deep thoughts

Truth in Advertising

Frank

In the aftermath of James MacDonald’s recent Elephant Room, the focus has been on T. D. Jakes and whether he affirmed the Trinity rejecting his Oneness background, about whether Mark Driscoll pushed him hard enough, and that no one challenged him on the Prosperity Gospel. There were other sessions, or “conversations” however that are worth following up on that had nothing to do with the latest Internet-driven evangelical celebrity fracas.
One in particular caught my eye. “With a Little Help From My Friends” The session is described as follows:

Is there a future for denominations? Will networks simply replace them, or will they reinvent themselves? What can denominations offer that networks of churches cannot? Describe the health of world missions and missionaries as you see them serving around the globe. Is the model of sending missionaries through a mission agency still effective? Or is church planting through healthy churches the way to go? Is there a lack of accountability plaguing most missionaries? How can that be changed? How does para-church help or hinder the local church in world missions?

Of course there hasn’t been any controversy over this topic, so other than some random quotes I picked up on Twitter, I haven’t heard anything more about it. And that’s a shame, because this is a very relevant topic for our churches today.

Attendance in traditional denominations has been on the steady decline for a number of years (decades in some cases). Church planting networks, like Acts 29, are all the rage as are missional networks like Verge. In the meantime, American Christianity (TM) continues to follow the trends of megachurches, where a church is known more by the books the pastor sells than the doctrine they actually teach.

But is this anything new? In the 60s/70s the fear was campus ministries and other parachurch organizations were going to replace denominational churches. The campus ministry movement didn’t replace denominations, but instead forced them to evolve.

I’m personally interested in this topic as my own church, sprung out of a traditional denomination transformed by the campus ministry movement, recently shed its denominational structure in place of a “co-op” where churches maintain their autonomy, but there is coordination with respect to conferences, publications, and world missions. Sounds a lot like a network, doesn’t it? But is that the right model?

When I first came across Acts 29 I was intrigued by what they were doing. But it took a lot of digging to find out anything specific about their doctrine. At best I found out it was started by Driscoll, which led me to Mars Hill to dig into what they believe. Yet another case of a megachurch being known more for its pastor than its doctrine.

Consider the standard online “statement of faith” pulled from a local church:

  • The Bible came into existence through the inspiration of the Holy Spirit and is God’s complete revelation to man. It is inerrant and has supreme authority in all matters of Faith and conduct.
  • There is one living and true God, eternally existing in three Persons, The Father and The Son and The Holy Spirit. These three are identical in nature, equal in power and glory, have precisely the same attributes and perfections, yet execute distinct but harmonious offices in the work of providence and redemption. Deuteronomy 6:4; 2 Corinthians 12:14
  • God, the Father, is an infinite personal Spirit, perfect in holiness, justice, wisdom, power, and love. We believe that He hears and answers prayers and that He saves all who come to Him through Jesus Christ.
  • The Lord Jesus Christ is the eternal Son of God who became man without ceasing to be God. He accomplished our redemption through His death on the cross, and our redemption is made certain through His bodily resurrection from the dead.
  • The Holy Spirit came from the Father and the Son and convicts the world of sin, righteousness, and judgment. The Holy Spirit indwells every Christian, seals them until the day of redemption, and is our present Helper, Teacher, and Guide.
  • Man was created in the image and likeness of God but through sin became alienated from God, acquired a sin nature, and came under the judicial sentence of death.
  • Salvation is the gift of God offered to man by grace and received by faith in Jesus Christ as both Savior and Lord. Genuine faith will manifest itself in works pleasing to God.

But does that tell you anything? Would it describe your church? Chances are, it would describe any traditional church. Yet it doesn’t tell me whether they are Charismatic or cessationist, follow Calvin or Zwingli, are Reformed or Restoration.

