try hard
try
trying and trying harder
my heart
a waste land left to itself
Your love, my Savior
no need to try
just need to be
but I resist
try is all I know
but what is it?
what do I need to prove?
Your grace
reaching deep down deep
transforming
changing
me
yet I want to try
Your grace
reaching deeper down deeper still
deeper
don't recognize myself that deep
Your grace
reaches me
loving me
the unfathomable love
my Savior
I AM
You say
Your call
to me
not to try
not to do
I AM
echoes, echoes
my heart recognizing
my mind screaming joy
not to try
not to do
just be
I AM
just be
now I just am
Wednesday, April 06, 2005
Monday, April 04, 2005
getting beyond the "liberal" and "conservative" labels
Okay, this is a long entry, but I think it's worth it...
I'm in the best place and the worst place for a guy who follows Christ to be. What's that place? Well, I describe it like this... I'm constantly thinking about and through what I believe, trying [with God's help] to bring all that I am into conformity to the biblical witness. That is, I want my faith to be consistent with Scripture. Here's the rub. It's hard.
One of the most ironic dynamics to come out of the Church [and culture, for that matter] in the modern age was taking the use of labels to a new high. The modern age didn't invent labels. They're probably as old as prostitution. But it seemingly perfected them. I mean, in fact, the use of such terms as "liberal" and "conservative". I believe it was men such as Hobbes and Locke who really got them going in the political jingo of their times. "Liberal" was good - represented a thinking person who was not going to be kept under the boot of the "conservative" - bad, and often representative of either the status quo, if not monarchy outright. Today, in the good ole U.S. of A., the terms have both narrowed and broadened. They have become derisive and polemical. Ironically, each side is proud to wear the label each owns, and is equally proud not be of the other, all of this inspite of the polemics involved.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the 19th century, it seems these labels started making their way into the Church, at least the Protestant wing. "Liberal" meant anyone who sought to examine the depths of the biblical witness to the point of what was popularly known as demythologizing the Bible, so as to find the so-called "historical Jesus." "Conservative" on the other hand came to be known as the defender of the authoratative witness of Scripture. Early on in the 20th century, as "liberals" began to dominate the old, main line denominations, "conservatives" reacted and responded in various ways, much of which might be described as the "fundamentalist" movement, which came up with a spiritual litmus test of sorts to determine who was a Christian and who was a liberal. Answering yes to a variety of questions such as believing in the virgin birth of Jesus, and believing that Scripture is inerrant and inspired meant that you were a true believer. Answering no meant that you were one of them, a liberal, and of questionable spirituality. Sadly, "liberals" because of their fear of bible as myth, they reduced Christianity to what came to be known as the social gospel - Jesus as the good, moral example who reached out and helped people. Even more sadly, "conservatives/fundamentalists" reacted by seeing the social gospel as suspect, a watering down of the Truth, and merely concentrated their interpretation of the bible as mere assent to the propositions of truth and a number of external behaviors toward a unified conformity. Ironically, both sides were rooted in the modernist problem of thinking that as people, we could understand the mysteries of the universe [and of God], and that which we could not understand, or scientifically explain, was just myth. True Christianity was reduced to either social outreach or propositional truth. You either agreed with it, or you rejected it. There was no room in the middle for the tension of mystery.
Today, the Church still bandies such labels around. Here's my problem. I'm tired of the labels, "liberal" and "conservative". I think they are misleading and lead us away from the point of our faith engaging the world. I wish we would just do away with them. But here's the otherside of my problem. I still believe in labels, of sorts. My labels have to do with inside the Church. You're either a "believer" or a "follower" of Christ, or you're a "heretic." I want to get away from labels. But I can't. I think moving to this new set of labels is at least more honest. I know a lot of "conservatives" who think "liberals" are really just "heretics."
