How often do we in the Church put up obstacles to God's Spirit?
Just dwell on that question for a minute . . . perhaps make it first person.
Last Sunday we visited a local church. Probably 2,000 people, give or take, go in and out of its doors on a typical Sunday morning. I'm tempted to offer description and commentary, but I'll just cut straight to the point.
As we were walking in the choir was singing a patriotic medley since it was Memorial Day--It was something like "God Bless America/My Country, 'Tis of Thee/God Keep Our Troops Safe While They Kill the Arabs". Okay, I'm exaggerating a bit; I don't think they sang "God Bless America". No joke, a cross in the background was literally draped in red, white, and blue banners.
Then they moved on to singing a song called "Revival Fire Fall" with such highly crafted lyrics as Revival fire, fall
Revival fire, fall;
Let the flame consume us
With hearts ablaze for Jesus,
Father, let revival fire fall.
Whatever happened to slant rhyme?
Now in all seriousness, I'm only criticizing (and perhaps mocking) in order to strengthen, not to tear down. Nevertheless, there exists a serious lack of artistic labor in much of our (contemporary evangelical) liturgy these days, and we may be paying a dearer price for it than we realize. Still, that's not my main point.
What struck me as I was standing there with 1,100 other people (they have two services) singing "Revival fire, fall" was the reality that if God really did, as one of the lines suggests, "fall on us here with the power of Your Spirit," the place would be rocked to its foundation. We simply cannot imagine the mind shattering impact God's Spirit would deliver if He really "fell on us here." And yet we sing such words with great aplomb, acting as though if we sing it, He will come. And there's the rub. As much as we'd like it to, just singing the words doesn't make it so.
I was genuinely sad and angry at the same time. I so long to be somewhere where our faith matters, where we believe in God and love Him so much that we literally fall on our faces in His presence. Instead, I sit in a church service that is ostensibly more focused on American military might than on God's omnipotence. I stand and sing with scores of others when none of us really grasp the levity of what it is we're singing about. And I'm just as complicit in all of it as anyone else is.
As I stood there thinking about it all, I realized that revival fire never will fall because we aren't meeting the prerequisites (the first of which is true repentance--I promise to discuss this in a future post)! We've constucted so many obstacles to God's Spirit actually having any sort of sway among us that we're as close to revival as we are to the Crab Nebula. Too many of our churches simply are not in any posture spiritually to receive the fullness of God's Spirit. If I may wax pessemistic--our spiritual glasses aren't even half-full.
To my relief, the pastor followed all this up with a word from God the likes of which I too rarely have heard. It was a passionate and crystal clear explanation and invitation to enter into the fullness that God has for us by His Spirit, and as the service concluded, I realized one thing. Just as that message stood at the center of that service like a fine jewel caked in mud and dirt, so too we in the church have too often mired the jewel of the Gospel of Jesus Christ with the mud and dirt of our own ignorance and selfishness. Week after week, we erect myriad obstacles which keep at arms' length our loving Father who, because He limits His own limitlessness in order to give us the freedom to truly love and worship Him, finds those obstacles insurmountable. In the end, it simply may be that our worship gatherings, indeed our churches, are more about us and less about the One that we claim them to be.
God forgive us.
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
Wind Energy
I'm a big proponent of conservation and alternative renewable energies. I think the United States ought to be leading the world in research and development in this area. But that's for another blog entry.
I just wanted to give everyone a good laugh, so check out this commercial for wind power.
I just wanted to give everyone a good laugh, so check out this commercial for wind power.
Thanks, President and Mrs. Roosevelt
I watched the story of President and Mrs. Roosevelt's life last night on the American Experience on PBS. I don't want to call myself a history buff (because I'm not), but the lives of those who lead or become leaders during difficult times always give me pause to think.
I believe that there exists an element of sacrifice of one's person to become a leader at that level, particularly when it comes to leading other people. From my observations, such people often end up being completely spent, washed up and worn out at the end of their task. It often takes a heavy toll on their health and their family. I would be hard-pressed to find many exceptions.