You’re probably asking what does that have to do with the question above regarding denominations and networks? Personally, I think denominations are stuck in traditions- doctrinally and culturally, and are destined to die unless major changes occur. But… at least you know what you’re going to get. When I drive by a First Baptist Church, I know what that is. When I drive by a church called Spring of Life Church, I have no earthly idea.

But is the only value in a denomination truth in advertising? What do you think?

When’s the Swimsuit Competition?

Frank

Another day another debate. Another week another primary…

Is it too early to say I’m already burned out by this election cycle? Once upon a time, politics used to get my juices flowing. In the early days of this blog, I posted more about how our faith should intersect with our politics than just about any other subject. But now I read the headlines, follow the news, watch all the attack and advocacy ads and I’m left to say simply, “meh.”

Maybe it’s because none of the candidates particularly excite me. Or maybe it’s because there’s no hot-button issue to focus my attention on. But neither of those are true, I just don’t get as wound up over politics anymore.

Maybe I’ve become disillusioned and jaded. Cynical might be a better word. I admit that in watching these primaries and observing how the media treats the election cycle I’m expecting the swimsuit competition any time now.

Because isn’t that what this really is, a popularity contest to see who “looks the part”? I’m reminded of the story of Samuel anointing David:

“When they arrived, Samuel saw Eliab and thought, ‘Surely the LORD’s anointed stands here before the LORD.'” But the LORD rejected him.

“Then Jesse called Abinadab and had him pass in front of Samuel. But Samuel said, ‘The LORD has not chosen this one either.’ Jesse then had Shammah pass by, but Samuel said, ‘Nor has the LORD chosen this one.’ Jesse had seven of his sons pass before Samuel, but Samuel said to him, ‘The LORD has not chosen these.’” (1 Samuel 16:6,8-10)

If you know the story, you know I’m leaving out a key verse. I’ll get to that in a moment. But put yourself in Samuel’s shoes. He’s looking at each of Jesse’s older, stronger, more kingly sons expecting at least one of them to be God’s anointed. He was looking for the one who “looked the part”. Yet instead God chose young “ruddy” David who wasn’t even invited to this party and was left to tend sheep.

Why him and not his brothers? God answers, “Do not consider his appearance or his height… The LORD does not look at the things man looks at. Man looks at the outward appearance, but the LORD looks at the heart.” (v 7)

In politics, just like anything else, first impressions are made by how one looks and what one says. But God doesn’t look at any of those things. He looks at the heart. Imagine how different presidential elections would be if we judged the candidates based on their hearts? (Of course this assumes there could be some way to know.)

I trust the sovereignty of God in the selection of our political leaders. But I don’t trust people stained by the Fall to make a wise choice based on anything other than appearance. And because of that, I just can’t get excited about this election year.

How about you, are you a political junkie? How does your faith influence your politics? Do you find yourself judging more on appearance, or more on heart?

Martyr

Frank

When Osama Bin Laden was killed, the US government was quick to remove the body to bury it at sea. There were criticisms from one side fueling conspiracy theories that he wasn’t actually killed since no concrete evidence was ever provided. While critics on the other side noted that the Muslim religion required burial within two days.

A few months later, Muammar Qaddafi was killed during the Lybian uprising. His body was kept on full display, long after the two days their religion prescribed, for the Lybian people to see. He is now buried in an undisclosed location.

In both cases, their final resting place was kept secret so as to not become shrines. Critics have pointed out, in both cases, that these leaders should not have been killed but rather held on trial like ousted dictator Saddam Hussein. They argue that killing these leaders elevates them to martyrs, evidenced by how their burials were handled.

This isn’t a political post, but Qaddafi’s headline was fresh in my mind as I was reading about the stoning of Stephen in Acts 7, the first martyr of Christian Church. At the time, it could be argued that the Jewish leaders had enough; after warning the disciples to stop their blasphemy in the Temple and in synagogues, an example had to be made. A later verse stands out to confirm this: “But Saul began to destroy the church. Going from house to house, he dragged off men and women and put them in prison.” (Acts 8:3, emphasis added) I would expect their desired outcome would have been the disciples backing away in fear. I expect government and rebel leaders felt the same about Bin Laden and Qaddafi.

