How to Live in Babylon

The NT writers (namely Peter and John) used the image of “Babylon” when speaking of the struggle of living for Christ in the midst of the Roman Empire (1 Pet 5:13; Rev 17-18). I take that to mean that they saw their struggle to not be too dissimilar to the Jews’ experience in exile. This connection is further strengthened when we look at the images of Daniel 2 & 7, which link Babylon and Rome on a continuum of nations opposed to the work of God (that John not only takes up the “Babylon” but also uses the image of beast is also significant)

If we as Christians in America can find significance and application in the relationship of the 1st Century Christians to Rome, and the 1st Century Christians found significance and application in the relationship of the exiled Jews to Babylon, then we can use the experience of the Jews in exile in Babylon as a framework for how to interact with the nation in which we are in “exile” (albeit a very difference kind of exile). Let’s make this simpler: Babylon = Rome = America (as far as application goes, not fulfillment – I’m NOT saying that America fulfills any sort of prophetic oracle, I’m only saying that we can find application in these 1st Century texts for us today).

So. . . all of that to ask this: what was the relationship of Jews to the Babylonian regime? And, what is the significance of that to the question posed by my last post (and subsequent replies from very able students)?

First, it was not one of complete separation from the political arena. Daniel was employed by the king, as was Nehemiah. Esther indeed married the king. If we look back further into OT history, we find Jacob’s son Joseph as 2nd in command of all Egypt. With this in mind, it seems strange to suppose that God desires the people of His Kingdom to be utterly and completely isolated from the worldly political sphere.

Second, it was a relationship that sought the “prosperity and peace” of the kingdom they lived in. Jeremiah’s letter to the exiles is helpful here:

“This is what the LORD Almighty, the God of Israel, says to all those I carried into exile from Jerusalem to Babylon: ‘Build houses and settle down; plant gardens and eat what they produce. Marry and have sons and daughters; find wives for your sons and give your daughters in marriage, so that they too may have sons and daughters. Increase in number there; do not decrease. Also, seek the peace and prosperity of the city to which I have carried you into exile. Pray to the LORD for it, because if it prospers, you too will prosper.’” (29:4-7)

God’s first command to humanity, to be fruitful, multiply, fill the earth, serve and subdue the earth (in short: bring Eden to the whole world) is still in effect. How do we seek the prosperity and peace of America? Does that include voting for measures that stop people from creating life simply to then destroy it? Does that include voting and even working for people who want to serve the people by building better schools and roads and who work for peace around the world? I think it does.

But here’s the other side: what is precluded in the relationship of God’s people and the state is the worship of the state. S, M, and A refused to bow down to the idol. Daniel would not give up his prayer life after it was made illegal. John had to endure exile and the death of 11 Apostles (including his brother) because they taught that Jesus was kurios and “Son of God,” not Caesar. God’s 1st commandment applies just as much as His 1st command. We shall not have “other gods” (like the “will of the people”). We shall not worship the nation.

This then leads to a difficult point of application: what constitutes the “worship” of the state? Does a “God and Country” worship service on the 4th of July weekend cross the line? Should we expel all U.S. flags from places of worship (and especially stop pledging allegiance to that flag in our VBS’s)? To me, there is a major difference between a simple act of public involvement, like voting or serving on a jury, and the examples above, which to me do cross the line (or at least blur it beyond all recognition).

I shouldn’t be surprised at the reaction of students to this blurred line between God and State that they’ve experienced in conservative churches (though it isn’t any better in mainline churches – just different issues). In many ways, I appreciate their prophetic call to stop burning incense in Caesar’s temple. But, if I may be a tad Hegelian here, is there a synthesis to be found between the 2 extremes, one that acknowledges a God-given responsibility to His created order (which includes the fallen political sphere) but refuses to give full and complete “allegiance” to anything but Yahweh? I hope there is. I’m striving (and struggling) to live that way.

Why I Vote, I Guess

I’m too cynical to believe that my vote actually matters. I realize that my .0001% of the state-wide vote isn’t going to swing the election one way or the other (even if I lived in Florida). Plus, it’s exceedingly hard to pick a candidate these days. The “lesser of two evils” option doesn’t really motivate me anymore. Either I pick the candidate of abortion-on-demand and higher taxes. . . or I pick the candidate of the right to buy assault rifles and who took millions in campaign contributions from CEO’s who got $100 million golden parachutes while defaulting on his employees’ pension plans.

And on top of that, I keep reading books and articles about how evangelical Christians shouldn’t be in lockstep with the GOP (and how mainline churches shouldn’t be with the Dems). And I agree. Jesus didn’t come to earth and inaugurate the Kingdom of God so that conservatives could have a 5-4 majority on the Supreme Court or to save us from socialized medicine. So, who would Jesus vote for? Or, would Jesus vote at all? Maybe the most important question is: what in the world is the church doing here anyway?

