A few months ago, a friend of mine had a beautiful baby boy. Beautiful, but in critical condition. He had a bad heart. After some time in NICU, the doctors concluded he would need a transplant. Upon hearing this news, and seeing his picture, my heart melted. All things considered, my kids are perfectly healthy. Yet I knew what my friend was feeling. I put the call out for prayers and immediately hit my knees.
Another friend later approached me and told me she had a hard time praying for this baby because she knew that if he got a new heart, then another baby had to die. I had the same feeling. In fact, the night earlier I had a dream where I was in the OR and it was my baby on the operating table. In came the doctors wheeling in another baby. I was told, “just say the word, and we’ll pull the plug and your baby will be healed.” I couldn’t make that call. Yes, it would save my baby, but I couldn’t sacrifice another. I quickly woke up in tears.
I then talked to my friend. Turns out that there was a heart available the weekend prior. But the heart was too large. The kicker? The donor was a baby who had just drowned. I was shattered when the reality hit that another baby had to die so that this baby could live.
But I was reminded of another baby who had to die so that others could live.
“Jesus replied, ‘The hour has come for the Son of Man to be glorified. Very truly I tell you, unless a kernel of wheat falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it produces many seeds.‘” (John 12:23-24)
Another baby did die a little more than a week later. My friend’s baby got a new heart. He’s now home, healthy, happy and loved. But there is another home that is a little more empty right now. Yet I’m confident that it wasn’t just this baby who got a new heart. I did too and I pray so did the family that is now one less.
Not enough time this morning for a full-blown post regrettably. But here are some other posts worth steering your attention towards.
Don’t forget about this week’s Blog Carnival, being hosted by my friend Peter Pollock. This week’s topic is “fences“. When I think fences, I think neighbors. And there’s no worse neighbor than the one who hides behind his fence and doesn’t interact with the rest of his neighborhood. That’s me. If you participate in the carnival and I haven’t commented on your post, that doesn’t mean I haven’t read it. I do most of my blog reading offline since I’m firewalled off from much in the blogosphere. I want to be a better neighbor, though. Just trying to figure out how in the schedule I have.
While I wrestle balancing career and ministry, needs of the day and passions for the future, a I related to a couple other bloggers recently. Johnathan Keck asks if we are destined to specific careers while Jay Cookingham considers a slight change of course to his writing passion.
This blog started off with more of a mix of politics in with our discussion of civil religion but I’ve drifted away from that lately. But both Carl Jones and Get Religion have write ups on the late Senator, Mark Hatfield, and how he bucked the trend of most Conservative Christians which made him hard to label.
Finally a post I should print out and frame because it hits on so much that I struggle over, Don Edelen has a terrific post on the visibly increasing divisions within American Christianity (TM). If you click on no other link above, I encourage you to click on this one.
All for now. Hopefully I can get more time to hash out some more thoughts later.
The second chapter of Unleashed, titled Kaleidoscope by Daryl Reed, discusses the need for racial diversity in our churches. That’s something I’ve always admired in our family of churches. The most common reaction from visitors is surprise at the diversity of our congregation. I don’t say that to boast, only to point out that our racial diversity gives us diversity in cultural perspective. For example my wife just learned some cultural norms regarding Latin families that helped explain an issue that came up in a Bible study. What is interesting is how some of our cultural habits affect not only our relationships but also our relationship with God. For some of us, it’s a pressure that we have to be perfect. For others, it is patriarchal roles we feel we need to fulfill. Yet the diversity in our churches, when put together in unity in Christ, overcomes these traditions to create a beautiful mosaic.
The same is also true in denominational diversity. “Non-denominational” is a popular evangelical marketing term that only means you’re not a part of a larger governing body over your church, but it says nothing about your doctrine or your historical tradition. True non-denominationalism is when the only thing that unifies is not doctrinal agreement, but the single standard of the Word of God. This diversity was evident in another Bible study my wife and I were having. Looking around the room, and talking about our religious backgrounds, it became clear that every one of us came from a different brand of “Christianity”. But we were able to put aside our personal traditions when faced with the truths found in Scripture. The study was filled with, “I used to believe ____ but then I studied it out for myself and found that ___.” Just as the multicolored mosaic creates a beautiful picture of unity in Christ, so does the mosaic formed by our unique religious traditions.
