To be the church, you have to be the church

During our time in British Columbia, the governing party—a socialist labor party called the New Democratic Party—held a leadership race.  The provincial premier, a deeply unpopular little mountebank called Glen Clark, had a neighbor and friend who was under investigation for running an illegal gambling operation.  Said neighbor was also a contractor who had built a sundeck for the Clarks at their main residence and another at their vacation home.  Together, they added up to about $10,000 worth of work.  When the news broke that Clark was the subject of a criminal investigation, he abruptly resigned from office.  (He would be indicted on two felony charges; he was ultimately acquitted on both counts, though not without being admonished by the judge for his bad judgment.)

The race to succeed Clark was a circus, as BC politics tended to be, and produced some truly funny moments. One of my favorites came from the Agricultural Minister, Corky Evans.  Evans had a country-bumpkin image which he liked to play up for comic effect. In announcing his candidacy for party leadership, he told the story of the time he had decided to build a house for his family.  Being impatient, he hadn’t wanted to take the time to put in a foundation, so he just built the house right on the ground. It seems to have come as a surprise to him when the house began to sink. As he told the crowd, this left him with two choices:  either tear down the house, or lift it up and put a foundation under it. Either way, it was going to be a very messy business.

Corky Evans used this to describe the state of his party, but it applies just as well to the church.  There is and always has been the tendency to try to build the church with, on, and out of human efforts.  Some churches are built with music.  Some are built on the charisma of the leader.  Some are built out of programs.  Some are built by spending lots of money on advertising and entertaining Sunday services.  All of these are accepted methods for church growth.

The problem is, to build a church in such a way is to do what Corky Evans did:  it’s to build a house without a foundation.  If you try to build a church on the most popular music, or the most entertaining preaching, or the most exciting service, or the best structure, or any other worldly foundation, you may appear to succeed for a time.  You may well produce a large organization that has lots of members and money and a high profile in the community.  What you will not have in any meaningful sense is a church, and so it will not endure.  Sooner or later, it will begin to sink, leaving you with only two options:  either tear the whole thing down, or try to lift it up and put a foundation under it, because without the proper foundation the building cannot stand.  As Paul says in 1 Corinthians, the only foundation on which the church can be built is Jesus Christ.  It must be built with the truth of who Christ is and what he taught if it is to last.

(Excerpted from “The Glory of the Truth”)

 

Photo:  Foundation framework and reinforcing steel for 150-ton permanent cableway hoist house.  United States Department of the Interior, 1933.

Keeping victory straight

I’ve argued before that the Christian life is lived in the victory of the gospel.  Life in Christ is the victory of Christ overcoming the sin in our hearts by the power of his Holy Spirit.  If we don’t understand that, we end up with a vision of Christianity that amounts to little more than being nice, moral people and upstanding citizens who work hard and go to church regularly.  On the other hand, if we misunderstand it, we’re likely to think Christianity means “your best life now.”

We often run into trouble with biblical words like “love” because we unreflectively assume they mean what the world uses them to mean.  “Victory” is no different, and so there are plenty of peddlers like Joel Osteen around to tell us that God has promised us worldly victory full of worldly rewards.  That’s dangerously wrong.  The victory of Christ in us isn’t our victory for our purposes, it’s God’s victory for his purposes.  He has shared it with us not for our glory but for his own.  His victory is not about us getting what we want, or making us look good, or keeping us from hard times and pain—no matter how much we want it to be.

For me, the great exemplars of this mistake continue to be the pastors who prophesied in the fall of 2008 that John McCain would win the election.  They were so sure they knew what God’s victory had to look like, they were willing to stand before a microphone and declare their vision to be God’s vision.  When they were proven wrong, it shook their faith, because they had more faith in their own ideas about how things had to be than they did in God.  They thought Sen. McCain would be a better president than Barack Obama, and they thought that was all that mattered.  They might well have been right on the first point, but that’s not the victory God intended—and we don’t get our victory, we get God’s.

Again and again, we name our agenda as God’s agenda.  We think that God’s glory requires that we get rich or that our church have more people.  We forget that America is not the kingdom of God to which we pledge our highest allegiance.  We assume that God’s victory has to mean the fulfillment of our own worldly ambitions.  Inevitably, we’re disappointed.  As long as we keep making that mistake, we’re going to keep meeting those disappointments, because we’re going to build up expectations that have nothing at all to do with what God’s actually on about.  God may be intending to do what we want him to do; then again, he may not.  Even if he is, it might not come the way we expect it to come, or look the way we expect it to look.  He doesn’t promise to fulfill our expectations, he promises to glorify his name, and what glorifies him in our lives isn’t always what we think of as glorious.  Sometimes it even means our suffering.

(Excerpted, edited, from “To the Glory of God”)

 

Jan van Eyck, The Ghent Altarpiece:  The Adoration of the Lamb, 1425-29.