Paul tells us to respect the government and pay our taxes. Peter tells us to honor the king. I guess, at the very least, that means that wherever the Church is – the Church actually has to be there, doing all the things one does when he/she is in one place, including paying taxes, serving on juries, and voting. If Peter and Paul called the Church to be good residents in a tyrannical empire, do you think they would ask less of those who live in a representative democracy? So, while the Church should do more about the evil of abortion than go to the polls and vote (like actually care for teenage mothers-to-be), it shouldn’t do less than go to the polls and vote. Even if it’s difficult to choose who/what to vote for.

So I’ll be going to my polling place tomorrow. I’ll probably leave some votes blank because I don’t know the issue/candidates well enough, and may even cast a third-party “protest vote” or two. But I’ll go, because Christ compels His Church to make His Voice heard any way we can – even a mark on a slip of paper.

But God help us if that’s all we do.

Why Joel Osteen Ticks Me Off

Here it is in a nutshell: Because my best life will never be now!

Ultimately, it's Osteen's eschatology (or, more precisely, his lack of one) that disturbs me so much. The Christian's "hope" is in perfect relationship with the Triune God for all eternity once Christ returns to earth for His Bride. That "hope" is imaged today not in 2-story homes or job promotions, but in the selfless love that I have for others in the Christian community and the love that my God-family has for me.

It's no wonder that Osteen's pseudo-eschatology naturally leads to pseudo-ecclesiology. If the role of the faith community is merely in encouraging me to "live up" to my potential, I should just join the Kiwanis Club. They don't demand nearly as much.

I became attuned to this last Saturday night (don't worry, I'm not an Adventist or a Jew) when Randy preached about taking hard stances with the people we love, even to the point of taking steps of discipline. We cannot be laizze-faire with sin. Osteen's message and his pseudo-ecclesiology just maintains the Evangelical tendency for us to merely be "nice" to us other, when love demands much more.

Jeff Walling, in his NACC sermon, says that being people of grace means that we have to stop just being nice to each other, we have to act like family, and that's messy. Osteen's message is a message of nice, desiring nothing more than to rid all the messiness out of life.

Well, Joel, the mess will remain until God deals with it. Until then, we have to deal with it (and not cover it up with 401K's or SUV's). And the only way to do that is through the love of God and the family He's adopted me into.

But, on the other hand, he does have great hair. So he has that going for him, which is nice.

All Things to All People

"Anonymous" writes:
As I (an anonymous friend of Doug) have recently become good friends with a practicing Muslim I have been thinking about ways to foster Christian-Muslim relations. Specifically, I have been wrestling with how Christians ought to handle the religious rules that Muslims feel called by God to obey. This wrestling inspired the following…
“Though I am free and belong to no man, I make myself a slave to everyone, to win as many as possible. To the Jews I became like a Jew, to win the Jews. To those under the law I became like one under the law (though I myself am not under the law), so as to win those under the law. To those not having the law I became like one not having the law (though I am not free from God's law but am under Christ's law), so as to win those not having the law. To the weak I became weak, to win the weak. I have become all things to all men so that by all possible means I might save some. I do all this for the sake of the gospel, that I may share in its blessings.”
Fellowship among Jewish and Gentile believers in the early church was often strained due to the purity codes of Jewish law. In addressing this issue church leaders (in Acts 15) declared that although circumcision was not necessary for conversion it was recommended that Gentiles abstain from food sacrificed to idols, sexual immorality, meat from strangled animals, and from blood. These rules were seen as pre-Mosaic (and thus applicable to non-Jews) and as particularly important to harmonious table-fellowship within the church. In Romans 14 and I Corinthians 8 Paul goes further to state that eating food sacrificed to idols was not unclean in itself. Rather, certain believer’s consciences were “weak” and did not allow them to partake in it. These are the “weak” believers to whom Paul refers in the passage above.
The examples by which Paul illustrates his claim to be “all things to all people” are limited in scope. They all involve the relationship between the follower of Christ and the Mosaic Law. On one hand there were i) Jews fully under the law as well as ii) immature Christian-Jews who were still partially under the law due to their “weak” consciences. On the other, there were iii) Gentiles who were not under the law at all.
The difficulty in interpreting this passage lies in how one understands Paul’s claim to be both “like one under the law” and be “like one not having the law.” This stems from the fact that in first-century Judaism one either kept law or one did not. There was no real middle ground. The only way for Paul to claim he was “like one who observed the Sabbath consistantly” was to observe the Sabbath consistently. Observing the Sabbath only when around other Jews was not sufficient to count as being “like one who was under the Law.” So how then could Paul rightly claim to be “like one not under the law” if he consistently kept the law? Presumably it came from his attitude towards the significance of the Law. Paul viewed the Mosaic Law as non-salvic. For this reason he did not require Gentile believers to observe it. For Paul, the Law was no more important than a set of clothes that he had donned to better evangelize the Jews. Even though he continued to wear these clothes around Gentiles he made their lack of significance clear to Jew and Gentile alike. Although he observed the law he was not bound by it. It is here that I wish to offer up an unoriginal hypothesis. Perhaps Christians who are evangelizing Muslims ought to observe Islamic Shari’ah codes so that “by all means possible they might save some.” For example, one might fast during Ramadan, say “peace and blessing be upon him” after speaking of any prophet (including Jesus), wear exceptionally modest clothing, refrain from eating pork and drinking alcohol, etc. Of course the goal is not to pointlessly mimic Islam, but to engage in whatever behaviors are contextually appropriate to foster relationships. Likewise, this could not be a slavish obedience—for example, injunctions against proselytizing must be ignored (ala Acts 4:18-20). But for all that it seems to have a plausible Biblical precedent.