But the disciples did not back away nor did they back down. Acts 8 continues, “Those who had been scattered preached the word wherever they went.” (v 4) Martyrdom didn’t stop this religious revolution, it emboldened it.

Maybe it’s a stretch to compare these two brutal megalomaniacs with the first Christian martyr whose “face was like the face of an angel.” (Acts 6:15) But I think this example, not to mention others in history, prove that the critics have a valid point.

I Wish I Could Just Show Up

Frank

Once upon a time I just showed up. I didn’t think twice about it. In fact, if I did think twice it meant I probably wouldn’t show up at all. And it wouldn’t bother me a bit. Too hungover? Sleep in. Feel too guilty over the sins of Saturday night to show up Sunday morning? No problem, there’s always next week.

But then that all changed. One Sunday while in college, God’s Word spoke to me like it never had before. I knew at that moment I couldn’t turn back. I began to devour the Word. I would spend hours in Barnes & Noble flipping through every book on the shelf in the Christianity section. I started to listen to different preachers on the radio. Like a sponge, I absorbed everything I could read, see, or hear about how to live like Christ. I could no longer just show up.

I look around some Sunday mornings now and wonder if anybody feels the same as I did, or feels the same as I do now. When I reach out to another and they tell me they attend such-and-so church, I wonder if they are just showing up, or if they have a fire burning inside of them like I feel.

But I wish I didn’t feel this way. I wish I could just show up. I wish I didn’t care. Because the more I read the more I wrestle, and the more I wrestle the more I question. So I read more. And more. And more. I wish I could just show up, nod my head at whatever preacher-man has to say and close my Bible as I close the door of the church behind me.

As they say, you can’t un-ring the bell. I wish I didn’t care. I wish church was just religion and God was just an idea. Instead I now wrestle over theology that is way over my head. I wrestle over the tension between Gospel and Kingdom; between Paul and Jesus. I wrestle with the New Perspective of Paul and am curious about the Federal Vision. I am fascinated by the subject of soteriology. And yes, all of these are related.

That’s this week.

That’s why I blog. That’s why I read other blogs. That’s what keeps my faith fresh and keeps me ever-striving to learn what it means and how to be Christlike. If you’re a regular reader here, I expect you feel the same way. If you’re another writer, blogger, theo-thinker, I appreciate your unique perspectives and reflections. I thank both of you. We are growing together. Prayerfully, we are doing this as Paul described:

“… being built up until we all reach unity in the faith and in the knowledge of the Son of God and become mature, attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ. Then we will no longer be infants, tossed back and forth by the waves, and blown here and there by every wind of teaching and by the cunning and craftiness of people in their deceitful scheming. Instead, speaking the truth in love, we will grow to become in every respect the mature body of him who is the head, that is, Christ.” (Ephesians 4:12-15)

Coattails

Frank

Are you that guy? You know, that guy? The hanger-on. The coattail-rider. The member of the posse or entourage that just doesn’t look like you belong there?

I’m that guy. I look back twenty years to high school (sheesh! already?) and see myself not really fitting in with any one particular group, but finding myself showing up in just about all of them. That continued in college. I was a member of a fraternity, but not the face of the fraternity. Yet I always seemed to be around.

It’s funny to see this play out in my job as well. I just pop up here or there and the people who have gotten used to seeing me at miscellaneous meetings always have that look, “you, again?”. Even here on the blogosphere, I wouldn’t have many of the readers I have or even the friendships I’ve made if not for another blogger that I already (kinda) knew. (One funny example: one brother at church just got a book signed by Jon Acuff at a Dave Ramsey event. I’m like, hey I know Jon Acuff! But do I, really?)