Suffering and the glory of God

One of the uncomfortable truths of the Christian life is that it’s often in our suffering that God is most glorified in our lives. John Piper captures this well in this full-throated assault on the so-called “prosperity gospel”:

God wants us to know, even in moments of the deepest agony our hearts could ever conceive, that he is enough for us.  He wants us to be able to affirm, even through tears and pain, that he is good and he will take care of us.  As Piper says, it is that more than anything else that makes God look glorious “not as giver of cars or safety or health” but as God, because that shows his real power in our lives.  The gods of this world can give us prosperity, though they are hard and demanding and fickle and can take it away again just as quickly.  They cannot sustain us in times of pain.  Only God can do that, and so only our times of suffering fully show the reality of our faith to a skeptical world.  As Howard Vanderwell of the Calvin Institute for Christian Worship put it in discussing 1 Peter 1:1-9, “God had in mind to use [our trials] as an exhibit of genuine faith.  The exhibit of such genuine faith lifts others, defeats the schemes of Satan, and brings glory to Christ.”Read more

A crisis Pope for an age in crisis

Elias Isquith of Salon recently interviewed the Rev. Dr. Chris Hedges, the Minister of Social Witness and Prison Ministry at Second Presbyterian Church of Elizabeth, NJ (PCUSA), the author of several books, and a former reporter for the New York Times.  Hedges is sounding a clarion call of warning which I’m interested to hear coming from a self-described socialist.  When Isquith asked him, “Do you think we are in a revolutionary era now? Or is it more something on the horizon?” Hedges responded,

It’s with us already, but with this caveat:  it is what Gramsci calls interregnum, this period where the ideas that buttress the old ruling elite no longer hold sway, but we haven’t articulated something to take its place.

That’s what that essay I quote by Alexander Berkman, “The Invisible Revolution,” talks about.  He likens it to a pot that’s beginning to boil.  So it’s already taking place, although it’s subterranean.  And the facade of power—both the physical facade of power and the ideological facade of power—appears to remain intact. But it has less and less credibility.

There are all sorts of neutral indicators that show that.  Low voter turnout, the fact that Congress has an approval rating of 7 percent, that polls continually reflect a kind of pessimism about where we are going, that many of the major systems that have been set in place—especially in terms of internal security—have no popularity at all.

All of these are indicators that something is seriously wrong, that the government is no longer responding to the most basic concerns, needs, and rights of the citizenry.  That is [true for the] left and right.  But what’s going to take its place, that has not been articulated.  Yes, we are in a revolutionary moment; but maybe it’s a better way to describe it as a revolutionary process.

Read more

The battle belongs to the Lord

President Obama declared on national TV that “we have contained [ISIS]”; within hours of the broadcast, ISIS struck Paris, following hard on the heels of attacks in Beirut and Baghdad.  Burundi, which not so long ago was sending peacekeeping forces to Somalia, is descending into a whirlpool of violence and nightmare.  It’s easy to look around at the world and wonder, “Where is the hope?”Read more

Faith and the “New Atheists”

I am—as anyone who spends any time poking around this blog can surely tell—a committed believer in Jesus Christ.  Some days, I can also call myself a committed disciple of Jesus Christ; some days, not so much.  As Andrew Peterson wrote in “The Chasing Song,”

Now and then these feet just take to wandering;
Now and then I prop them up at home.
Sometimes I think about the consequences—
Sometimes I don’t.

Still, for all my failures in living it out, I’m committed to the walk.  I’m committed because I believe Jesus spoke truly when he told his disciples he is the way, the truth, and the life.  I believe the people of God, from our founding in Abraham all the way through to the church of today, have been given the only true account of the existence of the material world, and the only true account of human existence.  I don’t think any one branch of the Christian tradition has a perfect or complete understanding of that truth, and still less any individual believer; the fact that each of us is both limited and sinful ensures that our best understanding will be both incomplete and flawed.  I believe God uses even those flaws to his own purposes.

I’m absolutely committed to Jesus because I believe that faith in him is true, even if my faith in him is only imperfectly true.  If anyone could prove to me that the Christian faith is false, I would abandon it.  That might seem like a hard right turn to some, but it isn’t; I want to believe what is true, not what is congenial.  That’s why I’m still a Christian after forty-plus years of life and twelve-plus years in the pastorate.Read more

The threat of idolatry in worship

The Devil hates it when we worship God. Any time the body of Christ gathers to give God glory and hear the gospel preached, the Devil loses, and so he’ll do anything in his power to keep us from worship. On an individual basis, he’ll try to prevent it by convincing people not to come, but that doesn’t work on everyone.  For all the Devil’s best efforts, a lot of people do still show up on Sunday mornings. So what’s he going to do? Yes, he’s doomed to fail, but he’s going to take as many people as he can down with him, and we should never underestimate his cunning. If he can’t keep us from worship, he’s going to try to neutralize our worship.  He will do everything he can to turn our hearts away from our Lord by tricking us into worshiping someone or something other than Christ.

