  They might see the impossibility of such actions and throw in the towel, but others might just want some clarification.  Others might want to understand why such teachings are given.  They seek out advice from a pastor or a learned individual.  They ask, "Did Jesus really mean what He said here?"

Of course, most pastors will try to soften Jesus' teachings.  "No, you don't have to give up your possessions or hate your family or life itself.  Jesus means, you must love Him more than you love your possessions and family and life.  You can have possessions and be a disciple.  No, you are not committing adultery if you look at a woman--that's a natural human instinct.  God created you that way, so it isn't sinful.  Getting angry is just a part of life.  As long as you don't act on it, you are fine."

Do you see how in each of these cases there is an actual departure from the teachings' of Jesus?  Do you see how in each of these cases, Jesus' actual words are disregarded and replaced with a different teaching?

Dietrich Bonhoeffer, in his book The Cost of Discipleship, would have said, and it's a great quote, we are trying to justify the sin instead of proclaim the justification of the sinner.

And yet, Bonhoeffer, (and I) are simply regarded as one more voice out there; one more interpretation to consider; one more option to think about that may or may not work out for whoever is striving to understand.

With so many voices speaking and interpreting, it is nearly impossible to make any headway in discovering the Truth.  With the ability to go and find someone who gives me comfort and lets me continue on in my merry way with no change or transformation; with so many interpretations at the click of a mouse; I can weed out anything that challenges me or calls me to reevaluate my own worldview. 

How can the Gospel be proclaimed without sounding like simply "one more voice in a cacophony of voices?"  How can someone stand and say, "This is the Truth," when the prevailing view is "what is true for you is true for you, but it's not true for me."?  How can any true form of debate take place if that trump card is played?  There cannot be any striving for truth if truth is that relative.

Hence the conundrum.  Hence the struggle of the Christian Church. 

Is it possible for the Church to proclaim to others, "Listen for God's voice" when we are drowning in a cacophony of voices?

Two Great Things that Go Great Together (Apologies to Reeces Peanut Butter Cups)

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

    It is very good to see so many of you here this morning in worship.  It is always great to see a church full of people.  Easter is one Sunday when that normally happens because most know the importance of the day or many have their curiosity peaked and come to see what this Christian faith is all about.  For whatever reason you are here, I give thanks to God that you are here, but I also would like to ask this question: where were you on Friday?

    I mean, we also gathered together then to worship, but the church most definitely was not full.  Where were you on Friday?  Now, please do not think that I am asking you this to instill within you a sense of guilt or obligation.  Far from it.  The Church throughout history has been guilty of trying to motivate people through guilt and fear far too often.  I do not want to add to that history.  My question is one of curiosity as to why few show up for Good Friday services.  I mean, I do understand some folks who say, “Pastor, I love coming to hear the good news of Easter.  I love coming to hear that Jesus is risen from the dead because in a world like ours where we are constantly bombarded by bad news and news that makes us scared, I love hearing something positive for a change.  I don’t like hearing about death and dying.  I don’t like hearing about blood and torture.  I don’t like hearing about nails and thorns.  I’d much rather hear about life and abundance.  I’d much rather hear about good news.”  I understand where you are coming from, but I’d like to remind you this morning that there is a reason we call it Good Friday and not Bad Friday or the Death of God Friday.  No.  It is also a very, very good day.

    At this point, you may be wondering why I am talking about Friday so much.  You may be scratching your head thinking, “Isn’t this Easter.  Aren’t I supposed to be hearing about the resurrection?  Why this talk of the cross?”  Let me answer in this fashion.  You see, I am old enough to remember when Reeces Peanut Butter Cups used to do a lot of advertizing on television.  I don’t know how many of you actually remember those commercials, but I do.  Usually, there was a guy or gal walking down the street or sidewalk eating a bar of chocolate.  Then there was another person walking down the street blissfully eating peanut butter.  Both were oblivious to the world around them.  Somehow, the two always managed to run into each other, and somehow, magically, the chocolate bar always ended up in the peanut butter.  After a moment of complaining that the two things were mixed, the folks would taste the result of the accident and say, “It’s delicious.”  Then the announcer would say, “Two great tastes that taste great together, Reeces Peanut butter Cups.”  You see, Recees is making the argument that chocolate and peanut butter are better together than they are separately.  It’s an important point.