Daryl Reed notes that racial diversity is necessary in our churches for the sake of reflecting those to whom we are called to spread the Gospel (“every nation” or ethne in the Great Commission) and to reflect the unity Christ compels us to that overcomes any racial barrier. The same holds true for our doctrine. Carl Medearis makes this point in a recent CNN belief blog article. His point is that our evangelism should not be focused on converting to a specific doctrine, but rather to lead others to Jesus. It is in Him alone that we are saved into a single, unified body. This is not ecumenism or inter-denominationalism, for those do not create unity within walls but rather sweeps issues under the rug as “non-essentials”. Instead, this is taking our experiences as a whole and examining them through the lens of the Bible and the example of Christ’s own life.
If our churches can overcome racial divisions in the name of Jesus then we can unite under the banner of Christ alone.
“There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)
“Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as you were called to one hope when you were called; one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.” (Ephesians 4:3-6)
Warning! Do not continue to read if you are not doctrinally and politically open-minded!
I was recently reading about another blogger’s baptism and it got me thinking about my own. I remember friends standing out in the cold (I was baptized in February in a creek) praising God and embracing me. I remember my “good confession”. And of course I remember the frigid water. I was raised religious, considered myself a “good person”, and had many doubts about whether I even needed to do this. But as I stood in that cold water I was overcome by sense of peace and resolve. I knew I was going to be raised up from that water a new creation filled with the Holy Spirit. But I wasn’t expecting what would happen while I was under the water.
Naturally at a time such as this, when so many eyes upon me taking such a momentous action, thoughts flooded my mind. Thoughts of family and friends, thoughts of sins encouraged and sins rejected, thoughts of what may happen next. And as I was dunked under the water all those thoughts rushed through my mind, much like my life flashing before my eyes. I’ve heard similar accounts from others after their baptisms, some more vivid than others. But each experienced some kind of “life flashing before your eyes” in a very spiritual while also very real sense.
Ok, so maybe you’re uncomfortable with my putting so much spiritual weight on a “sacrament”. I’m not going to get into any doctrinal or theological debates on this subject right now, but I want you to be in the same frame of mind I was in.
I was encouraged by these thoughts, and they continued through the day. I even had the above song (or at least the quoted verse) playing over and over through my head. Until lunch when I read an article that included the video below. Now here’s your warning. The subject of the article? Waterboarding.
Ok, maybe I’m a little crazy relating baptism to waterboarding. But like I said, this was my frame of mind. So as I watched the following video I was thinking about what must have been going through his mind. As I was immersed under water, unable to breathe, spiritually sacrificing my life, the above thoughts and feelings flooded over me. Imagine having a towel placed over your head and water poured over you. But instead of peace, you feel panic, instead of your spiritual life flashing before your eyes, your physical life passes before your eyes in the very real sense that this may be the end. In both cases, it is the end of your life as you’ve come to know it.
Christopher Hitchens brings up a good point in this interview- if you have some “intelligence” to share, you feel a sense of overwhelming betrayal, and if you don’t, you have no hope because there would be no end to the flood. So I wondered how a Christian, at peace with his or her convictions and looking forward to a home that is not of this world, would react to waterboarding (remember, Hitchens is an atheist). But at the same time, wouldn’t a Muslim feel much the same way? It’s not as if their convictions are weaker. And while they don’t practice baptism in the Christian sense, they do practice ceremonial washing (much like in the Jewish faith on which baptism is derived) called Ghusl.
I guess my point is, the feelings of drowning and claustrophobia induced by waterboarding may remind one of baptism or Ghusl, but it does not end. You are not brought back up. Peace is replaced by panic. Yet, does a “true believer” respond differently than a non-believer? If you have no hope going in, I would expect the feeling of hopelessness. But what about Christian martyrs who suffered joyfully under all sorts of torture? Should we expect any different from a Muslim who is firm in their faith? It just seems to me, in hindsight after watching this video, that this method of torture wasn’t well thought out. But that’s just me.
I want to add that I’ve been blissfully ignorant about all of this. Yeah, I’d hear about this on the news and see it dramatized in movies, but I’ve never given it a second thought. This video was made two years ago. I saw it yesterday.
I recently went on a business trip, driving after work six-plus hours through the night to get to my destination. Driving through the night can be intimidating. There are no streetlights with only the moon to light the sky. And it is lonely with only the occasional fellow red-eye driver on the road. Not to mention having to fight off sleep and keeping the mind from wandering too far.