Tim Keller pointed out at the Gospel Coalition conference back in 2009 that we all have idols and temptations to idolatry.  Whether it be our spouses, our kids, our reputations, our jobs, or our possessions, anything that’s truly meaningful to us and that truly matters in our lives can become so important to us that it takes God’s right and proper place in our hearts. The congregation we attend can become an idol, as can our denomination or religious tradition. So can our nation and our patriotism. For many churches, style of music is a major idol, while for others, the chief idol is their building.

These are all good things which we rightly love and value. We ought to love our families and our churches.  It is right that we love our nation and thank God every day for blessing us to live here.  We should value the work he has given us to do. It’s good to love music, which is a wonderful gift from God, and naturally we will prefer some styles of music to others. But every last one of these things must—must—come second in our hearts to God.  We don’t need to love them less, but we need to love Jesus Christ more than any of them. Our first and foremost desire should be to serve and honor and glorify him by giving him pleasure; our love for all those other people and things should fall in order behind our love for him.  Our worship needs to be directed to God and God alone.  For the sake of our souls and the souls of others, we cannot afford to let anything else creep in.

(Excerpted, edited, from “To the Glory of God”)

 

Photo © 2009 Wikimedia user Wattewyl.  License:  Creative Commons Attribution 3.0 Unported.

Let all the thirsty come

“Come, everyone who thirsts, come to the waters;
and he who has no money, come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk without money and without price.
Why do you spend your money for that which is not bread,
and your labor for that which does not satisfy?
Listen diligently to me, and eat what is good,
and delight yourselves in rich food.
Incline your ear, and come to me; hear, that your soul may live;
and I will make with you an everlasting covenant,
my steadfast, sure love for David.”

—Isaiah 55:1-3 (ESV)

Contrary to what we might have expected, this invitation and this promise are offered to people who were already outwardly members of the people of God. The nations aren’t excluded here—the invitation is given to all who are thirsty—but there’s no explicit summons to them, either.  The invitation is framed in terms of what God did in and for David. The point, which Isaiah has been making all along, is clear: though Israel has heard the law, and has heard the prophets, and they have all kinds of head knowledge about God, that hasn’t translated for them into any kind of real relationship with him. They consider him their God because they’re Israelites and he’s the God of Israel, and doesn’t everybody in this country worship God?—but many of them haven’t answered his invitation. Some probably haven’t really heard it before. They haven’t learned that there’s more to their faith than just being a faithful templegoer.

Indeed, there’s far more. The challenge to us of Isaiah’s expansive invitation is—do we still need to hear it? Have we really accepted it, or are we no different than the Israelites? In this country, it’s very easy to be a Christian, and that means there are a lot of folks who are outwardly Christian for all the wrong reasons, with no inward reality, no real faith in Christ. The church has to shoulder a lot of the blame for that, of course, because there are a lot of churches in this country that don’t give people God’s invitation, that don’t challenge people with the call of the gospel; it’s easier not to, after all, easier just to give people what they already know they want to hear. Even for the church, it’s easier to serve junk food.

Despite all this, underneath and through it all, God’s invitation still goes out: “Come, all of you who hunger and thirst; come to me, that you may live.” And we need to ask ourselves: have we really done that, are we really living in God? Or do we still need to accept it?

(Excerpted, edited, from “The Invitation”)

 

Photo:  Elakala Waterfall 1© 2006 ForestWander (http://www.ForestWander.com).  License:  Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 United States.

Remembrance Day

Remembrance Day

In your fine green ware I will walk with you tonight
In your raven hair I will find the Summer night
Upon far flung soil I will run you through my head
In my daily toil all the promises are said

For I know the weary can rise again
I know it all from the words you send
I will go, I will go, I will leave the firelight
I will go, I will go, for it’s now the time is right

Chorus:
I will sing a young man’s song
That you would sing on Remembrance Day
I will be the sacrifice
And bells will ring on Remembrance Day

I must leave this land and the hunger that is here
But the place I stand is the one I love so dear
Like a flower in some forest that the world will never see
I will stand so proud for I know what we can be

For I know the weary can rise again
I know it all from the words you send
I will go, I will go, I will leave the firelight
I will go, I will go, for it’s now the time is right

Chorus

This day I will remember you
This way I will always return
This day I will remember you
This way I will always return

Chorus out

Words and music: Stuart Adamson
From the album
The Seer

Over the Hills and Far Away

Here’s forty shillings on the drum
For those who volunteer to come,
To ‘list and fight the foe today
Over the hills and far away

Chorus:
O’er the hills and o’er the main
Through Flanders, Portugal and Spain
King George commands and we obey
Over the hills and far away

When duty calls me I must go
To stand and face another foe
But part of me will always stray
Over the hills and far away

Chorus

If I should fall to rise no more
As many comrades did before
Then ask the pipes and drums to play
Over the hills and far away

Chorus

Then fall in lads behind the drum
With colours blazing like the sun
Along the road to come what may
Over the hills and far away

Chorus out

Words:  John Tams / Music: traditional English folk song
From the album Over the Hills and Far Away:  The Music of Sharpe

 

Photo:  Tombe du Soldat inconnu, 2007 Leafsfan67.  Public domain.