    Now, there was a part of me that wanted to put this together a little differently.  I mean, part of me wanted to use part of the theme song to the television series, Married with Children.  You know, the little song that went, “Love and Marriage; Love and marriage, go together like a horse and carriage.  Let me tell you brother, you can’t have one without the other.”  I wanted to use that, but I wasn’t sure it was appropriate given the nature of the television show. ;-) But the point is this: the crucifixion and the resurrection go together.  The two are inseparable.  As they combine, we see the Gospel in all of its fullness–in all of its glory.  The cross is God’s redemption of the world–truly good news.  The resurrection is Jesus vindication and the revealing of the hope we share when we trust in Jesus’ action–again, truly good news.  Both are great in and of themselves, but when you put them together, then you have something truly marvelous!  You may wonder how it all goes together.

    This past Lent, during our Wednesday evening worship services, I preached a sermon series titled, “What is the Gospel?”, and I spent time laying out the Christian narrative.  It began with creation as God created a world where all was good, where everything fit.  We have echos of that world in our midst today.  In the recent past, I was visiting with someone who works in the medical field who said that our brains were hard wired for doing good things–for helping one another; for compassion and kindness.  What a wonderful echo of the way God had created us.  Imagine if we all functioned with kindness, compassion, and doing good for each other at all times.  This is the way God intended it!

    However, the story progressed because we know that none of us act with kindness and compassion at all times.  None of us work fully for the good of another at all times.  There is something deep within that is corrupt.  There is something deep within that seeks our own well being; our own satisfaction; our own desires above the needs of another.  Where did this come from?  Christianity points to a particular point in human development when we decided to be like God.  We decided we wanted to know good and evil and decide that for ourselves.  We decided we didn’t want God’s guidance and instruction, but that we could handle such matters for ourselves.  We looked to ourselves for our own well being and our own satisfaction.  In short, we decided to be little gods ourselves, and the results were disastrous!  Now, you might wonder how this might be a bad thing and whether or not this is still true of even yourself.  You might wonder if we still want to be little gods in this day and age of marvelous technology and advancement.  I would argue, yes, in every way this is still very relevant.  Aside from much of the evil and greed we see happening in the world, there is this: who among you here this morning at some point and time hasn’t said, “If everyone would just believe like I believe and do the things I think are right, then the world would be great!”  Do you see what you are trying to do in that statement?  Do you see what your heart is actually getting at?  If everyone would just do as you say they should, then the world would function great.  You are trying to be a little god and pontificate to the world!  Yes, this all rings very, very true.

    And as I said before, such things prove disastrous for our relationship not only with God but with one another.  “How?” you might ask.  Well, think about it: if you think one particular way is the right way, and another person thinks the exact opposite is the right way, what is going to happen?  Will you come to any sort of resolution?  Will you be able to work things out and through if you are convinced in your own mind that you are absolutely and completely right?  No.  You will never be able to do so.  You will work either through power or manipulation to achieve your goals and your desires no matter what happens to another.  Convinced of your own rightness, you will end up stepping on those who disagree with you, and eventually seeing them as the enemy.  Do you wonder why our political system is in gridlock?  Do you wonder why Republicans and Democrats cannot get along?  Do you wonder why liberals and conservatives spend time finger pointing and digging trenches instead of building bridges?  It all goes back to thinking that I have all the answers and that I am a little god unto myself.

    Of course, when we try to be little gods ourselves, not only are our relationships with one another strained, but what does that do to our relationship with our Creator?  What does that do to our relationship with the one who desires to truly be God of our lives?  Well, it strains it too, to say the least.  It creates a gap between the true God and ourselves–a gap that cannot be crossed despite our best efforts.  You may wonder why we cannot cross that gap.  You may wonder why we can’t make things right with God.  Here’s why: first off, God demands perfection.  He wouldn’t be God if He asked for anything less.  We must love Him above all things and then love one another as we love ourselves second.  If we are honest with ourselves, we know that we don’t do this.  Secondly, if we are honest with ourselves, we know that we only strive to follow the law when there is threat of punishment.  My famous example of this is driving the speed limit.  How many of us only slow down when we see the flashing lights ahead of us?  How many of us only slow down when we see a DPS vehicle coming up from behind?  What motivates us?  Fear.  Is fear a healthy motivation for living in a relationship with another?  Of course it isn’t.  And so, if we are living in relationship with God in fear of being imperfect and only following the commands out of fear, then we don’t have a relationship.

    God realized this.  God realized that living by the law only led to fear on our part.  It only led to obedience by threat of punishment.  It was not healthy.  So God acted on His part to make things right.  God acted when we could not fulfill the law and would not fulfill the law.  While we were still living in our sin and disobedience, God sent Jesus into the world to live the life that we should live; to die the death that we deserved so that things might be made right between God and man.  God, took on human flesh in the divine man Jesus to die for the sins of the world.

    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 that the world might be saved through Him.