I'd be a good mystic if I didn't care what people thought of me

Or, if I didn't enjoy driving my car as much as I do.

Or, if I wasn't so lazy.

Or, if I didn't like TV so much.

Basically, I'd like the freedom to live a "timeless" existence, renouncing all obligation to the world and my "career." But I can't -- or, at least I don't think that I can. My sense of identity comes from things other than God, as much as I wish it didn't. It comes from my sense of accomplishment. It comes from the cool stuff I own. It even comes from the sports teams I follow.

I wish I could find some middle ground between mystic and hedonist -- a place where my identity is solely in God but where I freely enjoy my work and play because God has redeemed it to the point where it actually means something. That being called from the world by God, He sends me back into the world to live and play and actually do some good.

Without a community that encourages and challenges me to do that, I can't. Without people who care about me enough to speak truth to my face, I can't be strong enough to find that "middle" place.

Is this blame-shifting? Kind of. But it's also a confession that I haven't really joined a community that I listen or submit to. Until I do that, perhaps I should just stop whining.

[Humming: "I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For"]

2 Images

While worshipping last Saturday (again, I'll justify thistheologically in a later article) I was moved spiritually by something that happened.

In the midst of our singing, a family comes in and sits down front. Three ladies of differing ages, none of whom were moving too easily (one with a walker) and a pre-teen boy in a wheelchair. I assumed the three ladies were his mother, grandmother, and aunt (or maybe mother's friend).

We celebrate the Lord's Supper by going to tables in the back of the sanctuary, and I had gone and was returning to my seat when I saw this family make their way to the back. The mother and her sister/friend were carrying the boy -- apparently, it would have been too difficult for them to manuever the wheelchair to the tables and back to their seats.

And I thought: what a beautiful picture of the church. I am broken, wounded, unable to make it to the table of the Lord on my own. I need to be carried. And I've had the good fortune to be carried by other broken, wounded people:

• My 2nd grade Sunday School who taught me to keep all four legs of my chair on the floor, but also about Jesus and His love for me.
• My youth leaders who forced me into going places I never would have chosen to go on my own.
• My mentors in bible college and seminary who challenged my thinking and helped me develop a more mature love for Christ.
• My family that won't put up with my self-justifying garbage but challenge me to make right choices.

I didn't make it to the cross on my own. Not by a long shot.

2nd Image: As I was driving back home, I got stuck behind a Hummer going 5 mph slower than the speed limit. As I was screaming Christianized profanities in my head, I noticed that the driver had one of those handicap parking signs people hang from their rearview mirrors. I thought: someone is really overcompensating for his handicap.

Here's the thought: we can either accept our own brokenness, and the brokenness of the people around us -- carrying each other to the only place where we can find healing -- or we can cover up our brokenness with stuff (like a $50,000 vehicle you could invade Canada with -- okay, bad example).

Eugene Peterson on Church Leadership Today

Got this from a friend of a friend of a friend (in the blogosphere, that is). From Eugene Peterson:

“American pastors are abandoning their posts, left and right, and at an alarming rate. They are not leaving their churches and getting other jobs. Congregations still pay their salaries. Their names remain on the church stationary and they continue to appear in pulpits on Sundays. But they are abandoning their posts, their calling. They have gone whoring after other gods. What they do with their time under the guise of pastoral ministry hasn’t the remotest connection with what the church’s pastors have done for most of twenty centuries.

A few of us are angry about it. We are angry because we have been deserted…. It is bitterly disappointing to enter a room full of people whom you have every reason to expect share the quest and commitments of pastoral work and find within ten minutes that they most definitely do not. They talk of images and statistics. They drop names. They discuss influence and status. Matters of God and the soul and Scripture are not grist for their mills.

The pastors of America have metamorphosed into a company of shopkeepers, and the shops they keep are churches. They are preoccupied with shopkeeper’s concerns–how to keep the customers happy, how to lure customers away from competitors down the street, how to package the goods so that the customers will
lay out more money.

Some of them are very good shopkeepers. They attract a lot of customers, pull in great sums of money, develop splendid reputations. Yet it is still shopkeeping; religious shopkeeping, to be sure, but shopkeeping all the same. The marketing strategies of the fast-food franchise occupy the waking minds of these entrepreneurs; while asleep they dream of the kind of success that will get the attention of journalists.

The biblical fact is that there are no successful churches. There are, instead, communities of sinners, gathered before God week after week in towns and villages all over the world. The Holy Spirit gathers them and does his work in them. In these communities of sinners, one of the sinners is called pastor and given a designated
responsibility in the community. The pastor’s responsibility is to keep the community attentive to God. It is this responsibility that is being abandoned in spades.”