However, that's not what stood out to me the most.
President Roosevelt came to power just during the start of the Great Depression. Nearly a third of all able-bodied people were out of work. Families lived in shanty towns. Children went hungry and lacked any medical care. Millions lost their life savings. We've known nothing like it before or since.
Into this milieu comes Teddy, and with him comes the New Deal. In his first 100 days in office he introduced dozens of new policies providing instant economic, material, social, employment, and medical relief to millions. He dared to dream big, to believe that He could use his office to do something to help those who were hurting. And he did.
What stood out most to me, however, was the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. Propelled into a spotlight she never wanted, she nevertheless embraced it wholeheartedly. She began to travel the country extensively, to meet with the poor and destitute, to champion the cause of racial, economic, and gender equality. She became the personal face of the New Deal, and she relayed to her husband the harsh realities experienced by many Americans.
Observing this, it struck me how Kingdom-like this was. Here was a woman born into affluence, who resided in wealth and high culture her entire life, who now chose to move among society's dregs. She travelled tens of thousands of miles to be with hurting and lost people, to give them hope, to hear their stories--to show them love and compassion. Photos of her dining with poor families in shanty houses, talking with factory workers, and serving in soup kitchens, gave hope to and inspired millions of her countrymen and women. It reminds me of the kind of company Jesus kept during His earthly ministry.
I so long for a church like that--a church that actually reflects the racial, economic, and culturual realities of our society. Instead of a milquetoast whitebread church, I want to worship in an environment of human diversity, of fearlessness, of hopefullness, of active love. Call it utopian, call it idealistic, call it a pipe dream--I call it the Kingdom of God.
So, each day, I'm praying and asking God to help me to know how to grow this church. President and Eleanor Roosevelt's story inspired me and put into images and words the longings within my own spirit. My greatest challenge at this point now is making reality those longings and inspiring others to join.
Upon his death, President Roosevelt's body travelled by train from Georgia to Washington to New York for burial. The images captured on film show millions of people lining the tracks as his railcar passed by. Men and women wept, children clung to their mother's skirt, and all mourned the loss of a man (and woman) who had given them hope in a time of hopelessness.
I believe that when someone lives in a way reflective of God's Kingdom, that countless persons will be drawn to the hope and love they find there.
Lord, help my life and church exemplify your Kingdom. Amen.
I believe that there exists an element of sacrifice of one's person to become a leader at that level, particularly when it comes to leading other people. From my observations, such people often end up being completely spent, washed up and worn out at the end of their task. It often takes a heavy toll on their health and their family. I would be hard-pressed to find many exceptions.
However, that's not what stood out to me the most.
President Roosevelt came to power just during the start of the Great Depression. Nearly a third of all able-bodied people were out of work. Families lived in shanty towns. Children went hungry and lacked any medical care. Millions lost their life savings. We've known nothing like it before or since.
Into this milieu comes Teddy, and with him comes the New Deal. In his first 100 days in office he introduced dozens of new policies providing instant economic, material, social, employment, and medical relief to millions. He dared to dream big, to believe that He could use his office to do something to help those who were hurting. And he did.
What stood out most to me, however, was the First Lady, Eleanor Roosevelt. Propelled into a spotlight she never wanted, she nevertheless embraced it wholeheartedly. She began to travel the country extensively, to meet with the poor and destitute, to champion the cause of racial, economic, and gender equality. She became the personal face of the New Deal, and she relayed to her husband the harsh realities experienced by many Americans.
Observing this, it struck me how Kingdom-like this was. Here was a woman born into affluence, who resided in wealth and high culture her entire life, who now chose to move among society's dregs. She travelled tens of thousands of miles to be with hurting and lost people, to give them hope, to hear their stories--to show them love and compassion. Photos of her dining with poor families in shanty houses, talking with factory workers, and serving in soup kitchens, gave hope to and inspired millions of her countrymen and women. It reminds me of the kind of company Jesus kept during His earthly ministry.