    And where did God die the death we deserved?  Where did God’s ultimate act of sacrificial love take place?  Where did God redeem you and me?  Where did God pour out His very life so that we might be made right with Him?  On the cross.  You were bought with a great price.  A great price indeed.  You were redeemed on the cross of Calvary.  This is why Friday was so good–so very good indeed.

    Yet, Friday would have not been so good if that was the end.  I mean, sure, we would have been reconciled to God, but then evil would have triumphed.  Death would have been the final say.  Injustice would have gotten the upper hand.  Perhaps I would be right with God, but then I would have no hope. 

    But that would not be the case.  That would not be the case at all.  For reconciliation with God now has a final result.  The earth shook.  The stone moved.  Jesus emerged alive!  It is a foretaste of the feast that you and I will share when we believe and trust in His actions!  For no matter what befalls us in this life–no matter if we lose a child; if we suffer from cancer; if we lose our savings; if we win the lottery; if we have a successful business; if we fall on our face or rise to new heights.  No matter if we experience loss or gain; God will have the final word.  God will have the final say.  God will bring life out of death; light out of darkness; hope out of despair.  This is the resurrection promise! 

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed!  Alleluia!

    And we must put the cross and the resurrection together.  We must see what God has done to redeem the world in Jesus’ life and death.  We must see what our hope is as Jesus rises from the dead.  These two belong together.  They cannot be separated, for in them we see the true nature of the Good News.  We see the true nature of the Gospel.  And it is meant to be shared.  The women in the book of Mark today ran and hid in fear.  They told no one.  I think you know the better response.  Tell the world what God has done in the cross and in the resurrection.

Christ is risen!
He is risen indeed.  Alleluia!  Amen. 

A Deep Struggle

9 He also told this parable to some who trusted in themselves that they were righteous and regarded others with contempt: ¹⁰‘Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax-collector. ¹¹The Pharisee, standing by himself, was praying thus, “God, I thank you that I am not like other people: thieves, rogues, adulterers, or even like this tax-collector. ¹²I fast twice a week; I give a tenth of all my income.” ¹³But the tax-collector, standing far off, would not even look up to heaven, but was beating his breast and saying, “God, be merciful to me, a sinner!” ¹⁴I tell you, this man went down to his home justified rather than the other; for all who exalt themselves will be humbled, but all who humble themselves will be exalted.’  Luke 18:9-14

It is a deep struggle to live by grace.  A deep struggle.

As I move through this Holy Week, several things are on my mind, and they have weighed heavily:

1. I received a phone call from a local nursing home.  The activity director was, as kindly as she could possibly do it, ask me to give up part of my afternoon on Easter to lead a worship service for the residents.  Another congregation scheduled to lead worship canceled on her.  "I know it's short notice, but..." 

"I will do it," I responded.

This is not the first Easter this has happened.  Once before this same congregation had canceled on this same nursing home.  The last time it happened, I was asked again.  I remember the occasion vividly as I was lovingly and gently reminded of my calling.

You see, I was quite angry last go round.  I was quite angry that the other congregation canceled.  I was quite angry about giving up my time.  I was quite upset that I felt obligated to go and preach.  There was quite a bit of righteous indignation on my part.  My heart was not exactly in the right spot because it was all about me.

And then one of my congregation members came up to me to visit.  I told her about my impending afternoon.  She smiled at me, and she said, "Someone needs to tell those people the good news, especially on Easter."

I was floored at that moment.  I won't say that my anger completely left or that I proclaimed the Good News of Jesus' resurrection out of a joyful heart that afternoon, but I did (and do) realize the Absolute Truth of my congregation member's words.  "Someone needs to tell those people the good news, especially on Easter."  Especially since many cannot get to church.  Especially since many have indeed spent their lives worshiping.  Especially since many of their families cannot bring them to worship.  They need to hear the Gospel!  They need to hear that Christ is risen!

There was no hesitation this year when I was asked.  "They need to hear the Good News.  I will do it."  I am looking forward to it, this time with joy.

But there is still a smidgen or more of anger toward that other congregation.  There is still a bit of righteous indignation.  Am I like that Pharisee pounding his chest and saying, "Thank God I am not like that tax collector."?  Perhaps I am, and it is not good.  Not good in the least.  For I have no room to boast like that.  I have no room to think that I am doing better or my congregation is doing better.  I am not.  We are not.  It's hard not to get angry.  It's hard not to be in contempt.  It's hard not to be self-righteous.  This morning on my walk, I asked God for forgiveness, for I sorely need it.

2. A friend posted a link on Facebook to a prominent blog by Mark Sandlin.  Without going into all the details, I will let you know that I disagree most vehemently with Mr. Sandlin.  It's not the first time. 