Peterson's comments run a little counter to my idea of church polity (I believe in a plurality of pastor/elders as opposed to the Presbyterian model of a singular head "pastor"), but they're prophetic to this age of Christian leaders.

Pastoral Training Today

My good friend Anonymous' (probably a more creative screen name needed) comment on the One-Stop Shopping post got me thinking about the changes that are coming to how we train the next generation of Christian leaders. This is of particular interest to me, as a professor of a "classic" Bible College -- but hopefully I'm more concerned about the growth/expansion of the Kingdom of God rather than my own job security.

The preacher-training schools got started because the church wasn't doing it's job. That's the truth of every parachurch organization. It is the job of the church to train up it's own in the study of the Word (2 Tim 2:2) and in the service of the Kingdom. Paul doesn't recommend that Timothy start an accredited school with different degree offerings, he's more interested in a mentor-disciple model (which makes sense given Paul's Jewish heritage).

We at the college where I teach are starting to worry about our relationship with our brotherhood's larger churches -- that the megachurches are no longer sending their brightest ministry candidates to the bible colleges but instead training them on their own.

Why aren't we applauding this instead? Isn't this what the church is supposed to do?

The problem, as I understand from my collegues (and agree with to a certain extent), is that the depth of study of the Word in the megachurch isn't at the level of the bible college. Okay, granted -- they're not learning Greek or church history. In addition, ministry training in these larger churches is mostly about learning the mechanisms already in place in the church rather than developing real pastoral skills. Will those who have come up "through the ranks" in the megachurches be able to adapt once the mechanisms of the church are forced to change with the culture?

The time has come for some real creative thinking between our "training institutions" and the churches. With the internet, virtual/video classrooms, and networking potential, a student could stay at home, be mentored in ministry by his/her elders and church staff, all the while taking excellent classes in the study of Scripture, church history, apologetics, and theology. Why not also have professors "making the rounds" to some areas with a number of churches for intensive week-long and weekend classes?

It's time to think "out of the box" about how we train future Christian leaders. The kingdom is just too vast to be contained by the campuses of a few bible colleges/seminaries. Let's think less about protecting our "territory" and more about unleashing the incredible potential the body of Christ has on the world.

Half-Finished Thoughts

Yes, I know I'm rather inconsistent on this blog (my very first response told me so!). Today I was pondering why this is.

The problem for me in writing down these thoughts (other than my ADHD, which you can see from the numerous parenthetical comment; like this one, for instance) is that I'll have an experience or an idea and think, "this would make a good blog post." But, in the course of thinking about how I'll frame it, it'll die right there. The reason it dies is because I have this tendency to want to wrap everything in a pretty little bow -- take a thought/experience, derive some sort of life-affirming or life-challenging lesson from it, and end with a cute last line.

I blame my training as a preacher for this.

But, I guess, the thing about life is that your experiences don't always lead to life-affirming or life-challenging conclusions. And they certainly don't end with a cutesy last lines. No, they just are.

So, from time-to-time, I may present some half-finished thoughts -- some ideas that could have been whole posts on their own, if I could have figured out how to present them as such. And maybe you, dear reader, could find the life-affirming or challenging lesson in them and comment below. Cute last lines are not required, though appreciated.

• We had Convocation last Monday, with the inauguration of Matt Proctor as president of OCC. Fantastic move on the school's part, fantastic message from Matt, fantastic image as he chose to wash the feet of a freshman student at the close of the message. As Matt began talking about John 13 and "taking up the basin," I started wondering, "will he do it here tonight." And he did. And it was incredibly moving.
• The only thing that slightly bothered me ("bothered" is even probably too strong a word) was how, while the worship was led from the piano only and not our usual full band with guitars and drums, it was the same songs we always sing. Is it a bad thing to have a hint of formality at such a historic occasion, and maybe sing a historical hymn of the faith? Do we always have to sing the "now" songs? For some reason, we here at OCC bristle at any hint of "formality," as though formal is the opposite of genuine. Is casual always better?
• We held the Community Volunteer Expo last night, and it was good as always -- maybe not great, but okay (in my view, the CVE is like pizza. . . even if it's just okay, it's still pizza). Again was amazed at the diversity of the ministries that happen in such a place as Joplin (I don't care what Mark Driscoll thinks of the place. . . but, then again, I like gravy).

Well, that's it for now -- I'll be back as often as the spirit inspires (though maybe the HS doesn't want the blame for this).

[Cute last line still intact]

I Miss Accountability

Summer at the college is lonely. I have had actual days where I have not seen or spoken to anyone.

Now, part of this is healthy. As Bonhoeffer says, he who cannot be alone should beware of community. Unless I am secure in my solitary relationship with God, I am of no good to the community. But St. Dietrich also says that he who is not in community should beware of being alone. . . and that's where I feel I've been for the last few months.

Since I work in an office building that is largely unoccupied during the summer, away from the busyness of the admin building, I have had a lot of freedom this summer. Freedom to wear what I want (shorts and sandals have been my attire for most of this dreadfully hot summer), freedom to come in when I want (after Regis and Kelly!) and freedom to leave when I want.