What I don't understand is why we just don't come out and say what we think. I mean really. There are people in the Church who struggle to believe all of the stuff about miracles. Does that put them outside of Christian fellowship? I guess if they can't accept the ultimate miracle, that Jesus was the God incarnate, and was crucified, died, buried, and raised from the dead by the power of God, there's a rub. If any church is teaching that you can be a "Christian" and not believe in that, well, shame on you. But can we not teach that God is bigger than our doubts or our confusion for that matter? We have to get over the hang ups of forcing people to not wrestle with their confusion or get over their doubts and just believe. Jesus didn't beat Thomas upside the head and call him, "liberal" because Thomas said he wouldn't believe Jesus had really been resurrected unless he saw the wounds for himself and touched them with his own hands. Jesus just showed up and called him on it. Okay, you say, Jesus isn't just going to materialize in our churches on Sundays and challenge the unbelieving among us to raise their hands and reach out and touch Him. But maybe, for those of us who are "believers" and "followers", we should concentrate on being the body, carrying those wounds on ourselves, showing to everyone within and outside of the Church that Christ did die, and was raised to new life through the power of God.
I guess the labels are helpful. They certainly help us demarcate politics and religion. They help us assign positions to people. They help us know who's "in" and who's "out." I'm being sarcastic, at least about their ultimately being helpful. In the end, labels take our focus off God, as the center of our faith, and as the center of our life. Labels, whether they be "liberal" or "conservative" end up putting us in an untenable position where we're stuck in the game of comparisons with others. Jesus clearly said this is foolish and ridiculous [see the parable of the tax collector and the pharisee - Luke 18:9-14]. I can always find others who are far more "liberal" than I; by the same token, there's most assuredly someone out there who is more "conservative" that I am, and who could (and proudly would) point the finger at me and decry me as "liberal"!
Reality is, I don't know what I am any more, except to say, I am a "believer" and "follower" of Jesus Christ, as best I can, and with God's help. These are the labels I am most comfortable with wearing; at least trying to fit into.
How about you???
I'm in the best place and the worst place for a guy who follows Christ to be. What's that place? Well, I describe it like this... I'm constantly thinking about and through what I believe, trying [with God's help] to bring all that I am into conformity to the biblical witness. That is, I want my faith to be consistent with Scripture. Here's the rub. It's hard.
One of the most ironic dynamics to come out of the Church [and culture, for that matter] in the modern age was taking the use of labels to a new high. The modern age didn't invent labels. They're probably as old as prostitution. But it seemingly perfected them. I mean, in fact, the use of such terms as "liberal" and "conservative". I believe it was men such as Hobbes and Locke who really got them going in the political jingo of their times. "Liberal" was good - represented a thinking person who was not going to be kept under the boot of the "conservative" - bad, and often representative of either the status quo, if not monarchy outright. Today, in the good ole U.S. of A., the terms have both narrowed and broadened. They have become derisive and polemical. Ironically, each side is proud to wear the label each owns, and is equally proud not be of the other, all of this inspite of the polemics involved.
Unfortunately, somewhere in the 19th century, it seems these labels started making their way into the Church, at least the Protestant wing. "Liberal" meant anyone who sought to examine the depths of the biblical witness to the point of what was popularly known as demythologizing the Bible, so as to find the so-called "historical Jesus." "Conservative" on the other hand came to be known as the defender of the authoratative witness of Scripture. Early on in the 20th century, as "liberals" began to dominate the old, main line denominations, "conservatives" reacted and responded in various ways, much of which might be described as the "fundamentalist" movement, which came up with a spiritual litmus test of sorts to determine who was a Christian and who was a liberal. Answering yes to a variety of questions such as believing in the virgin birth of Jesus, and believing that Scripture is inerrant and inspired meant that you were a true believer. Answering no meant that you were one of them, a liberal, and of questionable spirituality. Sadly, "liberals" because of their fear of bible as myth, they reduced Christianity to what came to be known as the social gospel - Jesus as the good, moral example who reached out and helped people. Even more sadly, "conservatives/fundamentalists" reacted by seeing the social gospel as suspect, a watering down of the Truth, and merely concentrated their interpretation of the bible as mere assent to the propositions of truth and a number of external behaviors toward a unified conformity. Ironically, both sides were rooted in the modernist problem of thinking that as people, we could understand the mysteries of the universe [and of God], and that which we could not understand, or scientifically explain, was just myth. True Christianity was reduced to either social outreach or propositional truth. You either agreed with it, or you rejected it. There was no room in the middle for the tension of mystery.