But I was and am very curious about how well the theology Mr. Sandlin promotes is accepted in my own denomination and in my own synod.  I asked for feedback on our syond's Facebook page.  The commentary was intriguing as I found a great many of my colleagues wrestling with the idea of why Jesus had to die on the cross. 

I am a proponent of the sacrificial atonement understanding of the crucifixion/resurrection.  This understanding of the cross permeates through the New Testament writings. 

It is Matthean.
It is Markan.
It is Johannine.
It is Pauline.
It is deeply ingrained in the book of Hebrews.
It is Petrine.

The idea of Jesus' atoning sacrifice on the cross seems, in a very real way, to tie all of the biblical witness together.  From Genesis 1 to Revelation 21, the entirety can be understood with extreme clarity by looking through the lens of the cross: that Jesus lived the life we should have lived, that He died the death that we deserved; He placed his perfect righteousness upon us that we may stand before God as accepted failures--blameless though we have sinned.  This is the reason we are justified by grace through faith in Christ Jesus.  Many of us who are Protestant can recite that particular verse from memory.  Yet, what follows?  What did Paul add right away?  These words: ²⁵whom God put forward as a sacrifice of atonement by his blood, effective through faith. (Romans 3:25).

As I wrestled with Sandlin's article and the responses given by my colleagues, my heart ached.  For it seemed as if we lost the centrality of that which gave us our core identity as a church--the Theology of the Cross; God's great act of salvation.  And once again, the wellspring of contempt and anger began to rise.  The wellspring of self-righteousness that "I've got it and you don't" began rearing its ugly head.

Ah, but I have no room to boast.  For I have spent the bulk of my ordained ministry failing to proclaim the Gospel.  I have spent the bulk of my ordained ministry failing to point to Jesus.  I have spent the bulk of my ordained ministry thinking Christianity was mainly about me and my actions and the actions of those who call themselves Christian instead of mainly about Jesus and His actions.  I am one, like Paul, untimely born.  I do not deserve to wear the collar or the stole.  How can I be contemptuous?  Because my heart isn't there yet.  My heart still has the Old Adam trying to pull it away from Jesus.  I asked for even more forgiveness.

For grace does not allow contempt.  Grace does not allow self-righteousness.  Grace shows definitively and demonstratively that all have sinned.  All have no right to claim moral superiority.  All have missed the mark.  All have corrupted and warped hearts.  No one is exempt.  Even those who proclaim the Gospel and know the Gospel and have a relationship with Jesus.  This is why we need a Savior.

This is why Jesus had to die.  We cannot escape being in bondage to our sin.  Someone has to free us.  Someone has to make things right.

Thanks be to God who gives us the victory through Jesus Christ.

In one way, it makes things so much easier.  I do not have to worry about justifying myself.  I do not have to worry about fulfilling the Law.  But it also makes things much harder--it means I must love those who are different from me in understanding and practice.  It means I must look at them as accepted failures as I am an accepted failure.  It means I cannot be contemptuous or self-righteous even if I believe I am right.  Indeed, it is a deep struggle.

Have mercy upon me, O Lord, a sinner!

Amen.

The Church Needs to Die

34 He called the crowd with his disciples, and said to them, ‘If any want to become my followers, let them deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me. ³⁵For those who want to save their life will lose it, and those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it.  --Mark 8:34-35

It is quite hard to believe that this July, I will be celebrating 15 years of ordained ministry.  Lots has changed in that 15 years. 

One thing that hasn't is a repeated mantra that I have heard over and over and over again at conferences, in sermons, and read in books:

The Church must change, or it will die!!!

Now, for the record, I once believed this.  I once believed it down to my very core.  I believed that the Church must always be reforming--and to an extent, it must always re-form.  But re-forming does not mean changing.  It does not mean examining our core beliefs and understanding and changing them to fit a culture or a context which has trouble understanding those beliefs and concepts.  There is a reason there is such a thing as apologetics!!!

Reforming, at least in the Church, is a process of going backward to go forward.  It is a process of returning to the basics of the Christian faith which propelled it forward in the ancient world.  It is a process of returning to the bedrock foundation of the Christian faith: we are saved by grace through faith in Christ Jesus who lived the life we should live and died the death we deserved to reconcile us unto God.

When this core statement, the Gospel, grasps the heart and the heart grasps it changes you to your very core and being.  For many years, I had heard the Gospel, but I never understood it.  I figured Christianity was best served by focusing on the Law--the doing; particularly loving God and loving one's neighbor.  How simple was that?  It should be relatively easy for everyone to agree upon that?  Right?

But it isn't.  Not in the least.  For loving God and loving the neighbor, while we can agree on the basics, is not easily fleshed out.  It is not easily applied, and it fails to address what is really wrong with the human heart.  