Along this long stretch were few signs. And as the miles and hours passed, the signs to guide the way seemed further and further apart. My inner-clock deceived me into thinking that I have been driving longer than the many times I had been on this road before. I began to feel insecure. Did I miss a turn? Did I miss a sign? At night I couldn’t see any landmarks to guess at my location or even determine my direction, and I was too tired to trust the miles rolled off my odometer. I just had to have faith I was on the right road, heading the right direction.
Life doesn’t have signposts. We’re not given directions in advance. And we’re often too prideful to stop and ask for directions. Am I on the right road? Am I going the right direction? I think I’ve been down this road before.
“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it.” (Matthew 7:13-14)
The road following Jesus is narrow. It may be scary to look over the ledge while carefully navigating each switchback as you climb closer to heaven. But you are safe. There aren’t many other cars on this road, but you’re not alone. Thankfully, you don’t have to make this drive in the dark of night. You can follow the light ahead of you. And you don’t have to know the way. Jesus isn’t your co-pilot, he’s your GPS.
This post is part of a blog-carnival hosted by Peter Pollock. Our theme this week is “road“. Check out other contributors for more road-wise posts.
A couple of weeks ago I transplanted a tree. In my head the chore seemed simple enough- dig up the tree, dig another hole (3 times the size of the root-base of the tree), drop the tree, add potting soil/fertilizer mix, top off with the dug up grass, wipe the sweat from my brow, call it a day. It didn’t exactly work out like that.
I don’t have a green thumb. I’m 3.5 for 7 successful in planting trees at my house. The half is for the tree I transplanted. I’m not ready to call it a success, but it’s not yet a failure. It wasn’t dying. But it wasn’t growing either. Where I live, the ground is mostly clay, so it takes some work to get things to grow. This tree’s roots couldn’t spread and it wasn’t getting enough water. Fill in your favorite agriculture reference from your Bible:
He (the one who delights in the law of the Lord) is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither. (Psalm 1:3)
Some fell on rocky places (or clay), where it did not have much soil. It sprang up quickly, because the soil was shallow. But when the sun came up, the plants were scorched, and they withered because they had no root. (Mark 4:5-6)
Since this tree didn’t have much root, digging it up was the easy part. The trouble came digging the new hole. I knew it would have to be big, and that I’d have to fill it in with better soil than was there to begin with. What I didn’t expect was how hard it would be to dig up the grass.
Grass gets a bad rap in the Bible. It quickly withers (Psalm 37:2, Ps 90:5-6, Ps 102:4 & 11, Ps 103:15-16, Ps 129:6, Isaiah 5:24, Is 15:6, Is 37:27, Is 40:6-8, Jeremiah 12:4, 1 Peter 1:24), is compared to the wicked (most of the same refs as before plus Psalm 92:7), and is thrown in the fire (Matthew 6:30, Luke 12:28, Revelation 8:7).
Yet it is the go-to popular ground-covering for our homes. Why? Because they’re weeds. They don’t require a ton of water, their roots entangle which preserves the soil from eroding or blowing away, and it is easy to plant.
It’s the entangling roots that got me thinking. The hardest part was digging through this dense network of roots. The top layer of grass was a single piece. I couldn’t just dig with my shovel and toss aside whatever came up with it. I had to literally cut out pieces of grass of manageable enough size to lift, and then dig my hole. Ok maybe that’s obvious to the rest of you, but it wasn’t to me.
Back to that network of roots. Isn’t that how God wants us to be? Sure, we get the illustration of the tree planted by water. But I live in a desert and when I see trees like that, they are usually standing alone. But grass is plentiful. It spreads. And each blade depends on the others. Alone they are frail, but a five-foot across circle is strong (and heavy!).