Today, the Church still bandies such labels around. Here's my problem. I'm tired of the labels, "liberal" and "conservative". I think they are misleading and lead us away from the point of our faith engaging the world. I wish we would just do away with them. But here's the otherside of my problem. I still believe in labels, of sorts. My labels have to do with inside the Church. You're either a "believer" or a "follower" of Christ, or you're a "heretic." I want to get away from labels. But I can't. I think moving to this new set of labels is at least more honest. I know a lot of "conservatives" who think "liberals" are really just "heretics."
What I don't understand is why we just don't come out and say what we think. I mean really. There are people in the Church who struggle to believe all of the stuff about miracles. Does that put them outside of Christian fellowship? I guess if they can't accept the ultimate miracle, that Jesus was the God incarnate, and was crucified, died, buried, and raised from the dead by the power of God, there's a rub. If any church is teaching that you can be a "Christian" and not believe in that, well, shame on you. But can we not teach that God is bigger than our doubts or our confusion for that matter? We have to get over the hang ups of forcing people to not wrestle with their confusion or get over their doubts and just believe. Jesus didn't beat Thomas upside the head and call him, "liberal" because Thomas said he wouldn't believe Jesus had really been resurrected unless he saw the wounds for himself and touched them with his own hands. Jesus just showed up and called him on it. Okay, you say, Jesus isn't just going to materialize in our churches on Sundays and challenge the unbelieving among us to raise their hands and reach out and touch Him. But maybe, for those of us who are "believers" and "followers", we should concentrate on being the body, carrying those wounds on ourselves, showing to everyone within and outside of the Church that Christ did die, and was raised to new life through the power of God.
I guess the labels are helpful. They certainly help us demarcate politics and religion. They help us assign positions to people. They help us know who's "in" and who's "out." I'm being sarcastic, at least about their ultimately being helpful. In the end, labels take our focus off God, as the center of our faith, and as the center of our life. Labels, whether they be "liberal" or "conservative" end up putting us in an untenable position where we're stuck in the game of comparisons with others. Jesus clearly said this is foolish and ridiculous [see the parable of the tax collector and the pharisee - Luke 18:9-14]. I can always find others who are far more "liberal" than I; by the same token, there's most assuredly someone out there who is more "conservative" that I am, and who could (and proudly would) point the finger at me and decry me as "liberal"!
Reality is, I don't know what I am any more, except to say, I am a "believer" and "follower" of Jesus Christ, as best I can, and with God's help. These are the labels I am most comfortable with wearing; at least trying to fit into.
How about you???
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
what's your pain?
I'm taking a break from the administrivia that is part of my job. I'm currently experiencing one of the many headaches I get. While the vast majority are not anywhere near migraine level, they tend to be in the least bothersome, and at most painful. They are a distraction, and certainly make it difficult for me to concentrate and focus at times. But I've learned to live them. I've gotten them all of my life. I've prayed for God to take them away. Guess what. He hasn't. But on a couple of occassions, one of my kids has prayed that He would at least heal them in the moment. And He has. Pretty wild. Why am I sharing this with you? Like I said, I needed a break from some admin. But the fact that I have to deal with and live with headaches brings up an interesting question: what does all of this say about who God is? Is He cruel and sadistic? Is He sympathetic? We all experience pain in our lives - it's just the when and where of it that essentially makes us different. What's your pain? What are you praying to God about, asking Him to take away? Has God removed your pain? Has He spoken words of comfort to you in the mean time? Not me. At least not directly. I guess in some way, I know He's not the source of it, nor is He merely sitting back laughing about it. If I truly thought that, I couldn't be who I am. But I do believe He knows about it, and for whatever reasons, my experiencing headaches are, for at least the foreseeable future, are part of His plan for me. Maybe they make me gentler, more compassionate? Then again, maybe not. But whatever His reasons, I believe God is good. All the time. How about you? What's your pain? Do you believe God cares?
Monday, February 28, 2005
What's Wrong With The Church?