For while I might desire to love God and love my neighbor, more oftentimes than not, my heart centers on myself.  I only love God and love my neighbor in so far as they help me accomplish my goals and my desires.  Unless my heart is deeply affected or moved by the plight of another, I remain content to keep my business as usual approach to life.  And, here is the kicker, oftentimes I engage in loving God and loving my neighbor because "it makes me feel good."  It becomes all about me.

Most of the time, when we examine ourselves, it indeed becomes all about us.  It becomes all about what we want and we desire.  It becomes about how something makes me feel or about how something works to my advantage.  

Institutions are no different.  They may begin with all sorts of lofty goals and ideals.  They may begin with an outward focus, but before long institutional preservation becomes the order of the day.  This is especially true of the Church.  We spend a lot of time, effort and energy trying to get people to fall in love with the Church--of whatever denomination we are a part; of whatever congregation we are a part.  And if things start going south, we proclaim: the Church must change or die!  What is at the heart of this statement?  Self-preservation.

"For those who want to save their life..."

Yes, Jesus' teaching applies to the Church as well.  If we are interested in saving ourselves; if we are interested in preserving our institutions; if we are changing so that we don't die, we will do exactly that.  We will die.  A slow and painful death.

But there is a remedy.  

"Those who lose their life for my sake, and for the sake of the gospel, will save it."

Die now.  Die to self.  Die to what we want and what we think will save us.  Quit trying to focus on making people fall in love with us, and work to get people to fall in love with Jesus and His saving action.  Reform.  Return to the Gospel and let it change the hearts and minds of those who hear it proclaimed. 

The Church doesn't need to change.

It needs to die.

Politics, Subpoenas, Preaching: Houston, We Have a Problem

Well, not really.

Some of you may have read about the city of Houston issuing subpoenas to a group of pastors seeking all sermons, text messages, conversations, and the like regarding the city's non-discrimiation ordinance and its mayor.  Cue a firestorm of commentary. 

Some have proposed "rendering to Caesar the things which are Caesar's."

Others staunchly say the city has gone too far, and we must stand for religious freedom.

I'm not exactly sure either "side" quite gets it.

The American citizen in me wants to take a "stand" for religious freedom and ask my congregation to join in on November 2nd, but I ask myself, "Is this the way of Jesus?  Is this how the Church initially dealt with such matters?"

The Christian in me ponders such questions deeply, and I am not exactly sure quoting Jesus' "render to Caesar the things that are Caesar's and the things to God the things are God's" is the appropriate response.  The reason I have for this would fill another full blog post, so I won't jump into that here.  Perhaps more appropriate would be Jesus' teaching to His disciples as He prepares them for what is in store for them as they proclaim the Gospel:

"9 ‘As for yourselves, beware; for they will hand you over to councils; and you will be beaten in synagogues; and you will stand before governors and kings because of me, as a testimony to them. 10And the good news must first be proclaimed to all nations. 11When they bring you to trial and hand you over, do not worry beforehand about what you are to say; but say whatever is given you at that time, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit." (Mark 13:9-11)

Implied in Jesus' words is persecution.  You will be arrested (for that's what happens before they bring you to trial).   You will be jailed (that's what happens before they bring you to trial).  The authorities will not agree with what you are proclaiming (that's why most were arrested).  Use such things as an opportunity (not to demand religious freedom) to proclaim the Gospel.  The Holy Spirit will give you the words to say!  Testify (bring your testimony) before them!

Paul honed this to perfection throughout the book of Acts.  He was arrested numerous times, and every time he proclaimed the Gospel.  To the jailers.  To fellow prisoners.  To the authorities.  To the governors.  Mind you, he had broken the laws of the Roman Empire.  He practiced a religion which was not on the authorized list.  Confessing Jesus as Lord was undermining Caesar's authority as lord.  Paul could (and was) charged for sedition.  Paul never (that I can remember) begged for Christianity to be accepted.  Instead, he longed to preach the news of Jesus so that hearts may be changed.

He was martyred.  

So were a whole lot of others.  Which begs the question: how did they handle it?

They did not renounce their faith.  They did not file lawsuits trying to change the law.  They stood firm in their faith.  They sang songs of praise and worship.  They prayed that their captors may be forgiven.  They faced death--oftentimes singing praises at those moments--because they had a sure and certain hope of what was to come.  "Go ahead," their actions proclaimed, "take my freedom; take my income; take my possessions; take my life, for I know Who really is in charge."

There was no rendering to Caesar.  There was complete rendering to God.  