Now, I like this freedom -- and I certainly shouldn't complain about it! But the laissez faire attitude has effected my mood and my devotional life as well.

There have been some real spiritual highlights this summer, and none of them have come when I was alone. They have all come when I was in a community -- and when I was held accountable in a community.

Accountability is not always come with direct questions and pointed fingers. Sometimes it's passive, unspoken . . . but nonetheless there. I was late for an ordination service I spoke at -- and it's bothered me since. Not because 10 minutes makes that big of a difference in the scheme of eternity, but because I should have been there on time. The bride at a wedding I performed was 25 minutes late -- do you think she'll repress that anytime soon?

We have expectations of one another. And we should -- because what we're involved in is so important that we can't afford a freedom-bordering-on-apathetic attitude. In a couple of weeks, I get to stand before students and talk about such things as faith, living a life "worthy of the calling we have received" (Eph 4:1), and he beauty of God's bride, the Church. And as valuable as those lectures will be for the students (hopefully!), the expectations of those lectures will have a profound effect on me.

My community returns! They come tired, ready, confused, energetic, and much smarter than I'll ever be. Glory, Hallelujah!

Renovating the World

Today I closed on a house -- my first one ever! It's a fairly new house (about 8 years old), but there's going to be a lot of work to do on it (the previous owner had a love affair with florescent color). It's funny -- when I was looking at the house to buy, I noticed everything I liked about the place. But, yesterday, when I was doing my final walk-through before closing, I noticed everything wrong -- everything I woulod have to change, repair, or just get rid of.

I can see why people like to build their own houses brand new -- no garbage left by the previous owner, nothing to repair, nothing to paint over. It's just the way you want it.

For some reason, I was thinking about this as I was praying for four students who are currently in Congo filming a documentary on the children who are kidnapped and forced to serve in the military. One of our students, Tresor, is from Congo and his father is the minister of social justice, and that connection should allow them access to film the atrocities that are going on in that region of Africa. Here is their website if you'd like to learn more, and please keep Tresor, Derek, Jason, and Lindsay in your prayers.

This is what the Church must be involved in -- many times it seems as though the church is like that family who builds a brand-new house, everything just the way we like it. And that is what is portrayed from the pulpit, their websites, and their mass market mailings. Have you noticed how the same "family" is pictured on all these websites: good-looking husband and wife with 2 blond, well-behaved children with a nice two-story house, an SUV, and a boat to take to the lake on weekends in the summer.

But that's not the way the world is -- that's not even the way that "family" really is. Behind the plastic smiles probably lie resentment and jealousy, the only reason the kids are sitting still is because they're hopped up on Ritalin, and that new boat they purchased put them into so much debt they can barely stay afloat.

The world needs renovation -- real renovation, not just a splash of paint. And step number one is to admit where we're broken, what's messed up with this world, with our families. Only by living honestly can the Great Physician work His miracles in our lives. And only by being honest with one another can the Church be the hands by which He does His redemptive work.

One-Stop Shopping

I have a love/hate relationship with Wal-Mart.

On the one hand, I love being able to buy everything I need in one place. On the other hand, it’s weird that I am able to buy everything I need in one place. Here is what was in my cart the last time I walked through those hallowed aisles: gallon of milk, loaf of bread, container of pasta, frozen pizza, and . . . a ZipDrive. Should there be a place where you can buy both bread and computer accessories?

Because this is the case, I have a rule-of-thumb when shopping at Wal-Mart: Grocery items last. I don’t know about you, but I find it odd maneuvering through the electronics section with a carton of eggs. Plus, at the 15th & Rangeline Wal-Mart, you have to walk through the ladies unmentionables section in order to get there. That’s just not right.

Churches who are trying to reach lost people often try to exemplify Wal-Mart by being One-Stop Shopping for people’s spiritual needs. Wandering aimless through life? There’s a small group working through The Purpose-Driven Life. Struggling with an addiction? There’s a support group specifically for you. Can’t figure out how to discipline your children or pay off your credit cards? There’s Saturday seminars on parenting and fiscal responsibility.

And we wonder why ministers are so tired. And why they only last a few years.

This essay is not meant to disparage those efforts by churches to meet the needs of people. Far from it. But we need to reconsider our methodology. Too many times we try to meet people’s felt needs with programs rather than with people. And there’s a simple reason behind this: it’s easier. It’s far easier to put together a six-week “professional” program to help people develop parenting skills than be constantly training people to help each other parent the way Christ wants them to. It’s easier to hand them a book than really getting into their life and mentoring them.

For a movement that speaks of restoring the ancient order of things, we are far too dependant on a methodology that is seldom seen in the New Testament. We need to trust people more than we trust programs. And the reason for this is simple: people can love; programs can’t. People can sit on a sofa, crying and praying with a parent whose child has fallen away. A Saturday seminar can’t do that.