This is one of those loaded questions. It's the kind that if I go out to the street and start asking people, I might not like what I hear. Not because I would necessarily disagree with what I would hear - there might actually be some really insightful comments - but because I might agree.
One comment I hear from time to time is this: "The Church is made up of hypocrites!" And you know what? It's true. Everyone who darkens the doorway, everyone who takes up space on a pew, everyone who stands up and sings God's praises - all are hypocrites - including the person who levels the accusation toward the Church while waving their own self-righteous finger from across the street. Yep, we're all hypocrites - including me. And it's not hard to understand why. It just takes some honesty, and some grace - two things which many both inside and outside of the Church often either ignore or forget.
How can I say this?, you might ask; afterall, I work in a church, don't I? Well, yeah, I do, and yeah, I have no problem saying this. Afterall, what is a 'hypocrite' anyhow? Well, I'm not going to run over to my Webster's 2: New Riverside University Dictionary and look up the official definition, but we all know a hypocrite is someone who says one thing, and then does another; they're a person who is inconsistent in the way they believe, live, and talk. And that pretty much describes each and every one of us. That's where the honesty comes in. You and I are hypocrites. How can we not be? No one I know is always, 100% consistent, good or bad. And this is where the grace comes in. We need to forgive each other [hint, hint: as God has already forgiven us in Jesus Christ], and cut each other some slack. We can't keep holding each other's past hypocrisies over one another's heads, waiting for the other to screw up yet again so that we can feel better about ourselves. We need to let God's grace come into us and transform us to be more like Christ Jesus. But here's the caveat: neither should we use grace as an excuse to be even more of a hypocrite than we already are.
Okay, so back to my original question. What's wrong with the Church? We have given ourselves as a Church culture over to hypocrisy, and we don't seem to mind it. Let me just say that what I mean is that we have a lot of people who seem to take for granted that the Church was established by Jesus Christ as new and redeemed community of people who are called to worship the One and True God, and as part of that community, we are to live radical lives that show God is real and at work in our lives. So far no problems. Unfortunately, we have learned to settle for less. And on some level, I put myself in this mix, too. While the pastor is preaching on anything from the Lord's prayer to different aspects of faith, people are merely warming the pews with their bums, lapping up every word from the pulpit, and then walking out, not to darken the door for another seven days. And that leaves me to wonder, "did you hear a blessed thing?"
Okay, so you can sense I'm a little put off by this. I am. But don't confuse my frustration with bitterness. I'm not talking about whacking people over the heads and tossing them out. No, I'm talking about challenging people's understanding of what it means to be the Church. We're called to live beyond ourselves, including the typical Main Line Philadelphia Suburban mindset that is so preoccupied with the Self, high SAT scores for buffy, driving the most expensive luxury car, and making sure biff jr.'s weekly schedule is so over-packed that by the time the best colleges in America accept him, he'll be so burned out that the parties he's been getting drunk at all year won't even be exciting to him anymore. And no, I'm not bitter. How can I be bitter when I know the God of the universe is waiting for His Church to wake up and be that community of redeemed people? But I am frustrated.
So here's at least part of the solution to this problem: take your part in this redeemed community more seriously than your membership at LA Fitness or your child's sports team. Find your small group, where you'll be known and cared for. Find your ministry, where you can exercise your gifts, talents, and abilities for God's glory and the benefit of others. Take your faith and your calling as God's chosen seriously, and stop treating it like something akin to the latest mailer from the local cable monopoly to have three months of reduced cable before it goes back to its ridiculously overpriced cost.
If we, you and me, the Church, could get this part in order, I think we'd shut up a lot of people. And you know what? We might even impress them enough to want to warm the pew next to us. What do you think?
One comment I hear from time to time is this: "The Church is made up of hypocrites!" And you know what? It's true. Everyone who darkens the doorway, everyone who takes up space on a pew, everyone who stands up and sings God's praises - all are hypocrites - including the person who levels the accusation toward the Church while waving their own self-righteous finger from across the street. Yep, we're all hypocrites - including me. And it's not hard to understand why. It just takes some honesty, and some grace - two things which many both inside and outside of the Church often either ignore or forget.