In each of these, I display some level of popularity or importance, which may or may not be the view others have of me in reality. So what’s more important- my view of myself, or what others may or may not think about me?

While this sounds like an insecure rant, let me offer up an idea that might challenge you. You’re a nobody just like me. You are where you are, not because of anything you have done or ever will do, but rather because of what someone else did. You see, we are all riding on someone’s coattails.

“We have this hope as an anchor for the soul, firm and secure. It enters the inner sanctuary behind the curtain, where Jesus, who went before us, has entered on our behalf. He has become a high priest forever, in the order of Melchizedek.” (Hebrews 6:19-20, emphasis added)

We can enter into the presence of the Creator of the universe, the Lord of Lords, God Almighty only because Jesus went ahead of us first. Without Jesus, we are simply “by nature, objects of wrath” (Ephesians 2:3). Without Jesus, we are nothing more than sinners separated from God. But with Him…

Every blessing, every single source of joy, we owe to Him. We haven’t earned it. We have done nothing to give us credibility or popularity in God’s eyes. But because of Jesus’ love, we can ride on His coattails. We can be part of Jesus’ entourage.

Saint and Sinner

Frank

I haven’t kept track of the Liturgical Calendar for years, so I appreciate Shane Claiborne for reminding me that yesterday was the feast day for Saint Francis of Assisi. Of course all the animal blessings should have clued me in, but I don’t have a pet, and I’m not really into that sort of thing.

Though my Catholic background is well behind in my rear view mirror, I have kept a soft spot in my heart for St. Francis. Maybe it’s the name; he is after all, my patron saint. Maybe it is his background; I, too, was raised by a clothing merchant. Maybe it’s the animals; I’ve always been an animal lover. No, I never stripped down and walked out on my dad naked to prove a point. And as far as I know, I’ve never had stigmata (you’d think that’s something I would notice). I haven’t been imprisoned for my faith, nor have I made a thousand-mile pilgrimage by foot in order to try and convert someone.

So there are some differences between that saint and this sinner. But his life is one I want to imitate. As “missional” and “radical” are themes that have stirred my heart, I need to look no further than the life of Francis to see someone who was willing to eschew his social status in order to walk among the poor. He gave up everything to serve his Christ, whom he loved dearly. He literally lived out Paul’s instruction to “offer yourselves as living sacrifices, holy and pleasing to God.” (Romans 12:1)

The prayer attributed to him (though no earlier record exists before 1912) is one I still recite today. It is a simple reminder of what it means to be Christ-like – a reminder of where my heart needs to be today.

Lord, make me an instrument of your peace.
Where there is hatred, let me show love
Where there is injury, pardon
Where there is doubt, faith
Where there is despair, hope
Where there is darkness, light
and where there is sadness, joy.
Lord, grant that I may not so much seek to be consoled, as to console
To be understood, as to understand
To be loved, as to love.
For it is in giving that we receive
It is in pardoning that we are pardoned
And it is in dying that we are born to eternal life.
Amen

The Parable of the Boathouse

Frank

This can be Googled as “the Parable of the Lighthouse” or the “Parable of the Lifesaving Station”. Some attribute it to Theodore Wedel dating back to 1953, others attribute it to “author unknown” but adapted by Steve Rudd. And it also is a sample sermon in several guides and even published by Youth Specialties periodical Ideas. I heard this in a sermon years ago and have adapted it as I recall it being told- hence the change from Life-Saving Station to Boathouse. Either way, it is just as relevant today as it was when I heard it and as it was whenever it was written.

***

There was once a bay that was very popular amongst sailors. But it had dangerous, rocky shores. Yet because of its captivating beauty, many would sail in, only to meet their fate at the jagged rocks.

The most experienced sailors were saddened by this regular occurrence, but then boasted how they were able to navigate the treacherous waters. But then a young sailor came to the bay and asked to be taught how to sail through the dangerous bay. Teaching someone else their secrets never occurred to the old sailors, but one wise old sailor invested his time and his knowledge into this young seafarer.