I think this same pattern was picked up during the Civil Right's Movement in our nation not too many decades ago.  I mean, it was within black churches that plans were laid, boycotts were organized, sit ins were planned, marches were put together; petitions were brought forward.  The ruling authorities were not happy with such measures, and they tried to put a stop to all of the movement to overthrow Jim Crow.  Arrests were made.  People were imprisoned.  And they stood on their faith.  They did not kowtow.  They did not stop organizing or working for the betterment of society.  They faced the authorities and proclaimed, "Thus sayeth the Lord!"  They were willing to face persecution and use it as an opportunity to proclaim their faith--a faith which led them to take a particular political position.

Just as I vehemently oppose Jim Crow (after the fact), I vehemently disagree with the city's actions to subpoena sermons.  But I also disagree with the fallout and commentary put forth by each side.

Indeed, it would be easy to simply hand over the sermons.  It would be equally easy to make a case for religious freedom.  It would be much harder to do both.  

If the law of the land is unjust, break it.  Do not hand over your sermons.  Be prepared to face the consequences.  Don't file a lawsuit using power to fight power.  Become powerless.  Be prepared to be brought before governors and the ruling authorities so that you may have an opportunity to testify.

Then, show where your true allegiance lies.  Proclaim the Gospel.  Share what God has done.  Go through the sum and substance of why Jesus had to die for the world and how a Christian seeks to follow God's ways even though those ways clash with the prevailing culture.  Show how God's incredible action through Jesus is based in love, and that no condemnation is being shown, but that one is seeking the good of the city because following God's will would be good for all.

I just don't see such things happening in Houston.  And maybe, if I weren't so insulated sitting in rural Texas, things would be different.  Maybe I would be jumping on either one of those two prevalent bandwagons.  And if I were subpoenaed, maybe I'd be wanting people to stand for religious freedom as well.  

But maybe not.  Maybe I would be looking at this as an opportunity to proclaim the Gospel.  For that is what any Christian, I believe, should long for--to proclaim as clearly and as unashamedly as possible what God has done through Jesus.

Only Once a Month?

I wish I would have saved the reference so I could note it in this blog post, but perhaps the reference isn't as important as the reality to which it pointed:

MOST FOLKS IN THE U.S. DEFINE THEMSELVES AS REGULAR CHURCH ATTENDEES IF THEY ATTEND ONCE A MONTH.

Sorry for shouting, but it's an important item to wrestle with.  I cannot remember if the article I read referenced PEW or Gallup, but the point is the same no matter who conducted the survey.

The majority of folks interviewed considered themselves regular church attendees if they attended worship only once a month.

This is quite different from a decade or so ago when regular church attendance was considered three or four times a month.  Now, it's only one, and even though I don't like it, it did jar me with my experience as a pastor even in rural Texas.  Even in my congregation, I think I can safely say a good chunk of people in my congregation fit this trend.

There are many things to wrestle with in regards to this trend.  I have already breached the topic with my staff, and will be visiting with the congregation council about this matter at our next meeting, but I hope to spend only a few moments bemoaning and griping and wondering why.  We can speculate and gripe and wonder 'til Kingdom come, and that does no good.  The trend is not only in Cat Spring, TX--it is nation wide.  The trend is caused by multiple factors, not by a simple cause and effect.  Deciphering what is "wrong" and trying to give it a quick "fix" will not happen--even though we like to think we are capable of "fixing" such matters or people.  What I hope to accomplish is get people thinking about the reality of church 1) if this is the trend and 2) what really must happen if the trend is to be reversed.

THE GRIPING

• First, just a few moments of bemoaning, griping, and wondering why.  In my estimation, there is little wonder the definition of regular worship attendance has slipped and is slipping.  Society has shifted from setting aside Sunday as sacred--a day of rest to focus on God--to a day of work for retail and service industries and recreation/play time for others.  No longer do most businesses shut down on Sunday.  The need for more profit drives them, and workers' religious affiliation be damned.  Folks who work in this area of society generally are living paycheck to paycheck, and they cannot afford to tell their bosses and supervisors, "I want to go to church."  When the choice is bring home less income and decide whether or not to pay utilities, basic needs will win out just about every time.  And as the sacredness of the day gets diminished by the god of money, so then other gods find it easier to chip away.  
• The gladiators of the ancient Roman Coliseum could not imagine the overwhelming draw of sporting events in our day and time.  A pastor friend has remarked numerous times, "Society shows you what is most important by the biggest buildings it constructs."  In the middle ages, it was the churches.  Then the universities became prominent.  Then the skyscrapers of business.  Now, the stadiums.  Sports offers all sorts of promises to parents and children.  Some of them are true, but a great deal are false.  Sports supposedly builds character, but I know from my own personal experience, it doesn't change a heart.  
• Our technological society doesn't help either.  More and more we "connect" to each other via electronic means of communication.  Even this blog and the posting of my sermons is a testament to this.  If I miss church, I can read and hear pastor's sermon online.  There is no need to really and truly attend.  I can hear/read God's Word right from my bedroom in my pajamas, and I don't have to deal with the messiness of human relationships.  (Hey, I can even skip putting a few dollars in the offering plate.  It's a huge win!!!)  