You will know that your children will be many, and your descendants like the grass of the earth. (Job 5:25)
Let grain abound throughout the land; on the tops of the hills may it sway. Let its fruit flourish like Lebanon; let it thrive like the grass of the field. (Psalm 72:16)
When you see this, your heart will rejoice and you will flourish like grass (Isaiah 66:14)
(A rare Saturday post to participate in the Rally to Restore Unity being hosted by Rachel Held Evans, author of Evolving in Monkey Town. When I first heard about this from other bloggers I follow, I thought “hey, that’s cool” but didn’t go check it out. I finally did take a look yesterday, and wow! There’s a lot to digest there, but it’s all worth reading. I don’t agree with everyone, but that’s kidna the point. On with the show…)
When I was converted in a campus ministry I left behind the traditional, religious experience of most of my life. It was hard. Harder, was knowing that there were good friends of mine who I knew sincerely loved God and Jesus but, in my new found convictions, were way off-base. I felt like Paul lamenting over his people:
“I have great sorrow and unceasing anguish in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were cursed and cut off from Christ for the sake of my brothers, those of my own race, the people of Israel. Theirs is the adoption as sons; theirs the divine glory, the covenants, the receiving of the law, the temple worship and the promises. Theirs are the patriarchs, and from them is traced the human ancestry of Christ, who is God over all, forever praised! Amen.” (Romans 9:2-5)
Then I read Jesus prayer in John 17 and this became my new prayer: “God, I pray for all who believe in you through your Son, that we may all be one just as You and He are one, so that the whole world may believe.” (v 20-23) Well God answers prayers in funny ways.
Not long after I started praying this prayer I started to see fliers around campus reading “Do you agree with Rachel?”. The next day, the same question written in sidewalk chalk. And this continued for week or so before the signs were updated with a date, the next Saturday. The next phase of this viral campaign (before there even was such a thing!) was t-shirts that others started wearing around campus. But the message again changed. On the front the t-shirt read “Do you agree with Rachel?” and on the back it read “Rachel believes in Jesus Christ, the Son of God, who died for your sins and rose again three days later.” No denominations. No direct tie to any campus ministry (though one of the more prominent ones was behind it). Unity under one message: the Gospel of Jesus.
At the time there was a lot of competition between different campus ministries for numbers and reputation. One group would tell incoming freshmen not to go to another group. The larger groups would intentionally schedule devos and events on top of smaller groups to take away their membership. And gossip, lots of gossip (you wouldn’t believe what what’s her name got away with in that group!). Rachel simply wanted it to stop.
I met Rachel before anyone knew who she was, or what we were even agreeing with. My small group co-leader and I had a nice conversation with her one day at the food court. Here was a girl that I could tell struggled under the weight of Jesus’ prayer in John 17. Who loved Jesus so much she was willing to risk her reputation for him. Who was grateful to meet other believers who felt the same way she did. Of course I didn’t know she was behind the campaign. It never even occurred to me to put two and two together (her name was Rachel, duh!). But I walked away from that conversation thinking, “there’s someone who gets it” while at the same time hoping she’d come and check out my campus ministry because it was obviously better than all the others.
Of course when word got out who Rachel was and what her message was going to be there was significant backlash on this liberal campus. Jesus was mocked. Teachers who wore her shirt were suspended (separation of Church and State and all that), and she was openly persecuted.
When I found out who Rachel was I smiled and thanked God for answering my prayer. Then I skipped her rally because my church had something else going on that was more important.
Yesterday’s post by Mike Ellis reminded me of my kids’ Easter egg hunt. I was chasing our son while my wife was herding our daughter. All the while I was worried either of them would make a mess of the clothes they were wearing.
I wonder if my parents felt the same way when I was that age. Of course you have to dress up at Easter. For many kids, it is likely the only time they will have to wear a suit. Yet we’re released into the wild only to scuff our shoes, mash grass stains onto our knees, and tumble head over heels to get that last egg. I wonder how many curse words my parents might have said in their heads (or out loud!) as they watched me ruin my Easter best.
Honestly, I wrestled with the thought as I dressed my children Sunday morning. I’m not big on dressing extra spiffy for Sundays, but I do want to at least look nice. Yet Easter added that extra pressure. As I’m picking out the usual clothes a voice in my head kept saying, “but it’s Easter!” And my stubbornness would reply, “but there’s an egg hunt!” I expect many other parents shared in that same internal battle.
Why is that so? Yes, Easter is one of the “Big Two” church services that people feel compelled to attend every year, regardless of whether they are regular pew-fillers or not. But what sets it apart to make it so special? Shouldn’t we be celebrating Christ’s resurrection every day, not just an arbitrary Sunday set by the phases of the moon?
I admit, I came to church Sunday looking forward to a great show. I’m glad I didn’t get it. Not to say it wasn’t a great worship service, it was. (One of my best friends is the worship minister, please don’t take this personally!) But it wasn’t the dog-and-pony show so many churches put on for Easter. The sermon wasn’t extra “fluffy”, full of platitudes about Jesus’ love, but rather what we’d expect any Sunday- challenges on how to live like Christ and lessons to be learned from His sacrifice. The songs were nice and there were a couple of soloists to mix things up a little, but that was it. It was just like any other Sunday. And looking back (and looking at the grass stains on my son’s pants) I’m glad it was.