As the young sailor learned, the wise old sailor also learned that he liked to teach. So he invited others to come learn the secrets of the rocky bay. Now this wasn’t popular with the other old sailors who wanted to protect the knowledge they learned the hard way, but it was very popular with younger sailors who had always wanted to visit this bay but were afraid to.

What once was measured by numerous tragedies was now measured by the number of lives saved. As the number of students grew, more and more people started to sail in and out of this bay. So the wise old sailor decided to build a boathouse, from which he could teach other sailors how to navigate these waters and also teach them how to save the lives of other sailors who were less fortunate. The boathouse became a popular gathering place for the sailors. And as its popularity grew, amenities were added. Big-screen TVs. Pool tables. A fully stocked bar. And it became such a popular place that many came to the boathouse not to sail or to save lives at all, but simply to hang out.

Eventually, the wise old sailor passed away and left the boathouse to the first, now not so young, sailor he taught. But the young sailor didn’t sail anymore. He was busy managing the boathouse making sure all his clientele were happy and well-fed and the boathouse continued to make money. Yet even though most who came to the boathouse didn’t sail, the bay was still a popular attraction, as was the boathouse, so many still attempted to sail in.

When once the number of casualties from the rocky shore was almost zero, the sailors in the boathouse stopped noticing that number creep back up to where it used to be. More, in fact, because now people were sailing in just to visit the boathouse.

But as more and more sailors died in the treacherous bay, fewer and fewer people frequented the boathouse because some of these casualties were from their own number. As the casualties increased even further, people soon began to avoid the boathouse altogether because they were sad over so many lost friends. It wasn’t long before no one came to the boathouse any more.

Today, people still sail in to the bay. Not for the boathouse, but for its natural beauty. Sadly, many of these sailors die in their attempt. More sad is the fact that there is no one left to teach them the secrets of the bay; the old sailors have all passed away and the young sailor had forgotten how to sail.

Where Were You?

Frank

It will go down in conversational history like the assassination of JFK, man first walking on the moon, or the fall of the Berlin Wall. If you don’t know how to start a conversation with someone but want to break the ice, simply ask “where were you on 9/11”?

Most of us were at work or on our way. At the time, I was waiting tables and had a late night shift the night before, so I was still in bed. My mom called to wake me up. I spent the rest of the day glued to the TV. When I did try and go out to grab a bite to eat, I saw that everyplace was closed.

There was a lot of fear that day. Would there be more planes? Would there be a “dirty bomb”? What would happen next?

So we vividly remember where we were that day. But do you remember where you were the day after? Alan Jackson’s song, Where Were You When the World Stopped Turning” talks about donating blood, kneeling to pray, helping in a soup kitchen, aiding relief efforts, and so on. But that was the day after. Do you remember where you were on 9/12?

I ask because it wasn’t 9/11 that changed everything, though it was the catalyst. It was 9/12. The day after. The next day where we had to decide how the events the day before would change how we lived our lives. I remember the night of the 12th. It seemed everyone was having candlelight vigils. There were special prayer services. There were rallies. And at each, people attended with a sense of unease and uncertainty. Some felt that if this meant an all-out World War-level conflict in the Middle East then we could very well be ushering in the end of the world.

It’s like the saying, “today is the first day of the rest of your life.” The 12th was the first day of the post-9/11 world. People who had stopped going to church returned. Faith came front and center in our national politics. We waved our flags a little higher and prayed a little deeper. Then the 13th, the 14th… But one year later, had anything really changed? Those who recommitted their lives to Christ were back home Sunday morning watching football. The faith-driven political divide deepened and antagonized many. Two years later were we better off? How about 10 years later? Can you honestly say you are living your life differently because of what happened 10 years ago? For the families of victims, for those serving in the military and their loved ones, and for those persecuted based only on their nationality or religion, yes their lives are very different today. But how about you? What is different for you?