THE IMPLICATIONS

Are there more factors: absolutely, but I told you, I don't want to focus too much on griping.  Onto the implications--or rather, what are some major questions of implication?

1.  How in the world does a congregation run a Sunday School or youth program in such a cultural climate?   If regular attendance is once a month at worst (even that is stretching it for some) and two times at best, how can students learn much about the faith?   How can congregations with less than a certain amount of members find enough teachers who attend on a hyper-regular basis (3-4 times a month) to staff their teaching positions?   How can teachers build from one lesson to another if children are constantly missing--akin to teaching mathematics when a kid is present for simple addition and then next shows up for division?  Is it possible to have well attended monthly activities any longer?  What does the role of a youth director look like in such a society?  More of a program director?  More of a mentor?  More of a person who seeks kids out at home in the evenings?   Tough questions.
2. How in the world do people connect to one another and have a sense of fellowship and familiarity?  How do people become more than a gathering of strangers on Sunday morning?  This is a fresh question since a family in my congregation decided to pull their membership in favor of another congregation down the road citing a lack of feeling "connected."  It's not surprising.  They fell squarely into that "once a month" demographic.  Given that there are an average of four Sundays in a given month, when your once a monthers are spread out over those four weeks...there is no way you can ever be connected unless you associate with fellow church members at other times on a weekly basis.  Plus, it takes time...sometimes lots of time to connect.  I am embarrassed to say that I have had quite a bit of difficulty remembering a particular congregation member's name.  I keep getting confused between "Bob" and "Bill."  I am sure it is more than frustrating for him--and it is for me too; and the sad part is, Bill is no once a monther.  We need personal contact between one another to connect and have relationship--it's part of human nature.  When we consider ourselves regular attendees while only coming once a month, we shouldn't expect to feel connected.  We simply can't with this irregularity.  Makes being in community truly difficult.
3. How in the world do you put together a choir?  A bell choir?  A children's choir?  Getting individuals to sing shouldn't be a problem, but a group?  For the same reasons youth and Sunday School become problematic, so does choir and musical ensembles.
4. How do you have a united sense of mission and ministry when so few are truly connected to a congregation?  
5. How do congregation members care for one another if they do not know one another?  How does a congregation prevent pastors from becoming burned out since he/she is the only one who has direct contact with people on a regular basis?  (The same can be said for other church staff in their appointed areas.)

I am sure these are only the beginning questions of implication.  They are tough.  Really tough. 

THE SOLUTION?

Solving the "problem" goes far beyond logistics.  This is not something that can be cured by making sure a congregation is warm and friendly; or has a website, Facebook page, Tweets, podcasts its worship services and has the latest technology; or has great programs; or has a dynamic preacher; or has a central authority; or who focuses on the right doctrine; or so on and so forth.  This is not a problem which can be solved by a quick fix of tweaking something here or changing something just to be changing it.  It's not about trying harder and working one's self or one's congregation at a fever pitch.  Those will not change society.  Those will not change people's hearts. 

I am convinced only the change of hearts in people can make a difference.  I am convinced that unless the Gospel fundamentally changes people and leads them to be in a church community more often, we will, as congregations struggle mightily with this issue.  And the problem with this approach: it takes a lot of time before the Gospel affects this kind of change--a lot of time.

I am 40.  I can say that it is only in the past year that I have finally come to begin to truly understand the Gospel--that it isn't about what I do but what God has already done.  For so long, I was trying to justify myself and worship false gods.  I thought I would get a sense of satisfaction and wholeness through such pursuits.  You would have never, ever convinced me of this at the time.  I thought I was doing God's work.  I thought I was doing the right things.  I thought my priorities were in line.  I was and am a pastor, for heaven's sake!!

But I was wrong.  Dead wrong.  And I had to be fundamentally confronted with my sinfulness--my wrongheadedness before the Gospel could begin its transformational work.  That's started.  I know the Gospel's power.  I know it can change things and mightily.  But it takes time.  A lot of time, and with a huge chunk of people coming to worship only once a month, it will take an abnormal amount of time before change is affected.  Do we have patience? 

I hope so.

I hope so.

Russell Brand, Robin Williams, and the Gospel

I was not going to comment about Robin Williams' suicide.  Many have, and I have nothing to add to their commentary.  Much of what has been shown to me on my Facebook feed has been relatively well thought out, but none of it truly made me think deeply.