Instead of seeing church programs as One-Stop Shopping for people’s spiritual needs, we need to recognize and train our people to care for and give godly advice to those with the greatest of needs. Near the end of his life, Paul tells Timothy to entrust the lessons he’s learned “to reliable men who will also be qualified to teach others” (2 Tim 2:2). The pattern of ministry in the New Testament is giving wise mature believers the ministry of teaching and discipling newer and less-mature believers. Paul mentored Timothy and then asked him to do the same for others. We ought to do likewise.

The 8th Day

For the 8th post on this blog, I'd like to reflect a little on this concept of the 8th day.

For the Jewish culture, the 8th day is tied to circumcision -- the day in which little boys joined the people of God by submitting to the mark of the covenant. And while these little Jewish boys certainly didn't have any choice in the matter (they were only 8 days old!), they did have a choice with whether or not they remained the people of God. Over and over in the OT God's prophets compare the chasing after false gods with sexual immorality (with some quite lurid passages). Faithfulness to the mark of the covenant (and it's association with the male sexual organ), then, is connected with faithfulness to God.

So, the whole notion of God's people and God's covenant is symbolized by the 8th day.

For us on the other side of the cross, the number 8 is about New Creation, but first let's go back to the beginning. In Genesis 1, God creates the world in 6 days and rests on the 7th. At the end of each of the first 6 days, there is a common refrain: "And there was evening and morning. . .", but this refrain does not appear for the 7th day. And the reason for this is simple: because that day has not yet ended for God. He is still resting from His work of creation. He is still active, obviously, just not creating. But there is coming a day in which He will take that creative work up again -- the 1st day of a New Creation week. According to God's calendar, the 8th day.

This is why Jesus rose from the dead on the 1st day of the week -- the firstfruits of those who will be resurrected bodily (he's the only One who's enjoyed this thus far). This is also why Pentecost occured on the 1st day of the week -- the Holy Spirit endwelling God's people as the Deposit of something greater to come (Eph 1:13-14; interesting point: the word "deposit" here is the word they would use for the engagement ring, the "promise" of something better for a future Bride).

In the OT, the 8th day represents covenant. In the NT, it represents New Creation.

It's interesting then, how Paul puts these two concepts together in Col 2:11-12.

In him you were also circumcised, in the putting off of the sinful nature, not with a circumcision done by the hands of men but with the circumcision done by Christ, having been buried with him in baptism and raised with him through your faith in the power of God, who raised him from the dead.

In baptism, both understandings of the 8th day come together. It is the mark of the covenant between us and God, and it is the sign and symbol of New Creation -- a preview of our future resurrection.

And so, just as the Jews needed to be faithful to the mark of their covenant (and not go lusting after pagan gods), so Christians are called to be faithful to theirs. What does this look like? Let's keep reading in Colossians:

Since, then, you have been raised with Christ, set your hearts on things above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. (3:1-2)

But now you must rid yourselves of all such things as these: anger, rage, malice, slander, and filthy language from your lips. Do not lie to each other, since you have taken off your old self with its practices and have put on the new self, which is being renewed in knowledge in the image of its Creator. (3:8-10)

Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom, and as you sing psalms, hymns and spiritual songs with gratitude in your hearts to God. And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.
(3:12-17)

It's interesting how Paul talks here about community life: don't lie to or slander each other, but clothe yourselves with compassion and love, and let peace rule in your hearts. Whether or not we are faithful to the covenant we sealed at our baptism has a lot to do with how we treat one another.

Let's treat each other as we really are: brothers and sisters baptized into God's family and awaiting the 8th day together.

Unity is Found in Direction

There’s been a lot of talk about unity these days, and, along with many others, I welcome it. For too long has the Christian message been hampered by infighting among our own family. As Christians, our battle is not against flesh and blood, but we’ve been living as though it is – the flesh and blood meeting in the church building across the street.

Well-meaning Christian leaders have sought unity through creedal statements, which generally are so milquetoast they make a UN declaration seem forceful. Unity can’t be found there. Nor are they found in emotional declarations from the pulpit of a Promise Keepers rally or pastors conference. And while certain “fads” might be widespread throughout the evangelical world (think Jabez), the unity they bring is shallow and short-lived (anybody still wearing “Passion of the Christ” merchandise out there?)

No, true unity is found in direction.

Imagine all of Christendom as a rail yard. There are all sorts of different kinds of cars, each with its own particular cargo. And each of these cars is vital for the train. This train does not just carry one type of cargo, but wants to carry as many different kinds as possible. As the Christian movement moves, the train needs all sorts of cargo for the journey.

We need the charismatic cars to carry a sense of reliance upon the power of the Holy Spirit, as well as the expectation of great things from our Lord. We need the Calvinistic cars to carry for us the reminder of the majesty and sovereignty of our Lord, whenever we feel that we are the stars of this show. We need the liturgical cars to carry the awe and mystery of approaching God in worship, which some tend to make too much like political rallies or rock concerts. We need the Wesleyan cars to bring the importance of holiness and discipline, and the Restorationist cars to carry a commitment to the New Testament as the map for the journey.

When we connect all these different cars onto the same locomotive, the Holy Spirit which provides the needed energy, the momentum generated is enormous. It might even be enough to move a mountain.