I know you remember where you were on the 11th. But do you remember where you were on the 12th? Are you still there?

Helicopter or Drone?

Frank

By now school is back in session for everyone. The last wave started either yesterday or today following the Labor Day holiday. My kids started last week. My wife, this week.

The first day of school is marked by parents taking extra pictures while frantically making sure their child has everything ready. A certain type of parent, the “helicopter parent”, will even follow their child to school to make sure they get in the right classroom, get along with the right kids, and do all the “right” things. They watch to make sure Johnny isn’t picked last when teams are drawn up for kickball and make sure Sally is called on first when she raises her hand in class.

The name, helicopter parent, comes from the image of these parents hovering over their children in every facet of their day. I want to add another type of parent to our nomenclature- the drone parent (more catchier than UAV parent, I think). This parent also hovers, but not as close. Like an un-piloted drone, they hover high up where they can’t be seen, but are constantly on surveillance.

I admit, I’m a drone parent. We followed our children to school, took all the pictures, hugged each maybe just a little too long and watched as they went off to their class. But we didn’t leave. We stood back and we watched. How would our son respond to his new teacher? Which of his best friends are back after the summer and will be in his class? Unlike helicopter parents, who have a reputation of control, drone parents simply stand back and watch and respond to the data they receive.

But even that is too much. Watching other parents drop their children off last week- some helicopter, some drone, some “bombers” (drop the kids off and fly away)- it occurred to us that it didn’t matter how close we stayed or how much we watched. As other parents commented on which teacher was the best (and of course, their child had to be in that class) and which children were the worst, we realized that it all really doesn’t matter. Yes, it is important that our children receive a quality education. Yes, there are certain kids and some demographics that are obstacles to learning. But we are not dropping off our children to never see them again. They may spend more of their waking hours at school, but it is ultimately at home where they will learn the most. One teacher or one bad apple child in the first grade will not change the ultimate fate of my child.

So the drone has to fly back to base. We have to let them go. We have to trust that God is in control.

But Why?

Frank

What if you find yourself on the other side of the story? What if it was your baby who had to die so that another could live? What if you find yourself asking why?

Our whys could be losing a job, a spouse walking away, the tragic death of a child. Or your whys might be an ongoing struggle that will never change, no matter how desperately you pray.

My wife is a Special Education teacher. While her caseload doesn’t consist of the most developmentally disabled, daily she faces parents who deep inside are asking “why”. Six months ago one of her students shared the proud news of a baby brother being born. Unfortunately, this baby was born with just about everything wrong imaginable. He was hydrocephalus, blind, under weight, under developed, and under responsive. Collectively most babies in his condition would only survive weeks or at most a year. Naturally our heart went out to this family. Not only did they already have one special needs child, but they also lacked the means to fully take care of this baby. He requires frequent trips to LA for surgeries, check-ups, and other treatments. Without a car or any other means to make his appointments, my wife jumped in without hesitation.

This precious little baby was quickly accepted like part of the family. My daughter loves him so much she now wants a baby brother of her own.

At the same time we were struggling in prayer over my friend’s baby mentioned in my last post, we were also struggling in prayer over this baby. Do we pray that he will be healed? Do we even have that much faith? Do we pray that he finds peace and that God calls him home with no suffering? Do we pray for the family, facing this challenging circumstance? In the end, we simply pray that God’s will be done.

“As he went along, he saw a man blind from birth. His disciples asked him, ‘Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind?’
‘Neither this man nor his parents sinned,‘ said Jesus, ‘but this happened so that the work of God might be displayed in his life.’“ (John 9:1-3)

For all the reasons one could ask why: every tragedy, every adversity, every infirmary, every disability; maybe the answer is as simple as “so that the work of God might be displayed in your life.”

Why is Tyler suffering through his short life while AJ is blessed with a new life? I don’t have an answer, but I pray that God is glorified through both.