There are times I want to just walk away from this blog and never look back. Times I’m discouraged that some things never seem to gain traction, other times I’m discouraged that I can’t spend as much time as I want on it. Admittedly my posting has been sporadic at best recently. I just made it through my “busy season” at work and I followed that up with a nice relaxing vacation. So maybe I’ll fully get back in the saddle… or maybe I won’t. But you’ll still find something up here to provoke thought, challenge, and hopefully encourage. Thank you for being patient, whether waiting for follow-up posts that haven’t come, or guest blogs that I haven’t delivered, I appreciate your readership.
So why the lament? Well a couple of things I read last week caught my eye and stirred my heart. The first is this tweet from Paul Washer (tried to do the twitter blockquote, but the text doesn’t show):
Why do so many young men spend time blogging about theological nuances while the world dies without the Gospel? Why?
Then there’s this blog post from Dad Edelen at Cerulean Sanctum: How Would Jesus Blog? I agree with every point of his and I refuse to contribute to the increasing vitriol and hate that is spewed in the name of Christ.
Interestingly, this hate sounds the same regardless of which side you’re coming from politically. I may of written about this before. If not, I’ve certainly thought it. But Get Religion nails it, comparing Westboro Baptist with the Reverend Jeremiah Wright.
So what do I glean from all this?
This blog is just electrons on a screen unless I’m actively doing something. (This is an ongoing struggle for me)
I will do everything I can to approach topics in a non-denominational, non-partisan way. My doctrine and politics spill out every now and then, but I assure you that both are rooted not in the particular name of a church or political party, but in the Word of God.
The election cycle is about to heat up again, so expect to see the return of more posts. Also expect to hear about me putting more of what I write about into practice. Hopefully you’ll hear about the latter sooner rather than later.
Careful, Rob Bell knows you’re reading this post! Last week I blogged my obligatory Rob Bell Love Wins post bringing up the ongoing debate over whether he espouses universalism and adding a wrinkle to the discussion. Moments later, my email account spammed all of my contacts. Then later someone tried to break into my house. Seriously. Coincidence? I think not! That’s some serious marketing strategy right there. Actually, I’m not sure whether to blame Bell or Kevin DeYoung, because my link to his magnum opus review of the book redirected to an ads.doubleclick site. Hmmm maybe it’s the Gospel Coalition covering their tracks to make me think it was Bell? Diabolical!
So I removed the post, changed my passwords, and updated my privacy settings. I’m also not hyperlinking anything on this one, in case all the bugs aren’t worked out yet. And no, I don’t really think the events of last Friday had anything to do with Bell, his book, or my post. The spam I blame on the hotel computer I used before I caught my flight home. The attempted break-in was simply because someone noticed that I hadn’t been home in a week. Not too hard to figure that one out.
Anyway, I took the post down but I still want the discussion. I don’t count myself in the universalist camp, yet I can see some of the arguments. The discussion I wanted to raise draws our attention to Jesus’ completion of the Old Covenant through his crucifixion. To quote from my deleted post:
If we contend that the God of the Old Testament and New Testament are the same (some argue He is not) and Christ is the completion of the Old Covenant, then we need to go back to that Covenant to put Christ’s sacrifice into its proper perspective. My argument is this: if Christ is the sacrificial lamb, the ultimate sacrifice, and that he died for one and all, then aren’t all of our sins forgiven given the Old Covenant? (see Romans 3:25, Hebrews 2:17, and 2 Corinthians 5:14) Isn’t that, after all, the point of Jesus’ sacrifice? Under the Old Covenant there were no prerequisites for faith in the lamb in order for that lamb to be offered up for one’s sin. So if Jesus died for all of our sins, shouldn’t everyone’s sins be forgiven?
If our sins are forgiven by Christ’s sacrifice, then does not the shedding of his blood save everyone? And if this is the case, then what is the point of the resurrection as it relates to our salvation?
I have my own thoughts on this, but I’m interested in what you think.
Under the conditions of the Old Covenant, Jesus’ sacrifice should atone for all of our sins, therefore all of our sins are already forgiven independent of faith in Christ. If so, what then, does the resurrection mean?