The problem with the rail yard is that there are all sorts of tracks leaving the yard, in all sorts of different directions. Some tracks lead to relevance with the culture, where the train just becomes merely part of the broader cultural convoy – seeking political influence or merely “your best life now.” Some tracks lead to the idolatry of a compelling preacher, a long-dead founder, an ancient saint, or just the way “it used to be.” And some tracks lead to the morbid self-righteousness of legalism, where the silences of Scripture become basis for drawing boundaries around who’s “in” and who’s “out.”

While there are lot of different tracks for trains, all but one go to the same destination. “Wide is the road that leads to destruction, and many are they that travel it.”

I don’t know if God is much interested in creedal statements (He sure didn’t seem to include many – if any – is His book), but I do know that He is interested in our direction. The Bible is, after all, a travel book: Abraham’s journey of faith, Israel’s trip through the Sea and 7 times around the city of Jericho, there-and-back-again sojourns in Babylon, the Via Dolorosa of Christ, and the trip the gospel has taken from Jerusalem to Judea, Samaria, Athens, Rome, and the ends of the earth, and, finally, the promise of a future trip by Christ on a White Horse.

For unity to take place, then, the cars in Christendom’s rail yard don’t all have to carry the same cargo. No, they just have to be going in the same direction.

Therefore, whenever a church is serious about pursuing the One True God and Christ-likeness, I’ll link my car to theirs. Whenever a denomination makes their mission Christ’s mission – to take the gospel into all the earth, I won’t hesitate to join arms. You see, if I truly believe that the destination of Christ and the mission that He gave to His bride is more important than what I’m carrying in my car, then the differences we have will “grow strangely dim” in the light of His glory and grace.

Unity is not mere conformity, because that would deny the beautiful diversity within the body of Christ. How boring would the universal Church be if we all looked like one of the many wonderful variations. If we were all eyes, where would the sense of smell be? If we were all hands, how could we walk? But we must all be connected to the Head (here’s where doctrine comes in), and moving in His direction. Whoever is on that journey is my brother and sister, no matter what the sign in front of their building says.

“As for me and my house, we will serve the Lord.” Only God has a House and Table big enough for all of us to find room. In seeking His House, we’ll find who our true family is.

In the Light of Easter

Inquiring minds want to know: what is the relationship between the resurrection of Christ and big hats on ladies?

Easter is the Sunday when church feels like church -- like it should feel. Lillies all around, girls in floral dresses, pews filled with extended family members. Why can't it always be like this?

Our chapel minister keeps reminding us before most every chapel service of the best news possible: that Christ is alive. He has reminded us of this so often that it has become a bit of a joke to the heartless and cynical among us (the people I sit nearby in chapel). But it's true -- and it's true every moment. There is not a moments when Christ ceases to be fully and completely alive. But, unfortunately, there are many times when the Church does not seem to be alive, or full of joy.

Maybe our problem is that we are too dependant on outside stimulus -- we need upbeat music to make us joyful, or a stirring sermon to uplift our souls. The simple reflection of the "alive-ness" of Christ does not do this? What's wrong with us?

I know people who carry Easter around with them -- not the floral dresses and big hats, but the sentiment. The understanding that with another dawn is another day to enjoy Christ and serve Christ and learn from Christ. It's passion to live fully in light of Easter -- living like there's a billion tomorrows (because there is), but not worried about any of them (because there's no need to be). It's being fully alive in the "moment." Arrgh! I can't really describe it, so let's let Paul:

Wake up, O sleeper,
rise from the dead,
And Christ will shine upon you.

Be very careful, then, how you live -- not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil.

I want to live this way -- more than that, I want to church to worship and serve and witness this way -- fully alive to Christ, fully aware of the greatness of God, fully submissive to His will.

It's too bad we have to wait for eternity to be all that we're meant to be, but we can get glimpses of it here. What is God calling me to do today? Right now? Probably get off the internet, so. . .

Holy Saturday

I think this is my favorite holiday of the Christian year -- the day of waiting. Christ takes His Sabbath day of rest in the tomb, and His few remaining followers are huddled together with no idea what would happen next.

It's easy to fall into despair on Saturday -- is God active? Does He hear us? Can He do anything about our predicament? We may shout and scream like the prophets of Ba'al on Carmel, but when the fire doesn't come (at least, the way we want it to come), it's easy to give up on God.

It takes great faith, then, to make it through Saturday -- the kind of faith that trusts God to provide twice the normal harvest in the 6th year so we can let the land rest awhile.

We need a Word to get through this day -- to build up the faith we need. So we read of the mighty acts of God. Surely this is the God who fights for us too, right? The God who parts seas and presses "pause" on the sun is the same God I'm praying to about my life and my pain. Waiting is so hard; I need reassurance. I need to know that everything's going to be all right.

I wonder what Peter and the disciples read on Saturday. I can imagine a lament psalm or two was voiced. "Why do the righteous suffer?" "Why are You so far from me?" Or, maybe, the reminder from the Preacher: "Meaningless, meaningless, everything is meaningless." Life seems meaningless on Saturday.