I so long for a church like that--a church that actually reflects the racial, economic, and culturual realities of our society. Instead of a milquetoast whitebread church, I want to worship in an environment of human diversity, of fearlessness, of hopefullness, of active love. Call it utopian, call it idealistic, call it a pipe dream--I call it the Kingdom of God.
So, each day, I'm praying and asking God to help me to know how to grow this church. President and Eleanor Roosevelt's story inspired me and put into images and words the longings within my own spirit. My greatest challenge at this point now is making reality those longings and inspiring others to join.
Upon his death, President Roosevelt's body travelled by train from Georgia to Washington to New York for burial. The images captured on film show millions of people lining the tracks as his railcar passed by. Men and women wept, children clung to their mother's skirt, and all mourned the loss of a man (and woman) who had given them hope in a time of hopelessness.
I believe that when someone lives in a way reflective of God's Kingdom, that countless persons will be drawn to the hope and love they find there.
Lord, help my life and church exemplify your Kingdom. Amen.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
To All the Skeptics
Many of you who know me at least somewhat well, know that I believe it is highly probably that a North American ape (a.k.a. sasquatch, a.k.a. bigfoot) actually exists. (For some interesting reading on the subject, you can check out the BFRO, especially the FAQ section.) Not more than a few of you have expressed great incredulity about the subject.
Well, it seems our neighbors to the north may know something you don't. Recently, the fine people of the Vancouver British Columbia 2010 Winter Games announced that they have adopted the sasquatch, affectionately known as Quatchi, as one of their mascots for the Olympics.
And so I say to all you doubters: Now who's the joke on?
Well, it seems our neighbors to the north may know something you don't. Recently, the fine people of the Vancouver British Columbia 2010 Winter Games announced that they have adopted the sasquatch, affectionately known as Quatchi, as one of their mascots for the Olympics.
And so I say to all you doubters: Now who's the joke on?
Thursday, May 08, 2008
Monday, May 05, 2008
Reap What You Sow
I read an article on Slate magazine today called "Pop Goes Christianity" by Hanna Rosin. Reading it would probably throw at least 50% of American evangelical Christians into a tailspin. Read it here and enjoy the ride.
I've lived in a Christian bubble most of my life. When I tell someone about my religious upbringing I feel a bit like the apostle Paul when he called himself a "Pharisee of Pharisees." I've graduated from a Christian college, seminary and post-grad university, worked for a Christian denominational headquarters as an editor of Sunday School curriculum, served as a youth and worship arts pastor, and on and on.
And it's not that I think that's all wrong, or wrong at all. I'm glad for those experiences and certainly don't take them for granted or fail to recognize that God opened the doors for me to those places throughout my life's journey.
Still, Ms. Rosin's article feels like a splinter in my religious finger, and I thank her for pricking me there. There's no denying that her observations and critiques are fairly accurate; she's not caricaturing modern American evangelical Christians. Rather, she paints a disturbingly life-like portrait of us albeit from a particular angle--that of our Christian sub-culture or Christian pop-culture. (To glimpse at the subject she's questioning, simply walk into any Christian bookstore and take a good gander.) This subculture we've created for ourselves she aptly describes as "like coming across another planet hidden somewhere on Earth where everything is just exactly like it is here except blue or made out of plastic."
And here's where I think she's spot on: She asks, "Isn't there something so thoroughly wrong with commercializing all aspects of faith? . . . What does commercializing do to the substance of belief?"
What does it do indeed?
I preached a sermon once in which I poked fun at just the sort of thing she's decrying. I asked how the heck a box of test-a-mints or a Thomas Kincaid bible (or some of my favorite pieces of Christian kitsch--You go Jesus!) bring us any closer to God (let alone aid us in sharing our faith). There was consternation on the part of more than a few to be sure. Yet the question still remains: If we as Christians have so cocooned ourselves in our own synthetic universe, how are we to reach out and touch the real (albeit fallen) world with the reality of Jesus Christ? And let me be the first to admit, I'm a lot better talker than I am doer.