Leave it to the Drudge Report to link an article in The Guardian written by Russell Brand.  This article truly drew me in and made me wrestle because it links Williams' death with some of the big questions in life.

I didn't know much about Brand until I read his Wikipedia page--assuming Wikipedia is reliable here.  I found out he and Williams shared much in common.  Both are/were very much tortured souls.  Both, I think, struggle/d with some very tough questions regarding life.  From the article:

It seems that Robin Williams could not find a context. Is that what drug use is? An attempt to anaesthetise against a reality that constantly knocks against your nerves, like tinfoil on an old school filling, the pang an urgent message to a dormant, truer you.

Is it melancholy to think that a world that Robin Williams can’t live in must be broken? To tie this sad event to the overarching misery of our times? No academic would co-sign a theory in which the tumult of our fractured and unhappy planet is causing the inherently hilarious to end their lives, though I did read that suicide among the middle-aged increased inexplicably in 1999 and has been rising ever since. Is it a condition of our era?

...

What platitudes then can we fling along with the listless, insufficient wreaths at the stillness that was once so animated and wired, the silence where the laughter was? That fame and accolades are no defence against mental illness and addiction? That we live in a world that has become so negligent of human values that our brightest lights are extinguishing themselves? That we must be more vigilant, more aware, more grateful, more mindful? That we can’t tarnish this tiny slice of awareness that we share on this sphere amidst the infinite blackness with conflict and hate?

That we must reach inward and outward to the light that is inside all of us? That all around us people are suffering behind masks less interesting than the one Robin Williams wore? Do you have time to tune in to Fox News, to cement your angry views to calcify the certain misery?

What I might do is watch Mrs Doubtfire. Or Dead Poets Society or Good Will Hunting and I might be nice to people, mindful today how fragile we all are, how delicate we are, even when fizzing with divine madness that seems like it will never expire.

I found an echo of this thinking in his stand up show "God Complex" (warning: raunchy and quite blasphemous) when Brand said the following:

Why are they doing this to us?  Why are they positioning our heroes in these meaningless landscapes?  Why are they creating a cultural malaise in which nothing has nutrition; where our food lacks nutrition; where there's an emptiness in my stomach that can't be filled by drugs or fame or money?  Who is it that benefits from this system?  Who benefits from us having a void within ourselves that can never be filled?  Who is it that claims they can fill this void?

It is quite intriguing that Brand answers such questions in three ways: two in his article and one in his show.  1. Escaping by watching movies which have messages.  To enter stories.  2. To be nice to people mindful of our fragility and delicate nature.  3. Worshiping sexuality.

Unfortunately, none of these things satisfy.  None of them.  Show me one person who has had their hunger filled by entering into story after story after story and/or watching movie after movie after movie.

Show me one person who has become satisfied with being nice to people.

Show me one person who has become satisfied with having as many sexual encounters as possible.

They do not exist.  None of these things brings satisfaction, and they all lead to hopelessness.  There is always another story; another person who needs to receive some niceness; another encounter to be had.  There is always a desire which finds temporary fulfillment, but defies satisfaction.  If you place your self-worth in such things, you will only find disappointment.

But such things are the default setting for humankind.  These are the things we automatically search for.  Brand asks who benefits from this system?  (I'd not call it a system; I'd call it our selfish-nature.)  We all do.  We all seek our own benefit.  We all seek our own will to power as Nietzsche called it.  Our selfish gene dominates as Richard Dawkins would say.  And our selfish gene does not become satisfied.  Our will to power is never quenched.  And if that will to power is threatened; if our selfish gene becomes thwarted as our false idols crumble, what happens?

Despair.
Anger.
Frustration.
Hopelessness.
Escapism.
Depression.

What can bring satisfaction?  What can lead us away from the desires for our own will to power?  What can pound the selfish gene into submission so that it cannot dominate others or be easily exploited?

Only the Gospel.
Only God's action through Jesus Christ.

I have gone through this train of thought numerous times in this blog and in my more recent sermons.  I never realized just how the Gospel truly is the hope of humanity as I was caught up in my own will to power; my own selfishness.  I know I was on the path to despair and even hit a bit of depression.  The Gospel changed all that.

I know Robin Williams was a Christian, but I don't know if he grasped the power of the Gospel.  In his comedic routines, I'm not sure he did.  I think he saw Christianity as a set of rules and regulations.  I think Russell Brand does too.  In my estimation, this isn't good.  It shows a failure on the part of the Church to articulate what God has already done.  It shows the Church has been more concerned with advice instead of proclamation.

That proclamation brings lasting change and satisfaction.  It brings hope and peace and joy.

These are things much needed by the world.  Williams and Brand show us that unequivocally.