I suppose this is why we need the community of believers -- the body of Christ, the temple of the Holy Spirit. When God seems to be at rest is when I need my brother and sister to be close, reminding me that after the dark night of the soul comes morning. With God, there's always another morning.

So here we are: God at rest, and us huddled together waiting for the 8th day -- the 1st day of a New Creation week. Reading, praying, remembering, encouraging, witnessing. . . steadfast in our faith until God moves again.

Maranatha!

The Redemptive Power of Violence

I saw this article from ChristianityToday.com about how many of what we might consider "evangelical" scholars are shying away from the idea of atonement as penal substitution -- Jesus takes the wrath of God that should have been directed at us.

Two years after publishing his controversial book The Lost Message of Jesus (Zondervan, 2004), [Steve] Chalke wrote, "The church's inability to shake off the great distortion of God contained in the theory of penal substitution, with its inbuilt belief in retribution and the redemptive power of violence, has cost us dearly." Chalke and others say that substitution, at worst, produces a twisted justification of violence and encourages selfish, individualistic abuses of power.

The phrase "redemptive power of violence" is, to me, something that I can't shy away from (as much as I might want to). Think about Noah, think about Lot, think about the Israelites fleeing from the Egyptians. All of them would be grateful for the redemptive power of God's violence.

We tackled Revelation 15 in class today, where the people of God are standing beside the Sea of Glass and Fire, singing the Song of Moses and the Lamb. The Sea, for them, is an instrument of salvation -- they've been redeemed from the earth through following the Lamb to the end (14:4). But for the wicked, the Sea is the instrument of judgment -- for they will all be cast into it (or something like it) for all eternity.

Violence is part of God's program. The Israelites could not take the Promised Land as God desires them to do until they had completely annihilated the Canaanites. And it was their failure to do so that ultimately caused them to go into exile.

Our problem with this idea is that we put our feelings of violence upon God. Our violence is capricious, destructive, and self-serving. God's violence is righteous, redemptive, and God-serving. That's why He can get away with it, and we can't.

To me, this is the power and beauty of Good Friday: the day when God's righteous violence turned upon His Son. Christ endured the wrath that God that should have leveled on me. Unfortunately, the instrument of salvation will also be, for the wicked, the stone that makes them stumble (1 Pet 2:8) or folly to those who are perishing (1 Cor 1:18). The cross will be for them the instrument of their destruction.

"Surely this is the Son of God!" Oh, that more would say this with us, and be redeemed from God's coming wrath.

Daughter and Sister

Last night at the church I attend (I worship Saturday evening -- a theological justification will follow as soon as I think of one) we had a baptism, which is always great to see. This one in particular was cool.

A father was baptizing his 9-year-old daughter, and just before he did, he called her his "sister."

Will Willimon says that in the Christian faith, water is thicker than blood. While our physical DNA family is a wonderful gift from God, that which ties our spiritual "family" together -- namely the blood of Jesus and the Holy Spirit (seen so clearly in the 2 sacraments) -- is so much stronger.

And yet we would walk to hell and back for our physical family and not lift a finger for a Christian brother or sister. Something seems amiss.

Suffering in the OT

We had an interesting discussion in Revelation class yesterday. It had to do with the difference between Ezekiel eating a scroll in Ezek 2 and John eating a scroll in Revelation 10. While they were both sweet to taste, for John it turned bitter in his stomach. What's the difference?

I take the bitterness of John's scroll to mean that he will suffer on account of his mission, to be Christ's witness. But didn't the OT prophets suffer as well?

The class discussion veered into the idea that the OT prophets never really called the people of God to emulate them (as examples). Whereas in the NT, we are certainly called to emulate Christ (and the apostles/prophets as they follow Christ -- 1 Cor 11:1).

Perhaps this is what the "new command" is all about. While the idea of loving one another is an OT idea as much as a NT one, the idea of sacrifically giving of one's self, to the point of suffering, is "new" in a sense that humanity never really saw that before Jesus came.

A church with an eye toward eternity, then, must be a church that endures suffering well -- a church that doesn't give in to bitterness in the midst of difficulty. Love demands that we hold on to hope.

Important Questions

In this blog I (for now) want to discuss two of the wonderful gifts that have been bestowed on us by our Heavenly Father: our eternal hope of new creation, and the spiritual family of God that we enjoy now.

Both eschatology and ecclesiology are enormous fields, but in this exercise I really want to look at the intersection of these two areas of theology. Namely, two questions:

1. How does eternity influence the church (it's polity, programs, relationships, etc)?
2. How does the community of faith image eternity (how does it show us what new creation will be like)?

I think these are important questions. First, because so much of church "stuff" is just stuff -- meetings and budgets and newsletters and the like. How much of a church's board meetings is about mere stuff and not the stuff of eternity?

Second, we are such materialists. We need eternal values -- and where else are you going to see such things other than within the community of belivers?

I hope to add others to this journey along the way. After all, how can one have a blog about community without a community? We'll see if anyone else wants to come alongside.