How can I say this?, you might ask; afterall, I work in a church, don't I? Well, yeah, I do, and yeah, I have no problem saying this. Afterall, what is a 'hypocrite' anyhow? Well, I'm not going to run over to my Webster's 2: New Riverside University Dictionary and look up the official definition, but we all know a hypocrite is someone who says one thing, and then does another; they're a person who is inconsistent in the way they believe, live, and talk. And that pretty much describes each and every one of us. That's where the honesty comes in. You and I are hypocrites. How can we not be? No one I know is always, 100% consistent, good or bad. And this is where the grace comes in. We need to forgive each other [hint, hint: as God has already forgiven us in Jesus Christ], and cut each other some slack. We can't keep holding each other's past hypocrisies over one another's heads, waiting for the other to screw up yet again so that we can feel better about ourselves. We need to let God's grace come into us and transform us to be more like Christ Jesus. But here's the caveat: neither should we use grace as an excuse to be even more of a hypocrite than we already are.
Okay, so back to my original question. What's wrong with the Church? We have given ourselves as a Church culture over to hypocrisy, and we don't seem to mind it. Let me just say that what I mean is that we have a lot of people who seem to take for granted that the Church was established by Jesus Christ as new and redeemed community of people who are called to worship the One and True God, and as part of that community, we are to live radical lives that show God is real and at work in our lives. So far no problems. Unfortunately, we have learned to settle for less. And on some level, I put myself in this mix, too. While the pastor is preaching on anything from the Lord's prayer to different aspects of faith, people are merely warming the pews with their bums, lapping up every word from the pulpit, and then walking out, not to darken the door for another seven days. And that leaves me to wonder, "did you hear a blessed thing?"
Okay, so you can sense I'm a little put off by this. I am. But don't confuse my frustration with bitterness. I'm not talking about whacking people over the heads and tossing them out. No, I'm talking about challenging people's understanding of what it means to be the Church. We're called to live beyond ourselves, including the typical Main Line Philadelphia Suburban mindset that is so preoccupied with the Self, high SAT scores for buffy, driving the most expensive luxury car, and making sure biff jr.'s weekly schedule is so over-packed that by the time the best colleges in America accept him, he'll be so burned out that the parties he's been getting drunk at all year won't even be exciting to him anymore. And no, I'm not bitter. How can I be bitter when I know the God of the universe is waiting for His Church to wake up and be that community of redeemed people? But I am frustrated.
So here's at least part of the solution to this problem: take your part in this redeemed community more seriously than your membership at LA Fitness or your child's sports team. Find your small group, where you'll be known and cared for. Find your ministry, where you can exercise your gifts, talents, and abilities for God's glory and the benefit of others. Take your faith and your calling as God's chosen seriously, and stop treating it like something akin to the latest mailer from the local cable monopoly to have three months of reduced cable before it goes back to its ridiculously overpriced cost.
If we, you and me, the Church, could get this part in order, I think we'd shut up a lot of people. And you know what? We might even impress them enough to want to warm the pew next to us. What do you think?
Friday, February 25, 2005
Going without Food
In our [United States] culture today, the idea of going without food is seen as anywhere from worrisome to troubling. The idea that anyone would purposefully and willingly go without food can only be conceived of in the context of some form of medical necessity. God forbid that we, as Americans, would willingly choose to go without a meal. Well, I for one, am generally one of those Americans. After all, my ancestors fought so I would have the freedom to eat three times a day, not to mention snacks here and there. Right?
But what if there were more to life than just eating well each and every day? what if God blessed us with abundance in food so that we would see the hungry of the world with some compassion, and actually be moved to do something for those whose daily diet was far less than our own?
The reason I bring this up is that I have several students and a couple of other adult leaders who are doing something special. As I write this, we're almost four hours into something called the '30 Hour Famine.' Put on by an international aid organization called 'World Vision', the '30 Hour Famine' is a way to both raise money (for projects that will directly benefit children and villages around the 2/3's world) and awareness (yours, mine, and those who give their support of the day-to-day situations faced by so many in the world). We're meeting up with other church youth groups from around the Philly suburbs tonight. We'll worship God together, pray together, talk together, do service projects together, and we'll go hungry together.