Jesus employed the metaphor of salt to describe those of His kingdom--the Kingdom of God (Matt. 5:13). Salt alone on your tongue stings, it bites, it's that strong. It makes bland food desireable. It preserves meats left to cure in it. It heals wounds. The kind of crap our Christian pop-culture produces is more akin to sugar than salt. It's sweet on the tongue. Satisfies temporarily. Eventually it leads to corpulence and decay.
Sometimes I think we're (myself included) living so far from the Kingdom of God that we're not going to be able to find our way back when we wake up and come to our senses. We look and taste and behave nothing like salt. We have become high fructose corn syrup!
Forgive my french, but why in the frick would anyone want to be a Christian when they look at the sanitized culture, our ersatz faith? Seriously. Or closer to home, what about it makes me want to continue on my journey with Jesus? Why have so many of us verged on giving up on our faith or even walked away altogether?
In his letter to the Christians in Galatia, Paul warned (in the good ol' KJV), "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting" (6:7-8).
What in God's name are we sowing these days?
Kyrie Eleison. Have mercy, Lord.
I've lived in a Christian bubble most of my life. When I tell someone about my religious upbringing I feel a bit like the apostle Paul when he called himself a "Pharisee of Pharisees." I've graduated from a Christian college, seminary and post-grad university, worked for a Christian denominational headquarters as an editor of Sunday School curriculum, served as a youth and worship arts pastor, and on and on.
And it's not that I think that's all wrong, or wrong at all. I'm glad for those experiences and certainly don't take them for granted or fail to recognize that God opened the doors for me to those places throughout my life's journey.
Still, Ms. Rosin's article feels like a splinter in my religious finger, and I thank her for pricking me there. There's no denying that her observations and critiques are fairly accurate; she's not caricaturing modern American evangelical Christians. Rather, she paints a disturbingly life-like portrait of us albeit from a particular angle--that of our Christian sub-culture or Christian pop-culture. (To glimpse at the subject she's questioning, simply walk into any Christian bookstore and take a good gander.) This subculture we've created for ourselves she aptly describes as "like coming across another planet hidden somewhere on Earth where everything is just exactly like it is here except blue or made out of plastic."
And here's where I think she's spot on: She asks, "Isn't there something so thoroughly wrong with commercializing all aspects of faith? . . . What does commercializing do to the substance of belief?"
What does it do indeed?
I preached a sermon once in which I poked fun at just the sort of thing she's decrying. I asked how the heck a box of test-a-mints or a Thomas Kincaid bible (or some of my favorite pieces of Christian kitsch--You go Jesus!) bring us any closer to God (let alone aid us in sharing our faith). There was consternation on the part of more than a few to be sure. Yet the question still remains: If we as Christians have so cocooned ourselves in our own synthetic universe, how are we to reach out and touch the real (albeit fallen) world with the reality of Jesus Christ? And let me be the first to admit, I'm a lot better talker than I am doer.
Jesus employed the metaphor of salt to describe those of His kingdom--the Kingdom of God (Matt. 5:13). Salt alone on your tongue stings, it bites, it's that strong. It makes bland food desireable. It preserves meats left to cure in it. It heals wounds. The kind of crap our Christian pop-culture produces is more akin to sugar than salt. It's sweet on the tongue. Satisfies temporarily. Eventually it leads to corpulence and decay.
Sometimes I think we're (myself included) living so far from the Kingdom of God that we're not going to be able to find our way back when we wake up and come to our senses. We look and taste and behave nothing like salt. We have become high fructose corn syrup!
Forgive my french, but why in the frick would anyone want to be a Christian when they look at the sanitized culture, our ersatz faith? Seriously. Or closer to home, what about it makes me want to continue on my journey with Jesus? Why have so many of us verged on giving up on our faith or even walked away altogether?
In his letter to the Christians in Galatia, Paul warned (in the good ol' KJV), "Be not deceived; God is not mocked: for whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to his flesh shall of the flesh reap corruption; but he that soweth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting" (6:7-8).
What in God's name are we sowing these days?
Kyrie Eleison. Have mercy, Lord.
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