I've done this many times, and over the years, I'm always amazed at the reactions of some parents here and there to the idea of their little baby bunnykins missing out on a meal, or the idea that "I could never do that!" But much of that comes from a lack of understanding, both of God, and of going without food for the purposes of God. There are many passages in the Bible where God called people to go without food for a particular period of time, something called 'fasting'. I know some people see that as an Old Testament thing, something Moses and the prophets did. But what do you make of the fact that Jesus did it, too? The best example is from Luke 4, where, filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus headed into the wilderness for the final preparation to the start of His public ministry. Okay, okay, that was for 40 days, and was certainly supernatural. But in the end, I find it an unbiblical and hollow argument to bring God into a discussion against fasting. Even the history of the Christian Church is repleat with teachings and examples of the proper place of fasting in the life of believers. Why, John Wesley is even reported as having said that he wouldn't even ordain a man who wasn't already fasting at least twice a week. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters often fast during Lent and other holy observances.
Personally, I wish Protestants did more these days to teach on fasting (as well as other practices of spiritual formation). Fasting, like anything else we do as Christians, isn't going to make us more spiritual. But fasting does do a few things. For one thing, it helps us identify with those who are not as blessed as we are. Secondly, in creating the space for hunger, our hearts and minds are more teachable as to our hunger for God. And third, in the time, and with the money we would have spent on a meal, we can focus that time and the resources for the purposes of God.
Anyhow, as you read this, consider how giving up food can be an opportunity for God to speak to you. Consider how you might experience a different form of freedom that only Christ could fight and die and live again for you to have and know. Consider how going without food for one meal might bring glory to the Heavenly Father.
But what if there were more to life than just eating well each and every day? what if God blessed us with abundance in food so that we would see the hungry of the world with some compassion, and actually be moved to do something for those whose daily diet was far less than our own?
The reason I bring this up is that I have several students and a couple of other adult leaders who are doing something special. As I write this, we're almost four hours into something called the '30 Hour Famine.' Put on by an international aid organization called 'World Vision', the '30 Hour Famine' is a way to both raise money (for projects that will directly benefit children and villages around the 2/3's world) and awareness (yours, mine, and those who give their support of the day-to-day situations faced by so many in the world). We're meeting up with other church youth groups from around the Philly suburbs tonight. We'll worship God together, pray together, talk together, do service projects together, and we'll go hungry together.
I've done this many times, and over the years, I'm always amazed at the reactions of some parents here and there to the idea of their little baby bunnykins missing out on a meal, or the idea that "I could never do that!" But much of that comes from a lack of understanding, both of God, and of going without food for the purposes of God. There are many passages in the Bible where God called people to go without food for a particular period of time, something called 'fasting'. I know some people see that as an Old Testament thing, something Moses and the prophets did. But what do you make of the fact that Jesus did it, too? The best example is from Luke 4, where, filled with the Holy Spirit, Jesus headed into the wilderness for the final preparation to the start of His public ministry. Okay, okay, that was for 40 days, and was certainly supernatural. But in the end, I find it an unbiblical and hollow argument to bring God into a discussion against fasting. Even the history of the Christian Church is repleat with teachings and examples of the proper place of fasting in the life of believers. Why, John Wesley is even reported as having said that he wouldn't even ordain a man who wasn't already fasting at least twice a week. Our Roman Catholic brothers and sisters often fast during Lent and other holy observances.
Personally, I wish Protestants did more these days to teach on fasting (as well as other practices of spiritual formation). Fasting, like anything else we do as Christians, isn't going to make us more spiritual. But fasting does do a few things. For one thing, it helps us identify with those who are not as blessed as we are. Secondly, in creating the space for hunger, our hearts and minds are more teachable as to our hunger for God. And third, in the time, and with the money we would have spent on a meal, we can focus that time and the resources for the purposes of God.
Anyhow, as you read this, consider how giving up food can be an opportunity for God to speak to you. Consider how you might experience a different form of freedom that only Christ could fight and die and live again for you to have and know. Consider how going without food for one meal might bring glory to the Heavenly Father.
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